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   George's Daughter (Mf14)

   My friend George has a 14 year-old daughter who I just can't keep my
eyes off.  I used to go visit George because I enjoyed his conversation but
now I think I'm more interested in the friendly hug I get from Andrea when
she sees me.  Maybe she hugs all George's friends.  On the other hand, the
way she presses those little boobies of hers into me must mean something
special.

   I think it's special.  She comes over to the house some days now that
school is out for the summer and we watch TV or just sit and talk.  She
could sit across the room but she chooses to sit next to me.  Close to me.
Is she so naive at 14 that she doesn't know what she's doing to me?  She's
less than half my age and at that transition from girl to woman -- nice
little hips, long legs, pretty brown hair and a cute face.

   I've been conflicted lately whether I should let her see the erection in
my pants when she touches her arm to mine while we watch TV.  So far, I've
managed to readjust myself quietly while seeming to stretch or when I get
up to bring sodas.  But I'm having to walk in a sort of crouch to keep it
from sticking out and making a tent in my pants.  Sometimes I just take a
long time getting the drinks, waiting for it to subside.  But it returns as
soon as she slides up against me again.

   Making a move on such a sweet young thing is problematic.  I'm sure you
know about that.  If I move too fast or mistake her seeming interest as
something more than just being friendly, I'll scare her.  There are plenty
of stories about girls being touched by an ice-cream man or a pool cleaner.
They tell their terrified stories to someone and the pool cleaner ends up
in big trouble.  It's a problem for me and she becomes more bold with every
visit

   Her dad won't let her wear makeup yet, which is just as well.  Her sweet
young face doesn't need makeup; it would ruin the freshness that just
glows. Secondly, makeup would make her look older and hard, like one of
those slick models who look painted.  Besides, I really like young girls
and I'd like to find a way to be more than a guy she watches TV with.

   I saw her in church with her dad on Sunday and she asked if maybe we
could play cards sometime.  I said, "Sure," wanting to keep the opportunity
open.  She asked what games I like to play.  Geez, her dad was standing
nearby.  I couldn't tell her that strip poker would suit me just fine, so I
said "Crazy-Eights." My gawd, I was gonna get a hard-on right there in
front of the church, she's so pretty.  Then she called me two nights ago to
ask again and we made a date, if you can call it that, for tonight, after
dinner.

   I haven't slept since she called.  Various scenarios keep running
through my head.  In one, she wants to play cards on the living room
carpet. Seems strange but why not?  Is she wearing a bra?  I think I can
see dark little nipples through the fabric.  Ohmigod!  Instant erection.

   In one reverie, we take our shoes off and sit indian-style, legs
crossed, facing each othe.  As she leans forward to shuffle the cards, the
front of her blouse sags open.  I can see her boobs clearly.  There is NO
BRA!  Oh, wow.  Every time she leans down my eyes become glued to the sight
of those cute little breasts hiding from me there.  Gawd, how I'd like to
touch them, caress them, taste them.

   I imagine that we're back on the sofa and her blouse is off.  They're
not big but they're beautiful.  Andi seems a little embarassed to be
sitting there bare from the waist up but she makes no effort to cover
herself.

   "You're beautiful, Andi."

   "My boobs are too small."

   "Not at all," I say.  "Look at how they just fit into my hand." I cover
one with with my hand, her nipple touching the center of my palm.  I move
my hand in slow circles, just barely touching her nipple.  It hardens to my
touch and Andi sighs softly.

   "That feels good," she whispers.

   I draw my fingers and thumb together, encircling her little breast,
closing to meet at the nipple.  Andrea shudders.

   "Oooh.  That gives me the shivers," she says, giggling.

   "Let me help that," I tell her as I lean forward.  She watches my head
move toward her chest.  When I place my mouth over one breast Andi grasps
my head, clutching hair in both hands, and pulls me tightly against her.  I
can get most of her beautiful breast into my mouth.  I suck gently on it
and Andi moans.  I rub my tongue against the nipple and Andi moans, "Oh,
yes," pulling my hair and my face hard against her.

   Then, in my mind, we're suddenly back on the floor again and Andi is
dealing the cards.  I'm watching her nice boobs moving inside her blouse as
she deals.  Does she know I'm watching?  Then I notice that her skirt has
ridden up and I see white panties stretched tightly across her pussy.  The
outline of her pussy is apparent underneath.

   I move around a bit, readjusting my position and quietly moving my
erection so it's more comfortable, trapped as it is inside my pants.  I'm
sure she notices because she shifts, spreading her legs even more and
giving me an even better view.

   After we have played several hands Andi asks to use the bathroom.  When
she returns and sits again, I can see -- holy shit!  -- I can see bare
pussy.  No mistaking now.  This is all on purpose.  This sweet, young,
nasty girl wants me.

   I can't take my eyes off her pussy, the petals beginning to open and
show a little pink as she becomes excited.  My imagination starts running
in high gear.

   "What say we change the game," I imagine myself saying.  "Let's play
strip poker."

   "I don't know how to play poker."

   "It's easy," my imaginary voice tells her.  "We deal five cards each and
look at them.  Then we can discard as many as four and draw replacements
from the deck, trying to get two or three or four of the same number or
five cards in a row, called a 'straight' or all the same suit, called a
'flush.' The best hand wins and the loser has to take off an article of
clothing."

   "Oh, wow." She hesitated for a few seconds, thinking.  "Ok.  But I'll
probably lose."

   "That's the whole idea," I thought to myself.  I dealt the cards.  My
hand was nothing but trash.  No pairs, no way to make a straight -- nada!
Andi looked at her hand and moved some cards around.

   "How many cards do you want?" I asked.

   "Just a minute." She shuffles the cards in her hand.  "I want three,"
she said, putting three cards down on the floor.  Her blouse gaps open
again.  Gawd, I've gotta win some hands quickly so I can see those nice
little boobs out in the open, I think to myself.  I deal her three cards.
What to do about my own hand?  I keep a King and draw four.  Bingo!  A pair
of sevens!

   "Ok, whatcha got," I ask.  She lays down two pair, threes and tens. 
Damn!  She beat me.  This isn't what I had in mind.  I remove a sock.

   "Hey, this IS easy," she giggles.  "I won so I deal."

   That's fine with me.  I'll get to watch both her pussy and her boobs. 
She shuffles quickly and deals again.  I get a pair of queens and take
three cards.  Nothing; still a pair of queens.  She takes three.

   "Yay!  she yells, "I got a pair of nines!"

   "Not good enough, Missy.  I have a pair of queens."

   "Oh.  Maybe this isn't so easy.  Oh, well.  So, what do I take off?  I'm
not wearing any shoes."

   "Your choice.  Blouse or skirt?"

   "Ummm...blouse," she says as she unbuttons it and tosses it aside.

   "Very nice," I say.

   "What?  Oh....these?" she says, looking down at her two perky cones, out
in the open for the first time -- at least for me.  "They're not very big
yet."

   "They're perfect!  A nice handful or mouthful."

   "Oh, Hank." She blushes bright pink but I notice that her nipples are
now standing out like hard little pencil erasers, pink and rubbery.  "Ok.
Another hand." She shuffles and deals, looking intently at her cards.  "Can
I throw away all five?"

   "No, you have to save at least one card."

   "Darn.  So I guess I'll take four," she says as she lays the discards on
the floor and deals herself four more.  "How many for you?"

   I have a pair of twos, which I save.  "Three." She deals me another two
and some garbage.  "Okay, Missy.  Showtime.  Show me what you got."

   "I've got nothin'." She lays down a five-card assortment.  Nothing.  "I
guess I lose again."

   "Ok, sweetie.  Off with the skirt 'cause that's all you got left.  I see
you're not wearing any panties." She blushed.  Why, I don't know because
she's been flashing me with that sweet pussy of her for ten minutes now.

   "Ok.  You win.  What happens now?"

   "We keep playing and the winner can ask the loser to do anything he
wants."

   "Ok.  But if I win?"

   "Then I take off clothing until I'm naked, too.  When I'm naked, I have
to do anything you ask if I lose again."

   "Ok.  Kewl.  Let's go." She deals the cards and I win again.  "What do I
have to do?" she asks.

   "Kiss me."

   "Ok.  I can do that." She leans forward and I lean to meet her.  Our
lips meet softly and hold, barely touching, for maybe ten seconds.  It's a
girl kiss, not a woman kiss.  Maybe it's just the awkward position or maybe
I'll get to teach her how to really kiss a guy.

   She wins four hands in a row and suddenly I'm naked, too.  I step out of
my shorts and her eyes get big as my hard cock pops into view.  I'd give
plenty to know what was going through her head.  I'm just average size, I
think, but a guy's erection looks formidable to a young girl.  When I sit,
it points straight up and moves involuntarily from time to time.

   "That's pretty big," she says.

   "Not really.  Just average, but it'll do the job."

   She blushes again.  I notice her pussy beginning to glisten with
moisture.  "This is fun," she says gleefully as she deals the cards.  I get
four clubs and draw one -- another club.  She draws two.  "Ok.  I win
again," she says, laying down three Aces.

   "Not so fast, my sweet.  I have a flush."

   "What's a flush?"

   "all five cards in the same suit."

   "And that beats three Aces?"

   "Sure does."

   "Bummer.  I wanted to win.  So...what do I have to do?"

   "Well, losing is gonna get more expensive now.  I want you to kiss me --
down there," I say, pointing to my cock.

   "Oh.......Ok.  I guess so." Andi leans forward again but can't get low
enough, so she gets on her hands and knees and crawls forward, watching my
throbbing cock.  She lowers her head and puts a quick kiss on the tip.

   "Not like that.  A real kiss!"

   She looks at me, looks at my cock, thinking.  "Oh..ok." She lowers her
head again, takes the head into her mouth and sucks.  "How's that?"

   "Much better."

   I win the next hand.  "What do I do now?" she asks.

   "You let me kiss you down there."

   "Yeah.  I'd like that," she giggles.  She uncrosses her legs and spreads
her feet wide apart, her pussy looking to me like a pink bulls-eye between
her legs, a little dusting of fine, dark hair crowning it.  I crawl forward
and lie on my stomach between her legs, inhaling her intoxicating sexual
scent -- sweet, musky and delicious.  Mmmmm.  I creep forward, watching the
glistening pink folds approaching, until my nose touches.  I wish I could
bottle her scent; I'd be a millionaire in a month!  I extend my tongue and
lick upwards through the wet furrow.

   "Oooh!"

   "Sorry."

   "No, it feels good.  Don't stop."

   I do it again, my tongue sliding from the bottom of her crack to the
top, where it brushes her little clit.

   "Oooh," she says again and her legs close on my head.

   "Am I doing something wrong?" I ask.

   "No, no.  You're doing great.  It's just that I'm so sensitive down
there.  It kinda tickles and makes me jump when your tongue touches me
there.  But I like it."

   I continued to lick her, my nose pressed against the sparse patch of
downy brown hair about her pussy, my tongue travelling the entire length of
that warm, wet furrow.  Each time, as I reached the top and felt her hard
little nubbing against my tongue, I would press it to and fro and Andrea
would lift her hips to press her snatch firmly against my mouth.  She began
to whimper and moan as the sensations of tongue on pussy lifted her
excitement higher and higher.  I took her clit between my lips and tugged
it gently.  Then I sucked it into my mouth while flicking it with the tip
of my tongue.

   "Ohmigod!" she gasped.  "Ohmigod," each time my tongue touched it. 
Then, suddenly, her thighs clamped tightly against my head, her hands
grabbed handsful of my hair and she uttered a low, moaning, "Unnngghhhh."
Then she collapsed.

   I held steady for several seconds while her orgasm washed over her body
and subsided.  She lay like a rag doll, completely inert and relaxed.  Only
her rapid shallow breathing belied the fact that she was awake.

   "That was soooooo good," she whispered finally.

   "Glad you liked it," I smiled and said.

   "I've had a boy lick me there once before but he didn't do it anywhere
near as good."

   "Never send a boy to do a man's job."

   "Hehe.  I guess not."

   The phone rings and I pop out of my daydream.  It all seemed so real but
if it had been my face would be all wet with her juices and her scent would
permeate the space around me.  "Damn," I thought.  Who is that interrupting
such a great scene?

   "Hello," I say into the phone.

   "Umm...Hi, Hank, this is Andrea."

   "Hi.  Yes, I recognize your voice."

   "I was thinking...  umm...  maybe could I come over and we could play
cards or something?"

   Holy shit!  Just like in my imagination.  Go for it!  "Of course,
sweetheart.  You can come over any time you want.  I'm always happy to see
you." Then I thought to myself, "You just have no idea HOW happy."

   -------------- Read all my stories at:
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   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.

   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.