Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I'm not sure I should be telling this story.  After all, she was just 11
and I'm 22.  I once made a rule for myself that I would never date a girl
less than half my age.  That was when I was 16 and it's never been a
problem -- until now.

   A fraternity brother of mine was from France and his family owned a bar
in Paris -- Cafe Mabillon, in a great left-bank location on Blvd St
Germain. He worked there during the summers and invited me to work with him
since they always needed waiters who spoke english.  "What the hell?" I
thought.  "Why not?" He had convinced me that the tips were good and the
dating opportunities even better, what with english and american women
travelling and horny.  Giles and I found an affordable little apartment
between the cafe and the Seine.  It was a walk-up but the apartment was
only on the second floor (first floor in France).

   Giles was right about the action.  I was hit on almost nightly and
hooked up three or four times a week.  Some americans, a few of whom were
forty-something cougars, several swedes, some english and even a french
girl now and then.  But my language skills in french, while sufficient to
wait tables, weren't very good at getting french girls into the sack. 
Giles taught me some but he wasn't always around when I needed him.  We
both worked weekends but business during the week was a little slow and he
and I would trade off working the late hours.  Week nights, business was
brisk every night between about four and seven but then tailed off into the
dinner hours.  One waiter was plenty to handle the dinner crowd, mostly
regulars from the neighborhood.

   Then there was this american family, a middle-aged couple and their
daughter, who began to stop by about 5 o'clock.  He would have a martini,
she would have an expensive sherry and they would order a diet Coke for
their daughter.  She was always dressed like Alice In Wonderland, except
that she was brunette.  Lots of frilly dresses with lace and ribbons, knee
socks and black mary janes; the perfect Little Miss.  Dad was always
wearing a business suit, mom wore designer dresses.

   I was mesmerized by the daughter.  Now, first of all, I like thin,
small-busted, narrow-hipped women.  The volleyball type.  She wasn't tall
but she was young and her hips and bust were just beginning to form.  I
could tell her legs had some shape but it wasn't until she wore a sheer
blouse on one visit that I could see a bra with some bumps underneath.  Her
hair was softly curled and expertly coiffed.  This family had money.

   She caught me staring at her several times.  I would smile discreetly
and she would return it briefly before she looked away, apparently afraid
her parents might notice.  Then one night, a Thursday, she returned about 8
o'clock, alone and dressed very differently -- a teeny little white pleated
skirt with a striped T that looked like it had been painted on and
spaghetti-strap sandals with little heels..  Her hair was up in a pony tail
and she had painted her lips a dark red -- too dark.  She loooked like a
very young hooker with enough money to buy really expensive clothes.

   I was in my usual position when waiting for customers, standing on the
sidewalk near the entrance.  We have a few tiny tables on he sidewalk that
people like to use when it's sunny and warm.  But itt had rained earlier,
so there wasn't much of a crowd and those tables were empty.

   "Hi," she said as she sat at the table next to where I was standing, her
eyes glittering.

   "Hi," I said.  "What can I get you?"

   "I'd like a champagne," she said matter of factly.  I was taken aback as
the drinking age in France is 18 and she couldn't possibly be even close to
18.

   "I'll need to see some ID," I told her.

   "Oh, I don't have any ID," she said.  "But I really want a glass of
champagne.  It's one of the things I have to do before I go back home."

   "Where is home?"

   "Cincinnatti"

   "So, do they let you drink in Cincinnatti?"

   "No."

   "Then you must understand why I can't serve you alcohol here." She
looked crushed, almost to cry.  "So why did you think I'd serve you?" I
continued.

   Her lower lip quivered as she looked up at me.  "Because I thought you
were a nice guy." Then she added, "And it's one of the things I said I
would do in Paris.  I promised myself." She sat brooding for a few moments.
"I don't want a lot," she said.  "Just a small glassful."

   "We could get busted for that," I said.

   "Maybe you could make it look like water," she said.

   "It's bubbly.  It doesnt look like water."

   "Some water is bubbly -- like Perrier."

   "Yes, but it's served in a water glass, not stemware."

   "Ok.  So could you bring me a water glass with some champagne in it?"
She said this with a pleading look and furrowed brow.  "Pretty please?"

   I was looking at her legs, which I was seeing for the first time in a
short skirt and without knee-length socks.  These were great legs!  Thin
but shapely and this kid couldn't be over13.  Nonetheless, she had already
discovered how women get their way - show a little thigh or titty.  Create
the hint of possibility.

   Her T-shirt was a size too small for her, not that I minded of course,
revealing two half-plum-sized titties.  I couldn't see a bra.  Yum!

   I really liked the look of this but, geez, she was a kid.  Jail bait. 
Nonetheless, in that instant, my mind flashed a scene where she was
straddling me, naked, little titties bouncing, a sheen of perspiration on
her forehead as she rode me in my nearby apartment.  This was my crotch
talking, not my head.

   "Oh, no," I thought.  "Not at this age.  Serving alcohol to a minor is
one thing, doing her is quite another."

   "I'd be ever so grateful," she continued as she hiked her skirt up until
I could see the crotch of her panties underneath.

   "No," I said to myself.  "She didn't mean it that way." But the
twitching of my dick in my pants said otherwise.  This girl was serious. 
She was offering to let me see -- or maybe get into -- what was in those
panties.  Holy shit!  Now I was conflicted!  I looked at her pleading eyes,
the bumps in her T-shirt, the long, slim thighs and the white panties and
my heart started pounding.  "You're not going to do this," I thought. 
"Yes, I am," came right over the top of the 'No.'"

   "Wait here," I told her.  I looked around.  First of all, there were
only two customers inside and I knew neither of them spoke english.  The
bartender was cool and wouldn't hassle me over the champagne.  And,
finally, whether I got into those panties or not, I couldn't let the
possibility go by.  "Go inside to one of the tables along the front.  I'll
get your champagne."

   "I need to use the toilette," she said.  "Just put it wherever you want
me to sit."

   I ordered a split of champagne and a bottle of Perrier as she
disappeared into the restroom area, wiggling that little ass of hers. 
Clement, the bartender, raised his eyebrows at my order but, like I said,
he was cool and, I think, a little curious.  I poured the champagne into a
water glass and set the Perrier on the tray, then I placed both on a table
inside and as far away from the two customers as I could.  The table was at
the front, next to the sliding glass windows that we open on warm days. 
There are two steps up coming into the bar, so the tables are raised
somewhat from street level.

   I went back to my post outside to wait.  Shortly, she came back from the
restroom and sat at the table.  I pretty much ignored her for the next few
minutes, only glancing now and then to see if she was drinking the
champagne.  She had drained half the glass in no time at all.  I turned to
face her.  With the raised level to the bar inside, the edge of the table
was just at eye level.

   As I turned toward her, she slowly opened her knees and I could see bare
pussy -- a nice little vertical slit right where her legs met.  The little
vixen had removed her panties in the restroom.  The litttle white skirt
allowed plenty of light to pass through and gave me a picture-perfect view
of her snatch.  My cock twitched again.

   I looked up at her eyes and found them locked on mine.  A little smile
crept onto her face but I had to look back down at her crotch again and
that dark slit staring at me.  A passer-by broke the spell.  She closed her
knees as he passed.  I went back inside.

   "May I get you another?" I asked.

   "No, thank you." She smiled sweetly.  "But don't you want to know what
else is on my 'Must-Do' list?"

   "Sure."

   "Well, I want to be kissed in the moonlight on a bridge overlooking the
Seine."

   "I see."

   "And, finally, I want to lose my virginity to a frenchman."

   "Wow!" I said.  That's a pretty tall order for a girl your age."

   "How old do you think I am?" she asked.

   "I don't know."

   "I'm almost 12."

   Holy Shit!  'Almost 12' means 11!  Here I am thinking about boffing an
11-year-old kid.  This must be a dream.  That's the fantasy dream I have
some nights.  It's an extension of the flash I had just a few moments ago.
I see a girl about her age with the same long legs and chest bumps playing
with dolls somewhere.  The place is hazy; I guess it doesn't matter.  But
she comes over to where I'm sitting and asks if I'll play with her.  She's
a little old for dolls and so am I, so I ask, "What do you want to play?"
She says, "Doctor." So, somehow, we get back to some room somewhere and she
asks me to take off all my clothes so she can give me a physical -- which i
do, gladly.  She looks me over, running her hands over me and notices my
hardening dick.  "Oh," she says.  "That's not supposed to be hard.  I'll
fix it." And so she proceeds to suck me until I cum in her mouth and become
flaccid again.  "That's better," she says.  The dream usually goes on and
we eventually end up doing it but now I shake my attention back to the
present.

   "That's a little young to be losing your virginity."

   "No, it's not.  I'm gonna be in the seventh grade next year and some of
my friends have already done it with boys."

   "So, you want to keep up with them?"

   "It's not that.  It's because it's part of becoming a woman."

   "Yes, but there are a number of things that are part of becoming a
woman."

   "I know that.  But you can see I'm getting boobs and I've got some hair
on my, you know, and I've already had a period."

   "Ohhhhh.  Maybe that's a little too much information."

   "Well, losing my virginity is something I want to do while I'm in Paris.
It's a one-time thing and it's got to be special"

   "And how long will you be here?"

   "Just tonight.  We're leaving tomorrow."

   "So, couldn't you just lose your virginity back in Cincinnatti?"

   "No.  It's got to be here.  It would be oh so romantic to do it here for
the first time."

   "Tonight?"

   "Yeah."

   Ohhh my gawd!  I should have bought a lottery ticket today.  She looks
around to see if anyone is watching and then opens her knees again.  This
time, she reaches down and uses her middle finger to make a long, slow
upward stroke along the length of her slit.  She removes her hand and
places that same finger in her mouth and idly sucks on it for a moment
before continuing.

   "So, will you?"

   "Take your virginity?"

   "That sounds so...well, yucky.  How about 'have sex with me?'"

   "Aww, geez, kid..."

   "Don't call me 'kid!' I'm almost a woman."

   "You're almost a woman but you're still a kid, too."

   "My parents call me a kid.  They think I'm still five years old.  Mom
still makes me wear those yucky frilly dresses like I'm still a baby. 
Well, I don't want to be a kid any more.  I want to dress like this and
drink champagne and...and HAVE SEX!"

   "Jesus, ki..uhh..  sweetie.  Keep it down.  I'm just one step from jail
as it is right now."

   "So...  will you...  can we..." Then her voice came down to a whisper.
"Can we have sex tonight?"

   "You gotta do this tonight?"

   "Yeah.  Like I told you, we're leaving tomorrow."

   Damn!  My cock was trying to get stiff in pants that were too tight for
it to happen.  It was semi hard and bent double.  I couldn't help myself. I
reached down and freed it to straighten inside my pants, a move that wasn't
lost on...  Shit.  I didn't even know her name.  "What's your name,
sweetie?" I asked.

   "Lauren, And I can see you want to," she said, watching me rearrange
myself.  I could see myself being hauled off to the slammer by french
police.  On the other hand, she didn't know my name or where I was from and
she'd be on a plane tomorrow and out of my life.  How many times does a guy
get an offer like this?  The little head down in my pants was telling me,
"Go, go go!'

   "Well, I work 'til 10."

   "That's ok.  My folks won't be back until after midnight."

   "So, look.  Why don't you go home and change into
something...ummm...something less sexy and then come back here at 10?"

   "Ok.  But don't forget, I want to kiss in the moonlight on a bridge over
the Seine."

   "Ok.  But that's jamming a lot into two hours."

   "He he.  That's funny.  I was just thinking about you jamming a lot of
that," she said looking at my crotch,"into this." as she put her hand down
between her legs again.  "See ya at 10," she said, bounding out of her
chair and out the door.

   "Shit," I told myself.  "She didn't even pay for the champagne." Oh,
well.  Nothing is free these days.

   -------------------------- Exactly at 10 she reappeared, this time
wearing a long coat.  By this time I had already finished for the evening
-- chairs, tables, floor all swept, cleaned and arranged for the morning
business.  Giles would turn off the lights and lock up.

   She smiled sweetly, holding her coat tightly closed.  I wanted to kiss
her right there but, luckily, my good sense, what little of it was left,
took over and I simply took her hand as we walked down Rue Dauphine toward
the Seine.  I hadn't noticed how tall she was until now -- probably about
five-four.

   We walked onto the bridge as far as the statue of Henry the Fourth,
where a wide spot has been built to accommodate the statue; it's in shadow
at night.  As we reached the stone railing, Lauren said, "I want to show
you something." She opened her coat.  She was naked.  Not a stitch!  She
had the coat and her shoes.  Nada mas.  Nothing!  First I was astounded. 
Next I was delighted as she had the shape I dream of thin, boyish hips,
small boobs with lovely pink aureoles and greatlegs.  Holy mackerel.  At
11! Yeah, she would develop more shape and bigger boobs but what a body! 
White, creamy skin with no sign of a tan line.  I don't think she's ever
worn a swim suit.  Her small breasts like conical headlights pointing
straight ahead.  My dick sprang to attention, which was what she wanted,
I'm sure.

   "Sweetie, you look fantastic," I said.

   "I was hoping you'd like it."

   "I do, I do."

   "So, kiss me.  We don't have much time."

   Happy to oblige, I stepped forward and she enfolded me into her coat,
arms and coat wrapped around me.  She tilted her head back and closed her
eyes, waiting.  I leaned down and pressed my lips against her ever so
slightly.  The world's tenderest kiss.  We held the kiss for a few moments
before I slid my tongue forward between her lips.  She parted her teeth and
allowed me entry, then she pulled away and cried out, "A french kiss!  I've
never done that before.  Do it again."

   She was a quick and enthusiastic student.  Her mouth opened as soon as
our lips touched and our tongues began a writhing dance.  She even tasted
good.  I already had toughts of how she tasted down between her legs and I
intended to find out soon.

   "Can we go to your place now?" she asked, breaking our hot kiss.

   "I'll die if we don't," I answered.

   "That's soooo cool," she gushed, wrapping her coat around herself. 
"You're all hot already."

   "Of course I am, when you flash me your naked bosy and then give me a
four-alarm kiss like that."

   "Good," she said.  "I want you hot and ready 'cause we don't have much
time."

   This girl was fantastic.  Not only did she want sex but she wanted it
NOW!  She wanted it HOT!  We walked briskly.

   It wasn't yet 10:30 but my building was deathly quiet, as usual.  It was
an old building housing mostly old people.  Few amenities but low rent. 
Lauren giggled as the sound of our footsteps echoed up the stairwell.  Even
the sound of the key in the lock seemed outrageously loud.  I whispered,
"Come inside," and in a flash she was past me and into the room -- a studio
with everything in one room: living, bed, kitchen.  Well, two rooms.  The
bathroom was separate.

   Lauren walked over to the bed, turned to face me and slowly dropped her
coat.  She sat on the edge of the bed and patted the bed next to her.  My
God.  She had me acting like a trained dog: a simple movement of the hand
was my command and I followed instantly.  You would, too, if you were being
offered this girl's pussy as a treat.

   I removed my jacket, followed by my shirt, pants, socks and underwear,
all in a slow, deliberate strip tease.  When I was completely naked, I
walked over to her but instead of sitting, I extended my hand.  She stood
and we moved together.  I could feel her boobs against my ribs a few inches
below mine.  My already stiff cock pressed against her belly.  We ground
our bodies together as we kissed.

   I was already experienced at this and I was amazed that this girl, this
beginner, this virgin could go with the flow, so to speak.  God, she was
hot!

   She pulled me toward the bed.  "Sweetie," I said, "There's some stuff
you may not know yet about sex."

   "What?"

   "Well, for one, I have a hair trigger the first time I have sex."

   "What's that?"

   "If the girl is really tight, and I suspect you are, I get
over-stimulated and cum right away."

   "So?"

   "So, it doesn't give you a chance to enjoy our coupling."

   "I'm ok with that."

   "No, you shouldn't be.  It's my job to make it good for you.  You see,
sex is mostly about recreation these days, not procreation."

   "Not making babies, you mean."

   "Exactly."

   "Well, that's good, 'cause I don't want a baby.  I just want to have
sex."

   "And another thing, it'll probably hurt this first time and so I'll want
to do everything I can to minimize your intitial discomfort."

   "Oh, you don't have to worry about that.  I've already broken my...you
know, my cherry."

   "You have?"

   "Yeah.  I read about that and I didn't wanted to make my first time less
beatiful.  I didn't want to feel pain and bleed all over, even for just a
few seconds."

   "So, how did you do that?"

   "Different stuff.  I started with my hairbrush 'cause my friend told me
she did it that way.  But I didn't like the way it felt so I used a carrot.
That felt a lot better.  I tried a cucumber once but it was too big -- you
know, too big around."

   "So, this has been a long-time project."

   "Yeah.  I used to dream about my first time; where it would be and who
it would be with.  I still do."

   "Ok.  So let's make sure we both understand what we're about to do." She
nodded.  "We're going to give each other pleasure.  Notice I said 'give.'
Good lovers know that your aim in making love is to give enjoyment to your
partner.  Bad lovers just want someone to make them feel good.  It's a
question of giving instead of taking."

   "Ok."

   "Now, I have a little problem; I cum too soon the first time around."

   "So?"

   "So, it denies you the pleasure of your own orgasm and that's not good.
It's selfish."

   "Ok."

   "So, what I ask of my partners is that you get me off either with your
hand or with your mouth.  I'll need a few minutes rest and then I can go
for hours.  Well, maybe not for hours but for a long time -- enough time to
get you off two, three, four times.  Then you'll be satisfied."

   "Ok.  I've never done this before.  Tell me what to do."

   "I prefer oral; it feels better and it's faster.  Are you ok with that?"

   "I think so.  I've seen pictures."

   "All right.  Now, when I cum, some girls like to swallow it, others
don't.  If you prefer, I'll warn you when it's about to happen and you can
take your mouth off and just let me spurt on my stomach and chest."

   "Ok," she said.

   "I'll lie down here and you kneel between my legs, You can do it from
the side or in reverse, sitting on my chest, but it's a lot better when
your tongue can rub along the underside of my cock.  That's where it's most
sensitive."

   "Ok." She scooted over so I could lie down and then crawled over my leg
to position herself.  "This is kinda cool," she added.  She held my cock up
daintily with the tips of her thumb and forefinger and bent down to taste
it.  "Mmmm.  It tastes good."

   "Wrap your fingers around the shaft and move your hand slowly up and
down," I told her.  She did.  "Now put the whole head into your mouth and
suck on it.  Rub the surface of your tongue along the bottom side of the
head as you suck it."

   Suddenly, her cheeks went hollow as she closed her lips around it.  Her
eyes were wide, as if she was trying to suck a too-thick milkshake through
a straw.  It felt WONDERFUL!  This girl was incredible.  She was giving me
an expert blowjob on her first try.  Even the slurping sounds as air passed
through the occasional space between her lips and my cock felt good.

   "Oh, baby.  That feels so good," I grunted as she worked on the head. 
"Now try to take a little more of it into your mouth," I instructed. 
"Good, sweetie.  You're doing great.  Now bob your head up and down as you
suck.  Let it come in and almost out of your mouth.  Yeah.  Go down, then
up.  Work it in and out." Man, this was incredible.  Maybe it was because I
was watching her face as she blew me or maybe it was because she was such a
natural cocksucker; I don't know.  At any rate, in just a few minutes I was
getting close.  My balls began to tighten and my toes started to curl as I
approached my orgasm.

   "Ok, baby," I said.  "I'm almost there.  When I say 'go,' lift your head
up." I heard a muffled "Mmppfft." She increased her tempo and my legs
cramped and I involuntarily lifted my hips.  "GO, BABY, GO!" I shouted. 
But she waited a second or two too long and caught the first spurt in the
back of her throuat.

   "Gaack!  Sputter Whooof." She spit some, coughed some and swallowed
some. Now her eyes were really wide.  "OHMIGOD!" she gushed.  "That's
SOOOOOO COOL!  I LOVE that!" She continued to jack my cock as two, three,
four more spurts of cum went onto my stomach and, finally, the last of it
drooled down her hand.  She brought her hand up to her mouth and licked and
sucked it clean.  I fell bacl onto the bed; she leaned forward, supporting
herslf with her hands on either side of me and proceeded to lick most of
the cum off my stomach.  "that is SOOOO good," she cooed.  "Yum," she
continued, smacking her lips.

   "Holy shit!" I thought to myself.  An 11-yesr-old cum drinker.  A
first-timer, too.  I lifted my head to watch her cleaning me up with her
tongue.  "I take it you like cum."

   "Wow!  I sure do.  Nobody ever told me it tastes so good; kinda salty,
with a strange taste.  It's like a salty pudding."

   "I'm glad you like it.  Now let me up so I can clean myself off.  Then
we can cuddle for a few minutes." She moved aside and to let me roll off
the bed and get to the bathroom.  A little warm water on a wash rag and I
was tidy again.  I rinsed the wash rag in more warm water and took it to
Lauren so she could wipe her face.

   "Thanks," she said, rubbing the cloth around her face.  Then she wiped
it on her little titties.  "Mmmmm.  I love a warm cloth on my boobs," she
added.  I lay down on the bed and motioned for her to lie beside me.  She
scooted up tightly against me, lying on her side, and threw one leg over
mine.  "I could do this every day," she said when she had gotten
comfortable.  "How long before we can fuck?"

   "If you'll use your mouth on me again it'll just be five or ten
minutes," I answered.  I turned my head toward her and we kissed softly. 
No tongue this time but I could taste my cum on her.

   "Oh, goody," she said.  "I can hardly wait to get that thing up inside
me."

   "Do you think it'll fit ok?"

   "I'll make it fit!  It's bigger than my carrot but smaller than the
cucumber."

   "Just to make it as easy as possible, I'm going to lube us up first. 
It'll make us both really slippery."

   "You're gonna wear a condom, aren't you?"

   "Of course, sweetie.  You alrady told me you've started your periods."

   "Well, only one so far, but I don't want to take any chances."

   "Good girl.  Always remember that sex is for fum, not for making
babies."

   "Yeah.  You said."

   We just snuggled for a few minutes and then Lauren asked, " Do you think
you're ready yet?"

   I felt her hand on my cock, just holding it.  But that was enough for me
to feel it stirring.  "I think so," I answered.  "Now it's my turn to get
YOU ready."

   I rolled her over onto her back and kissed her softly before slowly
working my way southward, kissing her shoulders and then her titties, one
by one.  "Oh, that feels good when you do that.," she cooed.  So I spent a
little more time there, gently sucking on each nipple and flicking them
with the tip of my tongue, one of her hands lightly holding my head in
place.

   She giggled when I continued down, kissing her tummy and then all around
her pubic bone.  She had just a hint of hair there -- a wispy light brown
mustache of fine straight hair.  I kissed and licked along either side of
her pussy without actually touching it.  I licked along the crease where
her legs met her body and drank in the sweet odor she had begun to create.
She tasted like lavender soap and smelled the sweet, musky scent of a woman
in heat.

   "Ohmigod!" she wailed.  "DO IT!"

   I lifted my head and said, "You're not ready yet."

   "Yes, I am."

   "No, you're not," I answered as I went back to preparing her.  I wanted
her fully aroused and gushing before I tried to enter her.  Her pussy was
swelling and opening, a little pink ruffle where her inner labia were
pushing themselves outward.  They looked like glistening flower petals. 
She was ready for my tongue now so I plunged, tongue-first into the flower,
like a hummingbird with a very soft beak.

   "Whooooo," she uttered.  Just the sound of air being expelled through
pursed lips as my tongue stabbed in between the petals.  Her hands grabbed
the back of my head, taking handsful of hair as she held me tightly against
her sensitive pussy.  Her knees came up and clamped shut against my sides.

   "Relax, sweetie."

   "I can't.  That feels so good."

   "Try to relax and enjoy.," I said, lifting my face from her pussy for a
moment.

   Now I used my tongue to make long, slow strokes upward through her soft,
swollen labia.  Her juices were beginning to flow, smearing my face.  Her
whole body twitched when my tongue made contact with her little clit.  It
was small, just a tiny nubbin, but it was super sensitive, never having
experienced a warm, wet tongue against it.

   "Oooh," she uttered every time my tongue stroked her little clit at the
end of each upward path.  Her fingers threatened to pull handsful of hair
from my head and her hips began to thrust upward with every stroke of my
tongue, wanting to force it deeper.

   I started to suck on her clit, bringing my hand up and slowly inserting
my middle finger into her sopping wet pussy.  She bucked upwards again,
pushing her pussy up and my finger in.  "Ohmigod!" she said again.  I
stroked my finger in and out, curling it upwards to reach her G-spot.  She
was moaning now.  Two fingers, opening her up.  "Oh, please," she begged.
"PLEASE!  Please put it in me." Three fingers.  In and out, rubbing the
length of my index finger against her clit as I frigged her.

   Lauren was writhing on the bed now, definitely ready and pleading with
me to do her.  I reached over to the little night table and took a condom
from the drawer, unrolled it and rolled it onto my hard cock.  She lifted
her head to watch.  Then I grabbed the tube of lubricant and squirted a
dollop onto my fingers and from my fingers onto my latex-enclosed cock.

   Without a word, I rolled back between her legs.  "Bring your knees up,"
I told her, "and spread them wide apart." I positioned my cock at the
entrance to her pussy.  She placed both hands against my chest, not to hold
me back but to be ready to push me away if I hurt her.  She was obviously
quite nervous about what was going down here.

   I rubbed the tip of my cock against her pussy, used it as a soft wedge
to spread her lips and rub her clit.  Her hands remained at the ready
against my chest.  After three or four passes at the entrance I guided my
self a bit lower and quickly found the tunnel.  I pushed only about half
the head in, withdrew a bit, pushed a tiny bit deeper, withdrew, pushed in
a little more -- maybe a quarter inch each time.  She made the "whooshing"
sound, exhaling every time I pushed in.  It took me pehaps ten or fifteen
strokes to get halfway in.  God, she was tight!

   "Easy, baby.  Relax."

   "I can't.  It's so sensitive.  It feels so good every time you move.  My
whole body is shaking," she said.  She was right.  Being unaccustomed to
having a cock up inside her made every little movement a blast of pleasure.
Those millions of nerve endings were feeling what they were made to feel
for the first time as my cock massaged them.

   This was far from my first time but her tightness and the soft waves of
her pussy walls were almost excruciating to me.  I'd never experienced such
intense pleasure as what her hot, puffy pussy was delivering.  I wasn't
going to last unless I took it very slow and rested from time to time.  She
seemed fine with that.

   I continued to push deeper with every slow stroke, finally reaching
bottom before our pubic bones met.  She couldn't handle my entire length. I
could feel the tip of my cock when it pressed against her cervix, at which
point I held still for a few moments so we could both enjoy the sensations.
To me, her pussy was a hot, puffy sheath totally enveloping and gripping my
cock.  I pulsed my cock a couple of times, causing Lauren to giggle at the
unusual feeling of this throbbing probe deep inside her.

   We lay there, connected.  "Is this what you thought it would be," I
asked.

   In little pants she said, "Oh, wow.  This is sooo much better.  You feel
so very good inside me."

   "Good, 'cause it's gonna get better," I whispered as I started to move
again, withdrawing very slowly until I was almost out.  Then down slowly.
Lauren moved her hands away from my chest, satisfied, I guess, that I
wouldn't hurt her.  She brought her feet together behind my knees as I
started a slow, rythmic pace.  A light sheen of perspiration appeared on
her forehead.

   She was groaning, "Oh" and "Yeah" as I increased the pace.  I was also
going deeper now as her body accommodated me.  Faster now; pulling up until
only the tip of my cock remained in her, down until we were pubes-to-pubes.


   The "Ohs" and "Yeahs" changed to "Ungghh" and "Oooff" as I plowed her
faster and deeper.  She was taking it all.  I hadn't really known what to
expect of this not-quite-twelve-year-old girl when we began but she had
obviously prepared herself as much as anyone could for her first time and
she was enjoying it immensely.  Several strands of brown hair were now
plastered to her forehead as she worked up a real sweat.

   The condom was keeping from getting off too soon as her tight, tight
pussy was clamped down on my cock.  And I think she must have been 150
degrees inside that wonderful cunt of hers.  It was hot, it was tight, it
was slippery and it fit me like a glove -- a very tight glove.

   I noticed that her fingernails were digging into my back and she had
brought her knees up and feet were planted on the bed, thrusting her hips
up to meet my every push.  We were in unison, performing like we had
practiced this for weeks.  She was sooooooo good!  Her sloppy pussy was
making obscene sounds as air escaped or was drawn in with my cock pounding
deep into her.  God!  She was meeting every thrust!

   She suddenly stiffened.  "OHMIGOD!" she cried out.  Her hips came up and
stayed up, her back lifted off the bed as she came.  "AAAAAHHHHHH," she
wailed.  And then she relaxed.  I stayed motionless, still deep inside her.
But her pussy was throbbing and pulsing and it soon brought me off, too. 
Without moving, I gushed gobs of cum into the condom, maybe five or six
spurts.  "Oh, wow," she said, quietly.  "Are you cumming?  I can feel it."

   "Yes, I am."

   "So cool.  I mean this is the best thing I've ever done.  It's like
riding six roller coasters one after the other.  Every time gets better.  I
feel like I'm on a cloud and you're plugged into me and holding me.  This
is soooo fucking cool."

   "I didn't know you knew words like that."

   "Fuck?  Of course I do.  Everybody knows that word.  But now I know what
it feels like and I wanna do it all the time.  I can't believe we're
leaving tomorrow.  I'd like to fuck you all night and all day tomorrow."

   "Me, too."

   "Hey!  What time is it?"

   I looked at my watch in the dim light.  "A quarter to 12," I said.

   "Oh, shit," she yelped, pushing me off her.  "I gotta go." She jumped
up, put her shoes on, wrapped the coat around herself and started for the
door.  Then she turned and ran back to where I was still lying on the bed,
a limp dick encased in a cum-filled condom, and she kissed me quickly. 
"Thanks," she said as she disappeared out the door.

   I'm wondering if Giles will have a spot for me at the cafe next year.  I
could be fucking an eighth-grader all next summer.

   ----------------------------- There really is a Cafe Mabillon on Blvd St
Germain in Paris but I've never worked there.  It's just a nice place to
have a drink and watch the passersby.  This story came to mind one day as
two adults and their daughter, a ravishing brunette, sat down near me.


   Let me know if you like my stories.  Write me at CYBERGUY20038@YAHOO.COM