Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Grandad's Pet: (c) Hamilton Joyce.  Mf.

   It was in late July this year that my daughter-in-law Fiona called me to
say she had finally got a date for the operation on her knee, which had
been paining her for years.

   She was confident the op would sort it out and she would be back to her
active self again, and her only concern was for Petra, her daughter, my
grandaughter.  She was going into hospital Thursday and would expect to be
discharged Saturday or Sunday morning.  Could I look after the girl for a
couple of days?

   Of course I could.  Petra is a lovely little girl and her grandfather's
pride and joy: always happy and smiling and with few of the negative traits
you can get with some twelve-year-olds.

   We decided it would be better for me to move into their flat for a few
days rather than move Petra to my house (I still have our family house
which I kept on after the children left and then again after Sandra died.)
My only son was killed six years ago and Fiona never remarried.  He had
been well-insured ....



   I had driven Fiona to the General Hospital and then parked outside
Petra's school at school-run time.  I was not the only man at the gate but
most of the gathered parents were women.  Not so many as you would see at
the Primary School, and presumably only those who, like Fiona, lived a good
distance from it.  Fiona said there was a bus route, which Petra preferred
as it gave her more contact with school-friends, but often too Fiona drove
too and fro.

   Petra came out with a group of three other girls, laughing and
chattering away.  My heart bounded when I saw her so happy and beautiful:
no boys in the group, I noticed.  At twelve the girl-set had not yet
started to be broken up by boy-friends!  It would not be long now, though,
I guessed, as some of them were really very attractive, sexy even, and none
more so than my own Petra.  I dismissed the thought with some disgust... 
what was I?  A bloody pedo?  These were innocent girls, scarcely more than
children.  I should be ashamed of such thoughts, even for one second!

   I told her as she got in my car that her mummy was now in her hospital
bed and comfortable, and we would go and visit her Friday afternoon when
she had had the op.



   Fiona had left a lamb stew in the oven and we had that with potatos and
beans that Petra prepared.  She helped with the washing up and then went to
her room to do her homework.  I sat down and watched the cricket on Sky,
and then an episode of Time Team.

   She came down to say goodnight at about nine, and those forbidden
thoughts crossed my mind again.  Her night-wear was a rather beat-up and
worn looking pyjama jacket, a bit too small for her and tight enough over
her chest to emphasise what I guessed to be small but perky breasts: the
fabric was worn thin enough to see the outline of nipples.  But what made
my cock stir was the cotton panties, high cut and emphasising her long,
tanned legs and worse still so tight at the crotch that there was a clear
"camel toe".  I could make out the shape of a pretty mound-of-venus, and
more disturbing still the outline of her labia.

   I wished her goodnight and kissed her chastely, a little peck on her
forehead.

   My erection would not go away, and I jerked off thinking, despite myself
of those little breasts, that half-revealed pussy, long legs and a cute,
jutting little butt.  Despite my hand-relief I dreamed that night about
teenage girls, some almost identical with Petra, some remembered fro I know
not where, stored up in my subconscious mind I suppose.

   Perhaps I was a pedo!  Though really you could only be a pedophile by
what you do, not by what you think, and I had no intention of doing
anything to harm my little treasure.



   Friday we drove from school to the Hospital and spent an hour with
Fiona: she thought the op had gone well though her knee was quite painful
now and she was on pain-killers, but they expected to discharge her on
Sunday.  She would have to be careful about not too much walking for a few
days and then would be as right as rain.

   I picked up some fish and chips on the way back.

   Petra said she would do her homework over the weekend and we chatted and
watched the television (I let her choose the channels) until she said she
was going to shower and wash her hair.

   I saw a new vision of beauty when she came down after her shower,
holding the hair-dryer and a brush, her body I assumed naked under one of
the huge, fluffy white bath towels.  Would I dry her hair and then brush it
like her mummy always did?

   Would I not!

   So I became the lady's maid for a quarter of an hour.  Her hair is
really lovely, ash-blonde and shoulder length, and so fine.  And when I
brushed it it shone.  I could understand why they make girls cover their
heads in church (though apart from weddings and funerals I've never been to
one!): long blonde hair is dead-sexy!  As are young tanned shoulders
supporting the white towel and slender legs sometimes peeping out from
under it.
It would be so easy to slip with the brush and dislodge the towel so it
slipped down to reveal her teenage breasts and nipples to her lusting

grandad!  How delightful it would be to see them, feel them, kiss them....

   Ashamed I dismissed the thought, told her she was lovely and especially
her hair which looked even better loose to her shoulders than tied back in
a pony-tail for school!

   She later came down again, top as before but the knickers were a little
satin and lace confection, white satin and pale blue lace.  They were loose
and I found myself wondering whether she was deliberately tempting her
grandad and where on earth she had got these really rather adult panties.
Surely not borrowed from her mother?  I rejected the ideas as unworthy,
products of my increasingly dirty mind.  I really would have to stop these
fantasies...  she was my grandaughter, dammit!  And yet....  and yet.... 
The new combination with that little satin pouch so loose over her mound
and labia had the same effect on my cock, which had a life of its own and
was not at all interested in pedophile-hysteria or incest taboos!

   Before I too went to bed I showered and jacked off under the hot water
fantasising about her body, about nuzzling my face into those damp, satin
folds....

   Afterwards I was feeling guilty and dirty but at least I could get to
sleep even though my dreams were still worrying, full of nubile little
girls with perky breasts.



   Saturday morning I had the pleasure of seeing Petra in her weekend
clothes.  I loved her school uniform, of course, and especially the crisp
white shirt and school tie, so clean and innocent and yet so feminine in
the way her little breasts filled the poplin!  The school uniform included
black tights under a grey, pleated skirt and although the school rules
specified the length of that skirt my Petra, like all her friends, managed
to raise the hemline to about mid-calf.  Visions of St Trinians!  No wonder
dirty old men, pedos (like me?) fantasised running their hands up those
slim legs towards the so-desired honey-pot!  Good job the tights were
cotton and not nylon or my admiration of her in her school blazer and black
court shoes would have been explicitly sexual and even more difficult to
control.  As it is, that school uniform and that blonde pony-tail now
figured in my disturbing dreams and my guilt-producing but massively
orgasmic masturbation fantasies.  The sooner her mother was back home and I
could get back to my hum-drum, no-Petra existence the better.

   It was a sunny morning, and Petra wore a tight cotton top, white with a
pink rose on the front, and tight denim shorts, very short indeed and it
was almost as if she was emphasising her crotch area.  Surely not?  But
there's no doubt any man's eye would be drawn there first, to the
suggestive mound and tight folds, to the gap between her slender legs at
the top of her thighs.....  and only then, of course, to the outline of her
bra-less breasts.  I had jerked off in the shower but still had a hard-on
under my own, more decent shorts.

   The news at the Hospital was not good, but not too worrying.  They were
not expecting Fiona to be discharged till Monday now.  We told her we were
managing well and that today I was going to cook one of my famous curries
with Petra doing all the accompaniments.

   We left some flowers and grapes and The Times, and then went to
MacDonalds and on to the Museum of London.

   Cooking and eating together, even washing up was fun, and Petra went to
her room to do her homework.

   When she came down, the satin naughty knickers as before but the grotty
old pj jacket replaced now by a white satin shorty nightie, probably the
top half of a set that should have full french-knickers and not that flimsy
little thong.

   I was sitting on the settee watching The Simpsons and she plonked down
beside me, so close her naked thigh touched my (trousered) legs.  Her arms
went around my neck and she hugged me.

   "Mummy will be all right, won't she?  She looked ill."

   "She's having the very best care there is.  And it's not a very serious
op."

   Her breast ws pressing against my arm and chest, and it was, frankly,
sexually arousing.  I put it down to innocence and that she did not see her
grandad as anything other than a friendly relative, in no way an active
male who would be turned on by her young body, not naked but even enhanced
by the satin and lace, by the perfume of lemon from her shower, by her
shining blonde hair down to her shoulders, by her full lips, blue eyes,
slender legs....  by that clearly outlined pussy.....

   I was turned on.  I lusted after her.  I wanted to caress her, suck her
pussy, fuck her.  God!  She was so lovely and so loving.

   This had to stop!

   I unwound myself from her arms and stood up....  but in so doing must
have made bm arousal patently clear to her if she knew anything about hard
cocks.

   "I'm going to get a beer.  You want a coke."

   "Please grandad.  I'm feeling hot too".

   Jesus!  Was that a come-on or was it just an innocent, factual comment.
I cursed myself for even thinking such filth, for allowing my cock to do my
thinking.

   I drank my beer and announced I wanted an early night, was going to bed.
Anything to get away from this temptation before I did something I knew I
would regret, something that would lead on to worse and worse until my new
pedo awareness was given its head and I broke the law and countless moral
laws too.

   I jerked off, shamelessly thinking about fondling her breasts under that
loose satin top, fingering her labia under that over-large satin pouch.  I
came a massive amount of spunk and, oddly, for the first time felt no
guilt. I had warded off almost impossible temptation.  I was relieved and
proud I had lusted after this beauty even though she was only twelve, even
though my own grandaughter, but had fought the temptation and won.

   How little I knew!

   Sunday afternoon we were greeted at the Hospital by a grave-faced ward
sister.  Fiona had been moved to Intensive Care, was being barrier-nursed
and in any case was in a medically induced coma.  We could see her through
the glass windows but not enter, and obviously she could not sleep.  A guy
in a white coat introduced himself...  the name hardly registered....  and
explained that Fiona had septicemia, probably from an MRSA organism she had
herself brought into the hospital.  Her kidneys and heart had been attacked
and she was very gravely ill: no he was unwilling to speculate what her
chances were, sadly.

   When we got home I looked up on the internet death-rates from MRSA and
found it was between 30% and 50%.  I did not tell Petra, but she has a
laptop too, and knows how to use it....



   That night Petra had a nightmare and I was awoken by her screams.

   I rushed to her room and she was still asleep, muuttering, writhing
about, sweating.  I gently woke her by kissing her sweaty forehead, telling
her it was all right.

   "I was so scared, grandad".

   She was shivering and I cuddled her.  It was July and the house was warm
so the shivering was not cold...  I held her tight, for once forgetting her
body in my concern for her child-like fears.  I knew only too well what had
provoked the nightnmare, although she had already forgotten the content of
the dream.

   "Let me sleep in your bed tonight, grandad.  I'm so afraid."

   I hesitated, not trusting myself, but the little girl was so woe-begone,
so frightened....

   I was using the double bed in Fiona's spare room: Petra's was a little
single divan.  So I lifted her up and carried her through to my room.  It
was only as I laid her on the bed that I remembered I was naked: I always
sleep naked and in my panic when I heard her screaming and my distress at
her distress I had thought only of her.

   Nothing I could do about it now!

   I put the light very dim and lay down beside her, covering us both with
the same double duvet.

   I lay there hardly daring to move until I heard her regular breathing
and knew she was sleeping.

   I knew she was not wearing her satin pretties, but had returned to
ordinary little girl pjs, tops and bottoms all cotton, all rather worn. 
But I also knew she was asleep and only inches from me, and that all I had
to do was to reach quietly, softly out to cup her so-desired breast, even
to slip a hand under her loose pyjama jacket and fondle the naked flesh,
her puffy little nipples.  Or feel her crotch, slide my hand down the
waistband and discover the promised land of her teenage pubes, her mons,
the lips of her cunt, between them......

   My cock was raging and hard, but I dare not touch it and to jerk off
with my grandaughter inches from me was unthinkable.

   These thoughts were despicable...  only twelve and so innocent, and her
mother, my daughter in law in deadly danger.  She had already lost her
daddy to a sniper's bullet, and now seemed likely to lose her mummy to a
random infection.  Life was hard sometimes, and I felt tenderness and love
welling up in me: I would have liked to cuddle her but could not trust
myself for fear of the other emotions I also felt, raw lust for her lithe
and desirable body.

   So I lay there listening to her breathing until after a long time I fell
asleep.

   The red display of the alarm clock showed three twenty when I woke to
find her warm little body coiled over mine as I lay on my back, her head on
my chest, her arms around me, her thigh actually resting on my cock.  Which
was hard.

   I tried to move herleg to a position safer (for me in my desperate
conflict between lust and morals) but she stirred and half awoke.

   A sleepy voice said again "Cuddle me, grandad.  Cuddle me...."

   So I did, my hand on her breast feeling the roundness firm beneath the
cheap cotton, feeling her nipple stiffen under my palm.

   "That's nice, grandad."

   A little hand grasped my free hand, laying frozen and immobile on the
bedsheet, and placed it on her tummy, just above the mound, and then moved
it gradually down until it was over her mons, fingers down over the crotch
of her pj bottoms where they had ridden up to separate her outer lips with
a crease of damp cotton.  Damp!  Oh my god....  Damp between her legs.  She
was aroused too!

   Now I was lost.  For a moment or two all my good resolutions were
forgotten, all doubts removed as I slipped a hand up under her py-jams and
felt the shape of her ribs, north then to her small, firm breast and the
surprisingly long and puffy nipple.  I stroked it and felt her sigh and
relax.  This was what she really meant by "cuddle".

   So why not her belly and pussy?  I had crossed the bridge and taken the
forbidden road.  Why stop now?  The breasts were forbidden too and I had
indulged.  Why not her lovely little pussy?  I pulled her pyjama bottoms
down a bit and exposed her belly: I could feel it firm and smooth, but just
a suspicion of fine hair in a little triangle at the base.  I wondered if
this would be ash-blonde like her head, or golden little curls.  I stroked
her belly round and round, my hand getting ever closer to her mons, to her
pussy.  She opened her legs just very slightly more and I wondered if this
was in her sleep or if it was an invitation to venture more.  In my
newly-liberated eagerness I assumed the latter and felt the swelling mound
of her mons with my cupped palm.  She sighed.  Asleep?  Awake?  Didn't
matter as she was obviously happy with what I was doing, at least so far.

   Her cunt-lips were plump and as smooth as her belly, no hair there yet,
and the disgraceful thought went through my mind that it would be a delight
to bury my face in there, to kiss, lick, suck, even penetrate with a
pointed tongue.  But for the moment all I did was to slip a finger between
the outer lips and find her crease juicy, wet, truly aroused, I ran my
finger down towards her anus and then up again: her clitoris was erect, a
hard little nub amid the softness of her inner lips.  I pressed it,
eliciting another sigh and an inviting movement of her hips.  So now I
really masturbated her, as I had not done to a pussy for many a year and
never, never, never to a twelve-yearold's.

   I had never even imagined making love to an under-age girl.  How far I
had fallen!

   In the years I enjoyed her body Petra was never noisy when she came,
telling me much later that she had learned to masturbate years before We
played together, and that the walls were so thin in the flat she had to
keep quiet as she did not want mummy to hear!  But I knew she had come by
the gripping of my finger that I had, recklessly probably, inserted in her
vagina, by the movement of her hips and by the little panting, grunting
noises I soon got to know and love so well.

   Now she was quiet and did sleep.  I lay there, raging hard cock, not
knowing whether she had been awake or asleep while I first sampled the
delights of her young, forbidden body.

   Finally I slept too.



   In the morning she woke first and I awoke to find the daylight streaming
in the window and a naked little girl cuddling me her naughty little hand
actually gripping my as-ever erect cock.

   "That was lovely last night, grandad.  I never knew it could be so good,
much better than..."

   "Than what, angel?" I was still half awake or I would have known!

   "Than when I do it for myself, silly.  Do boys do it too?"

   "They certainly do!  Like this."

   I was bursting for a piss but this was too good to put off, even for the
relief a piss would give!  I rubbed my cock a few times up and down,
looking at the beauties I had felt under the duvet during the night.

   'Is it better if someone does it for you, grandad?"

   "I should think so, angel, but no-one ever has for me."

   No response but this lovely little girl took my hand away from my cock
and placed it on her breast, and then started to rub my cock up and down.

   I wanted the moment to last, but how long could I hold out, looking at,
fondling her teenage breasts, the pink aureoles and the puffy nipples, the
flat belly and still little-girl closed outer lips of her labia?  Her body
had been honed by swimming and gymnastics and, with the beauty of her hair
and face, her body was as near physical perfection one could get.

   And it was mine to enjoy, given to me willingly, eagerly.

   I forgot to warn her I was coming and the first jet of hot spunk
splatted up her arm and onto her face.  It did not stop her rubbing me and
the second huge spurt went over her breasts, some onto her chin and lips.
The third was just for her hand....

   "Cor!  Is that sperm?"

   "It is!"

   "We did that in Biology last year, but he didn't tell us it would squirt
or be so much!"

   Now I really was bursting for a piss, and with some difficulty with a
half-hard cock still I managed it.  When I got back she was gone and I
could hear the shower running, I guessed she wanted to remove all the
sticky, so I just had my shave while I waited for her.



   I think we were both astounded by what had just happened to us.

   Petra with the new knowledge of male passion, male explosive spunking.

   Her grandaddy with the new knowledge that even at twelve a little girl
could have all the sxuality of a grown-woman, and how much more delightful
to the older pedo when that female lust was manifested in a
still-child-like body.  Breasts yes, but hips, legs and above all pussy
still with the slender, smooth innocence of the child.

   "You know if anyone else knew what happened last night I could get
locked up in prison?"

   "Oh, grandad.  That would be terrible!  Non-one will ever know, not even
my friends, not even mummy".



   We went by bus and then I walked with Petra to school that Monday
morning: she looked so pretty in her school uniform, and as she met with
her friends along the way they were all so happy, and to be honest so
desirable in their fetish-awakening black tights, short skirts, plumping
white cotton shirts, school ties, black blazers.
"This is my grandad", she said with pride, and I was introduced to
Traceys, Dianes, Emmas and so on.  I can't remember the girls being so

pretty when I was a boy!

   So different from my next walk to the school at mid-day, after the phone
call.......

   Thank goodness Mrs McCoughlin the Junior School Head was there to help.

   The children were just ending their lunch-break and she went herself to
find Petra and bring her to me in her office.

   I had asked her to stay with me while I told Petra, and I was glad for
her support though there was not the gale of tears I had feared.  Rather
Petra took the news of her mother's death with a white-faced, shocked
stillness that was perhaps even more difficult for me to bear.  The poor
little girl had already lost a father, and now she was an orphan.

   Clearly she could not go to classes in the afternoon.

   Mrs McCoughlin hugged her and told her that if she felt ok to come to
school tomorrow, then she should come to the office first.

   I would have loved to have hugged Petra myself, but did not dare....



   We went into MacDonalds for a bite to eat on the way home, and Petra was
very subdued as you might expect.  To cheer her up I suggested Regents Park
and a visit to the Zoo since it was a sunny, warm day.  That worked and she
was a lot more like herself.

   I cooked ham eggs and chips for dinner and a couple of apple pies from
the supermarket.

   She slept in my bed as before, but there was no sex....I guess neither
of us felt like it.

   But in the middle of the night I woke up, and Petra must have noticed as
I heard a faint little voice....

   'Are you awake, grandad?'

   'Mmmm, angel.'

   Her arms around me, her body pressed against my back, and I could feel
her breasts despite her pjs.  That made me stiff, as ever!

   'I'm so worried, grandad.  Will they send me to an orphanage?'

   'No.  No danger of that.  Your mummy told me long ago that if anything
happened to her I should look after you, and I agreed.  Would you like
that?'

   'Oh, grandad, I love you so much.'

   I could feel her lips on my naked back as she kissed me, and then she
went straight to sleep and I lay there listening to her regular breathing.
Years of delight with my little angel beckoned me....



   The next morning it was school as usual, while I read the will, which I
had already seen two years before as executor, told our few relatives, her
employer, her Church and the friends and the contacts in her address book.

   I had the funeral fixed for Friday with a service in her Church (she had
been a Catholic), and burial in the cemetary.  I booked a room at the pub
close to the Cemetary where they were geared up especially for what I
estimated to be a fairly small gathering.

   In the evening and through the night we made up for lost time with
plenty of caresses, and four cums for her, two for me.  It was obvious
Petra was not too heart-broken by the change in her life, and that she
loved her grandad more than she had her mother!

   I dressed her properly for the funeral and she looked so demure and
beautiful in a plain black dress, that managed to cling to her lovely young
figure and was a decent length for once over black tights.....  glossy ones
this time to please this old pedo!  A little black hat perched on her
blonde pony-tail, and her black court shoes completed the ensemble.  God!
She would make a saint cream his pants, let alone an old pedo like me!

   The whole funeral went off like clockwork and my estimate of forty at
the graveside and in the pub after was about right.  Most were work
colleagues and friends, and from her small family only her brother-in-law
and sister were along.  I managed during the wake-reception to do the
necessary business with them.  I told them I was appointed Executor and had
read the will, which was a simple one leaving everything to Petra, me to
look after it until she was eighteen.  There was a section saying I should
be the girl's guardian, and I told them I had agreed to this several years
before and had no problem.  Petra and I got on well with each other (!),
and in fact I was staying in the flat looking after Petra while her mother
went for her operation.  Petra was happy with the arrangement which meant
she would not lose her school-friends, swimming and gymnastic coaches as
well as her mummy.

   I would probably move into the flat, and use rents from my now empty
house to cover the mortgage for Petra: it still had about five years to
run.

   Her sister and the woman's husband looked relieved: they must have
feared the girl would be landed on them!  I was relieved too: I did not
want to seem too keen, but I certainly was, for reasons you now know!



   All through the service, the burial, the reception I had been lusting
after her, and as soon as it was decent I left the guests to their drinks
and canapes and, pleading it being a difficult day for Petra, took her home
by cab.

   I managed to keep my hands off her in the taxi, especially as I good see
the lecherous driver continually glacing at her in his mirror.  In the
years since I have become sensitized to teenage sexuality I have so often
noticed that look in guy's eyes, a mixture of lust for the nubile youngster
and envy for the lucky guy who presumably was enjoying her young body in
the most complete way!

   During the journey I told her the flat was hers now, and that I would
move in with her.  She must help me get my clothes and some books and
things over at the weekend, and then we would see about letting my house.
Or would she rather live there and we let the flat.

   I was happy when she said we should live in the flat as it was nearer
the school and my house would have been a tube journey, then a bus-ride and
a walk.  She really perked up now, and I realised all remaining doubts and
worries had been removed!  I could have kissed her then and there on the
seat of the black cab.  Obviously not!

   But as soon as we had shut the door behind us I had her in my arms, one
arm round her, the other up under her dress feeling her glossy legs and
bum, and was kissing her equally eager mouth.  I felt her hand on my cock
verifying I was hard!  I felt round to her pussy.  Damp even through
panties and tights!

   'Let's go to bed right now, grandad!'

   There must have been a trail of clothes, hers and mine, all the way from
the front door to the main bedroom as we tore them off in a dash for the
paradise of that mattress!  We arrived, me naked, she in the little black
nylon panties I had bought her to complete her funeral get-up.

   Laying on the bed I just had to nuzzle her there, burying my face in the
shiny crotch, smelling the lovely scent of the aroused girl.  I pulled the
panties down, she lifted her bum to help me, and they joined her tights on
the floor by the bed.  Now her naked pussy was inches from my face.  I
forgot all my former good resolutions about limiting our pleasures to
touching....  no more than that.  The lovely plump lips were so pretty, and
close up I could see just a few wisps of fine golden hair, but so nearly
bare.  and so desirable, plumped up by her passion for this old man, who
though fit and muscular was nonetheless well past middle age.  Amazing! 
And so fortunate!  I knew her passion for me as her lips had opened just
slightly and I could see the little pink nub of her hard clitoris just
peeping out from its hood.

   I parted her lips with one hand each side, and she was certainly
aroused, glistening with the juices, the dampness I had felt earlier.

   Unthinking I kissed her clitoris.

   She flinched, but it was just surprised pleasure as I heard her little
groan and two hands held my head and pushed it down onto her pussy.

   I snuffled the juice, the scent, and then licked.

   This was not just touching: this was approaching real sex.  But what the
hell!  She wanted it, I wanted it, we were both desperate for it, so what
had it to do with anyone else, Church, Law, Society?  It was our business
and ours alone.

   And it was so good to hear her exclamations of pleasure as I licked
around her clit and up and down her inner lips.  My tongue kept passing
over her vaginal opening, and also without premeditation, without thinking,
I stuck my pointed tongue into her.

   Was this penetration legally rape?

   I didn't give a damn if it was or not.  She loved it and told me so.  So
now I sucked and nibbled her clit while I finger fucked her pussy, juices
running over my fist.

   And she came, this time not silent but with a whoop of joy and a series
of loud grunts, each of which coincided with a lovely vaginal grip on my
invading finger!

   I had a wonderful feeling of relief: no more the half-way house of
mutual masturbation.  I was sure that this would satisfy my probably
perverted libido and, after all, compared with the altogether adult sex of
vaginal penetration....  for a second even anal penetration crossed my mind
only to be instantly supressed!....  compared with that just kissing a
young girl, albeit in an intimate place, was, after all only kissing. 
Wasn't it?  And she wanted it as much as me.

   But more was to follow.  The floodgates had been opened!

   Petra turned round on the bed till her face was close to my belly, and
KISSED MY COCK!

   In my dreams she, and other girls had sucked me, but in my waking self I
had rejected the idea as being too extreme even for a pedo like me.  And
yet I knew that I really wanted her to, more particularly my aching balls
and straining cock wanted to release their load into her little mouth,
between those full, rose-red lips.

   Her lips closed over my knob and I was lost in the physical pleasure of
the warmth and wetness around my cock, and i the psychological delight of
knowing that a young girl, scarcely more than a child had of her own
volition started to suck me off.

   She gazed up at me with a sort of admiring look in her clear blue, so
little-girl innocent eyes and as well as the lust I felt a great tenderness
for her.

   More of my cock slipped into her mouth and I felt her tongue fluttering
up and down the front of it: she had learned in our masturbation every
night that I was particularly sensitive where the shaft met the helmet, and
that I felt the most pleasure there.  That was where her tongue played as
my cock slipped in and out of her lips as her head bobbed up and down.

   I groaned in my pleasure, and she worked even faster.

   I held her head between both hands feeling the fine hair slip through my
fingers, looking at her young body, so slender except for those beautiful
plump, firm breasts!

   Then, just as my orgasm was rising in my rectum and balls she slid a
finger into my anus, only a half an inch or so but the gesture was so
unexpected so naughty, so lovely in an under-age still-virgin girl that I
knew I would cum.

   I could have pulled out I suppose, but she had seen my cum often enough,
and when it splattered on her face I had seen her slyly lick at it dripped
around her lips....  so I knew she would be surprised neither at the volume
nor the texture and flavour, if any.

   I'm glad I did not pull out as my first spurt filled her mouth and I
could se her swallowing before the second and third added to it.  None
escped her lips!  And as my cock just quietened down to occasional twitches
she kept it in her mouth, kept her finger in my bum, and looked again with
that loveing gaze direct in my eyes.

   Lovely!



   Masturbation after that was just the caressing prelude to oral sex from
now on....  and we were at it as much as four, sometimes five times a day,
though that was the amount she came not me.  at my age, even with a lovely
and loving little girl as plaything, two a day was about my limit as things
settled down.



   This went on for several weeks until one afternoon she was a bit later
than usual back from school.  I wasn't worried as I assumed she had just
forgotten to tell me about some after-school activity or other.

   But when she came in about six thirty I could sense, as she greeted her
grandad with a kiss as usual, she was worried about something.

   I did not ask, knowing it best to let her tell me in her own time if she
wanted to.

   It was after dinner, and we were sitting on the sofa having watched the
news, her in her school skirt and shirt, me in my shorts ad a t-shirt.  I
know I had a hand resting on her breast.....  but then I nearly always did!

   'I think you are going to be cross, grandad....'

   'I don't think so, my angel: I'm never cross with you.'

   And it all came tumbling out, uninterrupted by me even when there was a
pause sometimes.

   'I've got a friend called Grace.  Actually her first name is Adjoa which
means she was born on Monday but in England she uses her middle name.  She
lives quite near, in Lansdown Place, so we often walk back from the
bus-stop together.  We were near her place when the storm broke this
afternoon and as we hadn't got our anaraks I went inside with her till it
passed.

   'Anyway we were sitting on the settee, just like we are now, grandad,
and she was telling me a story.  She's full of jokes and stories and it was
so funny I was giggling and then laughing out loud.  it was so funny we
were both laughing and hugging each other.

   'And then it happened!  I did not even think about it but found we were
kissing and it was like when we kiss, grandad, I mean exciting and making
me tingle down there!  She had her hand inside my shirt, like you have now,
grandad, and was feeling my tits, and I could feel hers pressed aginst me
so I popped a button and felt hers.  Then her other hand was up my skirt
stroking my legs through my tights, and then feeling in my crotch.  I bet I
was all wet!

   'I wanted to as well, and I did, I put my hand up her skirt too.

   'We were still kissing, all tongues and lips.

   'And then it was like that day we came back from the funeral: we were
just tearing our clothes off until we were both naked and rolling about on
the carpet now.  Then Grace was sucking my clitty, and I wanted to as well,
so I did.

   'There, grandad.  That's what happened.  Are you angry?  Jealous?'

   'And is she fair of face?'

   She had a questioning look....

   'You know the rhyme...Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is
full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far
to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for
a living, But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day Is bonny and blithe
and good and gay.'

   'That's nice!  She's very beautiful and brown not really black.  And
she's really fit: we go to swimming together and she plays a lot of
football and cricket.  She's almost a year younger than me, only eleven,
and is in the class lower, but she's as tall as me, though with her Afro
hair that's cheating a bit, and she's got nice tits already.  You'd like
her tits, grandad!  I did!'

   'You were born on the Sabbath day, my little angel, and I could never be
angry with you, or jealous: I just want you to be happy.  And you are so
sexy in that school uniform I'm not surprised she wanted you.'

   'And me her!  I think the school make us wear them because they think
they are un-sexy: but if they knew how men look at us in the street....  in
the park is even worse!  You can tell from their eyes what they are
thinking....'

   'What I'm thinking now!'

   I was also thinking that I would like to have seen the two teenage girls
naked and sucking each other off.  The very thought of that was making me
super-horny!

   I picked her up, carried her to our bed, pulled her tights and knickers
off together and buried my face in her hot, wet pussy.



   And so life went on happily for both of us for several weeks, oral sex
and lots of it, even more for Petra, who was a bit late back from school
several days a week!

   Until one night, after we had sucked each other off, and while we were
still cuddling before going to sleep...

   'I wish we could do it properly, grandad.  I wish you would fuck me. 
I'm sure it would be lovely....  for both of us.'

   My real reason for abstaining had been the final taboo against incest
but I was not going to admit that to her.

   'And if you got pregnant?'

   'You could use a condom.'

   'They are not a hundred percent you know, especially if the man is not
used to them.  I've never used one before and would probably get it
wrong....'

   'Grace is on the pill.  I could go on the pill and we would not need
condoms.'

   'How did she get on the pill?  I mean at eleven!

   'She's nearly twelve and had her first period ages ago, same time as I
did roughly.  She's got tits as big as mine.  Anyway I'll ask her how she
did it.'



   The very next day she sat me down on the settee, got me a cup of tea and
told me about it!  Grace had written down the address of a clinic where
they handed out birth control to girls of any age after puberty if they
were sexually active.  It was part of an inner-city program to reduce
teenage pregnancies.  Apparently round our way a majority of under-age
teens were at it.  My mind boggled: all those nubile young girls with their
perky tits, all fucking!  I was born forty years too late!

   There was a telephone number too.

   'Grace says I should say I've had three partners when they ask, and that
my present boyfriend hasn't always got a condom and wants sex in any case,
so I have to push him off or do things I don't really like.  Like my mouth
or bottom.' Petra got the giggles for a moment.  And I must also say I'm
worried that I may give way to him as I want it too!  Her uncle took her
along, and said he was worried when he found out she was sexually active,
found a used condom in their loo.  It was all lies, but it worked!'

   'And has she got a regular boyfriend?'

   'No!  But she lives with her uncle.  Her mum and dad are in Ghana and
they sent her here for good schooling, so she lives with her uncle.'

   'And he's the one who fucks her?'

   'I promised not to tell anyone, and so did she.  Are you angry,
grandad?'

   'I expect she's told her uncle about us, petra, but he isn't going to
tell anyone.  No.  it'll be all right, my angel.  And I will phone this
number.'



   The appointment was the next saturday morning, a short bus ride away. 
And it all went exactly as Grace had described, Petra coming away with a
three-month supply of pills and a leaflet telling her when to take them,
when not etc.

   On the bus back she whispered to me 'I took the first one in the clinic.
The lady told me that because I had regular periods and because of my days
since the last it woulsd be ok to have sex tonight.'

   Not for the first time I wanted to hug and kiss her in public, but did
not of course, just whispering in her ear 'You just wait!'

   Petra wanted to go to bed immediately of course, but we both knew it was
sensible to wait till night as the doctor said, so I took us to the cinema
to fill a few hours.  It was The Lion King, for the second time!  And then
a pizza, and then home.....  and bed.



   I carried her through the bedroom door, the bridegroom carrying his
virgin bride over the threshold!  I expected Petra to get the giggles at
this, but she seemed to be treating it as a serious, even romantic moment,
and kissed me as I lay her on the bed, still fully clothed.

   I undressed her slowly....  not that there was much to take off, just
her shoes and white cotton socks, her tight white top, denim skirt, and
finally her sensible white cotton little-girl panties.  And there she was,
my little naked angel, smiling up at me, relaxed, legs apart, pert little
breasts standing so proud.

   It was a matter of seconds for me to strip naked and join her on the
bed, cock standing ready!

   Neither of us wanted foreplay, both desperate after months of teasing
each other with oral sex.

   I lay on top of her, propped on one elbow, and wiped my cock a few times
up and down her crease, lips open and welcoming for me.  She was hot and
juicy there and my cock had been leaking pre-cum like never before.  With
each pass I could feel the opening of her vagina.  I let my knob rest
exactly there and now supported myself on both elbows.

   I pushed and felt the warmth and wetness as her vagina enclosed my knob.
I pushed again and my whole shaft sank into her till my belly was against
hers and I knew she had accepted my full length.

   I had forgotten how good it was....  so much time had passed since I
last fucked.  No!  It had never been as good as this, this tight but
slippery and welcoming cunt, this so-willing and eager teenage girl,
desperate to give her grandad the gift of her virginity, to take from him
the pleasure she had dreamed of.

   'I won't break, grandad.  Do me hard!  Please!'

   I allowed myself to collapse onto her so she took my full weight, and
could feel her breasts against my chest, her head in the cleft of my
shoulder and arm, kissing and licking as I fucked her, in and out.  Her
arms tightened around my back, her legs too round me, ankles crossed.  Her
finger nails in my back, painful as she came with those little squeals,
exclamations and finally the series of grunts that announced her orgasm.  I
speeded up and gave her the full force of my hips.

   But I did not cum, controlling myself, helped by the pain of the
scratches down my back and the biting of my chest: controlling myself
despite the vigorous gripping and releasing, gripping, releasing of her
vagina, strengthened by all that swimming and gymnastics, as well as by
weeks of oral sex with me and I supposed with Grace too.

   I slowed down to deep, slow thrusts and within minutes she was coming
again so I speeded up as before.

   I had read about women who are "multi-orgasmic" and soon I realised that
this twelve-year-old girl was one, or perhaps had been taught by me to be
one, as she wentinto a whole series of orgasms, no longer her quiet self
but shrieking with joy, arms and legs holding me into her, nails clawing at
my back.  My cock felt like a steel rod with wings as I ploughed her tight
furrow until at last she pleaded with me.

   'Grandad!  Please, grandad, no more.  I can't do any more....'

   But she was coming again, tight, juicy cunt gripping me with all the
vigour of a fit teenager....

   I let her come and then, managing to keep my knob in place inside her,
turned her on her side and then on her belly.  My arms under her I pulled
her into the kneeling position and as I did so my cock slid again into her
till my thighs rested against her bum.

   I pulled her lovely, rounded buttocks apart to see her tight anus, a
pink-petalled flower.  "One day!", I promised myself!  But it was time to
finish.

   I slowly pulled my cock out and pushed it in again, fascinated by the
way her labia gripped it so that the lips were pulled in slightly and then
stretched out on the withdrawal.  I watched this several times, but then I
speeded up, jabbing thrusts that made my thighs crash into her bottom.

   She was coming again, this time with a series of grunts.

   I reached under her with both arms and my hands found the familiar
territory of her breasts, always the most incredibly sexy part of her young
body.  I grasped them and had extra leverage in my fucking.  This was now a
big, long orgasm for her and as her cunt gripped my cock I allowed myself
to cum, pumping deep inside her.  Again.  And again.

   Afterwards we rolled over side-ways, exhausted.

   After a couple of minutes I realised she was sobbing.

   My God!  What had I done?

   I let my half-hard cock slip out and turned her on her back, laying on
my side beside her.

   She was sobbing, but smiling!

   I kissed her lightly, chastely on her forehead and then her nose. 
Tenderness and real love welled up in me....

   'Oh, grandad, that was so lovely.  I never knew.  I mean they said it
was good, but I never knew....'

   'For me too, my angel.'



   Sex was always good with Petra and for Petra, but never quite as
all-embracing as that first time.  As the months went by we became like a
married couple, enjoying our love-making, using foreplay a lot (she loved
to be sucked off and I often started intending to cum in her mouth for a
change, but nearly always finding the temptation of her pretty, hairless
pussy too much, and coming inside her.  She preferred that in any case.

   Her breasts grew larger, but would never be really large, and stayed
just as shapely and firm.  Her pussy started to become hairy but she waxed
it all away as she knew I liked the little-girl smoothness there, the
additional nakedness of the completely smooth lips and mons.

   And, of course, I got to enjoy her extra-tight arsehole too!

   Our foreplay had long included me licking her there and sometimes
inserting a couple of fingers as I sucked her clit or while I was fucking
her pussy from behind.  So she got used to anal penetration, and when she
had the first period a couple of weeks after that famous first fuck, she
knelt down and told me to fuck her in the arse.

   I knew she did not like it much, but did it out of love for her grandad,
understanding his desire to possess his little girl in every possible way.
I loved the tightness there and always came very quickly, it becoming a
standard part of our lovemaking at those times of each month....



   And so life went on happily into winter.

   Then the first Saturday in January we woke up in the morning to snow on
the ground, and lots of it.  We decided after our morning fuck and
breakfast to walk round the block to the little park and look at the wintry
scene.

   Grace and her uncle had the same thought and I was introduced to her and
Kwame.  I had imagined a man well into middle age, but he could not have
been more than thirty, probably mid twenties.  We were all so wrapped up in
heavy clothing it was difficult to get much idea of either of them, but we
had a lot of fun with snowballs, and other parents and children joined in.
It was happy chaos.  Pandemonium!  When we were all excited, and covered
with the powdery snow, Kwame invited us round to his place, which
over-looked the little park, for a warming drink.



   I keep our flat on the warm side, partly because I'm at home most of the
day, but mainly because I love to see my grandaughter wandering about in
various states of undress.  Well, so would you if you had a pretty and
elegantly-shaped teenage girl living with you!

   However, Kwame's apartment was several degrees warmer than I was used
to, and off came all the winter clothing, right down to my shirt-sleeves,
and it was still hot.  I suppose he was used to the climate of his native
Ghana.  Anyway, the last thing I wanted was a warming drink, and we settled
for beers, which we drank from the bottle.

   The girls disappeared, leaving uncle and grandad to chat in the living
room.

   Despite the age difference we had a lot in common, and would you believe
it our conversation was mostly about mathematics.  Kwame had studied Math
at Oxford and now used it in his work designing software, while I had been
a banker working in the wilder reaches of investment banking where
mathematical algorithms ruled ok.  So we were getting on together very
well, and into our second bottle each when it occured to me the girls had
gone missing some time.

   'Where are the girls, Kwame?'

   'In bed having fun i should think?'

   'I knew they had sex together: Petra told me.'

   'All the time, Roger.  They're at it every chance they get.  They love
it!  have you seen them together?'

   'This is the first time I ever met your Grace: she's a really lovely
girl....'

   'Follow me, Roger.'

   I was about to say something but he motioned me to be silent, a finger
to his lips, so I followed him along the corridor to an open door where the
ummistakeable sounds of slurping and kissing could be heard.  The door was
half open and peeping round it I saw the most beautiful, and frankly sexy
sight: two naked girls, head to toes, sucking each other.  For the rest in
was a tangle of arms and legs, slender, some brown some white, lovely
bottoms and the occasional glimpse of young breasts, Petra and Grace in a
spirited sixty nine!  They were so engrossed in each others' bodies, so
wonderfully orgasmic they did not see the two voyeurs.....though I guess
they had left the door open with a purpose, the naughty little girls!
I caught Kwame's eye and he smiled and rubbed his crotch.  I was in the

same state, and I smiled and touched my own hard cock.

   So we returned to our beers, both now a bit more complicit in our pedo
status, both that bit more open with each other.

   That all became clearly explicit as we exchanged notes.  Grace was as
randy as my Petra, and happy to share her uncle's bed with him, loving his
attention to her pussy with mouth and penis.  I admitted it was the same
with me and Petra.  We had bonded male to male, pedo to pedo!

   We were in complete agreement about budding teenage tits, and especially
hairless pussies.

   'When I first had her Petra was hairless, but recently she waxes away
the little fuzz she has grown because she knows I like her smooth.'

   'Grace is still hairless, but there's just the suspicion of a fuzz, and
I'll have her wax it away soon, just as you have.'

   And at that moment the two girls breezed into the the room, stark naked,
stark buttock-lovely naked, stark breast-beautiful naked, smooth, hairless
cunt-lips naked!

   Petra went over to Kwame and sat in his lap, her arms around his neck,
and Grace squeezed in beside me in my arm-chair, offering her lips for me
to kiss, so we did, passionate and open-mouthed.  Of course my hand went
straight to her tits, just a bit smaller than Petra's now, but just as firm
and perky, just as silky smooth, nipples rolling lovely between my finger
and thumb as we embraced.  Then, without taking her mouth from mine, in
fact sticking her tongue in my mouth with some force as she did so, she
took my free hand and placed it over her pussy, legs slightly apart in so
far as the narrow armchair gave her room to spread them.  At the same time,
too, I felt her hand on my hard cock, gripping it through my trouser-cloth.

   'Let me see!'

   I had my finger between the outer lips of her cunt now, as she fiddled
with my zip and then with the clasp at my waist.  My flies were open now
and I felt her hand find the gap at the front of my boxers and pull my cock
out, at the very same time as I was exploring her pussy.  I was hard, and
she was so wet, as you would expect after forty minutes in bed with Petra,
let alone the stimulus of a cock in her hot little hand.

   'I've never seen a white guy's cock before, at least not hard.  It's
very handsome.'

   'And I've never seen a lovely black girl's pussy before either.  It's
very beautiful.'

   There was indeed just the suspicion of black fluff on her plump mons,
none on her cunt-lips.

   'Look.  Roger.  She's got Uncle Kwame naked.  let me see you naked, feel
you!'

   she was already popping the buttons on my open necked shirt.  I slipped
my shoes off, my socks too, and lifted my bum so she could pull my trousers
and underpants down together.  My cock sprang clear, so stiff it made my
balls ache.  Kwame shagged her!  I would shag her too!

   Now she was sitting astride me, and I could really admire her tits,
fondling and stroking them, leaning forward to kiss the silky skin, to
lick, to suck her nipples and feel them erect between my lips.

   Opposite, my randy little Petra was astride her new lover, but she was
ahead of us and I could see his lovely (yes I found it beautiful, my first
hard, black cock) cock sliding in and out her pussy as she bounced joyfully
up and down.  I felt no jealousy, just an increased sexual excitement
watching my grandaughter, muy lovely little-girl squeeze being fucked by a
handsome black man.  I could have licked her anus at that moment, tongue
sometimes slipping down to titillate that so-handsome cock from time to
time: but I had other fish to fry as Grace lifted herself, felt between us
for my cock, placed it, and sank down on it till her bottom rested on my
thighs and my cock was completely inside her.  Warm and wet!  And still not
quite twelve, I told myself.  Lovely with her brown, so smooth body, and
her near-conical breasts so close I could kiss them as she started to fuck
me.
I held her by her breasts as she bounced up and down on me, her arms
around my neck and with all the vigour of an athletic teen.  She did

gymnastics tooI remembered, like my Petra.

   Petra meanwhile was sprawled in the other armchair with Kwame on top of
her, and obviously drilling her as his bum rose and fell.

   Perversely I found myself thinking he had a cute bottom, muscular but
smooth and hairless: if I ever fucked a man it would be an arse like that.
And a cock like Kwame's I had briefly seen a few moments before.... 
straight, much darker brown than his body, cut with a pointy purple knob,
longer than mine but not as thick.  That would slide into me easily if I
ever wanted to lose my male virginity.

   I dismissed these thoughts, though they were to return over the next few
weeks.....

   Grace was coming, and I felt her vagina gripping me in spasms as she
muttered words I did not understand....  from her Ghana vocabulary I
assumed, in this moment of delerium.

   I held back....  was getting good at this.....  and when she had
finished turned her on her back and really went at her, crushing her tits
under my weight and feeling her arms and legs tight around me.

   She came again, and almost before the spasms stopped I had her kneeling
on the carpet her body along the seat of the armchair.

   Lovely little bottom, small, rounded and jutting more than my Petra's,
her brown cunt lips pursed, slightly open, glistening.  A hand on each
buttock, pulling them apart to reveal the darker-brown anus, so tight and
inviting, but it was her pussy I wanted and I placed my cock and with a
great shove penetrated till my white thighs met her brown bottom.

   what a sight!

   But this would not wait.  I needed to come, to relieve the almost aching
feel of delayed orgasm, so I shagged her with huge thrusts, my thighs
crashing into her.

   It would be a completely vaginal orgasm this time as neither hers nor my
fingers touched her clit, nor my cock.  But she was coming.

   I reached beneath her to grab one matchless teenage breast, and at that
moment felt her vagina tighten, and I came too.

   After, sitting squashed side-by-side in the chair, my arm round her neck
fondling her tit, her hand combing my body hair with little brown fingers,
she whispered in my ear.

   'I want to spend the night with you, Grandad Roger, have much more of
that.'

   I was silent.  In conflict.  She was so sexy with her perky tits and
hairless pussy, but Petra....

   'I mean it.  I really, really want it.'

   'But what about Petra?'

   'She's cool!  She wants to spend a night with Uncle Kwame.  We discussed
it before we came in here to you.'

   The naughty little girls had it all arranged!  I could see Petra
whispering in Kwame's ear and could guess what she was saying!

   'And you can fuck me in my bum-hole if you want.....'

   That swung it!  All night and all Sunday with this little beauty, with
the delights of that lovely arse added....



   The End, at least for now.