Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Title : Little Brown Girl Author : MeatBot Keywords : Pedo, Mg Date : 20150115 Mail : meatbot777 at gmail dot com This story : HTML - http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?topic=22582.0 text - /files/Authors/MeatBot/LittleBrownGirl%20-%20Pedo%20Mg. txt My other stories : HTML - http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=26255 text - /files/Authors/MeatBot/ Synopsis : In the late 70's, a young man meets a pre-teen hooker on the beach in Bali, Indonesia. Disclaimer : Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive, repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author. This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under 16 in real life. These are just words, people. Just words. If you have a problem with words see a competent shrink or an English teacher. This story takes place in the late 70's, before political correctness was invented. I know some people will take exception to the word "Brown" in "Little Brown Girl." I am sorry. That was the 70's. You just had to be there. I mean no disrespect to persons of color, or anyone, for that matter. Believe me, I love little brown girls more than anybody. --==+==- It was 1979. I had just stepped off a 747 into Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, in Jakarta, Indonesia. For a guy who'd barely been out of the country before it was a hell of an experience. It was hot, high 80's, and humid, 100 percent probably. Pure tropics. Java is about one degree off the equator, or it felt like it. We took a taxi through Jakarta, and the busy madness of the streets just seemed insane to me. Foot traffic, millions of bicycles, motorcycles, the occasional private car, and thousands of trucks, all driving where they wanted without much attention paid to traffic laws. On top of that, driving on the other side of the road. Crazy, it was crazy. My uncle worked for the UN, and he was stationed at an airport about 60 miles South of Jakarta. We spent about three weeks there, and then made an almost insane (for foreigners) dash completely across the mainland of Java, to the island of Bali. It was beautiful country, tropical, lush and green. Java is about the size and shape of California, laid on its side. It took us two whole days to drive it, and that trip is a whole story in itself. I was there with my cousin and aunt, who was of course married to my aforementioned uncle. My cousin was a very special friend of mine, and we'd kind of had a thing going for the last two years, ever since she started college. We didn't own each other, and we weren't even girlfriend and boyfriend, we just fucked occasionally. A lot, on this trip. The four nights we were alone in a hotel room coming and going to Indonesia still haunt my dreams, for sheer eroticism, and, once again, could be a story within a story. That's not what this story is about, though. Anyway, by the time we made it to Bali, I was a decadent world traveler. Not really, I was still a shy young tarheel, lost in a strange world. At the time we were there, the dollar was strong internationally. If you could pay in dollars, everything there was "One Amellican Dollah," because they couldn't make change. A bottle of coke. A disposable razor. A hotel room. A little brown girl on the beach, as I found out. Bali was totally different than Java, in many ways. The poverty and traffic madness was the same, but the whole mood of the countryside was different. Bali is Hindu, where mainland Java is almost completely Muslim. Surely you get the idea. Enough said. Nudity was no big deal in Bali. As soon as we took the ferry over, my eyes bugged out at the site of a half-dozen beautiful women, walking down the street topless. It was incredible, for a horny nineteen year old. I had a perpetual hard-on, most of the time I was there. And the women and girls were beyond beautiful, even the old ladies were statuesque (for Asians) and beautiful. My cousin punched my arm until it was sore, for my almost continual mumbled curse words under my breath, as I spotted the next nubile naked pair of brown female breasts. And those plump, dark nipples. Everywhere, jeezus, give a guy a break. The beach was also full of foxy Australian girls, who came across the straights for the topless beaches. That alone was worth the plane ticket. Australian girls are everything you'd not expect, given the redneck reputation of the country at large. They were beautiful, sweet and looked incredible just wearing bikini bottoms. My cousin wasn't interested in me, when we were with her parents, so after dark I spent a fair amount of time in the bathroom alone, cooling off. Possibly this is where I developed tennis elbow, I don't know. Anyway. We were right outside of Denpasar, the capitol of the island. We were in a brand-new hotel, on the beach, a series of little separated bungalows. That night, I left my cousin and her parents, and bravely walked along the beach by myself. Locals were everywhere, selling everything from fruit to soft drinks and cigarettes. Luckily, I had a pocket full of one amellican dollahs. Night fell, and I found myself a mile or two up the beach. There wasn't much to see, and it was so barren it would have been hard to lose my way. I turned back towards the hotel, and was almost there when I heard a small voice. "Mistah... you like nice Indonesian girl tonight?" I turned. A little girl stood beside the boardwalk, looking at me. I was stunned. I'd seen the big girls, right outside the hotel, selling themselves to the tourists. Some beautiful big girls. And, in truth, I'd thought seriously about it... just so I could say I did. And, in spite of the time with my cousin, I was perpetually horny. This girl, though... something about her touched me. I was sorry for her, sorry for her condition, that she had to sell her body like this. It made me sad, to see a kid who wasn't allowed to be a kid. I'm guessing she was maybe ten years old, if that. Small, maybe a bit over four feet. And beautiful, just simply beautiful. The thing that hurts the worst, after all these years, is that I never took a picture of her. These were the days before cell phones with cameras... these were the days before cell phones, in fact. Anyway, she was stunningly beautiful, for a child. She was possibly the most beautiful child I've ever seen, before, and since. I felt speechless, in the face of her beauty. I have no idea how much she'd done this before. I could have been her first, or hundredth. She came up on the boardwalk, and stood before me. I was, like I said, almost speechless. The whole experience seemed unreal, to me, like a dream. "I give you nice time tonight," she said, or something like that. I can't remember, after all these years. My mind was racing. I wanted something to happen, bad, just so I could spend a few moments in company of something so staggeringly beautiful. I wasn't mentally or emotionally prepared to have sex with a kid, this was long ago, and the things that have made me what I've become hadn't happened yet. Well, some of them had... and of course, this was one of them... anyway, I was different, back then. Younger, and straighter. I hadn't yet compromised my integrity, my morality, whatever... I still had all those things that us jaded old folks seem to lack. We slowly strolled along the boardwalk, and she chattered to me... I finally was able to talk to her like a normal human. She talked a funny mix of Indonesian, Balinese and English, and I hate to say it, but I never figured out for sure, during those four or five days that I saw her, what her name actually was. I think it was "Mischa" or "Misshy", I'm not a hundred percent sure. I call her Mischa, in my mind. We stopped in front of my hotel, and walked down to the water. I was afraid to be seen with her, I figured all the other tourists would know what she was there for. At this point, I gave her a half-dozen one dollar bills, just for her time. Just because I was happy to be with her. It was dark, out at the water's edge, I couldn't see her, but I knew she was still beautiful. She asked about America, and I answered her questions as best I could, as best I understood her. For some reason I was afraid to question her too closely about her situation, I didn't want to offend her. She seemed eager to talk, though. She lived with her grandmother, apparently it was just the two of them. She actually invited me to her home that first night, but I was too afraid to leave the beach and the safety of the tourist area. I think she still anticipated that I'd eventually want to have sex with her. And, damn, did I ever. I couldn't see actually fucking her, I couldn't see myself penetrating a child, but I wanted to hold her and touch her, and most of all taste her. She turned me on incredibly, that quickly, she was a angel, fallen to earth... she was something that I'd never even guessed existed in this world. I cannot describe it any better than that, I'm sorry. I was freakishly scared, at that age, of veneral disease and other scourges of the sexual world. She was so young and sweet and pure, though... I never worried about it with her. Nothing bad could come from something so sweet, I knew. When I looked at the big girls, I heard the line from that Cheap Trick song, "some Indonesian junk that's goin' 'round," but I was never afraid of her. And I got lucky, I guess. I probably gave her ten bucks, that first night. We finally sat, in two beach chairs, and I was content just to hold her little hand. She became restless, and I felt like I had to turn her loose, to my sorrow. She looked at me. "Tomorrow?" she said, and I said, yes, tomorrow. To see her again is all I desired, to spend another hour or two in her company. I wanted to see her again, bad. I left her, there on the beach, I went into the hotel as she walked back down the boardwalk. I had hugged her goodbye, and I kicked myself for not kissing her. I had an idea, though, for the next night, if she did show up. I had my North Carolina driver's license, and a pocket full of cash. We'd paid about twenty bucks for each of our huts, when we'd checked in. If I could rent a room... and have the nerve to walk her into it... I could spend an evening in private with her. I wasn't sure yet what I'd do with that privacy... but I hungered for it. The next day passed in a rush. I made the trip down to the beach a half dozen times, to see if I could spot her. At last, a few hours before sunset, I saw a little girl a few hundred feet down the boardwalk. She came to me, and hugged me just like we were old friends. I hope, looking back, that she saw me as more than just easy money. I'm not an idiot, but I hope that. I tried to explain my plan to her. She nodded, but then she nodded at everything I'd ever said. I finally left her, and went around to the office. I knew they hadn't seen me when we checked in, my uncle had done all that. I was even crafty enough to fetch my suitcase, so it looked like I'd just got off the boat. Some negotiations followed, and the room ended up costing me twenty five dollars, for reasons unknown. That was a lot, in 1979 dollars, but I'd brought a pretty big wad of cash with me, and I felt like this was a worthwhile investment. I got the key, and hurried out, hoping she was still waiting for me. She was. I explained my plan again, and she followed me. We went right to the bungalow, and I unlocked the door. We entered. Nobody even seemed to notice. Good. My heart was still pounding like a machine gun. I was getting away with something bigger that I'd ever even dreamed of attempting. We just sat, and talked. She gravitated closer and closer, and at last, with great satisfaction, she was seated on my lap. I was lost in her huge brown eyes. Her hair was black, long and silky. She had the most beautiful smoothest mocha-colored skin I'd ever seen. Her little body felt incredible, as I slowly dared to put my hands upon her. I said all this crap earlier about her being a kid, and what I thought I couldn't do... but by now she turned me more than anything in my life had. You could have smacked my cock with an iron bar. It was harder than iron. She was sexiness, personified. I have no idea why, I guess this was the start of the single biggest personality flaw of my life... my pedophiliac nature. I have no idea if this was just waiting inside of me, to be released... or if this is what started it all. I do not blame her for that, it is my flaw. I barely knew what a pedophile was, at the time of this story. I had never considered myself one, and didn't for many years afterwards. I'm still not sure... I'm certainly not a card carrying pedo... I don't hang around schoolyards, wearing a raincoat and handing out lollipops. I don't hide in women's bathrooms and jump out, scaring little girls. I've managed to keep almost all my fantasies in my head, all these years. This, the first time, is the most I've ever done, with an underaged child. I love children. I have sympathy with them, empathy... I want to let them stay children, as long as they can. What I tell next may not sound like that, sadly. This one, this one was special... this one offered herself to me... that does not make it right, I know... and I may pay, someday, for the things I did... I will not pay to man, too many years have gone by. All I can fear, at this point, is the god I no longer believe in... and he's got better things to do, I hope, than spank my cosmic booty for something I did thirty odd years ago. If he even exists. Okay, so I've tried to justify it. I was young, horny, consciences-less... I still had no desire to invade her small body with my aggressive, colonialistic penis... the poor child... in my mind, she's still a virgin, all these years later. I kissed her, at last. I remember the first kiss, it was short and sweet. I hadn't kissed that many girls, I was a slow starter. Chances are, she was more experienced than I was, even. But, she was sweet. About this time, everything stopped. She was no dummy. We negotiated, a process of her telling what and how much, and me saying yes, yes, impatiently. I'm lucky she didn't just say, "give me all your money," because I probably would have. She left the room that night with a twenty tucked into her panties, way more than any of the prices she quoted me. I hope she felt suitably compensated for a evening of an ugly American pawing her body. Paw her body I did. At last, she slid out of her little dress. Quickly, her panties followed. She stood before me, shyly smiling. She had an holy, perfect beauty that still shocks me, to this day. I hope she carried it into adulthood. All I could do is stare. Her chest was as flat as a board, of course. Two tiny perfect (and hard) nipples. And nice plump little hairless mons. Her ass was out of this world. I didn't see it until a few minutes later, but it took my breath away, when I did. I've always been an ass man, and this one was beyond my ability to accurately describe. Just incredible. I didn't have a whole lot to compare her too, but she was miles ahead of anything I'd ever seen. She sat on the bed, and I kneeled before her. I was not, at this age, the most sexually experienced person in the world. The things I'd done with my sister and cousin were the high point of my sexual career, so far. One thing I loved, probably thanks to my older sister (another story, sorry) was eating pussy. More accurately, licking pussy. That was something I could do for hours. I lay her down, and spread her legs with my trembling hands. In retrospect, she seems to have been prepared for this stage. She accepted it, completely. She lay back, and I bent my head to her sweet crotch. There follows the most enjoyable experience of all my fifty-five years. I will not try to describe it, I'm not sure I could if I tried. It was out of this world. And her... asshole... I'm a dyed-in-the-wool asshole freak. Her little puckered sweetness was everything I'd dreamed of someday finding... my tongue found something that it never wanted to give up. I'll remember her beautiful asshole until the day I die. Sweet and tart, sweaty and slightly poopy... I still have dreams about it. The taste of her pussy, elusive after all these years, was unlike my cousin. Where my cousin was heavy, she was light. My cousin was in-your-face, she was subtle. Once again, words fail. I put my face down to her sweet pussy, and licked. I licked heaven. I cannot describe the next hour. My twenty-five dollars for the room was well spent. A hunger was ignited within me that has lasted the rest of my life. A primal urge that I never knew I had was satisfied, for just a moment. It was incredible. We just lay there, afterwards, and I held her. I think she came, as I slobbered on her, I'm not sure... I know she was able too, she did later... but I'd like to think I gave her something, at least, other than a handful of cash. I held her. Those are the best memories I took from this, as incredible as licking her was, and even later when I got to cum. I loved just laying there and holding her. If I could relive any moments of my life, after all these years, that moment would be it. I finally ordered room service, a really bad pizza almost as expensive as the room (the hotel did not practice the one dollah method). We ate, and an hour later I was bowing before her, worshiping her again with my tongue. With some reservations I got my cock out, in spite of her giggles, I hoped she was not laughing at the size of my average Caucasian cock. She played with it a bit, and finally crouched at the foot of the bed and took it in her mouth. The only blow jobs I'd ever had were from my sister and cousin, and this one was different, much lighter, but infinitely superior, probably just because of the source. I could not imagine cumming in her little mouth, but as it went longer and longer I realized she was waiting for me to. I finally spoke to her, and tried to make her realize what was going to happen. She knew. My innocent little angel wasn't that innocent. I came, incredibly, and it just blew the bottom out of my balls. I came so hard it hurt. She giggled and drooled semen on me, she couldn't keep it in. I think she thought that was part of the game, she did that every time. I panted for breath, feeling cramps in muscles I didn't know I had, and just lay there, and held her again. For my life so far, the taste of sperm had disgusted me, but I kissed her, tasting myself in her mouth, and it didn't bother me then. I loved that it was her. I loved her by then, of course, so deeply that I have never escaped. All I have now is a memory to love, and it's not nearly enough, but that's the way it is. I know I love an idealized version of her, a sweet little angel... I hate to think what she might have become, over the years. The sex industry was a big deal on Bali, and as I understand it still goes on, to a degree. I hope she got out, though chances are slim. I hope she wasn't ground into a piece of meat. She was just a child. Tears still come in my eyes when I think of her condition, in spite of me, as well as others, taking advantage of her, tasting, taking away from her sweetness. What a heartless, savage world we live in. I finally turned her loose. I had found out we'd spend the rest of our time in Indonesia here, and I made an appointment to see her the next day, to my intense pleasure. I took the room for another night, and joined back up with my aunt, uncle and cousin. They were not idiots. They knew I'd been up to something because I'd been gone all evening so I spun a tale about meeting some Australian guys and hanging out in the bar and some other shit, I can't remember. My cousin gave me "the look", she was way craftier than I ever dreamed of being, and she knew I was feeding them shit. But, she minded her business, she was probably glad somebody else was feeding my carnal desires, since she wasn't going to touch me with her parents in the next room. The next evening was more of the same. One of my fondest memories of this time was her sitting in my lap, as I ran my hard cock up and down the front her little cunt, I looked down and could see it pushing up through her little pussy lips, rubbing her clit. It was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever done in my life. If you've read this far, and are disgusted by that sentence, sorry. There was more, even. Go read something else if you don't like it. I never fucked her. I'm not sure if she could have, she was so tiny, but I also know what she was there on the beach for... probably she could have, probably she did have, before... I know that not everyone is as considerate a pedo perv as I am... I'm sure that more than a few imperialist aggressor penises had plumbed her depths by then... but mine did not. I am both proud of and regret that. Her little pussy felt tight on my tongue, and fingers, what little I probed her. She had the sweetest little pussy I've ever seen, before or since. We did this four times, total... maybe ten or twelve glorious hours, with her all to myself. I paid her well, way over what I'm sure she would have asked, or probably gotten with anyone else. I'm not saying that like I'm proud of it, I'm just telling the truth. Yeah, I paid a little girl to let me molest her. I'm sorry, but that's the way it happened. I was horny, and she had to make a living. I'm still sorry for her situation, after all these years, though I drank deeply from her sweetness. I still wonder, after all these years, on an almost daily basis, whatever happened to her. What she became, what it did to her, to whore herself out at such a tender age. Whatever her fate is, I was partly responsible, and I accept that. If I have to pay, in some cheesy hellish afterlife, I will. What I took from her was worth almost any price, maybe even an eternity of having my ass poked by devils with pitchforks. I loved her with a purity and passion I have never achieved again, sadly. I think of her, every day. I think of her as sweet and innocent and pure, not some kid hooker. Funny how the mind works. I wish I could have met her now, as I am now, although I'm not sure I would have had the nerve to do anything... but now I have the resources to possibly do something for her... maybe just to stay in touch, if nothing else. Things were different way back then, and I was different. When she walked away, it was for forever. That's it, that's my sad story. This was a hard story to write, and once again, forced me to confront things about myself that I usually just let lie. You don't know me, but maybe you understand me a little better, like me or not. I hugged and held her that last night, I knew we'd be leaving in the morning. I wanted to hold her forever. I would cry, now, but I didn't then. She didn't seem to care or understand, maybe I was just another john to her. I hope she felt a little bit how much I loved her. No idea. She walked out of the room, and out of my life, and three days later I was ten thousand miles away, back in the states. Wherever, whatever you are, today, Mischa, I love you. --==+==- IF YOU LIKED THIS STORY, LEAVE ME A COMMENT. HELL, LEAVE ME A COMMENT EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T LIKE IT. THANKS FOR READING. http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=26255