Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Four Sisters, Part 2 (Mffgg slow)

   This never happened.  I wish it had, but it's all fiction.  The girls
exist but none of this ever happened.  So, read and enjoy but remember,
it's MY fantasy, not yours.  Please don't steal my fantasy without my
permission.

   Secondly, no one ever writes to tell me they liked my story.  Well,
ALMOST no one.  I get maybe one acknowledgement for every 1,000 people who
read my stories.  PLEASE write to tell me what you liked or didn't like and
help me become better at this.  Besides, I like to have my ego stroked.  A
REALLY nice letter from a really sexy girl might even get me off.  Wanna
try?

   --------------- Part 2 ------------------------

   I had to make two trips to Home Depot to bring home four chaise longues
in my little SUV but I did it with a song in my head -- "Most Happy Fella,"
from the musical I had recently seen a revival of.  I found patio lights,
too, but they were for another time, another purpose.  I also stopped at
the Soriana across the street and bought some tuna, celery and crackers
with the idea of having ingredients handy for tuna salad, if necessary.

   I was up at dawn the next morning, showered and shaved by 7:00.  I was
so sexed up with anticipation that I went online and read erotic stories
for two hours to try to quiet the buzz between my legs.  I should know
better.  Those stories just make it worse.  I should be reading History of
Western Civilization or something like that.  I was rubbing myself through
my shorts pretty regularly for the next couple of hours.

   It was still foggy at 9:00 but, being the optimist, I shucked my clothes
and put on my robe and went outside with my breakfast.  It was still cool
but quite comfortabe in my robe eating my eggs and toast and orange juice.
The sensation, after four years of college dorms and squalid, low-rent
apartments, was overwhelming.  I was sitting in a private tropical glade
and could do pretty much anything I wanted with no apprehension whatsoever.
Anything that didn't make too much noise, that is.  Making love included.
And my little paradise was the perfect setting -- romantic, private,
inviting.

   The sun appeared about 9:30.  I read an old newspaper in the shade of
the palapa, not wanting to fry myself prematurely while waiting for the
girls.  Ten o'clock came and went; eleven, twelve passed as I finished the
paper, dozed in my shaded chair for a while.  My butt was sore.  I heard
the knock a little after noon.  Thank God!

   The girls all looked like they had swallowed canaries when I opened the
door.  They looked both ways down the street.  "Can we come in," Chrissy
asked.

   "Of course."

   They all piled through the door, jostling each other to get out of the
street quickly even though there wasn't a soul in sight.

   "We couldn't figure out what to tell mom," Chrissy continued.  "So we
just told her we were going to the beach."

   "That's fine," I said.  "This will be your beach today."

   "Hey!" Jill shouted.  "Look!  There's four chairs here." The others
acknowledged her, then we all just stood around, no one knowing how to make
the next move.

   "We brought towels," Chrissy said.

   "I noticed," I replied.  "Good thing, too, 'cause I forgot to buy more."

   "That's ok," she said, looking somewhat lost.  We continued to stand
there.

   They were all dressed in two-piece suits with unbuttoned shirts over --
two flat-chested girls in their little-girl swim suits, one girl with nice
little bumps and the fourth, Chrissy, with an outstanding rack packed into
a very modest bikini, something her mother had undoubtedly approved before
buying.  It was starting already, that quivering down there.

   "So," I said at last, breaking the ice, "who wants which chaise?"

   "Which one is yours?" Jill asked.  The two middle girls, the reluctant
ones, had yet to utter a sound.

   "Why don't you take that one?" Jill said, pointing to one that was
flanked by two others on each side.  "I want this one," she exclaimed,
pointing to one next to the one she had assigned to me.  No shrinking
violet, this one.

   "That's fine," I said.  "Whatever you're comfortable with." I started to
loosen the tie on my robe.

   "Could we....I mean, would it be ok if we left our suits on at first,"
Mary, with the bumps, asked.  She wasn't comfortable with her new self yet,
it seemed or very likey was not comparing favorable to Chrissy in her own
mind.  It was an awkward age for her.

   "Sure," I told her.  "Remember, when you're here you don't do anything
you're not comfortable with and you do anything you want.  Well, except
burn the place down; I don't own it."

   They all laughed and moved to claim their chaises.  Jill took her shirt
off, untied her top and stepped out of the bottoms.  Her skinny little body
didn't have much tan yet and just the vaguest outlines of where her suit
was.  Chrissy spread her towel on her chaise -- the nearest to me opposite
Jill -- and then froze.  I could almost hear her heart beating in panic as
she wrestled with the idea of uncovering those luscious breasts in front of
me.

   Adventure finally won out.  She pulled the string that tied her top with
one hand, held it in place with the other while she fought her inner
battle, the battle where you decide to go against what everyone has been
telling you: don't let guys see your boobies 'til you're married -- or
something like that.  Nature won and religion and repression lost.  The
hands came down and two of the most perfect breasts known to mankind
appeared in front of me.  I didn't want to embarass her by staring, so I
only got a brief view but that initial sighting is still chiseled into my
memory.

   I lay back and watched the two brunettes, Mary and Katie, remove only
their shirts before arranging their towels and themselves on their
respective chaises.  Chrissy had her eyes closed, her hands at her sides.
She was serious about the tanning thing it seemed.  Jill, on the other
hand, propped herself up on one elbow, facing me and said, "How come your
thingy isn't hard today?"

   "I guess it's just tired," I fibbed.  I didn't know what else to say. 
Truth was, I was scared shitless of running the girls off by grossing them
out with a massive hard-on.  I was doing everything I could to keep it soft
and to move things along slowly.  Jill had no such plans, however.

   "What would happen if I touched it?" she asked.

   "It would probably get hard.  It likes being touched by a girl."

   "Can I touch it?" she continued.  Geez, she wasn't going to let up.

   "If you wish.  Remember, I said you could do anything you wanted here."

   "Yeah, I remember." She got up and came over beside me.  Kneeling, she
reached out slowly and touched the shaft with the tip of one finger.  It
bobbed.  "Oooh," she shrieked.  "That's so cool.  Can I do it again?"

   "As much as you like -- until one of us gets tired."

   "I won't get tired.  This is really neat.  I can make it jump just by
touching it with one finger," she said happily, her face showing that
trademark devilish grin. .  Her comments drew the attention of the other
three girls, who turned to see what she was doing.  She touched it again
and again, each time causing it to jump a little.  And it began to grow.

   "Wow!" she exclaimed as she watched it.  "It's getting bigger."

   "Cool," said Katie.  Chrissy and Mary watched but kept silent.  They
knew more about such stuff than the two younger girls.  How much more, I
wasn't sure.  "Let me try it," Katie said as she came around Jill and
pushed her aside.

   "Ok," Jill said.  "You do it once and then I get to do it again."

   Katie touched it right about at the glans, the most sensitive part, and
it bounced a couple of inches, being almost hard now and super-sensitive.
"Wow!" Katie said, proud that she had caused it to behave like that.  "It's
really big now," she added.  "So, why does it do that?" she asked, looking
back and forth between my face and my hard dick.

   "When a girl touches it or rubs it it gets all excited.  Girls get
excited, too -- They get wet down there -- when a guy rubs them -- or when
they rub themselves.  But it's more fun if a guy does it.  And they have a
little spot there that gets hard, just like my dick does; and it gets very
sensitive and feels really, really good."

   Jill reached between her legs and rubbed for a few seconds, rolling her
eyes in deep concentration as she did.  "I don't feel anything," she said.

   "Maybe not," I told her.  "It might be a couple of years before you're
old enough to feel it.  My dick didn't grow or move when a girl touched it
when I was your age.  It'll happen."

   "Try it, Katie," Jill told her.  "Rub yourself down there."

   Katie, now more curious than embarassed, reached between her legs and
rubbed for a few seconds without showing any signs of discovery.

   "You have to take your clothes off," Jill told her, as if she knew. 
Katie wasn't too sure about that.  "Go on, chicken.  I took mine off," Jill
taunted.

   After a few moments of indecision, neither saying 'No' nor complying
with Jill's demand, Katie undid her top and the ties at the sides of her
bikini bottom.  There were now three naked girls in my yard.

   I felt compelled to ensure Katie did it right.  I rubbed the side of one
of my index fingers with the tip of the other to show her how she should
rub herself.  "Use just the side of your finger," I said.  "Rub softly
right in that crease there between your legs.  Be gentle."

   She tried, rubbing gingerly for perhaps 30 seconds.  "I don't know if
it's working," she said.

   "Is it getting slick?" I asked.

   "I don't know."

   "I'm pretty good at it, if you want me to show you how," I said.  She
stood mute.  "I'm sure the two older girls get wet when they rub themselves
but I don't know if you're old enough yet."

   This was now a challenge to her maturity.  "Ok.  You try it," she said
at last.  The two older girls were now quite attentive and curious to see
what I did, to see if I had some new method they hadn't discovered yet,
some new way to pleasure themselves.

   I sat up and motioned for Katie to sit beside me.  "Open up a little
bit," i commanded her.  She spread her legs slowly and cautiously.  I knew
what it must have been like for her to open her legs to a guy she had known
less than a day and, more daunting, do it in front of her sisters, two of
whom were much more mature than she, with full bushes and titties.

   Katie was plainly scared.  For the others it was more academic than
erotic.  The younger girls' lack of experience gave them little clue to
what was likely to happen, or not.  The older girls undoubtedly knew how to
touch themselves but, up to now, it had been strictly trial and error, with
no one to guide them.  For them it must have been a combination of erotic
and academic interest.

   Mary still had her clothes -- well, her bikini -- on; Chrissy was
sitting up watching intently, not so much protectively as curiously.  I
still hadn't had much of a chance to please my eyes with the sight of her
flawless, sexy young body.  But I was now intent on Katie's erotic zone.

   Showing her how I wanted her legs open, I rubbed my hand very lightly up
and down the inside of her near thigh, reaching almost but not quite to the
apex and stimulating one of the most sensitive areas on a girl's body.  I
watched her face for signs of progress -- or trouble.  She closed her eyes:
progress.  I studied her little pussy, still a little-girl pussy with no
obvious pudenda, a fat little peach with a deep groove and a few fine
straight hairs looking more like a five-o'clock shadow than a bush.

   I teased her with fingertips barely brushing her inner thighs, only
inches from her slit.

   "That tickles," she giggled.

   "I know, but it feels nice, doesn't it?"

   "Yeah.  It's a nice tickle."

   I kept my thumb out of the way as I let my hand continue up to her slit
and, very gently, dragged the edge of my index finger from just next to the
thumb out to the very end along and between her labia.

   "Oooh," she exclaimed.

   "Do you feel that?" I asked.

   "Yeah," she answered, as a slight smile appeared.

   I continued to saw back and forth with the edge of my finger with just
enough pressure to split the labia.  I began to feel moisture and her cleft
became somewhat slippery.  "How does it feel?" I asked once more.

   "It feels good," she said.

   "Do you feel how it's getting wet?"

   "Yeah.  Keep doing it!" she told me.

   "Lemme try!  Lemme try!" Jill demanded, pushing my hand out of the way
and stepping between Katie and me.

   "No fair!" Katie yelled.  "Wait your turn!"

   "Hey, girls," I said.  "There's plenty of time and lots to learn.  We
don't have to do everything today.  Why don't we just get some sun for a
few minutes and then continue tomorrow.  We can't stay too long or we'll
burn." Jill and Katie reluctantly agreed and peace returned to #9 Calle
Victor Ruiz.

   The day ended about 30 minutes later when I announced that we were at
risk of turning into pink lobsters.  Three girls were buck naked; the third
seemed to be thinking about it.  I was happy as a clam.  I had made great
progress in one day, much more than I had dreamed.

   The girls dressed and left, promising to return "to the beach" tomorrow
afternoon.  Chrissy said she wanted to bring Cha-Cha by in the morning for
his playtime.  I thought that was a terrific idea since it would get the
two of us together alone.

   After I had closed the gate after them I brought my hand to my face and
sniffed the side of my index finger where it had been pleasuring Katie. 
MMmmm, I thought.  Nature's own perfume.  One of them, anyway.  My two
favorites are the scent of a rose and the scent of a young girl's pussy
when she's aroused.  They are unique in the world.

   I slept little that night, my minding turning over plan after plan for
getting Chrissy into the sack.  Hell, for that matter, getting ANY of them
into the sack.  Jill, though only eight, would be my second choice.  I knew
she was too young for full sex with penetration, I think anal is gross but
I love oral sex and THAT she could do -- and probably very well, given her
enthusiasm.

   I recognized that it was her unbridled enthusiasm that had moved things
along today and I wondered if she really was capable of getting wet down
there at her age -- in the right hands.  Who knows?  I've never tried
anything with a girl her age or younger.  Until today, or a couple days
ago, I never would have considered it.

   I finally drifted off to sleep after I decided that, like today, I would
just relax and let things run their course.  I already had a good helper in
Jill, whose motives weren't suspect as mine must be.  Jill just wanted to
have fun and that was the same attitude I wanted all the girls to adopt.

   Chrissy came by with Cha-Cha around ten.  While Cha-Cha was pooping in a
flower bed at the back of the garden, Chrissy and I sat at the table under
the palapa.  I had a coffee already poured.  "Can I get you something? 
Coffee, a Coke, hot chocolate?"

   "Could I have coffee?" she asked.  "I've never tried coffee."

   "Sure," I said.  "But it's an acquired taste.  I started to drink it in
college to stay awake and, at first, I thought it was terrible.  I tried
adding cream and that was worse.  I added sugar and that was really yucky.
I finally figured out that I should add just the slightest touch of sugar
-- just enough to take the bitter edge off it -- and then it was really
good.  I also discovered that most people make it too weak.  Weak coffee
tastes like, pardon the expression, shit."

   She laughed.  "Let me have some the way you like it -- maybe half a
cup."

   "Sure enough." I put perhaps a tenth of a teaspoon of sugar in a cup
poured half a cup for her.  As I put the cup in front of her I said,
"You're at an age where you're trying new things, exciting things.  Coffee
is just one of them.  You may like it or not; everyone's taste is
different. You do what you like again and again and you stop doing what you
don't like after the first time."

   "Like sex?" she asked.  Unfortunately, I was in the middle of a sip of
coffee when she asked it and I sprayed coffee everywhere.  Very uncool!

   "Yes," I sputtered and coughed.  "Sex is a good example."

   "I've never done sex," she said matter-of-factly.  She took a sip of her
coffee.  "Hmm," she said after tasting it carefully.  "Not bad.  Not good
but not bad."

   "So you don't know about sex, either, then."

   "No.  I've never had anyone who could teach me without making me feel
like a real idiot or else making me do stuff I didn't like.  You made me
feel ok about taking my clothes off yesterday and that's something I NEVER
thought I'd do.  And Katie didn't even want to come at first, then she
didn't want to take her clothes off but then you were touching her in a
place that would have totally freaked me out when I was her age and she was
enjoying it."

   "That's very nice of you to say, Chrissy, and I know you mean it."

   "I do.  I wanted to talk to you alone today because I want to learn all
about sex and I want to learn it from you."

   "Wow.  That's so sweet of you, Chrissy.  I'm flattered and I appreciate
it.  I have to tell you something, though.  Girls your age fall in love
with older guys who give them pleasure.  But it's just that: pleasure.  It
isn't love -- not the marry-me-I'm-yours-forever kind of thing.  Love makes
sex better but sex is terrific even without love.  It feels good.  It feels
REALLY, REALLY good.  It feels better than anything and it makes your body
seem to float on clouds.  I don't know about drugs.  Maybe they do that,
too, but sex is a lot cheaper and less dangerous and, as far as I'm
concerned, is the greatest pleasure possible.  So, can you do this without
making it a love kind of thing?"

   "Sure," she said without hesitation.

   "You say that too quickly.  You need to realize that there's a hundred
guys out there, maybe a few thousand, who could do for you what you're
asking me to do.  I'm not unique.  I'm not husband material, I'm just a
very good lover.  Will you think about it for a day or so?"

   "So, you don't want to do it?" she said quietly.

   "That's not what I said.  Look there's a hundred reasons why I shouldn't
and only one reason why I should.

   "What's that?"

   "I think you're sexy as hell."

   "So why won't you just do it?"

   "Well, first, you're jail-bait.  You must know what happens when a guy
my age is discovered doing sex stuff with a girl your age."

   "Yeah."

   "What if your parents found out?"

   "They won't find out."

   "What if one of your sisters says something?"

   "They can keep a secret."

   "Are you sure?"

   "Yeah, I guess."

   "It's a very tricky thing you're asking me to do, as much as I'd like
to."

   I had popped her bubble, not completely but enough to take away the
feeling of elation that she had expected.  I think she had wanted and
expect me to jump her bones at the first offer but I didn't want a 14
year-old girl head over heels in love with my dick -- or my tongue.  I
wanted a 14 year old girl who enjoyed the time we would spend together and
then continue her life with a better understanding of sexual pleasure than
most teens, male or female, have.  And, I didn't want to ruin her life with
an unwanted pregnancy, as might happen in the back seat of a car with some
guy her own age.

   "So you don't wanna do it?" she said softly, her eyes pleading.

   "I want you to to think about it."

   "I already thought about it, she said, tears forming in her eyes." She
looked away to find her dog.  "C'mon, Cha-Cha," she called.

   As she was hooking the dog's leash I asked, "Are we still ok for today?"

   "Yeah," she said, without much enthusiasm.

   "And will you come by yourself, maybe tomorrow?"

   "I don't know," she answered in the same flat tone.  Her romance hadn't
gotten off the ground as she wanted.

   "Do I get a hug?"

   "Ok," she said and came to me.  We wrapped our arms around each other.
Oh, how great her boobs felt pressing against my chest.  She was taller
than I thought or else she was standing on tiptoe.  I thrust my hips
forward until I felt my now-stiff member pressing against her pelvis.  We
clutched at each other for almost a minute.

   I felt her body shudder with a sob just before she turned away toward
the gate.  She didn't turn to look at me as I opened it but said, "C'mon,
Cha-Cha" and headed down the street.

   I felt terrible.  Besides, I had probably blown the whole thing.  I had
to get my mind off Chrissy so I walked the several blocks to the beach and
stood at water's edge for half an hour skipping rocks off the surface of
the water without ever freeing my mind of the thought that I had lost the
most exciting thing, the most exciting person, I had ever known in my young
life.  Yes, it was just lust if lust, when you're in the throes of it, can
be modified with "just."

   Lust is a superlative.  It is all-encompassing, crushing, smothering,
blinding and yet gloriously uplifting experience.  It's a hunger, a thirst,
a desire, an itch.  It takes your breath and your reason.  It is addictive.
I wanted her.  Throwing rocks at the ocean does no good.

   By the time my arm got tired I had come the conclusion that what would
be would be and that I should just continue to do whatever seemed like a
good idea at the time and things would work out.  I had discovered way
back, probably in high school, that "Yes" is the right answer 90% of the
time.  Meanwhile, I had four honeys coming to see me that afternoon.

   It was after two when they arrived, three of them, anyway.  Jill said
that Chrissy wasn't feeling good and wasn't in a good mood.  "She gets like
that when she has her "monthlies," Jill explained.  I knew the real reason.
"But we're here," she added, smiling brightly.  "Can we take off our
clothes now?"

   "Sure," I said.  I was already in my robe.  "But, like yesterday, we
can't stay out in the sun more than about 45 minutes at first.  After we've
built up a tan we can stay out all day."

   "Yay!" Jill squealed and dropped her bathing suit before the sound of
the word had faded.  Katie took a little more time.  Mary spread her towel
on the chaise she had chosen and turned her back to the rest of us.  I
watched as she brought her hand up behind her back and pulled the tie of
her bikini bra.  She dropped it next to the chaise and then pulled the
bottoms off slowly.  Without looking at any of us, she laid down on her
stomach.  I got just a glimpse of her small conical, young-teen breasts as
she lowered herself.

   Katie sat facing me.  "Can we do some more of what we did yesterday?"
she asked.  "You know, the sex stuff?"

   "Of course," I answered.  "But what we did yesterday wasn't really sex;
it was pleasure."

   "But you were touching me, you know, down there.  Isn't that sex?"

   "Not the way I see it.  Sex is when a guy puts his thing in a girl's
vagina.  What we were doing was just pleasure."

   "What's the difference?" Katie asked.

   "Well, touching doesn't make babies, for one thing.  Kissing doesn't
make babies.  Sex is very specific; pleasure is a lot of things.  Eating
ice cream is pleasure.  Listening to music or reading or looking at
paintings are all pleasures.  Hugs and kisses and massages and singing are
pleasures."

   "So, if you rub my cootchie it isn't sex?" Katie continued.

   "No.  It's pleasure -- but it's not one of those things you want to go
talking about to anyone else.  People have very funny ideas about what is
sex and what isn't, just like you did a minute ago."

   "Oh," she said.  "So we can do it some more?"

   "Sure.  Any time you want.  We can do all sorts of things.  Some days
maybe we can eat ice cream.  Another day we might give each other
massages."

   "I've never had a massage," Katie said quietly.  I could see she was
trying to grasp the idea and imagine what it might be like.

   "Would you like me to give you a massage?"

   "Ok.  But then could you rub my cootchie again?  I tried it last night
but it didn't feel as good as when you did it."

   "I'll be happy to.  Massage first, rub cootchie after.  Actually," I
added, "the massage and the rubbing can be all part of the same 'pleasure'.
I'll rub your back, your front and then your legs, ending with your
cootchie."

   "Cool," she said.

   Jill and Mary were listening intently, Mary lying face down with her
head on her hands facing me, Jill sitting cross-legged on her chaise.  I
could see Jill absently rubbing herself slowly.

   "Lie face down," I told Katie.  She did.  Jill turned enough to face
Katie, still sitting cross-legged and playing with herself.

   "Wet your finger," I told Jill.  "Lick it.  Never rub yourself dry." She
stuck her finger in her mouth and then back between her legs.

   "Yeah," she said.  "This is better."

   I removed my robe and sat straddling Katie's legs, my hands on her
shoulders.  Not much meat on those bones.  I kneaded the muscles at her
shoulders and neck and between her shoulder blades.  "That feels good," she
said, wistfully.

   I rubbed down along her spine and then both sides just above her hips. I
could feel how they were developing, no longer spindly little-girl hips and
just beginning to become curvy woman hips, giving definition to her waist.
Girls have angles, women have curves, unless they're anorexic.

   Then I slid lower and moved my hands to her tiny but furm butt.  I
squeezed and kneaded, first her butt, then her thighs and calves.  Finally,
I rubbed her feet and each toe separately.  "This is soooo cool, Mary. 
You've got to try it." Mary watched but said nothing.

   "I wanna be next," Jill chirped.

   "Maybe we can try some other things with you," I told her.

   "Ok," she said.  She was definitely a 'Yes-Girl.'

   "Ok," I said to Katie.  Turn over.  I stood to allow her to turn and lie
on her back.  This time I folded my robe and knelt on it beside her.  She
was damp with perspiration from the heat.  I started at her knees, using
thumbs and fingers to dig around the kneecaps and then up the fronts of her
thighs, working my way along her hips and then to her arms.  I gave her a
brief rub both above and below the elbows and then both sides of her neck.
Before long, she was limp and breathing slowly and deeply, on the edge of
sleep.

   I moved my hands down from her shoulders to her little buds, moving my
hands in circles so that the centers of each palm brushed as lightly as
possible against her nipples, which became instantly hard and rose like
stubby little fingers above her aureoles.  I spread my fingers and thumbs
around each little mound, then drew them together until they met at the
nipples.  "Ooooh," she sighed.

   Again.  And again a soft little "Ooooh." I leaned down and took the
nearer one between my lips and kissed it, using my tongue to flick the
nipple.  this got an instant "OHHHH." She tensed and her shoulders came off
the mat.

   Raising up again, "Relax," I told her.

   "I couldn't help it," she said, falling back to the chaise.  "That felt
sooooo good."

   Jill and Mary were watching every move.  Mary had moved one hand under
her breast and I suspect was pinching herself there.

   "Do that some more," she said.  It was a demand but said softly and
dreamily.

   I leaned over to reach her far breast with my mouth, encircled it with
my lips and sucked it in.  There wasn't a lot to suck on but what there was
was incredibly sensitive as her body froze again and her hand grabbed the
back of my head and instinctively pulled my mouth tighter against her
little nubbin.  "OMIGOD!" she gasped.

   I flicked her nipple with my tongue as I slowly slid my hand down her
tummy and across her pelvis.  I lightly dragged one fingertip along each of
the little creases where her legs meet her body, pushing down alongside her
vulva but not touching it.  She spread her legs slightly, passion
overtaking modesty.  I trailed my fingertips through the fine hair
appearing on her delta.  So soft.

   Still sucking and flicking her nipple, I moved my hand down along the
inside of her thigh and just let my fingertips graze the surface of the
flesh there.  She spread her legs wider.

   Moving slowly upward, down deep on the underside of her thigh, I trailed
my fingers upward and outward until my middle finger split her slit.  She
was already wet!  I could feel the slick inner labia with my finger.  She
uttered a "Mmphh" sound and pushed her hips higher to meet my finger.

   I pulled my finger upward through her wet groove until it met her little
clit.  I never actually felt the clit but suddenly her legs clamped
together and her hand grabbed mine as she sucked in her breath in a loud
"WWHHOOOFF."

   I froze as she held me there for several seconds.  She said nothing and
then slowly relaxed, opening her legs again and letting her hand lightly
rest on mine, ready to stop me whenever the sensation became too great.  I
turned my hand so that the heel was resting on her mound then curled my
middle finger so that it sunk down into her soft moist interior.  I drew my
hand upwards, dragging my finger against her clit, by now a hard nub, and
again her legs slammed shut and her light grip became vice-like.

   "What are you doing there?" she begged.

   "This is your clitoris.  It's probably the most sensitive pleasure spot
in your body."

   "Yeah," she snorted.  "Wow!  That's too much."

   "Did I hurt you?"

   "No, silly.  It didn't hurt, it felt good.  But it's like when I eat ice
cream and I swallow it too fast and I can feel it all the way down."

   "So that's what it's like when a really good lover rubs your cootchie."

   "Wow.  I'm exhausted -- and I never did anything.  I just lay here."

   "I think you had an orgasm, sweetie."

   "I did?  I never had one before."

   "You know what one is, don't you?"

   "Yeah.  Chrissy told me how she gets 'em but I never had one."

   "Well, it's always easier and better if someone else does the rubbing
for you."

   "I GUESS!"

   "Will you do me now?" Jill asked.

   "Sure," I said.  "I'm going to do you a little differently but we'll
start with the massage."

   "I want you to rub my cootchie, like you did Katie."

   "I will but I'll show you an even better way."

   "Ok," she said, always the 'Yes' girl.

   "How about you, Mary," I asked.

   "I'm ok," she said.

   "Your back has probably had more sun than it needs right now.  Time to
turn over."

   "In a minute."

   "Ok, Jill," I said.  "Lie on your stomach and I'll rub your back and
legs first." She flopped down as instructed and I straddled her, as I had
done with Katie.

   Jill couldn't have been over 80 pounds.  She was this petite, bony thing
with pale skin, a tiny butt and skinny legs.  I started with her shoulders
and couldn't find a whole lot of muscle to massage.  I did her neck for a
minute, rubbing my thumb into the hollow at center-back and up under the
skull.  "That feels nice," she mumbled, her face down against the mat.

   "Turn your head to the side and rest it on your hands," I told her.

   "Ok.  I can feel your thingy on my butt," she said.  "How come it isn't
hard?"

   "Well, I guess I'm not thinking sexy thoughts."

   "You were hard while you were rubbing Katie," she whined.

   "Well, I'll probably get hard when I'm rubbing your cootchie, too."

   "Do you think I'm sexy?" she asked as I slid down and began to knead ber
butt.

   "Very."

   "Why?" she asked.  Geez, she had me there.

   "Well, you've got a cute little butt and your cootchie looks good enough
to eat."

   "But I don't have any titties yet.  Can I be sexy without titties?"

   "Sure you can." I was rubbing her tiny legs, working towards her feet.
Fortunately, she gave up on the 'Am I sexy' thing.  I was running out of
answers and I certainly didn't want to say something that would ruin any
chances I had with her older sisters.  Most of all, I didn't want to come
across as the pervert I thought I was becoming.

   I rubbed her toes and then asked her to flip over on her back so I could
do her front.  She immediately spread her legs wide.  I knelt between her
feet and rubbed upwards along the fronts of her thighs to her pelvis and
then reached up to pinch her tiny nipples.  "That feels good," she
volunteered.

   I slid my hands down her sides and along the outsides of her thighs to
the knees.  "I'm going to do this a little differently," I told her.

   "Different how?" she asked, lifting her head to see my face?

   "You'll see.  Just relax and enjoy." She dropped her head back down and
I felt her thighs and stomach relax.

   Mary and Katie had rolled onto their sides, one on either side of Jill
and me and were watching intently.  I knelt at her feet, between her legs
and rubbed the fronts of her little thighs vigorously in repeated upward
strokes from her knees to a short distance below her crotch, thumbs along
the insides, fingers outside.  Then I let only my fingertips glide along
the sensitive inner thighs, very high up, almost touching her bald little
peach.  It seemed to be open just a fraction of an inch, not enough to be
sure she was reacting.  I thought I could detect a bit of moisture but then
I might have just been optimistic.

   No matter.  After a minute or so of hearing her complain, "That tickles.
Do it more," I leaned forward, supporting myself on my hands and arms on
the chaise and lowered my mouth to her little pussy.  I extended my tongue
so that only it touched her cleft.

   "HEY!" she fairly shouted.  She brought her knees up against my chest
and pushed my head back with her hands.  "What was that?"

   "That was my tongue."

   "Your tongue" she asked, incredulous.

   "Yes, my tongue."

   She sat up, leaning against her elbows.  "Why did you put your tongue
there?"

   "To lick your cootchie."

   "Why would you lick my cootchie?"

   "Because I know it feels good when a guy licks a girl's cootchie. 
Didn't it feel good?"

   "Wellllll...  yeah.  But you surprised me."

   "So, now that you know what I was doing, are you ok with having me do it
some more?"

   "I don't know.  It scared me and I moved too fast.  Do it some more and
I'll tell you.  Is this more sex stuff?"

   "Not sex, sweetie, pleasure."

   "Oh, yeah.  Pleasure stuff."

   "Right.  Now open up if you want more.  Bring your knees up and apart,
that's the best way." She did, but almost reluctantly.

   "It doesn't taste bad when you do that?" Katie asked.

   "Not at all."

   "Doesn't it taste like pee or anything?" she continued.

   "No...well, sometimes.  But a little pee doesn't taste bad.  Besides,
girls make this special goo when a guy pleasures them that washes away any
pee.  That's the stuff you felt down there, the slippery stuff that makes
you feel wet."

   "Oh," she said, reaching between her legs.

   "C'mon," Jill said, impatiently.  "I got my legs apart.  Are you gonna
do it or what?"

   "Right now, sweetie." I saw Katie gently rubbing herself.

   Jill's knees were spread wide and little slit was open a bit, showing
just a hint of pink.  I knelt again between her legs.  I noticed as I
lowered my face to her that there was no female odor, no pheromones.  That
would come in a few years, apparently.  As I drew near, she lifted herself
up on her elbows to watch.  I winked and she smiled, then I used my thumbs
to spread her puffy labia.  Lots of pink in there.

   My tongue met her pussy; I wiggled it up and down in the folds of shiny
pink interior and her body reacted by tensing slightly.  I watched her face
as she watched me.  Katie had gotten off her chaise and was kneeling next
to us, intent on what we were doing.

   Still holding her open, I drew my face and tongue upwards to see if I
could find a clit.  Suddenly Jill's hips came up and her legs closed
tightly against my head.  BINGO!

   "Wow!", she squealed.  "What did you do there?"

   "I found your little sex button."

   "What's a sex button?"

   "Open your legs, sweetie; you've got me trapped here." She did. 
"There's a little spot that all girls have that feels really, really good
when you touch it -- even better when a guy touches it with his tongue."

   "Wow!  Cool!"

   "Could you show me mine?" Katie asked.

   "How about tomorrow, guys.  You still don't have enough base tan to stay
out very long."

   "What if we go inside?"

   "That would work."

   Mary sat up, her forearm covering her small breasts.  "I don't wanna go
inside.  I think I'll go home."

   "YOU CAN'T GO HOME!" both Katie and Jill shouted.

   "Why not?"

   "'Cause we're all together 'at the beach,' that's why," Katie told her
sternly.

   "Then we all have to go," Mary said quietly, fastening her bikini
bottoms.  Her little titties hung down as she bent over to pick up her bra.
When she straightened to put it on, her breasts were small and pointed --
small narrow cones with puffy nipples.  Not the prettiest I've seen but
still inviting -- suckable.  Now her reluctance to go naked in front of me
made sense.  She needed some major confidence support.

   "Shit!," little Jill said.  "You always ruin things."

   Jill was in a major snit now and her temper showed.  She was very
dramatic in the way she dressed herself, showing her great displeasure with
every overdone move.  Katie was stoic, rolling with it.

   "Can we all hug?" I asked when they were ready to go.  Katie and Jill
wrapped their arms around me; Mary stood back.  "C'mon, Mary," I said to
her, extending an arm.  She joined the hug briefly, not real friendly but
giving in to manners.

   "Can we come back tomorrow?" Katie asked.

   "Sure.  Any time you want."

   "How 'bout after lunch?" she added.

   "I'll be here, I said as I let them out."

   ------------------------------ To Be Continued

   -----------------------------

   Read all my stories at: /files/Authors/cyberguy

   (Copy and paste this address into the address window at the top of your
browser window.)

   Needless to say, this story belongs to me.  You can share it with
friends but son't rip it off for any kind of personal gain without my
written authorization.

   -------------------------

   I write, usually about a young girl and an older man, for my own
pleasure.  My stories usually have a kernel of an actual event in them but
they are sheer fantasy.  I will sometimes see a young girl at the market or
riding a bicycle or waiting in line with friends for a movie and my body
will literally twitch with excitement.  Not just ANY girl; some girls. 
There is no way I would ever approach one of these girls but I do fix an
image in my mind of their faces, figures, clothes and body language.  I
then dream, like a perverted Walter Mitty, about what might have happened
had we actually met.

   Sometimes true stories are better than what you can imagine.  Several
readers have emailed me to tell me their own true stories, just like this
one.  If YOU would like me to turn your true story into a peice of erotic
fiction, let me know.  I'll write it if I think I can do it justice.

   I always enjoy comments, good or bad.  Nice things encourage me to write
more.  Critical things encourage me to write better.  Please encourage me,
one way or another, by emailing me at:

   CYBERGUY20038@YAHOO.COM Thanks.