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From: Rufus Fugit <rufusfugit@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Spring Break Day 2: Jenny's Couch Book II, part 29 (M+g, Fg, voy, mast, oral, anal, spank, bond, prost, exhib, tort, drugs) by Rufus Fugit
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Date: Sun, 08 Jan 2012 09:10:01 -0500
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Rufus Fugit
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rufusfugit
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/rufusfugit.htm
<1st attachment, "Jenny's Couch 2-29.txt" begin>

This is an erotic story featuring adults and children.  If you don't want
to read such a thing, don't.  If it's illegal for you to read it whoever
and wherever you are, I don't really care.  Don't read it, or don't get
caught.  This story is F-I-C-T-I-O-N.  No actual children or adults or
anything were involved in its production.

   This story is made available under a Creative Commons Attribution -
Noncommercial 3.0 Unported license.  You may copy, distribute, or transmit
this work so long as authorship is properly credited and these introductory
paragraphs are included, and you adhere to the terms set forth at
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.

   Please send feedback to rufusfugit at yahoo dot com.  I write for
enjoyment; my only payment is knowing that my writing has brought pleasure
to others, so let me know what you think.

   This and other stories available at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rufusfugit and
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/rufusfugit.htm.  New stories are posted
on the latter site first.  Membership has its privileges.

   I'd like to extend my thanks to the small group of deeply disturbed
individuals who make up my fan base.  :-) Also, please support asstr-mirror.org -
bandwidth doesn't grow on trees.

   Spring Break Day 2: Jenny's Couch Book II, part 29 (M+g, Fg, voy, mast,
oral, anal, spank, bond, prost, exhib, tort, drugs) by Rufus Fugit

   I woke up slowly.  My mouth was sour, my eyes were grainy with sleep
dirt and one lid was gummed shut.  Despite the thin foam pad beneath my
sleeping bag there was a rock digging into my back just below my left
shoulder blade.  It was stuffy in the tent and the mixed reeks of
outgassing plastic and stale sex hung unpleasantly in my nose.

   I rubbed my eyes clear and raised my head to look around.  Moira was a
huddled lump inside her sleeping bag with just the top of her head showing.
Twelve-year-old Karen was asleep on top of her bedroll with her head at the
other end of the tent and one foot almost against my cheek.  Her silk robe
was rucked up to her shoulders and nearly hidden beneath the wild tangle of
her thick blond hair; I had a clear view of one dirty sole, up her long leg
and past a knobby knee to her inflamed vagina.  Even in sleep her clitoris
was swollen and dark.  A trickle of juice shone between her spread inner
lips, running from her gaping opening over the twisted pleasure knob to
soak into the fabric beneath.  Her pale buttocks were dotted with fresh
welts.

   I was naked on top of the sleeping bag.  My penis draped over my left
thigh; my pubes were dusted with dried semen and little-girl sex cream. 
Idly I noticed one lone grey hair in the dark tangle.  Karen's little
sister Renee was snoring sweetly.  She blew little puffs of bad breath into
my face on every exhale.  My skin was sweaty where our naked bodies were
plastered together.  My hip was a little sore where she had been grinding
her bald mound against it, and the skin was sticky and tight with the dried
semen that had leaked from her no-longer-virgin pussy.  It had been a long
night.

   Blowing a load down Lilah's throat had exhausted me, as if all my energy
had squirted into the eight-year-old's tummy along with my spunk.  After
using the bathroom I was so tired I was almost stumbling as I made my way
back to the tent.  My head was down, watching the uneven ground until the
shadows gave way to the glow from the tiki torches.  I looked up when I
heard a strangled choking sound.  Lilah was almost invisible inside a crowd
of adults that had gathered around her.  Moving a bit closer, I could see
that I had already been replaced.  A stocky, light-skinned black dude had
both hands gripped around the eight-year-old's head, stubby fingers tangled
in her hair, as he pushed her mouth down onto his pimpled erection.  Drool
spilled from Lilah's straining lips and her throat bulged.  Her eyes were
wide and shiny with unshed tears as her mouth was forced down towards the
root of the man's cock.  For the first time I noticed that she was still
wearing the little LED ornament she had whored during our lunch stop.  It
flashed blue, red, and green as it bounced against her abuser's scrotum. 
Her chipmunk cheeks shone with sweat in the firelight and a thick glob of
semen dripped from a clump of her blond hair onto her chin.

   Her skinny nude body was visible only in flashes as three other men
moved around her kneeling form.  One was stroking the curve of her spine
with his other hand mauling her asscheek.  A second had reached beneath and
was squeezing her tiny prepubescent nipples.

   "Arrghkk!" The child cried out - as best she could with a spongy glans
plugging her glottis - and her little fists clenched where her wrists were
duct-taped to her ankles.  Her toes splayed and her legs tried to kick as a
third man probed her tight slit with one callused, scabbed finger.  She was
dry back there and there was no visible opening or even inner lips, just
two pale, smooth, puffy labia.  The man licked his finger and prepared to
try again, but fortunately that's when Karen intervened.

   "Uh-uh," the sixth grader admonished, grabbing the man's thumb and
pulling his hand away.  Karen was barefoot and barelegged, wearing only the
short silk robe Moira had given her.  It was loosely belted around her
waist, exposing the valley between her nascent breasts above, and the fine
dusting of blond pubes below.  Her golden hair flowed over her shoulders,
long enough that in back it hung beneath the robe's hem.  Her other hand
rubbed slow circles around her oversized clitoris, and she licked her lips
as she watched Lilah's body writhe under multiple sexual assaults. 
"Uh-uh," she repeated.  "You paid for her butt, but her cunny's too little.
You can spank it if you want," and she suited deed to word, releasing the
man to slap the backs of her fingers against the smooth, soft girlflesh. 
Lilah cried out again and her whole body jumped.  The man probed the
eight-year-old's clenched pucker, but though it and his finger were both
shiny with sweat, he was unable to penetrate her.  Lilah moaned
uncomfortably and twitched her skinny buttocks away from his touch.

   "Here," Karen said impatiently.  She took his hand in both of hers and
guided it down between her legs.  She inhaled sharply as she pressed the
man's finger between the bright pink gash of her inner labia.  She
stiffened and leaned her bare butt back against the edge of the picnic
table.  She dug her toes into the dirt as the man's face split in a grin,
revealing a single gold cap and more then one missing tooth.  Karen groaned
as the man pumped his finger into her once, twice, three times.  Her
eyelids fluttered closed.  Her breasts heaved in time with the slow
penetration and she seemed on the verge of flopping backwards onto the
picnic table next to Lilah, but then her blue eyes opened wide.  She drew a
long uneven breath and shook herself as if waking from a dream.  Gasping,
dazed, she looked around wildly.  The fear on her face was as naked and
vulnerable as her leaking cunny.  I could think of only one person who
could make a dire and believable enough threat to stop the sex-obsessed
twelve-year-old from questing after yet another orgasm: Moira.  As if
confirming my thought, Karen's hand dipped inside her robe and she winced
briefly as her fingers trailed over the cigarette burn on one pale breast.
She scooted back on the table, pulling up her legs to protect her bared
crotch as she directed the man, his index finger now dripping and slick
with her pale cunt cream.  He tapped Lilah's upturned asshole sharply and
was rewarded by another twitch of the eight-year-old's body; then he
pressed and this time the tiny ring of muscle yielded.  A high-pitched
groan pushed past the cock filling her mouth as the finger slid slowly in.
Her frail body rocked back and forth as the two men pushed themselves in
and out of her orifices without coordination.

   There was a loud grunt from a man's throat, a gag from the child's, and
as more adults crowded around the naked, bound second grader I caught a
last glimpse of fresh semen splattering across her spectacles and her
upturned nose.  I crawled into the tent, stripped off, and was asleep
within moments.

   It was a restless sleep, though, and it was gradually invaded by the
continuing sounds of rough sex from outside, grunts and exclamations and
deep male laughter, and riding over that Lilah's strangled yelps and cries
as one cock after another filled her mouth and pushed into her throat.

   But it was a moan that rose to a full-throated scream that brought me
out of my doze, a scream accompanied by the familiar slap of flesh on flesh
and followed by childish sobs.  I pulled on some sweatpants and a hoodie
and staggered outside.  The sky had cleared partially and a riot of stars
were visible through the clear mountain air.  It was crisp but not cold. 
It felt like perhaps two hours had passed since I fell asleep but I
couldn't really tell, except from examining Lilah's condition.

   The child's wrists were still duct-taped to her ankles but she'd fallen
onto her side.  There was a pile of bills next to her head, held down by a
rock.  Her pale, prepubescent body was liberally smeared with dirt and
jizm. Her face was completely frosted with globs and flaking patches from
hairline down to the hollow of her throat.  Her glasses were askew, both
lenses opaqued.  A milky pool filled her visible ear.  Her mouth was slack.
As her belly rose and fell, bringing the inverted vee of her sternum into
sharp relief, bubbles of cum formed and popped at the corners of her sticky
lips and drool-diluted sperm oozed between them into a puddle on the rough
planks of the picnic table.  There was a larger puddle on the ground; from
its bilious odor it was clear the child had emptied her stomach at least
once.  One blue eye, glazed and bloodshot, was visible above her crooked
specs.  Karen leaned over the little girl.  The fingers of one hand trailed
back and forth across her gooey chest, and her other hand held Lilah's knee
up, spreading her crotch open and exposing her prominent mound.  "Pinch it
again," Karen urged.

   "AAAAAAIIIEE!!" Lilah screamed hoarsely as the man standing next to
Karen did as he was told, using his thumb and forefinger to spread Lilah's
chubby vulva and seize the tiny pea of her clit within.  He squeezed and
pulled, stretching the hood until it was pale and taut.  Lilah tried to
hump her butt up off the table but Karen held her down.  After a second the
man released the little nub, letting it snap back.  He flicked it with his
finger and then began spanking her vulva.  Her labia were swollen,
protruding from her skinny thighs, and her entire crotch area was a bright,
blotchy red.

   "AAA!  AAA!  AAA!" Lilah shrieked with each strike.  Tears ran from the
corners of her eyes, tracing clear tracks through the milky frosting
coating her face.  But then, bizarrely, her cries ran together and
dissolved into wild, hysterical laughter.  She was still under the
influence of the Ecstasy Moira had dosed her with earlier.  "Whore me," she
mumbled in between giggles.  "Whore me whore me whore me." Her skinny form
writhed and rolled from side to side on the rough wood of the table as her
customer continued molesting her.

   I realized that I was staring, that my mouth was hanging open, that I
had an erection, and that I was squeezing it through the fabric of my
sweatpants.  And I realized that Karen was looking at me.  Her face was
sweaty in the firelight.  Her robe hung open, revealing her preteen charms
as she leaned over the younger girl.  Her nipples were puffed out and
swollen and her pert breasts jiggled as she moved.  She was grinding her
cunt against the edge of the table and the secretions oozing from it made a
dark stain on the wood.  As she stepped back I could see drips and runnels
of cream tracking down her thighs and past her knees.  One even reached to
the arch of her dirty bare foot.  An errant breeze brought her scent to me,
sharp and sweet under the heavy smell of semen and male sweat.

   Karen turned to face me.  She licked her lips as her eyes dropped
briefly to my hand gripping my hardon.  An expression of triumph danced
across her face and she shrugged her robe back off her thin shoulders,
wantonly displaying herself to me.  The contrast couldn't have been greater
to my memories of the shy eleven-year-old, her face crumpled and blotchy
from crying the first time I had stripped her, or flaming with humiliation
as my penis bumped against her lips for the very first time.  Now the child
stood proud in her nakedness, her face shining and her cunt weeping with
desire, with the sexual needs that had all but consumed her.

   In another minute I would have had her spread-eagled on the ground, but
then Lilah's moans and laughter turned to a shriek of real pain.  Her
current molester had left off spanking her swollen little cunny and was
probing a grimy finger between her lips.  He'd found her virgin opening and
was trying to force his way in.

   "Hey!" Karen whirled and grabbed the man's hand.  "You didn't pay for
that!" It didn't escape me that Karen's concern was not for Lilah's safety
but that the new child prostitute wasn't cheated by a trick.  "For another
ten you can put your finger in her butt, but she doesn't do that yet." And
she giggled at the homonymic juxtaposition.

   I took a deep, shuddering breath as I took in the tableau: the man
digging in his pockets for money, Lilah moaning and babbling to herself,
her filthy, sticky body twitching as she drooled cum between the planks
into the dirt.  And Karen, with her butt parked against the table, knees
bent, heels digging into the ground.  She held one hand out to receive
payment.  She was masturbating, unconsciously it seemed, with the other,
gently tugging and squeezing her knotted clit between her first and second
fingers.  I turned and slipped back into the tent, and was quickly asleep
again.

   "Pleeeeeeease?" This time it was a whine that woke me up.

   I rolled over and started to pull the pillow over my head but then I
heard Moira's throaty contralto.  "'Please' what, kitten?"

   "Please," Karen repeated as I peered out of the tent.  She was naked, on
her knees in front of Moira with her hands on the waistband of the young
woman's jeans.  Her robe was discarded on the ground.  The need in her
upturned face was almost heartbreaking.  "I did like you said," she
pleaded.

   "Did you?" Moira's voice was taunting.  She grabbed one of Karen's
wrists and yanked upwards, pulling the gawky preteen half to her feet.  She
pressed Karen's hand to her nose and inhaled deeply - and then her face
instantly contorted into a mask of fury.  "Liar!" she grated and her free
hand whipped around to slap Karen with all her strength.  I winced at the
crack as Karen tumbled into the dirt.  "Lying little whore!" Moira
shrilled, and jumped forward to stamp down on Karen's crotch.  "You stink!
Your fingers have the stink of that whore cunt all over them!" She ground
her boot heel against the tender flesh as the sixth-grader sobbed and
writhed.

   "No, Moira, no!" Karen blubbered.  "I was...it was...my cunt...OW!"
Moira pressed harder.  "My babycunt...my whore babycunt...it was just so
hot, I had to touch it but I didn't...I swear, I didn't orgasm, please,
please believe me, oh, it hurts, oh Jeez, please, please..."

   I should've intervened at that point.  Hell, I should've intervened more
than a year ago on the beach, the first time Moira hit Karen in the face.
It had been a huge red flag that she was not going to stick to the plan we
had worked out.  For me it was a matter of simple survival; for Karen it
would mean her only chance at psychological balance - the culmination of
months of mental and sexual abuse.  A campaign that had begun simply as a
way to make her complicit and shame her into silence when she had stumbled
upon my first serious erotic play with her nine-year-old sister, had
progressed to the point where the only way to make sure she'd keep the
secret was to make her into a child prostitute and moreover, a willing
participant in her own degradation.

   We had succeeded, thanks to the incredibly precocious sexual appetites
we had uncovered in the barely-pubescent child.  In the end she accepted
that everyone and everything she loved would abandon her if they discovered
her secret.  She came to believe that her God already had abandoned her,
that He had created her to be a whore, filled her brain and her body and
her cunt with an unspeakable and unslakable lust, lust that no number of
adult penises thrust into her juvenile cunny, no amount of semen guzzled
and gargled would satiate.

   But Moira's reasons were more than practical; our manipulation of the
child resonated strongly - too strongly - with the treatment she'd received
from her own father before his disappearance.  He'd been pimping her to his
friends before she'd turned ten.  And the cruelty she'd displayed and
continued to inflict on poor Karen wasn't a regrettable necessity to her as
it was to me, but a source of perverse pleasure.  And it appeared that she
was taking that pleasure now at the expense of good sense.  The cigarette
burn on Karen's breast showed that Moira wasn't restraining herself any
longer.

   But my head was muzzy with sleep and, like all those months ago, I was
caught between concern and desire.  I hesitated, telling myself I could see
how this played out before intervening.  Moira's face looked almost
demonic. She licked her lips as Karen's body jerked, her legs kicked and
she beat her fists against the ground.  "Do you promise?" she demanded,
putting even more weight on her heel.

   "Yes!" Karen wailed.  "Yes, yes, oh Jeez, please, Moira, please, my
babycunt," Moira stepped back suddenly, freeing Karen who rolled onto her
side and curled into a ball, crying.

   "None of that." Moira said, kicking the sixth-grader none-too-gently in
the back.  "You gotta prove it, kitten.  You gotta show me you really want
it." Karen raised her tearstained face and nodded frantically.  "So clean
that mess off the table for starters."

   I followed Moira's careless gesture, really noticing Lilah for the first
time.  Her skinny frame was sprawled on the picnic table.  She lay on her
stomach.  Her bindings had been removed; a ragged strip of duct tape hung
from one wrist and the opposite ankle.  Cum-clotted hair covered her face;
the ends of her chin-length mop trailed through the puddle of semen and
drool around her head.  Her body was streaked with dirt and caked with
trails of drying semen.  One knee was bent, and the other delicate foot
hung limply off the edge of the table.  Her vulva was swollen, protruding,
and brick-red, but that wasn't the only color in her nethers.  Someone had
taken her spiky ball necklace and shoved it into her anus.  It sat there,
half in and half out of her distended sphincter, blinking red, green, and
blue glows against the pale skin of her skinny butt cheeks.  The lanyard
lay between them like a sad little tail.

   But to Karen, Lilah was now just something standing between her and the
climax she had been denied all night.  Without hesitation she put her hands
against the sticky skin of Lilah's side and unceremoniously shoved the
naked second-grader off the table.  She hit the ground with a sickening
thump.  Her glasses flew off and bounced in the dirt.  Her eyes opened but
they were hazed and unseeing.  She drew a choked breath but only a quiet
whimper came out before she subsided back into semiconsciousness.  Her legs
were spread akimbo and her hips began to gyrate awkwardly.  As she ground
her bald cunny into the dirt, her butt flexed and her sphincter dilated and
contracted, slowly pushing out the flasher until it fell to the ground and
rolled a few inches.

   Moira watched this with a wicked smile twisting one side of her
heart-shaped face, meanwhile kicking off her boots and shimmying out of her
jeans.  She wasn't wearing panties and the brown curls of her trimmed bush
caught the torchlight.  She lit a cigarette before climbing onto the table.
She lay back, resting her head on one arm and raising and spreading her
knees.  "Well, climb on, whore." She exhaled a cloud of smoke upwards. 
"Climb on and get to work."

   Karen scrambled to obey, placing her head between Moira's spread thighs.
She began to press her own bare, leaking cunt onto Moira's face but yelped
when Moira slapped her pale ass.  "Uh, uh, kitten, you got to earn that. 
Now show me what that whore tongue can do." Karen's head began bobbing;
only her mane of blonde curls was visible between Moira's tanned legs.  Her
bare back undulated.  Her knees rocked on the table and she wrapped her
arms around Moira's upper thighs for leverage.

   "Oh, yeah, that's it, whore.  No, start at my ass.  Eat it, you filthy
little bitch, stick your tongue up in there.  Farther, oh yeah, that's it."
Moira kept up a running stream of instructions and imprecations as she
smoked.  Karen whimpered and gagged and did as she was told.  After a few
minutes, Moira allowed her to move her oral ministrations to her tattooed
honey pot.  "Yeah, that's it, kitten, eat my cunt, eat it, suck on my clit,
oh, damn, you're disgusting.  Fuckin' whore, you'll do anything, woncha, oh
yeah, oh yeah, oh YEAH!" Moira arched her back and stretched her neck,
raising her legs and crossing them, trapping Karen's bobbing head.  She
shivered through a climax, but when Karen relaxed with her, Moira slapped
her ass again.  "You ain't done yet, asslicker!" She goaded and cursed
Karen through two more climaxes, all the while smoking as the
twelve-year-old sweated and writhed atop her.

   Finally, she took her cigarette out of her mouth and stretched out her
arm, letting her hand droop over the edge of the table.  She flicked the
half-consumed butt; ashes drifted downward to settle on the dimples at the
base of Moira's spine.  She dug her free hand into Karen's pillowy ass
cheek and dragged the sobbing child backwards, smashing her mouth against
Karen's dripping, distended gash.  "Augggh!" Karen gave a strangled cry as
Moira went to work with her talented lips and tongue.  I was still on my
hands and knees, half in and half out of the tent, and I felt my cock
throbbing and my balls tense in my loose sweats as I watched Karen groan
and struggle towards her own release.

   Moira wasn't making it easy for her.  She nibbled at each shiny cuntlip
in turn, swiped her tongue across the gaping, cream-oozing opening, and
twirled her tongue around Karen's knotted, throbbing clitoris.  But each
time Karen tensed, Moira eased off, bringing her right to the edge over and
over until the sixth grader was sobbing and begging with frustration. 
"Please, Moira, please, it's so hot, I can't, I gotta, Jeez Moira, oh
please oh please..." Before long she was reduced to incoherent babbling as
Moira dived into her juicy, barely-furred cunny, dived and pulled back,
dived and pulled back, again and again.

   Finally Moira decided it was time.  She wrapped her free arm around
Karen's waist, pinning her in place.  She craned her neck upwards and
smashed her face into the younger girl's juicy crease.  Karen moaned once,
twice, louder.  "Oh, oooh, aaaah, aaaIIIEEEEE!" And then she hollered as
Moira touched the glowing coal of her cigarette to Karen's pale ass.  Her
whole body jerked but Moira had her pinioned; her biceps flexed against
Karen's futile struggles.  Moira pressed her face into Karen's cunt while
at the same time burning her ass lightly and repeatedly.  Karen's shriek
climbed to a peak and her arms and legs began spasming, then her whole body
jerked again and again.  Juice shot out of her cunny.  Moira coughed as
hot, spicy, juvenile cunt cream filled her nostrils, sprayed across her
forehead and ran up her hairline.  Karen wailed over and over as her
long-denied orgasm wracked her preteen body.  She forehead, elbows, and
knees thumped hollowly against the table as she lost control of her
muscles, shuddering and twitching until at last she was limp, exhausted,
sprawled atop Moira.  Not even a final application of the cigarette to her
buttocks - now dotted with over a dozen small crescent-shaped burns - got a
response.

   Moira grunted as she shoved Karen off of her.  Karen flopped limply,
moaning as her burned backside touched the tabletop.  I ducked back into
the tent as Moira sat up, shaking her head and wiping Karen's ejaculate
from her eyes.  "Go to bed, whore," she said roughly.  She stood a little
shakily, bent to pick up her discarded pants, and entered the tent without
a backwards glance.  She ignored me, wrapping herself in her sleeping bag
and turning her face to the wall.  A few moments later Karen gingerly
rolled off the table.  Her knees wouldn't hold her, though, and she fell,
stifling a groan as her butt slid in the dirt.  She cast around, eyes
blinded by tears, until she found her robe.  It was trampled and muddy but
she wrapped it around her shoulders and then crawled stiffly across the
ground and into the tent.  She collapsed onto her sleeping roll on to her
back.  She bit off a yelp of pain and rolled, naked except for the filthy
robe, onto her stomach.  Snuffling and stifled sobs gradually gave way to
the deep, even breathing of sleep and I drifted off again.

   I couldn't breathe.  Something was on my face.  I clawed at it,
struggling to sit up.  It was Renee's denim jacket.  It smelled of the
little girl, of baby shampoo and sweat.  I blinked my eyes clear, and there
she was.  Renee was still short enough to stand upright inside the tent. 
Her face was in shadow.  Dying torchlight leaking through the tent's open
zipper made a faint halo around her brown hair.  She turned and bent
briefly to close us in and, with the outside light cut off, when she turned
I could make out her features in the gloom.  Her face was calm and serious
but her color was high.  There were two smudges of pink on her round
cheeks. I heard her breath whistle softly between her parted lips.  "Where
were you?" I asked.

   "I went to see Raj.  They were fucking," the ten-year-old answered
matter-of-factly, "and I watched them for awhile.  I think I like watching
boys fuck.  It makes me tingly, you know, down here." She grabbed at the
loose crotch of her overalls, looking momentarily for all the world like an
outfielder adjusting himself.  "Why would it do that?"

   That was completely Renee.  Even after a year of enthusiastic anal sex
with me (and, I suspected, other acts with other partners) she was still
innocent in her way.  She was greedy about her pleasure - heck, she was
only ten - but her enjoyment was pure, uncomplicated, unhindered by any
body-shame or sex-negative attitudes.  Whatever they taught in school or
church about private places and bad touching and whatever, it just slid off
her back.  She had learned what she liked and that was that.

   "You're growing up," I smiled.  "Grownups get horny like that when they
watch."

   "Weird," She dropped cross-legged to pull off her shoes and socks.  She
continued in a whisper I could barely hear.  "I saw Moira do some really
weird stuff.  She was talking to a tree."

   "A tree?" I raised my eyebrows.

   "Yuh-huh," Renee unbuttoned her overalls and shimmied out of them.  The
smooth dark skin of her legs contrasted with the white and pink of her
Hello Kitty panties.  "She walked aways down towards the crick, and there
was a little, like, clearing, and a big tree, and she talked to it."

   "What did she say?"

   Renee's answer was muffled as she pulled her shirt over her head, not
bothering to unbutton it.  And whatever she said was suddenly less
important to me than the fourth-grader's beautiful nipples, large areolae
covering most of two perky plum-sized little breasts.  Renee noticed me
noticing her, and she smirked, tossing her head in a child's imitation of
coquettishness.  "Never mind," I said, as she stripped off her underwear,
her smooth mound prominent beneath the slight folds of her puppyfat
stomach. "You can tell me tomorrow."

   "Okay," she said, shaking out her brown hair.  Then she flopped down
onto my sleeping bag in front of me.  "I'm ready," she said.

   I blinked.  "Ready for what, sweetie?"

   In response she spread her legs wide and brushed her fingers over her
nips.  They crinkled in the cool air and her boobies jiggled.  Her answer
was in that boy-adults-are-idiots tone that preteens do so well.  "I'm
ready to fuck," she said simply.  "You can put your penis in my cunt now."
And she looked up at me expectantly.

   Oh my.
   To be continued...

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