Dog
Star’s 
A VISION IN ...
(HIM)
She was a vision in gold, white and pink. The gold was her hair, long and lustrous, down to nearly her waist. The white was her dress, a bleached white sundress that was too short for her, not quite covering her little bottom. And that’s where pink came in—her panties that flashed so temptingly as she moved. Her legs were like sticks and she had no chest bumps that I could see. What puzzled me the most was the doll she held carelessly in her right hand, dangling at her side. I figured she was perhaps ten or eleven, though the doll had me wondering.
I was sitting on a park bench when she approached. Since my wife left me for another woman, I often sit here for a while after work. There wasn’t anything to draw me to my apartment except a microwaveable dinner. “You’re not lost, are you?” I asked the girl.
Her age still puzzled me. She said, “No mister. I like to walk here.” Her voice was the singing of angels, light and wispy. The sight of her as she drew closer was breathtaking. The face of a cherub, her beautiful long, blond hair, and that hint of pink—I couldn’t take my eyes off her if I tried.
“I see you’re walking with your friend.”
For a moment she seemed puzzled until she realized I was speaking about the doll, which I now could see was a Barbie. “This isn’t my friend. It’s just a silly doll.”
“But she looks a lot like you. A sister, maybe?” I joked.
She didn’t get it. “That’s dumb, mister. How can a doll be my sister?”
“I take it you live around here. Is that why you like to walk in this park?”
She pointed toward an adjacent apartment complex but didn’t say anything, so I assumed that was her way of saying where she lived.
“Why don’t you sit down with me and we can talk for a while.”
Instead of sitting on the bench next to me, she shocked me by jumping into my lap. She turned her sweet face around toward me and said, “I’m a model.”
“You are? What do you model for?”
(HER)
“A man,” I said. “He has a big camera and takes lots of pictures and he gives my mother money that makes her very happy. I like it when mommy is happy.”
I didn’t say it, but this man on the bench is handsome, much more handsome than the creepy guys who take my picture. The man told me his name was George, and then made a joke about being “Curious George” and that’s why he asked a lot of questions. I laughed even though I didn’t get it.
He asked, “Your clothes are on when he takes those pictures, right?” I got the idea he was afraid to ask that question, but something made his ask it anyway.
“Sometimes,” I answered, and that’s when I felt it push up under my bum. When he put a hand on one of my thighs, I felt it push up more. “Do you like me?” I said.
I asked him that because I knew what that was pushing at my bum, it was his penis. My uncle Bobby, who everyone calls Junior, showed me his a few times when he saw me naked and it stood up and grew hard. That’s when I found out what those things were called. The first time I felt one was when one photographer, Richie, took his out of his pants and had me touch it. His was soft though it was very rigid. They both said they liked me, so having a penis grow must be a sign that a man likes a girl, and that’s why I asked George.
(HIM)
“Do you like me?” she said when I asked about clothes. Who is this girl, and was she sent by the Devil to torture me? She’s squirming on my lap with her dress ridden up to expose all of her coltish legs, and telling me about having naked pictures taken of her. How else could I respond?
“I think I like you a lot,” I said. She answered with a simple head nod. By now she most assuredly felt my stiffened dick at her backside, and her squirming told me it wasn’t an altogether foreign experience. I wondered if the prepubescent angel was still a virgin. “I’m sure your mom is wondering where you are. Is it time for you to go home?” I was suddenly uncomfortable with my thoughts, never mind being in a public setting with a hard-on and a lithe little underage girl sitting on my lap.
“No, my mom doesn’t worry about me. When she takes her medicine I know I’m supposed to leave her alone for a while.”
Medicine? Whether it was booze or drugs didn’t matter; mom’s ‘medicine’ wasn’t a good thing to burden this adorable little angel with. I decided not to ask. Instead I asked what her name was.
“I’m Jillian, but everybody calls me Jill, except Richie who calls me Lolly. I don’t know why but he said something about Lee-tah.”
Sounded like Lolita to me.
That’s when she went from giving me her name to “I’m hungry, but I can’t go home yet.”
“How about I buy you something to eat? What do you like?”
She jumped off my lap and said with glee, “Pizza!”
I tried to ignore how she looked at the bulge in my pants, but it only made my ‘discomfort’ worse. “Okay, I know a great place right on the other side of the park. Are you sure your mom will be okay with you not coming home right away?”
“Silly, Mister George, I already told you that.” Indeed she had.
Everyone I know has their favorite pizza joint. I thought this place had the best pies, so I took Jill there and ordered a small pepperoni after she said she liked pepperoni pizzas. A couple of the regulars looked at us funny, but I paid them no mind. The girl ate her pizza with stern determination, as if she hadn’t eaten in days, and perhaps she hadn’t. Considering how skinny she was, maybe this hunger was a regular occurrence.
When she went for a third slice, I touched her reaching hand and said, “Slow down Jill, or you’ll get a bellyache. I’m in no hurry. Take your time.”
“Okay,” she said glumly, and she tried to eat more slowly, but soon she was like good old Pac Man once more. When Jill finished, she let out a satisfying belch, and then giggled uncontrollably. I laughed along with her, regulars be damned.
(HER)
George was so nice to buy me pizza. Unlike my mom’s photographer friends who just wanted to touch me, I didn’t think that’s why George was being nice to me, though his thing did get stiff when I sat on his lap. I started to wonder what his looked and felt like. Maybe I could let him touch me as thanks for the pizza.
“It’s still too early to go home. Can I go to your apartment?”
“You don’t want to go to my place, sweetheart. It’s a mess,” he said, but I knew he was thinking about ‘it.’
Of course, now I was thinking about ‘it’ too. Barbie came in handy sometimes.
(HIM)
Holy shit, she’s rubbing herself with the doll! The doll puzzled me before; she looked too old for dolls and that’s why I wondered about her mental age. Whether consciously or unconsciously, she was stroking herself with the Barbie doll; and although I couldn’t directly see this since we were still seated, what she was doing was quite obvious to me.
I had to get her out of there before others saw what she was doing, so I said “I suppose if you can’t go home yet you can visit with me instead. Let’s go.”
A few eyes watched us leave. I hoped nobody got an idea to call the cops.
We walked to my apartment, and when we got there she sort of made herself at home. I didn’t see her take her panties off, but one minute they were on and the next time I looked the pink panties were bunched in her hand.
“You’re a nice man,” she said. “You can touch me if you want.”
(HER)
He looked really nervous, like maybe I would tell somebody or something. He said, “Why are you doing this to me? I can’t touch you.”
“Why?” I said, “You don’t think I’m pretty?”
I sat on his sofa after I said that. He was staring at my crotch and I saw the big bump in the front of his pants. I didn’t know if he was going to touch me or not, but I needed touching. Barbie’s head and hair felt really good down there.
He moaned and then said, “You’re pretty, all right. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Okay, so why aren’t you, like, taking your clothes off?”
(HIM)
What am I going to do? For sure someone saw her come up here. If I get undressed I’m crossing a line I won’t be able to re-cross, yet there she was, a vision of gold, white and pink, though the pink was no longer her panties but the cleft of her immature vulva. I so much wanted to be where the doll was now.
I couldn’t help myself. I crossed the line. Off came my clothes. She smiled radiantly, patting the sofa next to her.
“Oooooo you’re very big!” she said, her mouth agape. I must be larger than the men her mother has pimped her out to.
I sat down next to her. She immediately began touching and stroking my erection. “You like it?” I asked.
“It’s really hard,” she said. “Big and hard.”
“It feels good, but do you know other things to do to it?”
“You mean like suck on it? I think it’s too big to fit in my mouth, but I’ll try.” She did indeed try. Her little mouth couldn’t take much of me, and I got raked by her teeth a few times.
“That’s okay, Jill. You don’t have to do it anymore.”
“Can I model for you instead?”
When I said yes, she stood and seductively pulled her little white smock up and over her head. Now dressed only in her shoes, she danced provocatively. My eyes were glued to her flat chest and the puffy little nipples that presaged her breast growth. The nipples jiggled slightly as she danced, and I knew I HAD to feel them. Her long, blond hair swayed around her as she danced for me. I looked down at her pussy, and was surprised to see the gleam of dewy moisture on her hairless labia. Her smile told me that she noticed that I noticed. My cock was so hard it hurt, and I was leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.
“My God, you’re so beautiful,” I muttered in awe.
She stopped dancing and jumped into my lap, nearly twisting my stiff dick in an unnatural direction. “I like you lots, George, she said as her lips flew to mine. It was a girl’s kiss, not innocent, but without any tongue action. She ‘arranged’ my cock to between her legs and tucked it into the crack of her tight little ass. As I taught her how to use her tongue while kissing, she squirmed enough in my lap that the dry hump was destined to get me off. I knew it.
(HER)
None of the men who touched me bothered to kiss me like George was doing. His tongue touching mine sent shivers up and down my spine, the shivers ending up you-know-where. Suddenly I felt some moisture on my bum and I remembered how men sometimes leaked before you-know-what. I stopped kissing him and got off his lap. He looked at me funny, like I hurt him somehow, but what I wanted was right there. His penis was leaking a lot of that clear liquid I like. It tasted sweet, unlike the white creamy stuff they squirted out at the end. I put both hands around his hard shaft and licked the juice dribbling from its tip.
“Mmmmmmm,” I muttered as I tasted it.
That’s when all the white stuff squirted out one stream after another all over my face as he moaned, “Ahhhhhhh!”
Maybe because I didn’t jump away, or maybe because I licked some of it from my lips, he groaned, “Goddddd,” and squirted a couple more shots which mainly hit me in the chest.
He pulled me up onto his lap again and began rubbing the cream all over my chest, but mostly where my nipples were. I didn’t know why, but it felt real good before it got sticky.
I said, “Wow, and you didn’t even stick it in.”
(HIM)
I couldn’t remember the last time I came like that! I had no idea if she knew exactly what she was doing, but when she licked my cum from around her mouth I trembled unexpectedly and shot another load I didn’t know I had in me. I felt her unformed breast-bumps pucker and stiffen as I rubbed them. When I caught my breath I asked, “Has…someone…stuck it into you before?”
She laughed and said, “Silly…of course! I’m not a version anymore.”
I think she meant ‘virgin,’ but I wasn’t going to correct her. Instead I was thinking solely of fucking her, and my cock stirred accordingly. “How did it feel when…they…put it in you? Did you like it?”
“Duh, like not the first time. It hurt and it made me bleed a little. That was my mom’s boyfriend but he wasn’t that fat…like yours.”
“Mine’s fat?”
“Oh yeah!” she exclaimed. “Kinda long, too.”
“Would it be okay if I put mine in?”
“Sure. I mean, I thought that’s what you wanted…”
(HER)
I thought they all wanted to put their penises in me, but I also worried that George would be too big.
Then he asked, “Has anyone ever done this?”
Before I could say anything he sat me on the sofa and put his mouth down there between my spread legs. He used his tongue to lick in and around me. The answer to his question was No; no one ever did that to me. At first I sort of thought it was weird, but after he did it for a while I began to have some really nice feelings deep inside. I had like butterflies in my stomach, and everything grew warm down below. I had a hard time breathing. This was way better than using my doll.
He seemed to have focused his tongue on one particular place. He knew what he was doing because that place ROCKED!
The butterflies and the warmth spread and intensified as he kept flicking his tongue against that same spot. Suddenly my breath caught as I shivered uncontrollably all over. I surprised myself on how loudly I moaned.
(HIM)
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she moaned as she quivered and quaked.
The strength of her orgasm surprised me a bit. Either because of her immaturity or her blasé indifference to her previous experiences (if she’s to be believed) I thought a climax this intense was beyond her. The tongue-induced orgasm shook her to the core, and I got a little spritz of pussy juice for my effort.
“I take it you liked that?” I asked her when she was finally breathing normally again.
“Oh, George, that was, like, the best!”
She came into my arms again and we kissed. I knew she was relishing the feel of my erection rubbing against her body. Without another word I carried her to my bed. As I took the last vestige of clothes off her—her shoes—I marveled at the princess before me, a vision in white, gold and pink. The white was her alabaster skin, pure and innocent. The gold was once again her golden tresses, now splayed out around her head like a cherub’s halo as she stared at my erection looming over her. The pink was the parted slit of her vulva, moist and holding so much heavenly promise.
I fished around for a condom, and when I began rolling one on she asked me about it. Sadly, if men had fucked her before as she claimed, they apparently hadn’t used one. I climbed on the bed and got between her legs. Her mouth was agape, and she’d lost the cool, nonchalance about sex she displayed earlier.
“Are you ready, Jill, sweetheart?”
(HER)
I was thinking how impossible it was for that big one to fit in me when he asked me if I was ready, but I still nodded to him as he lifted and spread my legs. How could I explain now that I had lied, and the only thing men had put in me were their fingers. I knew that when my mom had sex she loved it. I’d hidden by her bedroom door and watched her a few times, and sex looked like a lot of fun to me. That’s why I let the photographers touch me, hoping and pretending. And that’s why I talked to George in the park.
When he used his tongue on me it was like a confirmation I did the right thing. He was a nice man who would teach me everything.
He pulled a couple of pillows to him and put them under my butt so I was high off the bed. I figured it would work better that way. I tensed up when he put the end of his penis into me, but the discomfort only came after he put more in.
He must have felt me flinch, because he asked, “Do you want me to stop?” I shook my head, and he went farther.
(HIM)
I’d questioned her bravado, but the girl was taking my cock like a pro. Damn, was she tight! I expected her preteen vagina to be snug, but not like this! Holding onto her skinny legs, I fucked her slow and easy. I wasn’t sure how long I could last with her being so tight and all, but I was determined to try.
(HER)
Wow, was this cool! I wasn’t scared, and my nervousness went away when I realized it didn’t hurt like I imagined it would. At first, though, it didn’t feel so great because I felt stuffed, stretched out. It took a while before I began to feel like when he used his tongue down there. When that happened, this sex stuff got a whole lot better!
“I like it George,” I murmured.
Those must have been magic words or something. He suddenly went faster before he stopped deep within me, and I felt the throbbing. I was so thrilled to feel the throb of his penis as he pumped his stuff that something happened to me and a hot, throbbing feeling of my own swept through me.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I heard myself moan loudly, as if I was a different person or something. After a few seconds, I wondered what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t worn a condom.
(HIM)
I was afraid that by cumming so quickly I’d robbed the girl of an orgasm, but she was so amazingly tight there wasn’t much a mortal man like me could do about it. Therefore, her moan and convulsive climax surprised me.
I lay on my side and spooned behind her. “Are you okay?” I asked tentatively.
“Oh yes…yes,” she murmured barely above a whisper. “That was soooooooo cool.”
“Cool?” I said in mock puzzlement. “I thought it was hot!”
She giggled so sweetly, and that more than anything reminded me of her tender age. “I think I’m still hot,” she then said. “Can we do it some more?”
I explained the need for a man’s recuperation, yet reminded her of other way I could keep her hot. She slid the condom from my semi-wilted dick and began daubing my cum over her chest, as I went back to work on her with my tongue. During cunnilingus, I glanced up to see her tweaking her nipples with cum-coated fingers. As they puckered and stiffened, I grew hard again. What an amazing site—those girl-nipples learning to be proud!
“Oh…oh…oh…it’s…happening…again!” she cried out in staccato rhythm as a new orgasm claimed her.
This was my opportunity to have her once more. I grabbed a new condom and quickly unrolled it on. Back to spooning behind her, I placed my cock at her opening and pushed. She gasped. I grabbed her by her nearly nonexistent hips and thrust wildly. Her groaning grew louder and louder until she screamed in orgasm one more time. Damn, did I unload! After all, there’s nothing like the idea of fucking a tight little preteen to help with the recuperative process.
(HER)
George was so special the way he made me feel. Sex stuff was better than I could have imagined. He let me play with the condom as I dumped out all the man-cream and rubbed it all over me.
“You’ll have to shower. All that semen will get sticky fast,” he said, and he was right.
I thought it was so neat that we showered together, and even though he explained about a man not getting hard again so fast after, he started to get hard anyway being next to me and washing me in the shower. After we dried off, we stayed naked, and as I walked around he watched me—and he stayed hard.
He picked up my Barbie and pretended that she was stroking him. “See, your dolly likes me too,” he said, laughing.
“Are we going to do it again?” I asked. I wanted to, though I was feeling a little sore down there. He must have known that, since he said we were done and that I probably had to get home anyway. “But what about your penis?” I said.
“Don’t worry about me, Jill, sweetheart, as long as you promise to visit me again sometime.”
I promised. I sat on his lap, feeling his nice hard penis up between my legs as he got out a brush and brushed my drying hair.
“Your hair is so beautiful, just like all of you,” he said, and I heard in his voice that he really meant it.
“Can I model for you before I go home?” He said that would be nice, so I put my white dress back on and nothing else and I danced and posed in front of his. After a few moments he moaned and began rubbing his penis as he watched me. When I bent over and showed him my bum as I looked back over my shoulder at him, he moaned louder and several strings of his cream sprayed up into the air out of his penis. I always feel good when my modeling can do that.
(HIM)
She moved seductively between poses, a vision in gold, white and pink. The gold was her silken hair, spraying outward as she moved, as if captured by an invisible wind. The white was the billowing, provocative dress, not anywhere long enough to cover what truly mattered. The pink was her swollen vulva, foretelling how sore she would probably be tomorrow. I was in awe of my good fortune in gold, white and pink, and then I was in awe of the amount I came even after some rather intense condom-encased ejaculations.
With a radiant smile, she slipped her pink panties back on and got her shoes.
“Can we meet again in the park? Maybe tomorrow?” I said, hoping the desperation wasn’t heard in my voice.
“I don’t know. It depends on what my mom has planned.”
After reminding her not to forget Barbie, and a big, sloppy kiss, I watched with wonder as the dream in gold, pink, and white skipped down the stairs and out into the world.
The following day, I sat on the park bench with anticipation as well as quite a lot of trepidation. Would Jill show up or would it be the cops instead? I saw the two visions in gold, pink and white walk toward me, and tried to gauge facial expressions. Jill had on a white camisole top and white shorts that in times past would have been called hot-pants. The older woman with her must be her mother. Her color scheme was the opposite; wearing a pink tank top and tight fitting white jeans. They walked toward me holding hands, and at least for now mom didn’t look angry. Her hair was as golden colored as her daughter’s, and getting closer I saw that except for a few facial wrinkles she looked like she was eighteen.
Silently they sat down on either side of me. Jill smiled up at me. Finally her mom said, “Hi, George. She told me.”
I looked at her and said, “Am I busted?”
“That depends.”
I wasn’t going to ask what it depended on. I’d bide my time.
(HER)
I pulled George down closer to me and whispered in his ear, “It depends on if you want to like have sex with both of us.”
He looked at me and then he looked at Mom, like he couldn’t believe it. I heard her say to him, though she said it in a low voice, “Any man who buys and strains my daughter’s vagina for a few slices of pizza better be good…real good.”
He whispered something back to her but I didn’t hear what he said. It must have been good, because we started walking back to our apartment. Goody! I’d watched my mom have sex but now I was going to have sex WITH her!
(HIM)
I kept thinking that I would wake up and it all would be a dream. Jill pranced and skipped next to me as we walked. Mom hadn’t told me her name yet, and I wasn’t about to ask, at least not yet.
When we got to the apartment, Jill wasted no time in getting naked. When I saw that little body of hers and that cute hairless puss, all nervousness flew out the window and I was immediately hard. Mom said to me, “I’m Janet, by the way,” as she led me to her bedroom. Jill, following along and smiling broadly, said “You can get undressed now, George.” When I dropped my boxers, Jill squealed, “See Mom, he’s got a big one!”
Janet said, “Mmmmmmm, it is good sized, isn’t it? No wonder you were sore this morning.”
Jill pulled me down onto the bed and was touching me as her mom got undressed. Janet was a surprisingly firm woman for her age, her tits perky with no sag to speak of. The other surprise was that her trimmed pubic thatch nearly matched her blond hair. I thought that was amazing all by itself. I wanted to look at Mom a little more but a giggling Jill decided to sit on my face. I didn’t complain. My tongue went deep as she squirmed above me. “Mommy, I like this!” she squealed with delight.
Obviously I couldn’t see, so I only felt Janet mount me. She quickly turned into a wild cowgirl, riding me like no other ever did. Jill’s pussy was my ambrosia, food of the gods, and when her young juices flowed it was sweet nectar accompaniment. I think mother and daughter reached out to each other, though I couldn’t rightly tell, having my face buried in the softest, most delectable patch of paradise known to man.
“Oh, Mommyyyyyyyyy, I’m gonna feel it! I’mmmmmmmmmmmm…”
What Jill felt was her orgasm. Moisture exploded onto my tongue as her quivering thighs clamped down on my head.
I didn’t know if Janet came or not, but I sure did; Jill’s sweet, wet climax had me squirting deep inside her mom’s vagina.
(HER)
I hugged my mom tight as I shivered from such a great feeling. Mom had her eyes closed as she wiggled and bounced with George inside her. I knew what her good-sex-look looked like, so I knew she was having fun too. The way George began to move made me realize that he was shooting his stuff into my mother.
After we were done and lying down on the bed, I watched his cream leak from my mom. That was really cool!
I said, “I wish when he did it with me, he didn’t have to wear one of those condom things, so I could have cream in me too.”
Mom said, “I’ll explain later why you can’t do that, hon, but for now why don’t we let George know how much we like him?”
George whistled, and then said, “I think you already have.” He hugged me to him and said to Mom, “You’re not mad at me at all?”
Mom said, “Look at how happy she is. Should I be?”
He turned his face to me and asked, “Are you happy?”
(HIM)
She giggled and answered, “Of course I am, silly.”
Damn, she was doing it again! I just came, and now having this luscious waif lying on top of me, grinning, with her golden hair splayed out around both of us and the taste of her prepubescent pussy still on my lips, I was hard once more. I felt like I was a teenager again.
Janet purred, “You know, sweetheart, George here looks like a keeper.”
Jill looked back over her shoulder at her mother and, upon seeing my erection, began to giggle. She gave me one of her special wet, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and then nonchalantly asked her mother, “Do we have some condoms?”
She indeed had some, and she quickly rolled one onto me. If she had any residual soreness from the day before she didn’t show it. Mom got her straddling me and helped lower her onto my rigid pole. The young girl was a natural. My little cowgirl rode me harder than I thought she would—or could, while I rubbed her flat chest and nascent buds. She was so tight I hardly lasted at all.
(HER)
This one wasn’t so good, maybe because he was too long for me and it felt funny when he was all the way in. I liked it better on my back, but this way was still okay, especially when he rubbed my nipples.
Mom held me tight after I took him out of me. Before kissing me, she whispered, “Do you think he owns a camera?”
(HIM)
Mother and daughter: every man’s dream, I thought, as I looked at the two golden haired beauties.
I hope I don’t wake up!
© 2011 Dog Star [email protected]