Eleven Going On Twenty-one.
By Des Rathgit (M/g/g, pedo)
Dramatis personae:
Michael Boxall (me)
Sarah Walkinshaw, aged eleven going on twenty-one
Valerie Walkinshaw, Sarah's mother
Jack Lomax, Valerie's boyfriend (mentioned only)
Police Constable  Sarah Baxendale (PC Sarah)
Julie Southern, also aged eleven
David and Helen Southern, Julie's parents
Paul, a little boy playing on the swings

    * * * * * * * *
I was sitting in my car watching the rain bucketing down; it reminded me of
the monsoons I had seen when in the tropics, except that this was the middle
of winter and very cold. I had been buying some essential items for my new
home, and had just managed to reach the car before the heavy rain started.
One of the items I had bought was a set of towels, which I thought was an
excellent example of serendipity should I need to be anywhere outside the
car in this weather.
I was just about to quit my parking space when I noticed a young girl who
had been walking up and down this particular stretch of road, looking lost
and drenched. I could see her looking at me each time she passed, so I
decided to offer her some comfort. Although most youngsters are told
repeatedly not to get into a car with a stranger, I realised that this girl
was likely to be extremely uncomfortable and probably shivering, so I opened
the window and called to her.
"Would you like to sit in my car and warm up?"
She was obviously reticent, so I suggested that she could sit in the back of
the car, and she could dry off using the towels I had just bought. That
swung the argument, and she opened the back door and got in. She was
shivering so much that her teeth were chattering; I felt very sorry for her
and told her to open the pack of towels.
"Use one of the smaller towels on your hair," I told her. "Then wipe your
face and you'll feel a bit better."
While she was drying her hair and face, I introduced myself, Michael Boxall,
she replied that her name was Sarah Walkinshaw, she was eleven years old and
she had come into town on the bus with her mother to do some shopping. They
had just moved from London because her parents had recently divorced; they
weren't very well-off, so her mother had bought a small terraced house which
was less than half a mile from my home.
She didn't know where her mother was; they had managed to become separated
in a large supermarket and so she had decided to try to find her way home.
Then the rain started, leaving her wet, cold and distressed. As her clothes
were still soaking, I suggested that she could take off her dress and wrap
one of the large bath-towels around her. "I shan't watch you undressing," I
said, "I can't see below your face anyway as you're in the back seat."
She smiled and agreed that a dry towel would be much more comfortable than a
wet dress. She removed the dress and wrapped the towel around her, then sat
back in the seat, still shivering. I decided to start the engine and run the
heater to warm her up a bit, and was rewarded with "Oh, thank you."
I knew that her mother would be worrying about her, so I asked Sarah if her
Mum had a mobile phone. Sarah even knew the number, so I called it, but
received no answer. Realising that some sort of communication was essential,
I called again and left a message stating what had happened. I gave my name
and mobile number and assured her that Sarah was in no danger, then passed
the phone to Sarah so that she could reinforce the safety message.
Sarah was still shivering; the car's heater wasn't terribly efficient until
the engine was very warm. I said that I could cuddle her in my anorak to
make her a bit warmer, and she accepted the idea. I sat in the passenger
seat and she climbed over the gear-lever and on to my lap. I unzipped my
voluminous anorak, closed it around both of us, and zipped it up again.
Almost immediately, Sarah stopped shivering and told me that she felt much
better.
We sat there for over half an hour, waiting for Sarah's mother to call but
she didn't. I was starting to be concerned that I might be accused of
abducting Sarah, so I decided to phone the police and explain the situation.
When I got through to the local station, I explained the series of events
and was surprised to discover that Sarah's mother was there, making a report
about her missing daughter. She admitted that she had let the battery in her
phone go flat, which explained why I couldn't contact her. I passed the
phone to Sarah, and she told her mother everything that had happened. Sarah
gave the phone back to me and I spoke to the police officer, PC Sarah
Baxendale, who was dealing with the case.
PC Baxendale tried to describe the way to the police station, but I was new
to the area myself and was completely unable to follow her instructions. She
asked me where I was parked, and I described my location with the aid of
shops that I could see. She was able to work out where I was and I gave her
the registration number of my car. I soon saw a police car approaching; I
flashed my headlights to identify my position. When PC Baxendale appeared at
the window I opened it and she said, "Hallo Sarah, that's my name as well."
I suggested that she and Mrs Walkinshaw should sit in the back of the car
and we would complete the required information transfer.
PC Baxendale already knew my home address from the registration number of my
car, and Mrs. Walkinshaw was surprised to discover that we lived quite close
to each other. I made the obvious suggestion that I should drive them both
home; the police officer accepted that idea and left. I moved to the driving
seat, Sarah climbed back on to the rear seat and Mrs. Walkinshaw sat next to
me in the front passenger seat.
On the way home, Mrs. Walkinshaw introduced herself and asked that I address
her as Valerie; I responded in like manner. When we reached her home, she
insisted that I should join them for an evening meal, since I had been so
kind to Sarah. I carried Sarah into the house, up the stairs and dumped her
on her bed to a chorus of giggling from both females. Valerie offered to
launder the towels that Sarah had used, and I remarked that Sarah was still
wearing one of them.
"Take it off, Sarah," said Valerie.
"I haven't got anything on underneath," replied Sarah in alarm. I took this
as my cue to make a hasty exit from the room.
Then I remembered that I had left a stew cooking in the slow cooker at home,
so I reluctantly declined Valerie's offer of a free dinner, but said I would
take a rain-check if that were possible. Sarah, I could tell, was unhappy
about that. I suggested that we could all go for a walk the following
weekend, but Valerie said that she had just started a new job and she had to
work on Saturdays. However, she was quite happy for me to take Sarah out for
the day. When Sarah was dressed she hugged and kissed me goodbye and left me
feeling that I was at least ten feet tall.
      *
The weekend finally arrived, and I presented myself at the Walkinshaw house.
Valerie had already left for work, so I collected Sarah to go for our
promised walk. Sarah, however, was feeling less than 100% fit, probably due
to her soaking a few days earlier. She asked if she could come to my house
to spend the day, and I was very happy to agree. I made us both a drink,
then we sat in the lounge and watched TV for a while. Sarah insisted on
sitting on my lap, just as she had when she was in the car. She wanted me to
cuddle her, and said that apart from the short while in the car, she hadn't
had any such cuddles since her father started an affair with his mistress,
leading to the divorce. My heart went out to her - she was obviously a
'touchy-feely' type of personality, and needed to be cuddled, caressed and
probably other things as well. I noticed that she didn't seem to be paying
much attention to the TV; she just rested her head against my chest and
stroked my hand. I responded by stroking the nape of her neck, and I thought
that if she had been a cat she would probably have been purring.
After a while she wanted to go to the toilet, so I showed her where it was,
and turned to go. "Please come in with me," she said plaintively.
"Do you really want me to watch you weeing?" I asked with a smile.
"Yes," she said. "I'd like you to do what my Daddy used to do. He would wipe
me after I had finished, then he used his finger to check that I was dry."
The dirty old pervert, I thought, but looking at Sarah I could understand
why. Who in his right mind could resist such an invitation?
We went into the toilet, she removed her knickers completely and pulled her
skirt up, revealing such a beautiful little bald pussy that I was sorely
tempted to kneel and lick it. But I didn't, and she sat on the seat and did
the necessary. I tore a piece of paper off the roll and wiped her little
snatch, then started to lift her off the seat.
"You haven't checked that I'm dry," she wailed, so I spread her legs wide
and gently stroked her vaginal opening. At that, she sighed and murmured a
little, telling me that I was right on target. She didn't want me to stop,
but I told her that we would both be more comfortable in the lounge.
"Will you keep stroking my willy?" she asked.
"Sure, if you want me to." Visions of prison cells invaded my mind, but I
dismissed them from my thoughts.
She quickly jumped off the seat, took my hand and almost dragged me into the
lounge, sat me in an easy chair and plonked herself down on my lap again.
She lifted her skirt, moved my hand to her groin area, spread her legs and
then lay back on my chest. I again stroked the entrance to her vagina which
was starting to become damp and slippery. The expression on her face was one
of unbridled bliss, to the extent that I thought she was falling asleep. I
moved my now-slippery finger upwards to her clitoris and stroked it. That
made her wake up with a little squeal.
"Oh, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed. "I've never felt as good as that
before."
I thought that maybe her father wasn't such a dirty old pervert after all,
and that maybe I was. But Sarah's pleasure was my goal, and I wouldn't have
exchanged her delighted sighs for all the tea in China. When I inserted my
pinkie finger into her vagina, I thought she was going to scream with
delight. She wriggled and bucked to the extent that my finger almost came
out of that delicious tunnel, so that I had to work quite hard to keep it
there. Then I gradually reduced the level of stimulation on her clitoris,
and she settled dreamily down on my lap like an inert sack of potatoes.
After she was rested, she decided that she wanted the toilet again - the
constant stimulation must have seriously affected her waterworks. Naturally,
I was elected to perform the duty of chief willy-wiper, as she put it. This
time, however, I turned her round to face the toilet, bent her over and
wiped her from behind, at the same time gently stroking her little brown
anus, which made her jump. I couldn't resist the chance to sample the taste
of her nether regions, and licked first her clitoris, then progressed all
the way upwards to her anus. Another little squeal told me that I was right
on the target of her sensitivities. "Oh Michael," she gasped, "I didn't know
anything could feel as wonderful as that."
I decided to avoid the corny old cliché - 'you ain't seen nothing yet', and
I gently lowered her skirt, deciding that we had had enough sexual play for
the moment. She was rather disappointed, but I told her that any further
action was worth waiting for, and it was time we had something to eat. We
repaired to the kitchen, sat at the breakfast bar and had our elevenses. By
this time she had perked up physically, so I suggested that she replace her
knickers and we could go for the walk that I had originally planned.
While we were out walking, she held my hand and I asked her about her
school. I was surprised to discover that she hadn't started school yet - it
was nearly Christmas, and she would be going to the nearby senior school in
the New Year. She had tearfully left her previous school and a large number
of friends two weeks ago when she and Valerie moved to their new address. I
told her that I had only moved to the area a month ago, so we were all
effectively strangers in a strange town. I had not been married, but had
been living with a girlfriend for the past six years until she decided that
her new boss was a better proposition for her future than I was. As far as I
knew, they were now living together. I had picked myself up off the floor
and decided to make a go of life in a place far from my old home, so here I
was, and I thought that fate couldn't have dealt me a better hand.
Sarah was clearly an empath of some sort, because she instinctively knew and
felt the pain I had endured. She held my hand more tightly and told me that
I had found my new love in life if I could accept her. When I pointed out
the considerable difference in our ages (14 years) she said that her Dad had
been 16 years older than her Mum, and Valerie was only 15 years older than
her daughter. I realised that her father had impregnated her mother at the
age of 14, and reflected that at least Valerie had been more or less
physically mature, whereas Sarah wasn't. A completely bald and soft little
snatch told me that, as did the total lack of swellings under her nipples.
It seemed to me that in Sarah, Mother Nature had managed to get everything
back to front. Usually, young girls seem to mature physically before any
mental maturity sets in, but Sarah was the complete opposite. Her
common-sense approach to life told me that her mind was aged eleven, going
on twenty-one, despite the fact that her beautiful little body was more like
a nine-year-old's. She knew it, of course, and accepted it philosophically.
Her attitude towards other children was the reason that she had so many
friends, but her attitude towards me seemed to be that of a sex-starved
nymphomaniac, and I wasn't about to reject her on that score.
When we returned, we sat in the lounge and she immediately plonked herself
on my lap, facing towards me and kneeling with her legs either side of mine.
She clung to me and kissed me as though we were long-separated lovers, then
she started to rub her little mount of Venus on the lump which rose in the
front of my crotch. I couldn't believe how forward this little girl was, and
told her so.
"Do you think I'm nasty?" she asked.
"You could never be nasty," I contradicted her, "but you are giving me huge
excitement."
"I was hoping you would say something like that," she replied with a naughty
little smile, "and 'huge' is the right word from what I can feel."
With that, her fingers travelled down to my crotch and squeezed the hardness
she found there. The feeling almost made me ejaculate there and then, but I
managed to control it.
"You're a very bad girl," I said, "and bad girls have to have their botties
smacked."
"Oh yes, I am."
She immediately lifted her skirt, removed her knickers and draped herself
over my lap, with her little bare bum looking upwards towards me. I slapped
each cheek lightly, then worked my hands down her legs towards her knees,
stroking gently all the way. When I reached the backs of her knees I moved
to the inside of her thighs and gradually worked my way back towards her
bottom. She was obviously anticipating some more excitement, because she
spread her legs, revealing her vagina and her little brown anus. When my
hands were nearly at the target, she sighed loudly, reached behind her and
parted her bum-cheeks, leaving me in very little doubt as to her desires.
I decided to tease her a little. I continued stroking the insides of her
thighs, just reaching the outer lips of her pussy, passing over them,
drawing circles around her anus and then retreating. She started squealing
again, so I repeated the action, and she told me that I was being mean. My
hands went upwards a third time, and this time brushed against her perineum,
halfway between vagina and anus. She went wild, bucking up and down and
trying to get me to touch one hole or the other. Finally I relented, licked
two fingers on my right hand and placed them at the entrance to each hole.
Her vaginal entrance was slippery with her juices, so I slid a finger in,
causing another little squeal. Realising that her own lubrication was far
better than my saliva, I removed the finger from her vagina and inserted my
index finger, making it very wet and slippery. Then I re-inserted both
fingers, one in her vagina and the other in her anus. When I pumped them in
and out, she was almost crying with excitement.
"Oh Michael," she cried, "you're doing wonderful things to me. I feel as
though I'm in heaven right now."
I removed my fingers from her, lifted her off my lap and carried her
upstairs to my bedroom. She lay there on the bed, looking at me as I slowly
undressed. Before I could lie down beside her, she grasped my penis and drew
it towards her mouth. Her little pink tongue played over the end with my
foreskin tightly covering the glans, then she closed her lips over it. While
part of my cock was in her mouth, she played her tongue on the end of the
foreskin, then retracted it from the glans and repeated the operation on my
leaking helmet. She started sucking hungrily, and the feeling was out of
this world. I had to stop her twice because I didn't want to ejaculate too
soon. Soon, though, the feeling overcame me and I felt that familiar feeling
boiling up in my groin. I started squirting my semen into her mouth, and I
could see her throat muscles working as she swallowed it. After the squirts
had subsided she removed my penis from her mouth and inspected the end where
there was still a drop of semen making its way to the wide world. She put
out her little tongue and licked off the drop of semen, then she squeezed my
penis carefully to try to extract more, licking the end when it appeared.
She repeated the squeeze-and-lick operation until there was no more to be
had. This sent me further into the stratosphere, and I almost came again.
This little girl had given me the most wonderful blow-job ever.
"How on earth did you learn to do that?" I asked her.
I should have known what the reply would be. "Daddy taught me."
The dirty old sod, I thought, then I realised that the description fitted me
exactly.
"What else did you do with him?" I asked her.
"Nothing else. He couldn't put his willy into me, it was too big. It was
about the same length as yours but much thicker, and I could only just get
it into my mouth. He had to be content with rubbing it up and down on my
willy. But I'm glad yours is smaller. I should be able to get it into my
vagina, if you want to put it in."
If I wanted to put it in!!!!
At that particular moment, I had no semen left, despite her secondary
stimulation. I lay on the bed with her and cuddled her, kissing her all
over. I realised that I was falling in love with this little girl, eleven
going on twenty-one. I pressed her little body tightly to mine, and my penis
started to erect again. I put it in between her legs, though not into her
vagina. She squeezed it with her thigh muscles and started kissing me
passionately. I reached behind her and stroked her anus, which resulted in a
contented sigh.
We lay like that for a few minutes, until I realised that we were feeling
cold. We crawled under the bedclothes, resumed our previous position and
fell asleep.
We were woken by the phone ringing. Valerie had returned home after a
shortened day at work, and she suggested that I might like to collect on the
dinner offer she had made me the last time we spoke. I gladly accepted and
told her that Sarah hadn't been feeling fully fit, so that our walk had been
curtailed to suit her. I would put her in the car and drive the short
distance.
Sarah dressed and rinsed her mouth out, just to ensure that there was no
trace of semen. Then we drove to her house, where Valerie was waiting to
greet us. She noticed that Sarah was looking somewhat listless and said,
"It's an early bath and bed for you, Miss. You don't look very well." Sarah
didn't argue, and I reflected on our torrid afternoon, which must have
drained her reserves of energy.
Valerie cooked an early dinner, after which she told Sarah to go and bath.
The look that Sarah gave me told me that she wanted me to go with her, but
she had her head screwed on properly and she said nothing. After Sarah had
bathed she came downstairs, kissed us both goodnight and went to bed,
looking completely washed out.
What I didn't know was that Valerie had noticed the unspoken exchange
between Sarah and me before her bath, and that she had seen it before with
her husband. Valerie and I started chatting about the day's events, and then
she broached a subject which caused a feeling like an ice-hold hand gripping
me. She didn't actually suggest that I had been doing intimate things with
Sarah, but the way she described her feelings left me in no doubt as to her
allusions. She said that Sarah had been quiet and reserved, almost morose,
up to the age of eight, but then she had unaccountably started to become
more animated and alive.
The change, Valerie said, was startling; it was as though Sarah had stepped
into a new and brighter world. She talked it over with her husband, and
although he didn't admit anything, she knew instinctively that he and Sarah
had been playing sexual games. She had considered reporting the matter to
the child-care authorities, but then she realised that the only change in
Sarah had been vastly for the better, and that if those activities were
stopped Sarah would probably revert to her previous morose state. So she
decided to let sleeping dogs lie, and told her husband that so long as he
didn't hurt Sarah she would keep quiet. This activity continued right up to
the time when her husband had been caught with his hand in a cookie-jar in
the shape of a pair of ladies' knickers. He admitted that he wanted to live
with the owner of the knickers, and divorce proceedings ensued. She had
heard that the lady was a New Zealander, and that they had decided to go and
live there. Valerie didn't have any relatives; her parents were dead, as
were her ex-husband's, so she couldn't go to anyone else for help. She and
Sarah were the only two members of that family left in the country,
effectively in the world, and she had to make the best of it.
Sarah was devastated at the loss of her father, and she almost immediately
returned to her previous morose state. She perked up slightly after the
episode in my car and became more animated as the weekend approached, but
then she slipped back as the current illness set in. But Valerie noticed a
subtle change in her attitude, and that, combined with the look that Sarah
gave me before her bath, told her that I was probably playing with Sarah.
Although I hadn't touched her in the car, I knew that there was no point in
my denying anything that had happened at my house, but Valerie reassured me
that what I was doing could only be good for Sarah. The visions of prison
cells promptly vanished. Valerie said that it was difficult for her to
approve of our relationship completely, but as long as I didn't hurt Sarah
she would accept it. Then I admitted that I had been totally captivated by
Sarah; I just couldn't describe the feelings I had for this eleven-year-old
girl other than by saying I was in love with her, in the same way that I had
been in love with my girlfriend when we started living together. It would be
impossible for me to hurt Sarah in any way, and that statement warmed
Valerie to me considerably.
She asked if Sarah was still a virgin, and I confirmed that she was. She
said that her husband had wanted to take Sarah's virginity as he had taken
hers, but that his penis was much too big for a small eleven-year-old girl
to accept. I replied that mine wasn't, and that Sarah thought that she could
take it without too much trouble. Then I realised that I had admitted to a
serious breach of the law, and that I was now completely at Valerie's mercy.
Valerie realised it also, and smiled. She let me out of my concern by saying
that, assuming that Sarah had recovered from her infection, she could spend
the following weekend with me. That would enable Valerie to make progress
with a prospective boyfriend, Jack Lomax by name, at the office. She did
admit, however, that she was delighted with the relationship between Sarah
and me, and she knew that it was the best thing to happen to Sarah since her
father left home.
After this conversation we both went upstairs to see if Sarah was asleep,
and were surprised to find that she was awake and reading. Valerie told her
that she had a date with me for the following weekend, at which Sarah was
excited and threw her arms around my neck, kissing me passionately as though
we were alone. I noticed Valerie's expression, which indicated that she was
very happy with the result of her decision. Then Sarah's excitement subsided
and she collapsed back into bed. Valerie kissed her goodnight and we both
left her alone.
We returned downstairs, and I decided that the evening was over. As I left,
Valerie kissed me on the cheek and thanked me for 'making Sarah's life
wonderful again', as she put it.
      *
I was jittery all the following week at work. My colleagues must have
thought I was sweating on a winning lottery ticket or some similar event,
but I kept my own counsel, knowing that nobody would have believed me even
if I had told the exact truth. The days dragged past, and my boss asked me
to consider taking a short holiday to sort myself out, pointing out that it
was near Christmas anyway. But I apologised to her and refused the offer,
deciding instead to 'sort myself out' by working properly, in the way I was
used to. One thing that I remembered to do was to buy two tubes of KY jelly
for the forthcoming activities, one to keep in the bedroom and the other in
the bathroom cabinet.
Friday evening finally arrived and Valerie phoned me to say that she and
Jack had booked a room for the weekend at a motel in Bristol, which was
nearly 200 miles away. I told her that I would be there directly to collect
Sarah, and almost broke the speed limit in my haste. Then I calmed down,
realising that I was acting like a spotty teenager. When I arrived at the
Walkinshaw house I was all business, all adult, and ready to collect Sarah.
When Sarah saw me, she threw her arms around me in her usual exuberant
manner, and I knew that this was going to be the best weekend of our lives
for both of us. Sarah collected her suitcase containing changes of clothes,
her toothbrush and her favourite teddy-bear, kissed her mother goodbye and
we drove the final half-mile to my house.
As soon as we were both through the front door, Sarah cuddled me again and
then proceeded to undo the zipper in my trousers. "Oh, I've missed you so
much," she said as she grasped my penis none too gently. I laughed and told
her that there would be plenty of time for that in the next couple of days,
but at that immediate moment I needed to have a pee and a wash before taking
her out to a restaurant. That got her immediate attention, and I told her
that as my girlfriend she was entitled to be treated as an adult and that
was my intention; her tinkling laughter just made my day. Then she betrayed
her immaturity by announcing that she wanted to go to McDonalds; I didn't
comment, but accepted that although very precocious, she was a child after
all.
I had to find a McDonalds, and after looking in Yellow Pages I discovered
that there was one only a few yards from the place where I had first met
Sarah. That was the obvious choice, and when we arrived there I parked in
exactly the same spot. Sarah noticed and told me that when we were married,
she would ask the wedding limousine to park in that exact place. I didn't
comment, but smiled at her. Many waters would have to flow under the bridge
before that event could occur.
We enjoyed a cheap meal at McDonalds, and then returned home. By this time
it was early evening, so we sat and watched TV for a while, Sarah naturally
appropriating her place on my lap. She soon tired of watching the news, and
she wanted to 'go upstairs'. We went to my bedroom and undressed, I laid her
down on the bed, then lay down beside her. We cuddled for an indeterminate
length of time as my erection began to make its presence known. As before, I
put it in between her legs and she squeezed it with her thighs. Then she
moved one hand to my crotch area and stroked my pubic hair for a while
before moving further down to my scrotum. Meanwhile, I was gently squeezing
and stroking one of her buttocks, one finger gradually making its way to the
area of her anus. When I reached it, I stroked it gently without penetrating
- that would come later. The feeling in her anus made her sigh with
pleasure, and she turned on to her back, holding my hand and moving it to
her waiting vulva. As I stroked the outer lips, her legs slowly parted,
giving me access to the inner loveliness that lay between those lips. While
I was stroking between her legs, my tongue had migrated to her nipples
which, though completely undeveloped, were not insensitive. As I licked and
sucked she became more and more excited, her hand continually gripping and
releasing the shaft of my cock. She retracted the foreskin and ran her
fingers over the glans, using the pre-cum as lubricant. This was so
pleasurable to me that I had to stop her in case I ejaculated prematurely.
We rested for a short while after that, the only activity being my hand
continually stroking the outer lips of her vulva. She tried to access my
penis but I gently pushed her hand away, telling her that I wanted to make
sure that my next ejaculation would be inside her vagina. This was obviously
not part of her intentions, and she immediately went down on me and started
sucking my penis. Her tongue played over the surface of the helmet, as she
had done previously, and her lips closed around the rim. This almost
indescribable pleasure took me over the edge, and I ejaculated into her
waiting mouth. She continued sucking after I had finished, to the point
where it became uncomfortable and I told her so. She withdrew her lips from
my softening weapon and started kissing my stomach, gradually working her
way upwards until I could smell my semen on her breath. I took over and
kissed her forehead, gradually working my own way downwards to her lips,
where I inserted my tongue and tasted my own semen for the first time. I
recalled that the girlfriend with whom I had lived for six years had never
sucked me off, and indeed it had been very difficult to persuade her into
any oral-genital contact at all.
All this time my finger had still been stroking Sarah's vulva, and I decided
to progress further into the inner reaches of her sex. I found that her
vaginal opening was already well lubricated with her natural juices, and
slowly inserted my finger. Her response was to spread her legs even wider,
her hand went down to my invading finger and tried to pull it in further,
leaving me in no doubt as to her feelings at the time. When I moved another
finger towards her anus, her back arched so as to assist its entrance; I
lost no time in making the double insertion, which resulted in a gurgle of
pleasure from her throat as I worked my fingers in and out. As I did this,
with my other hand I started stroking her clitoris which had erected from
its hiding place. She manifested her pleasure with a huge gasp and a mewing
sound that suggested feline ancestry. She appeared to be having an orgasm,
which I was very happy to see.
I gradually allowed her to come down from her peak of excitement, and she
lay back exhausted. This was the first time I had ever touched a pre-teen
girl in this way, and it excited me as much as her.
"You still haven't made me a woman," she said with a smile. "You're not
going to leave me a frustrated old spinster, are you?"
"I think that because you've been a bad girl using such expressions, I'll
have to keep you frustrated for a while - at least an hour until I recover
my sexual capability. Let's go and have a drink, it's been thirsty work."
We went downstairs, she in her knickers and blouse, and I in my slacks only.
Sitting on stools in the kitchen and drinking coffee, I couldn't help
wondering how such a physically undeveloped little girl could act in such an
adult manner. Almost all her thoughts suggested her mental age to be well
into adulthood, and I made a mental note to recognise that I wasn't dealing
with a normal child. We chatted about her school work before she left her
old school, and I was very pleased to note that her favourite subjects had
been maths, science and English, which were also mine, and which are the
subjects most prized by education authorities. I told her that when she
started at her new school I would be able to help her with her homework,
which I hoped would eventually result in a good degree from a top
university.
By now it was getting late; I didn't want to risk over-tiring her. Although
she was still very alert, I was aware that at her age tiredness could
overcome her very quickly. We returned upstairs and decided that it was
bath-time. Needless to say, she expected that we would bath together, and I
didn't disappoint her. We washed each other, concentrating particularly on
the area between the legs. I made sure of thoroughly cleaning her anal area,
having designs on it in the very near future. I thought that this 'mutual
washing' activity could be the human equivalent of simians' mutual grooming,
and suggested to her that we could display ourselves in monkey-cages. After
our chuckles subsided, we got out of the bath and dried each other, cleaned
our teeth and did the usual things in preparation for bed. She wanted me to
apply the usual treatment after she had urinated, which reminded me of the
way we first started our sexual antics. Then it was time for bed and all the
delights that it entailed.
Sarah wanted to "consummate our relationship," as she put it. I assumed that
she had read it somewhere and asked her what she thought it meant. By way of
answer, she spread her legs, took hold of my penis and placed the head at
her vaginal entrance.
"That's what I mean," she said, "as if you didn't know. It's time for you to
penetrate my maidenhead, take my virginity, and perhaps even fuck me."
That put me in my place, and not for the first time I reflected on her
precocious nature. I withdrew my penis from her grasp, turned and started to
lick her vulva. I started at the clitoris and sucked the little
pseudo-penis, which made her gasp. I transferred my tongue to her vaginal
entrance and used my finger to continue the assault on her clitoris. Having
entered my tongue into her vagina, I licked around the entrance and then
moved further down to her anus. When I licked it, she gasped again and
wriggled her bottom in excitement. I inserted my tongue gently into her
rectum, just the tip at first, then pressing further in. By this time her
mewing had started, her vagina was dripping with her juices, and she sounded
as though she was in ecstasy. She had been stroking my hair when I started
tongue-fucking her rectum, then she gripped it tightly as her excitement
grew.
I continued the intrusion into the end of her alimentary canal for a few
more minutes, gradually reducing the sensations to give her a 'soft landing'
from her earlier high, and her hand on my hair went back to its stroking
motion. I returned to kiss her face, then put my arms round her and turned
us both over so that I was now on my back and she was lying on my chest.
"Kneel astride me, Sweetie," I told her. "It's time for your introduction to
womanhood. This will take your breath away."
I moved her downwards until my erection was resting on her vaginal entrance,
then I reached down and placed the glans at the entrance. I told her to push
gently so that she could control the rate of entry. As she did so, she was
obviously in some discomfort, but she was also determined to complete the
operation. I thought that, despite her natural lubrication, she might be a
little too dry for comfort, so I removed my helmet from her vulva, reached
into the drawer of the bedside table and extracted a tube of KY with which I
anointed the head of my penis and also squirted some on her vaginal
entrance. Then I replaced my penis and she re-applied her downward pressure.
This time the glans slid in without difficulty, giving me a wonderful
sensation as though she were sucking it. But as my penis slid slowly further
into her vagina, the sensation increased and I could see on her face that
her discomfort was easing. Finally, her outer lips were resting on my pubic
hair and I was fully inserted. She leaned forward until her chest was
resting on mine, and we stayed in that position until her vaginal muscles
had fully relaxed. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity first to stroke her
anus and then to insert a finger. I could feel her sphincter repeatedly
clutching and releasing on my finger and I knew that she was interested in
anal sex as well as vaginal.
I started moving my shaft in and out of her love-tunnel, slowly at first,
and with very short strokes. But as she became more used to the feeling, she
sat up and started to move her bottom forward and back, tickling her
clitoris with my pubic hair. I could feel my glans massaging her cervix as
she moved, which obviously increased her pleasure. Very soon, I could feel
the sap rising and I tried to stop her moving, but at that moment she was in
a different world, and she took no notice. My penis suddenly erupted great
gouts of semen; I had never before experienced a feeling like it. I kept
harking back to the time when I lost my own virginity to my live-in
girlfriend, and I was certain that the feeling had never as been pleasurable
as this.
Sarah realised that I had passed my climax and she leaned forward, kissing
me passionately, to which I responded with equal passion. We lay there in a
sort of semiconscious haze for several minutes as my penis slowly wilted and
fell out of her vagina. I could feel the semen dripping from her vagina on
to my scrotum, so I reached into the bedside table drawer again and fetched
out a small sweat-towel which I used to wipe her vagina and my scrotum. Then
I gently laid her on her back, put the towel between her legs and closed her
thighs to keep it in place. One item I had forgotten to buy was a pack of
menstrual tampons because I wasn't used to considering such things, and I
would probably have been extremely embarrassed to ask for them anyway. So I
decided that the way to avoid the semen leaking out of her vagina and on to
the sheets was to turn the sweat-towel into a nappy, pin it on to her and
cover it with her knickers. When I suggested this, she laughed, sucked her
thumb in baby-fashion and said "goo-goo," but accepted it as the most
comfortable option for a night's undisturbed sleep. I told her that come
hell or high water I would buy a pack of tampons for her tomorrow. That
operation completed, we lay down and cuddled together. I switched off the
light and we drifted off to sleep.
      *
Next morning, I had a phone call from Valerie at her motel in Bristol. I
hoped that she was having a relaxing and successful weekend, and she
confirmed that she was having a wonderful time. Then she asked to speak to
Sarah, so I passed the phone over, dressed and went downstairs to make
breakfast for the two of us. While I was cooking sausages and bacon, Sarah
wandered into the kitchen, sniffed the air and declared that she had never
felt so hungry. She put her arms around my waist and leaned her head on my
chest. I responded by kissing the top of her head, and wanted to know if her
mother had approved of our joys of the previous night.
"How do you know she asked about it?"
"If she hadn't, there would have been something wrong with her," I replied.
"I told her that we had a wonderful experience, and that I now felt I was a
woman, rather than a child. She told me that she was over the moon about it,
and that she had known instinctively almost from the first meeting that you
were the one to take my virginity and to love me for ever."
"Well, sweetie, 'for ever' is a bit of a tall order. You may well change
your mind in a few years' time after you have passed puberty. I hope not,
but it's always a possibility."
"I had a feeling you might say that, Michael, and I suppose you're right.
Neither of us can predict the future with any accuracy, especially in the
next five years."
Once again, Sarah's wisdom beyond her years was astonishing. Almost any
other eleven-year-old in this position would have vowed with dreamy eyes
that she would never change, and would be waiting for Prince Charming to put
her on his white horse and gallop away to his golden palace. But this young
lady had her feet firmly on the ground.
Today was Saturday, and we decided that we would go shopping to buy Sarah
some grown-up clothes. Even though she was very mature in her thinking, she
was still female and with all the advantages and disadvantages thereby
entailed. And being female, shopping for clothes was bound to be number one
on her wish-list. Rather than drive into town, I decided that we would take
the bus so as to avoid the stiff parking charges. It was only a short walk
to the bus stop, and we found that the bus was quite crowded with Christmas
shoppers. We found a single seat on the lower deck, so we decided that I
would take the seat and Sarah would sit on my lap. As it happened, the
mother and daughter sitting across the aisle from us were near-neighbours of
Sarah's, and they chatted for a few minutes. The daughter's name was Julie
Southern, and her mother introduced herself as Helen. Julie was a month
younger than Sarah and she was a pupil at the same school that Sarah would
be attending in the New Year. When the two started discussing their
favourite pop-music groups I looked across at Helen, rolled my eyes and
grimaced, much to her amusement.
When the bus arrived at the shopping centre, Helen, Julie, Sarah and I got
off; since the two children were both about to indulge in similar atrocities
we decided to stay together. I found Helen to be very pleasant company, and
while the girls were excitedly selecting dress after dress, sweater after
sweater and other items of clothing, we traded life stories. Helen's
husband, David, was an accounts clerk with ambitions towards becoming a
chartered accountant. Helen worked at the police headquarters in the town;
she was clerical staff, not a police officer. She was surprised to learn
that Sarah was not my daughter, but simply the daughter of a friend, and I
was looking after her for the weekend and probably for many weekends into
the future because her mother was enjoying a strong relationship with her
current boyfriend. Looking at the two girls, I could see that they were
becoming good friends quite quickly, but I had expected that because it was
in Sarah's nature.
Eventually they managed to choose some items for their winter wardrobe,
Helen and I paid our respective bills and we decided to go to the
coffee-shop in the store. Before the waitress brought our chosen drinks, the
two girls decided to use the toilet facilities, enabling Helen and me to
continue our life-stories. I related to her how Sarah and I had met, and
suggested that as she worked at police headquarters, she could probably
access the officer's report on the incident. I told her that I had recently
separated from my partner of six years, and that I was glad we hadn't
married. I knew that Sheila (my ex-) would have acted the same way even if
we had been married, so that we had saved the costs of lawyers, courts and a
host of other unpleasant things. By way of contrast, Helen and David were
very happy, they had been childhood sweethearts and they couldn't visualise
any kind of life other than being married to each other. I expressed a
slight degree of envy that they were so happy and I wasn't, but that was the
way of the world.
"You'll find someone before too long," Helen predicted. "You're a nice,
steady man, and that's what the more sensible girls are looking for."
"If you keep talking like that, you'll have to divorce David and marry me,"
I said, and we both laughed.
The girls returned, and after we had finished our drinks we walked to the
bus-stop for the trip home. When we separated to go our different ways, we
exchanged addresses and phone numbers; Helen decided that we would have to
get together again. Julie and Sarah agreed wholeheartedly, and Helen thought
that a sleep-over would be a good way for the girls to get to know each
other better. I could only agree, having decided that Julie would be an
excellent 'best friend' for Sarah.
Arriving home, Sarah decided to display her new outfit to me. She ran
upstairs to her bedroom, changed and walked slowly downstairs as though she
were a debutante coming downstairs as the guest of honour at her coming-out
ball. Fortunately, the dress wasn't at all impractical, and she looked as
though she had excellent dress sense, which she probably inherited from her
mother. I picked her up in my arms and swung her round; in that sweet moment
she was a normal eleven-year-old again and I was the nearest thing she had
to a father. Then she took hold of my hand, led me upstairs to our bedroom,
removed the dress and said, "I want you to fuck me again, Michael. Now! And
hard!" The eleven-year-old child had been replaced by the
twenty-one-year-old woman.
I undressed, removed her remaining clothing, and we both lay on the bed.
Before she could do anything else, my tongue was soaking the outer lips of
her snatch and my fingers were penetrating her vagina and anus in the same
way that had sent her to her own private heaven the previous day. I retained
this position as I moved my body around to place my penis near her mouth,
and within seconds I felt the familiar touch of her tongue on my glans. But
this time I wasn't planning to give her a late lunch of semen; I was
intending to take her one remaining virginity. I turned her over on to her
stomach and lifted her hips so that her bottom was the highest part of her,
then gently introduced my tongue into her anus. She jumped as if hit by an
electric shock, then settled to enjoy the sensation. I reached into the
bedside table drawer to fetch the KY jelly, anointed my penis and her anus
with liberal quantities and then placed the head of my penis at her little
brown hole. I urged her to bear down as if pushing out a large turd, and
slowly slid my helmet in towards her rectum. She gasped as her anus
stretched to accommodate my penis, but didn't complain. I guessed that she
was enduring some degree of pain, but was stoically accepting it.
When my glans was fully inside her anus, I stopped pushing to allow her to
get used to the invader. I told her to let me know when she was ready for
more insertion, and she responded by placing her hand on my buttock and
pulling me towards her. I responded in turn to the increased pressure of her
hand by pushing slightly harder, and stopping as her hand released. It
seemed to take hours for complete insertion, but it was probably less than
two minutes. At the end of it, my pubic hair was against her buttocks and my
scrotum was against her snatch. I was all the way in, and the feeling was
wonderful. I started pumping, slowly and gently at first, then with
increasing speed and length of stroke. I could feel the same action by her
sphincter on my shaft as I had felt on my finger the previous night, but the
feeling was many times more pleasant. As I withdrew my shaft outwards, I
could feel the muscle squeezing in an attempt to prevent further extraction,
to which I responded by pushing in again. It didn't take much of this to
cause the boiling feeling to rise in my loins, and I knew I was on the verge
of exploding inside her. I could do nothing to stop it, and my penis erupted
its baby-making lava inside her bowels. My whole body was jerking
uncontrollably, and with each jerk my penis was thrusting into her rectum
and pouring more semen into her. I rolled over on to my side, taking her
body with me so that we were lying spoon-fashion; my body was still jerking
and my penis still ejecting smaller and smaller jets of semen. I had never
experienced a feeling such as this in my whole life - it was an order of
magnitude stronger than the previous night in her vagina.
We rested in that position until my penis signalled the end of the episode
by shrivelling and falling out of her anus. I noted that despite the fact
that she had emptied her bowels that morning, there was a fair amount of
brown on the helmet. I carried Sarah to the bathroom and sat her on the
toilet to expel the semen while I washed her ordure from my penis as she
watched with interest. She was amazed at the quantity of semen which escaped
her rectum, and when I looked in the pan, so was I. I told her that it was
because she was so sexy, and that I had enjoyed that fuck more than any
other, ever in my life. She admitted that although she had enjoyed it
immensely, it couldn't compare with the previous vaginal entry. We laughed
and agreed to differ. Then I wiped her bum and lifted her off the seat into
a fierce cuddle. I kissed her and told her that she had made me happier than
I had ever known, and I wanted to give her the same love and happiness. She
kissed me back and replied that I didn't have to want, I already had.
With that, we dressed and went downstairs, both completely exhausted
sexually. Daylight was fading, and I decided that we would go out to a
proper restaurant for our evening meal - no McDonalds or similar fast-food
establishments. We went to a pub that I had previously visited with
colleagues from work; it was a no-frills, good food type of place and I knew
we would enjoy the meal. Sarah and I both had steaks, which made her feel
quite grown-up as Valerie had never been able to afford such luxuries. After
the meal, we went for a drive into the countryside to admire the stars on
this clear night, and she sat on my lap in the passenger seat just as she
had done at our first meeting. She kissed me and cuddled me and I felt that
life had little more to offer than this.
We listened to music on the radio for an hour or so, just enjoying each
other's company. Then it was time to return home, and when we arrived I
decided to carry her over the threshold as though she were my new bride.
This resulted in a peal of laughter, followed by a loving kiss.
We went upstairs to bath and retire for the night. Naturally, we bathed
together and went to bed in our birthday suits. Sarah was rather tired,
having indulged in considerable exertion during our sex-session, and I had
to admit to a similar degree of tiredness. Without further sexual thoughts,
we cuddled and slept.