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 Desperate Child Ch 5 - Angela 8 years later

   This is a piece of fiction.  These events did not happen.  This is a
tale of consensual sex between adults and under age children.  These events
are illegal in all states and are not condoned, merely considered.

   I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her.  Still tiny, maybe all of
5'1" tall, like a fairy princess with flowing long blond hair, swinging
around a brass pole nearly naked.  I couldn't believe that such an angel
could let masturbating men look at her exquisite breasts.  Yet there she
was.  I thought I would never see her again, but there was my little Angela
dancing topless in a rundown, two bit titty bar.

   I'd just done a five year stretch as a guest of the State of California
and hadn't seen her since she was, I don't know, maybe 12?  My P.O.  had it
in for me ever since I refused to fuck her again and I'd been "absconded"
for a couple of years before they caught me at the bridge trying to get
into Mexico.  Straight back to prison for doing nothing but trying to get
along in life.

   If you've read `Desperate Child' then you know the story of Angela and
me.  She hadn't visited me in prison, not that I'd expected her to.  Now
there she was again.  Naked for the world to see.  Well, almost naked
anyhow.  All she had on was a pair of lacy thong panties what barely
covered her fabulous little pussy that I had eaten so much, fucked so much,
worshipped so much when she was 11.  I'd saved her sweet ass from a brothel
but they'd got her back and damned near killed me for taking her.

   The ten days I'd spent in hospital had pissed my P.O.  off royally.  But
that doesn't matter here, what happened to me is all bullshit.  There was
my Angela dancing to the heavy bass beat of some song I had heard before.

   Have you ever seen a woman so beautiful that she scared you?  Wanted to
please her so badly that your dick wouldn't stay hard?  That was Angela. 
In the years since I last was with her, she had barely changed.  A little
taller, her tits had become even more perfect than I had remembered, now
maybe a 30C bra would be just about right.  She was so tiny.  Her body was
almost too perfect, too graceful.  Her legs were no longer the pencils they
were, but slightly molded, firmer, athletic but still totally feminine. 
Her perfectly shaped feet, bare and small, ended in pedicured nails,
painted a light pink.  Her panties barely covered her little pussy, one
which I knew was cleanly shaved without having to see it, no matter how
much I longed to do so.

   Her waist narrowed slightly, her pelvis thrust forward, her pelvic bones
prominent as she gyrated around the pole, the flashing strobes illuminating
her body first one side, the other, from below and above.  She flipped off
the pole to a full split, her pussy inches from the nose of a cigar smoking
fat fool at the edge of the stage.  She put her hands on his shoulders and
pushed herself up, wriggling her ass, inches from his nose.  He leaned
forward to smell her essence.  She laughed and pushed herself up, shoving
him back to his seat.  She caressed her breasts, her thin fingers pulling
on her own nipples, pulling them forward, pulling them towards the fat man.
She released them and they snapped back on place, a howl coming from the
crowd as they rubbed their nasty crotches watching her.

   She bent backward, her pussy to the crowd, kicking off to a handstand,
her slightly bubble butt now the center of everyone's attention as she hand
walked to the pole.  Wrapping her legs around the pole, she pulled herself
up, writhing her body upwards so her hands grasped its cool metallic
strength.  Now erect, she pushed her feet into the pole, her perfect ass
now in display, the tiny thread of cloth running up to cover her asshole
barely surviving.  Hanging like that, she reached back and pulled the tiny
covering to the side to let her admirers see her asshole.  She puckered and
unpuckered, opening it and letting it close.  The crowd went wild.  Not a
man in the place could avert his eyes from her anus.  Not a man in the
crowd would not have willingly shoved his tongue inside her.

   She did a full flip off the pole and stood flat footed in the center of
the miserable stage and looked at the hungry men before her.  She smiled at
each, turning her head from on to the next as she began rubbing her pussy.
One man threw a twenty on the stage, she nodded at him.  Another, then
another.  She nodded at each man who tossed the money.  The message was
clear.  You want to see my pussy, then pay me.  I'll give you what you
want, give me what I want.

   Money began piling up before her.  Twenty, maybe thirty guys, each
tossing twenties, fifties, some offering her hundreds to see her naked. 
Angela began gyrating, swaying her tiny hips in a full circle, her hand now
busily masturbating herself, addicted to the attention.  The more they
yelled, the more money they threw at her, the hotter she became.  Her lacy
white thong panties seemed almost virginal in their sophistication but now
they started coming down.  She pulled the right side down, making them
strain against her body, then the left side.  She turned, yanking the butt
strap out of her ass crack where it had settled, letting the crowd of
anxious men see that it had been stuck between her cheeks.  Again they
howled.  She whipped back around, letting her long blond hair spin about
her head, covering her face with it as she grabbed the front of her panties
and ripped the fabric.  Her panties came flying off, flying deep into the
crowd landing on some fortunate fellow's face where he quite probably ate
them, I didn't see.

   Angela was naked.  Her feet bare, her cunt on view for everyone to see,
her perfect little breasts glistening with sweat from the hot lights on her
tiny body.  She stood stone still for what seemed like an eternity before
she began to grind.  Her stance that of a fighter, her feet planted more
than shoulder width apart, her knees outward, her pelvis thrust forward so
everyone could see her pussy, Angela was in charge.  No person there knew
how many men had put their hard cocks in that little cunt; no one there had
any inkling that she had lost her virginity as a child.  All that consumed
them was the then present desire to have her.  Then and now.  To leap up on
stage and devour what was before their greedy eyes.  She whirled about,
bent down, pushed her head between her legs to look at them.  She reached
back and spread her cheeks open so they could look up inside her ass. 
Again she puckered her little butt, let it relax and puckered it again. 
Her anal sphincter winked at the men.  The she moved her fingers to her
cunt, letting one finger slip inside.  Angela could feel her sexual juices
as they slowly ran down her legs.  The truth is that she would have
willingly taken on every man in the place.  Had they known it would have
been a stampede.

   "Give it up for Roxy!" shouted the MC as he stepped from behind the
curtain, his bright red blazer and matching silk scarf looking totally out
of place for such a dump.  "Give her a big hand.  She deserves it." More
money floated to the stage.  Angela stooped, grabbed every last bill, did
one last twirl around the pole, and disappeared behind the curtain.  The
howling continued another minute, Angela did one last nude curtain call,
facing the curtain, she bent forward again and butt winked at the crowd. 
Then she was gone.

   I knew I had to find her again.  This time would be easier.  All I had
to do was go backstage.