Twila and Candy

By Charlotte Simmons

Chapter 1

Let me tell you a little story about how I came to be the owner of a four year-old black girl and her two year-old sister. First, I guess you’d like to know how and why I came to come to be in this situation.

I guess it all started when I was young: ten to be exact. I grew up poor and my mother and I lived in the welfare project of a small semi-rural town in New Jersey. Since most of the residents were black and all the kids I played with were black, the girls I interacted with growing up were also black.

Living in the “project”, as it was called, many of the parents of the kids I played with were single mothers, the fathers having practiced the four “F’s”: find em, feel em, fuck em and forget em. Being white didn’t make me any better either. I never knew who my dad was and Mom never mentioned him. My mom, like many of the other moms, worked a menial job as a maid at the hotel downtown.

Anyway, we kids used to play in a vacant lot across the street from our building. It was littered with trash, old discarded appliances and overgrown with bushes and honeysuckle. There was a group of us kids from about the ages of five or six through ten that always played together. At the time, I was ten years-old. We used to play hide-and-seek there all the time. Watching the older boys, I learned how to deftly cop feels of some of the girls, but the younger ones were the easiest to touch because they didn’t think anything of it. That whole summer of my tenth year was the dawning of my sexual proclivities for life.

One day while playing hide-and-seek, I dove under the branches of a honeysuckle bush and crawled into my favorite hiding spot. It was surrounded by honeysuckle bushes and had an enclosed small circular opening of about four feet in diameter. As my head popped up under the bushes and I started to crawl into my little enclosure, I saw a small, chocolate brown foot. I poked my head up to see little five year-old Tawanda sitting Indian style in my spot with a big, toothy grin on her face. Her tiny afro had a few leaves in it and was in disarray from crawling through the bushes. She had on a dirty, stained blue dress and from my low vantage point, I could see her tread-bare grayish white panties and they had pulled to one side with the seam in her crack showing a single brown, puffy pussy lip.

Thanks to Darnell, a mouthy black boy of twelve, I learned all about “choking my chicken”, and had been beating off for weeks. Needless to say, that even at ten, I was no stranger to having a hardon! Well, getting a peek at my first real live pussy, even if it was a five year-olds, my G. I. Joe responded like a real trooper!

I smiled back at her and crawled up to sit next to her putting my finger to my mouth for her to be quiet. I whispered to her, “What are you doing in my hiding place?”

“We’s can never finds ya and the other day I saws ya crawl in here. So I came back after supper and crawled in here. So, if’n you don’t wants me to blab, I wanna hide here too.”

“Okay, Tawanda, but you gotta do what I say cause it’s my spot. Agreed?”

“Uh huh,” she replied as she nodded vigorously. “I’ll be a good girl.”

“I bet you will,” I replied with that bare pussy lip on my mind.

I put my hand on her knee and began to gently rub her thigh. She looked at my hand, then at me and silently smiled. I whispered to her, “You really got soft skin, Tawanda; it feels really nice.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” she smiled back. “It feels nice you touchin’ me like that.”

I slowly started inching my hand slowly up her thigh until I brushed the back of my fingers against that bare pussy lip. She gasped and jerked at the touch, then relaxed and giggled. “You shouldn’t oughta be touchin my kitty, Jimmy.”

“Baby, your little kitty is so soft; it’s the softest thing in the whole wide world! Don’t it feel good, me touchin you like this?”

“Uh huh,” she smiled as she blushed from embarrassment. “It kinda tickles.”

“Well, let me tickle it some more. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

Tawanda pulled up her dress and watched as I petted her little kitty. She even opened her legs a little to make it easier for me. I stuck my fingers under the leg band of her panties and covered her little chocolate treasure with my hand. She gasped again and her big brown eyes got a big as saucers and whispered “Golly gee!”

“Feels good, don’t it?” I whispered with a smile.

“Uh huh,” she whispered back. “It feels real good!”

I let my middle finger slip into her pudgy fat folds and swept my finger upwards. When I brushed it over her tiny clit, she made a tiny mouse-like squeak then giggled. We had long forgotten about the game outside our enclosure as we played our own little game of touchy-feely. We were brought back to reality when we heard the kids call everyone in free. I whispered to her to crawl out the back way, be quiet about our secret spot and I’d follow soon after.

At the end of the day and playing the last game of hide-and-seek, I asked her, “Can we play like this some more and you can be my secret girlfriend?”

“You really likes me and wants to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, Baby, I do. You’re very pretty and have a wonderfully soft pussy. I like touching your pussy.”

“I likes it too, but won’t we get in trouble? Momma says I’s not s’posed to be lettin anyone touch my kitty.”

“It will have to be our secret. We’ll be secret boyfriend and girlfriend and we can play our secret game without telling anyone. That way, we don’t get in trouble. We can’t tell anyone because they might blab and tell someone. Do you understand? Not your friends, not anyone! Understand?”

“Uh huh. I likes you touchin’ me there, it tingles.”

“And I like touching you there and giving you those tingles. This will be our secret room, okay? So don’t let anyone know how to get in here. That way, we can always hide in here safely, okay?”

“Okay, Jimmy.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Uh huh.”

I leaned over and gave Tawanda a soft closed mouth kiss that lasted about fifteen seconds or so. It felt like minutes and her plump lips were so soft and warm: just like her pussy lips. I pulled back and she lowered her head, blushed and gave a little giggle. I smiled back and said, “I love you, Tawanda.”

She leaned in for another kiss and when we broke away she replied, “I loves you too, Jimmy.”

That was the beginning of my sexual life and I will always remember Tawanda with love. Little did I know that for only being five, Tawanda was a smart little girl and knew what she liked. The next day, when I crawled into my spot, there was Tawanda with that big toothy grin. Like the day before, I crawled in and sat beside her. I again began stroking her leg and she giggled. When my hand met her pussy, I was the one who gasped. She didn’t have on any panties: she was as bare as the day she was born!

“Where are your panties?”

“I don’t gots none on,” she replied with a grin.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked.

“Well, it felt real good, you touchin me like that and I figured I’d make it easy so’s you could touch me real good. I likes it. I likes it a lot!”

“Well, pretty girl, let me see that pretty kitty up close and see if’n I can find out why it’s so soft. Lie down and spread your legs.”

Boy, she sure was an eager beaver because she didn’t hesitate one bit! She lay down and splayed her legs open with her feet flat on the ground and her knees bent. I gently pulled her legs apart further and she just let them fall open to almost a split with the soles of her feet almost touching. I crawled up between her legs and saw my first real, little black girl pussy in the raw — the whole shabang!

Her pussy was beautiful! Tawanda was a small girl, maybe three-feet tall, thin with a warm milk chocolate complexion. Her tiny kitty had real puffy, fat and plump pussy lips and her slit was short: maybe only three inches or so and she had a high fleshy padded mons that sat out in front. When she stood with her legs closed, I could see her whole pooter.

I leaned in and gently peeled open that chocolate peach and saw the sweet coral pink meat inside. I don’t know why, but I thought that pretty kitty looked delicious so I leaned in and took a whiff. She smelled a little musky with a hint of urine, so I swiped my tongue up her slit. She whooshed out a breath of air and swooned “Golly, golly gee!”

I looked up over her mons and asked, “You like that?”

“Yeah! Do it some more, Jimmy! Lick my kitty real good!”

I licked like a cat having its last bowl of milk and she grabbed my hair and made sure I got every tiny crevice. I licked her for several minutes and she was delirious when I came up for air. I licked her kitty twice more that day and she had a nice little preschool cum on the third time. I guess she was simmering all afternoon after that first lickin’.

After that day, we played our little game every day and never got caught. We progressively got bolder. The next day, we took turns. I showed her my ten year-old, four-inch hardon and she played with it until I squirted in her hand. I got her to eat it by licking some of it from her hand first. After that, she’d wank me to a cum and then lick my cum off of her fingers and hand. Then, on the next turn, I’d lick her little tingle button.

A couple of days later, she was sucking my dick like a champ. Those plump little lips felt so nice around my little four-inch dick and she even swallowed! I accidentally broke her cherry with my finger while I was eating her out one day and she was so hot and bothered, she didn’t even notice it! The next day, I fucked her and creamed inside her tiny, wet, snug hole. Tawanda took to the dick like a duck to water! When she crawled out of our love nest, she quipped, “You’s a nasty boy, Jimmy. My kitty’s all squishy.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, baby girl. I’ll lick you clean the next game,” I replied with a smile.

She smiled that toothy grin and replied, “You’s nasty, but I likes it. ‘Member now, you gonna lick me good, right?”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” I assured her with a grin.

We gave each other our virginities that day and I’ll always remember Tawanda with special fondness.

All my kinks started by accident. One day while I was eating her chocolate peach, she whispered she had to pee. I didn’t want her to pee in our spot because we’d have to sit in it. So, I told her to go ahead and pee in my mouth. She giggled as she started to spurt then I had to drink or drown when she started to flow. Well, one good turn deserves another and on the next game, she drank me down as I pissed in her mouth.

Not long after that, I was licking her butt hole and pushed my tongue right up her poop shoot. She went crazy and farted in my face when I pulled my tongue out. She giggled and whispered, “Sorry ‘bout that, Jimmy, it sneaked out.”

“Don’t worry ’bout it, Tawanda, I still loves ya.”

“Well that endearing comment earned me another new delight. I got to fuck her little brown winkle and spewed my load right up her five year-old ass. Right before we crawled out, she made a wet fart and we both laughed. She whispered, “Your juice is runnin’ down my leg and my butt is all gooey.”

“Can’t help you, sista,” I replied. “With fucking comes the cream. But I always cleans my messes. On the next game, I’ll clean you up real good.””

“You’s a nasty boy, Jimmy Hayes,” she shot back.

“And you’s a nasty girl, Tawanda Brooks,” I retorted.

She just giggled and wiggled her ass as she crawled out into daylight.

My supply of pussy dried up right before school started when Tawanda moved back to Georgia with her mom. But my desire for black little girl pussy has never waned. After Tawanda, I was hooked on shy, meek little black girls looking for affection. Kids growing up in the projects were, for the most part, neglected — including me. After my experiences with Tawanda, I knew that little girls loved to feel special. And with no one to really make them feel so, the very young ones became easy prey. After that, every time I found one, I’d shower her with hugs, kisses and cuddles, made her feel special and invariably she’d give up the pussy. It didn’t matter whether she was five, six, eight or ten: they all just wanted to be loved and were shy at first, but would always acquiesce and gave me their pussies in return for my affection and attention (not to mention the tingles and orgasms). They adored the affection and attention and they also enjoyed the feelings they experienced between their legs.

Over the next two years, I fucked three more girls: Tina, who was also five, Kendra, who was eight, and Tabitha, who as seven. All of them were cute, little black girls. Tina was a really dark ebony color. Her pussy lips were literally black, but boy her sweet pink insides were cherry! She became an avid piss drinker too and she even had me piss up her ass. That was a new twist and one I incorporated into my repertoire for life.

_____________________________

As I got older and started high school, it became riskier to be hanging around with little girls. It was in high school where I really learned my seduction techniques. It was always a thrill for a grade school or middle school girl to have a boy in high school for a “boyfriend” even though our relationship had to be kept secret. I used the line that her parents would find out and keep us from seeing each other to ensure their silence about our secret games. Once a girl had her clitty tingled, she was hooked.

Out of necessity, the older I got, the more subtle my seduction techniques became. Even so, I spent the next two years almost celibate. I had one girl named Tamika, who was nine, as my steady girlfriend for about six months, but that was it. She was a real barn burner and loved that five-inch white cock either in her pussy or her ass. Her favorite saying was “Geezy peezy, Jimmy!”

She was a real cock hound and loved to have her tiny dark brown puffy nipples sucked and lightly nibbled on while I plowed my sixteen year-old dick in and out of her nine year-old chocolate quim. She was a sloppy cocksucker, but boy, could she suck! Lots of spit and great tongue action and she always finished with a smile after swallowing saying, “Mmmm, you’s taste good, Jimmy.”

Don’t get me wrong, I may sound callous about it, but I was endeared to each girl I had intimate relations with. I saw her and only her while we were together and tried to give her love, affection and caring. I wanted her body, but I always cared about her and felt she deserved something special and tangible in return. I wanted her to remember me with fondness when she thought back on our time together.

My home life got worse because my mom had gotten hooked on heroin, lost her job and was turning tricks to keep a roof over our heads. I never got into drugs because I saw what it did to my mom. I got fair grades and even though I had no plans to go to college, I was bound and determined to get out of the projects somehow.

Well, one day right after my sixteenth birthday, our ship came in! Mom won the lotto and 126 million dollars to boot! It turned out to be great for me, but bad for her. When he heard about my good fortune, one of my teachers at school told me to tell my mother to get a good trust lawyer, collect the money in one lump sum and have a living trust set up. Mom took the advice and had a living trust set up for the two of us. One week after we got the first check from the trust, Mom overdosed and died on the bathroom floor.

That lawyer was a god-send. He had a partner apply for emancipation for me and I then became an emancipated sixteen year-old kid with 126 million dollars. Boy, getting pussy was easy now! The money provided the means to get those young tender black girls, especially the ten to twelve year olds. Their mommas didn’t care. In the ghetto, you got what you could get and with little or no supervision, as long as the cops weren’t banging on the door, they didn’t care how kids got it. These girls were hungry for attention, affection, clothes and jewelry. Having a white, rich, high school boyfriend was even better.

I was never a really big kid growing up and now at nineteen, I’m five-eight and 140 pounds. I’ve got dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. I’m attractive, not handsome, but have a young boy cuteness about me that attracts young girls. I still look like a kid because I have no body hair except under my arms and pubic area. I had my pubic hair permanently removed when I got rich and could afford it. One good thing (at least for fucking little girls) is that my dick wasn’t all that big either. I’m about five inches long and about an inch thick. I still have the dick of a twelve year-old.

I must have fucked fifteen black girls from the ages of ten to twelve over the next year! I made sure they did everything I wanted too. They did it all — oral, anal, vaginal, piss drinking and taking a piss enema before they went home. It was surprising how many of them would drink down a pint of piss, no questions asked.

Even though I was a pervert and loved fucking and abusing little black girls, I was always a romantic. I was more into looks and whether she was pretty or cute; the girl’s skin color never mattered. As long as she was black, I didn’t care if she was light or dark as the ace of spades. Little black girl pussy was the bomb!

You also need to remember that living in the projects, us kids weren’t shielded from sex, drugs or gangs growing up and we learned the score much younger than those sheltered white kids. It was nothing for an eight year-old to be standing on the street corner selling blow, or to see some elementary school girl sucking of fucking some teenager behind a dumpster or building. You grow up and matured fast in the projects and could get old very early in life.

I never forced any of them girls to do anything. I treated them with kindness and affection and made them feel like the only girl in the world. I never two-timed a girl and when I was with her, I was faithful, giving her my undivided attention.

When I turned eighteen, I knew something had to give. Now, I was an adult and if I got caught fucking a preteen girl, they’d cut my nuts off and shove em down my throat then throw me in prison to be somebody’s bitch! Living in the projects, one gets to be devious and cunning about ways to get what you want.

Now, at nineteen, we’re nearly up to date on things. I had to think of a plan to get me some young, little black girl pussy; AND… do it without going to prison. Here’s the plan I hatched…