The following is entirely a work of fiction. It was written purposely for the
entertainment of adult readers. This type of fiction should never be read by
minors. Readers of this type of fiction should never try to copy the actions
within, lest they look forward to a very long jail sentence, followed by a life
of forced poverty. 

This story contains graphic descriptions of sex between a preteen female and a
grown man. If this type of behavior offends you, read no further. If this type
of material is illegal where you live, please stop now and go away. 

Summary: After retirement from the military, Doug meets a onetime acquaintance
who talks him into working at a bordello. Once there, he meets some very
interesting characters who change his life. One of those characters is a girl
who teaches him love and trust. 

This story is a long read, but has a very satisfying ending-it is well worth
working to the end. Please stay with it.

Twenty fours of military life had been enough. I had reached my retirement
point four years ago, but for the past four years the military had given me a
cush assignment-being in charge of recreational activities on the base-
requiring only six hours of "work" a day. This was a thank you for spending
fifteen of the first twenty years in Special Forces. More times than I cared to
think about it, at the drop of a hat, I had responded to trouble spots around
the world. This had cost me several meaningful relationships, as only a special
woman tolerates a man who runs headlong into danger, time after time. When I
found out that my next assignment was training Special Forces newbees, I
decided that it was time to say goodbye. 

I put a bunch of stuff into storage and I decided to travel the country by
truck. My recently restored 1974 pickup was fitted with a camper. In the camper
I placed items I couldn't be without, such as my camera and laptop computer. In
the past few years, I had taken up photography as a hobby and I had CD's with
nature shots, and pics I had taken of cute strippers that had graced my bed. 

I had learned ten years ago how to bed cuties that shake it for a living. My
discretionary income allowed me money to gain their trust over several visits,
then into a hotel room. I had nude pics of all but one of the gals-who was too
shy to pose nude (although she did fuck). My fave was an asian who had once
been a porn star. She really enjoyed sex and the little over two years we
knocked boots was pleasurable. She had reached her financial goal and said a
bittersweet goodbye as she became a silent partner in a real estate investment
firm. The other girls since just didn't measure up, although they had earned
their fee. Still, I was leaving the military with a bittersweet empty feeling.
Nothing clears my head like a long drive and sometime on the road would clear
my head and heal my soul. 

On retirement day, I left out from the base and headed into the mountains. By
mid afternoon, I was several thousand feet above sea level and the rain cooled
thin air was refreshing. In several spots I had stopped to snap a pic of a
great view. That night, in a hotel room, I downloaded the pics to a CD. 

The next day was a fourteen hour drive with only a stop for lunch. That night
I settled into a hotel next to a country restaurant. I had an enjoyable dinner
before returning to my hotel room. After fifteen minutes, I grew stir crazy as
I pondered a strip club on the edge of town. I surrendered to temptation and
headed out to the club. I ended up spending a good part of the evening with a
California girl over a thousand miles from home. She allowed some mutual
touching and I nearly talked her into spending the night with me. Reluctance
overruled desire and she backed off of the intention. Her goodbye hug told me
that she enjoyed our time together. I would've made plans to see her again, but
the open road was calling to me. 

The third day of my journey was a mix of driving and seeing tourist spots. It
was mid day that I finally began to feel free. I had taken vacations before,
but I always knew that I was required back at the base at some point. This
time, I was free to do what I wanted and go where I wanted to go. I was
literally stopping to smell the flowers. 

On day four I was back in the mountains. The thin air and expanding vistas was
chicken soup for the soul. In mid afternoon I checked on my food and water for
an overnighter in the camper. I stocked up on supplies and mapped out a route
to a campground. 

I arrived at the campground about two hours before sunset. I had picked a spot
about a mile from the nearest human. Leaving the truck, I stood alone in the
forest and listened to the near silence. A slow breeze gently whistled through
the trees. Somewhere, a hawk called out. The gentle aroma of pine enhanced the
pure air. I read a Reader's Digest, then had dinner. After dinner, I started a
spy thriller, then turned in when I became tired. 

The fifth day started colder than I thought it would. A front had swept
through the area and it was overcast and drizzly. It was summertime, but I was
at seven thousand feet elevation. From experience, I knew forest roads can turn
to shit in just a moment. I started craving civilization and I started heading
towards the highway. 

Three hours later, I reached a diner. The hostess seated me near a corner and
gave me a menu. I decided on a lumberjack breakfast. As I put down my menu, I
was in for a shock. Seated five tables over was an acquaintance from a couple
of decades ago. A black/hispanic mix, she was an attractive gal with a
complicated life. 

We had worked together for a few months a couple of times. She had a circle of
lesbian friends. On the second go around, I had been drawn into the gossip
circle. I had become attracted to a friend of hers who contemplated
heterosexuality for all of a minute. This had caused some friction with Lela as
I messed with a possible source of pussy for her. I was glad to get away from
that nutsy circle. 

She was sitting at a table with a guy in his early twenties. His beard, long
hair,  wrongly worn military cap, and tatoos told me that he lived on the
fringe of society. Lela was talking to him, but she was glancing at me. When my
food arrived, I gladly dove in so that I had something to focus on besides her. 

I was near the end of my meal when she came over. 

"Hey stranger", she said.

I looked up and noticed that her companion had left. 

I welcomed her to sit with me. We caught up with each other. She learned that
I was now retired and and I learned that she owned a hotel. She hadn't been
able to adopt (a subject we discussed a long time ago). She poo pooed my single
status, gently scolding me for not sacrificing my career for companionship. I
didn't take her bait, but as is her style she asked me if I was curious about
the guy she was talking to. Again, I didn't take her bait.

"So, are you interested in a job ?" she asked.  

"A job ?"

"I need a bartender", she volunteered.

"I don't know how to mix drinks. I never learned, besides, I don't drink."

"You won't have to mix drinks. Basically, you just sell single beer bottles,
wine bottles, or a six pack. You might have to mix a drink now and then, but
there's a book behind the bar. Most of all, I need someone I can trust. I have
a nearly all female staff. I could use you. What do you say ?"

We discussed pay, which was just above minimum wage, but room and board was
thrown in. It sounded easy and I wrestled with my sense of wanderlust. I
thought if it didn't work out, I could always take to the road again. I
accepted her offer and agreed to arrive two days hence. 

I was surprised several times when I arrived at the hotel. First, it was a
relatively new building. Second, the hotel was tucked away at the edge of a
small town, in a heavily wooded area. You wouldn't find the hotel unless by
accident, or if you had specific instructions. Finally, the hotel was about
sixty rooms, but had a walled in parking lot and either was a secured location,
a hotel with alot of privacy, or a mixture of both.  

When I pulled in the only entrance, it was next to the hotel office. I found
out that my room and the adjacent bar were in a corner of the hotel. I parked
my truck and instantly was given a class on what I needed to do. My trainer was
clear that my workload was sporadic and mostly slow, therefore, I was able to
move into my room while I "worked".

The two things I had to do daily was turn in my till at midnight, and check it
out again in the morning. I also had to keep track of inventory so that my till
matched my daily order request. We sold a dozen types of beer and twenty types
of wine. The bar was also fully stocked and we had eight different kinds of
soft drinks. The fun, for me, was the jukebox.

In my lifetime I've seen all kinds of jukeboxes. The best I ever saw was from
a now defunct restaurant chain. Lela had bought one of those jukeboxes. There
was over two hundred CD's in the jukebox. The jukebox could be programmed to
play certain songs in a sequence. The jukebox had CD's from the most famous
bands. I could set up daily concerts, which I did.

On my second day, Lela stopped in to see how I was doing. First I had to turn
down the music so we could talk. We talked about the jukebox and her
expectations. Then I addressed the elephant in the room.

"I'm not the swiftest guy on the uptake," I admitted,  "but you're running a
bordello here, aren't you ?"

She got a coy look. "I don't know what you're talking about", she replied.

"Food and liquor deliveries come early in the morning. Clients start arriving
at ten. Maids are always on the move. Girls walk clients out in lingerie. I've
been to Europe, you know."

"And you don't have anything to worry about if you stay in here", she
countered. "If the cops come, you don't know anything. Besides, we're picky
about our clientele. It's not like we advertise on the net, or anywhere else."

"And it's why you needed a guy on the staff, someone who knows his way around
a bar fight."

"We never have a problem with our clients. In case there is trouble, I'm sure
you'll use your common sense to make the problem go away."

During my military days, there were a few times that I moonlighted, keeping me
in touch with the civilian world. This was the second time that I had an
employer that trusted me to take care of things my way. I know that trust
doesn't come easy. I knew Lela enough to know what kind of workplace she could
run. While her personal life was messy, her professional life was the opposite.
I'm not sure what kind of arrangement she had with the girls, but I knew it was
airtight. 

I thanked her for her trust, and we ended our conversation with some small
talk, then I resumed my music worship while I played on my laptop.

My normal routine was the same. About five or six times a day I set up a
platter with an ice bucket, beer or wine, and two glasses. Also, about once a
day, some guy or another, would come in with a look on his face like he alone
knew a secret. I would fill his order and pretend like I didn't know his
secret. It was all very quaint. I had been there about two weeks when an
interesting event happened. 

She walked in with that confident look that a sex worker has. I could tell she
was barely eighteen, and just barely that. She had coal black long hair, a
porcelain complexion, almond shaped eyes, a button nose, and plump full lips.
She was wearing a purple tube top and black mini skirt. She took a seat at the
bar and ordered a cherry cola. When I gave her the bottle she said "So you're
the new bartender."

"Yep", I answered, volunteering nothing.

"I'm Marie" she said, extending a tiny hand.

"Doug" I said as I shook her hand.

"So, what keeps you from going cuckoo, staying in here, I mean ?"

"I've got music", I answered.

I then went on for five minutes about the groups we had on CD and describing
their importance to rock n roll history and how much I loved that, then I
caught myself, "but that's just me."

"It's okay", she giggled, "You and my dad are the same way."

"Thanks."

"I hope you don't mind that I came in. My Friday night cancelled. I still get
paid, but now I'm bored."

"Why don't you go somewhere ?"

"No", she shook her head. "It's a hundred mile drive home. I share the room
with my sister Jen. I use it Friday and Saturday. She uses it the rest of the
week."

"So, how do you do here ?"

"Pretty well. I have a Friday night, a Saturday afternoon and a Saturday
night. Then I rest up, and make the drive home Sunday morning."

"Have you thought about going full time ?"

"No. I like keeping my week free. Besides, it's better than working a titty
bar. I know how I'll do every week, and I don't have to work all week. So, how
about you ? Why aren't you married or something ?"

"I'm retired military, recently retired. Military and marriage don't mix."

"Kids ?"

"Nope."

"Sooooo", she said in a low tone with a seductive smile, "how about a freebee ?"

"A freebee ?"   

"Yeah, do my part for the troops and all. I don't think Lela will mind. You
can lock up for a bit ?"

"Uh, yeah."

There was a buzzer on the door if I needed to lock up, and all my orders came
by phone, so I was free for a bit to go in my room. I locked the front door,
then we went to my room. Marie started undressing as she approached my bed.
After kicking off her shoes, she slid her tube top down, freeing a pert pair of
B cup breasts topped with tiny brown nipples. The tube top continued down,
pushing down her mini skirt. Eventually, a bald pubic area came into view. 

Sudden inspiration happened as I remembered my camera.

"Do you mind if I take pictures ?" I asked.

"Pictures ?"

"I'm a photography buff. I have a bunch of stuff on my hard drive, landscapes
and all."

"You don't post those on the internet ?"

"No."

"As long as you don't put my pictures on the net. I don't want naked pictures
out there, you understand ? "

"Absolutely. They're just for my private collection."

"Okay then."

I retrieved my camera from a dresser drawer. 

Marie then posed for me on the bed. I had her go through a series of poses,
some revealing and some looking like she was shy, which she wasn't. After a
couple of dozen poses, I put away the camera and I undressed.  


I looked at the naked teen girl. Dimpled brown puffy nipples topped baseball
sized firm breasts. Her pubic area was as bald as the day she was born. The
look on her face came across as an offer, and I was sure what she was offering.
I leaned in, cupping one of her breasts as I kissed her. 

She reached up, hugging me as I shared kisses with her. After a little while,
I was able to move my head to her chest where I began to suckle on one of her
breasts. Reaching down, I fingered her slit, sliding my middle finger across a
continually moistening area. Marie began breathing deep, partially panting and
moaning. Finally, I moved my head between her legs. 

Only a minute into licking her, she started arcing her back, pressing her bald
mound into my mouth. It was then that I began to work a finger into her. Her
moaning took on a high pitch. I wasn't sure how close she was to orgasm. I
retreated from between her legs, then rising, I positioned myself beween her
legs. I lined up my groin with hers. Maneuvering my dick, I found her opening. 

For a pro in bed, she was actually quite tight. Pushing, and feeling her tiny
opening painfully compressing the head of my dick, I  pushed until the head
popped into her. She let out a slight yelp as I entered her. 

I looked and saw her wincing.  I began working my hips. Marie was panting and
moaning. After a little while, she relaxed enough that we established a rhythm.
Our bodies became hot and sweaty as we moved in a journey to bliss. I felt my
cum rising. I shot several spurts in her and nearly collapsed on top of her. My
dick deflated enough to be pushed out of her. I rolled to my right and laid
next to her. Marie reached out and took my hand. 

"Shit Doug", she gushed, "that was fabulous. Where did you learn that ? "

"The Phillipines."

"The Phillipines ? "

"The girls there really like sex. They teach their guys what they like." In a
voice mocking one of the Phillipino hookers I said "Hey Joe, tonight we do long
time. No quicky slam slam."

Marie giggled at the impersonation, "Really ?" she asked.

"Really. It's we call them L.B.F.M.'s."

"L.B.F.M.'s ?"

"Little brown fucking machines. It's their job, it's their passion. They're
experts."

"I'm going to have to think about that, um, you wouldn't mind if I spend the
night ?"

"Spend the night ?" I asked.

"Yeah, we can do it again, besides, my regulars spend the night. If I go up to
my room and I'll hear the other girls doing it, and I'll feel left out."

I kissed her. "Sounds like a plan", I answered. 

Marie didn't have another cancellation, but two weeks later she came up early
on a Thursday night. We spent the night together and had a great time. 

Besides Marie, I added another addition to my routine. I was getting Tuesdays
off. There was a medium sized town about fifty miles from the hotel. I would
drive into town, see a movie, browse a bookstore, and eat at a buffet
restaurant (the menu at the hotel was limited). 

It was at two months in that it happened. 

On the way to a movie, I pulled into one of those large gas stations found
alongside major highways. The car that caught my attention was a twenty year
old Triumph. As a car afficianado I admired well built cars, and the Triumph
never received the respect it deserved. 

There was a woman and young girl in between the Triumph and gas pump. Because
their backs were to the car, they didn't see the newer Buick pull up alongside
their Triumph. The driver of the Buick opened his door, and then the passenger
side door of the Triumph. He reached in the Triumph and took a purse, then
jumped back in his car. The girl caught the motion out of the corner of her eye
and yelled to her mother. As the two females looked on in disbelief, the thief
gunned his Buick and headed for the exit I was in. 

I moved my truck to block him. He was moving too fast to avoid my truck. His
left front fender smacked into my bumper. We both bailed out of our vehicles.
He got about ten feet when I tackled him. He tried to fight, but I pinned him
face first to the concrete.

The Police arrived about two minutes later. As they untangled the situation I
realized that I recognized the woman that had her purse stolen-she worked at
Lela's hotel. The cop taking the report noticed that our addresses were the
same. We truthfully told him that we didn't know each other and this was a
chance meeting. I did, officially, meet the woman and girl later. 

Ilya and Larissa came to the hotel bar to meet me, and thank me. Ilya is a
long haired blonde with a nice figure. Larissa is a twelve year old, doe eyed,
long haired, brunette. Larissa immediately impressed me with her sweetness.
Unlike her mother, Larissa speaks English fluently. I found out that Ilya
worked her schedule around Larissa's school schedule. They had been in town to
buy clothes for Larissa. They were grateful for my intervention and invited me
up for dinner in their suite. 

When I went up a couple of hours later, I found that Ilya had a large suite in
a corner of the hotel. Ilya and Larissa had living quarters in much of the
suite, but an extra room was where Ilya entertained clients. By using sliding
walls, Ilya could keep her private and professional life seperate. 

During dinner, I found out that Ilya had been a mail order bride. Larissa had
been a product of that union. Two years after Larissa was born, the marriage
fell apart. He had a good lawyer, and Ilya only ended up with three hundred a
month in child support. A couple of failed jobs and a stint in a strip joint
led Ilya to the hotel. Larissa seemed well adjusted to the situation, but that
wasn't all I sensed.

During dinner, Larissa seemed more than impressed with me. She definitely was
crushing on me. Her interest was kindling something in me. All my life, I've
been interested in petite females. I had fought the urge to be a pedophile,
although one night in the Phillipines, I had bedded a fifteen year old hooker.
We were both nervous and that had ruined the situation. I had looked at Lolita
magazines in Tokyo, but fear of prison made me leave the magazines in country.
Seeing Larissa adoring me made me wonder about exploring a relationship with
the preteen (she had just turned twelve). 

I wondered if now was the time to explore the side of myself that I had kept
suppressed all these years. I sensed, that like other preteens, Larissa was
trusting. Of course, that might have been just the side of herself that she was
now showing. A child, whose mother was a sex worker, must have developed some
kind of emotional armor. How many of Ilsa's dates had Larissa met ? How many of
those dates had tried to use Ilsa to get to Larissa ? I looked into those
almond shaped brown eyes and I wondered.

Larissa was just beginning to develop. Full A cup size breasts were pushing
out from her chest. She had already developed a nice pooper. Her face was
almost doll like with oversize eyes, a sculpted nose, and lips that were
neither too large or too small. At five two, she was almost as tall as her
mother. 

During dinner, I kept my distance. I know that mothers have a sense to keep
their children away from dangers and the last thing I wanted was to be thought
of as a predator.   

After dinner, I thanked the duo for the meal. I then headed for the door.
Larissa called out to me. She ran over and gave me a hug. It was the first hug
that I'd had in months. This wasn't a stripper thanking me kind of hug, but a
true display of affection. I let the hug go on for ten seconds then said my
goodbyes and left. 

The next afternoon, Ilsa and Larissa were strolling past the bar. They looked
in the window and waved. I saw Larissa ask Ilsa something. Larissa then ran in
the bar and gave me a hug. We made small talk for about thirty seconds, then
she left to rejoin her mom. 

The next evening, a Thursday, Ilsa and Larissa delivered my evening meal to
the bar. Like Tuesday, we had dinner together. I was beginning to feel as if a
family had adopted me. It was then that fate stepped in. Ilsa confessed that
she had clients on Thursday and Saturday evenings. Instead of Larissa being
alone in a walled off area, could I be her company ?

Of course my heart started doing hand springs. I hoped that my emotions
wouldn't betray themselves. I agreed to the arrangement. Larissa thanked me by
jumping up and hugging me. Soon after, Ilsa left to prepare for her date.
Larissa stayed behind and I suddenly wondered what I had to entertain a twelve
year old girl. 

The hotel did have about sixty TV channels. I also have about two hundred
DVD's. I asked Larissa what she was interested in. She agreed to peruse my DVD
collection. She started asking questions when looking at my collection. I do
have a number of European movies. This was my chance to educate a date about
the difference between euromovies and the schlock Hollywood usually marches
out. I ended up talking her into watching "Memory of a Killer" as it's a good
movie to watch to make the transition into a genre that has more depth than
what most Americans are used to. 

Larissa was hooked from the get go. The shock value of the first two minutes
sucked her in. She then watched, mesmerized, as the plot unfolded. Near the
end, she was shaken at the death of the anti hero. She did cheer at the ending
as the heroes triumphed. 

As I popped the movie out of the DVD player, Larissa started raving about the
movie. She then started running down the things that she liked. Her revelry was
cut short by her mother calling. Ilsa's date had left and it was time for
Larissa to go upstairs. For a moment, Larissa was bothered by her mother's
request, then she changed gears, emotionally. She thanked me for the evening
and hugged me. She then did something that really caught me by surprise-she
kissed me. Actually, the kiss was only on the corner of my lips, but it felt
good.  She told me that she was looking forward to Saturday and left. 

The next morning, I was still on a pheromone high thinking about Larissa. My
buzz was nearly killed by a visit from Lela. Lela had heard through the
grapevine about my heroics earlier in the week. She was upset that I didn't
tell her about it. I explained that it wasn't a big deal and there was enough
witnesses (and most likely-video) that our involvement in the event ended the
moment our statements were taken.  There was nothing we said or did that would
draw attention to the hotel. The cop taking the report was satisfied that Ilsa
and I didn't know each other. Lela was cautiously satisfied in my explanation,
although she advised me to lay off of the heroics. 

Saturday afternoon, Larissa dropped by after playing out by the pool. She was
in a skin tight red bikini and looked absolutely delicious. My mind started
doing flips as I contemplated the nipples that pressed against the fabric of
her top. I kept my cool as she inquired about the evening's activities. I had
already thought about movie selection. I told her I was in the mood for
something light and suggested Major Payne. To my surprise, she hadn't seen the
movie. That was a relief. She also asked if we could have pizza. I told her I
would try. She was thrilled at that and left happy. I called the front office
and asked if pizza was possible. Margie told me she would have pizza delivered,
but it would be charged to my account (deducted from my paycheck).

That evening we munched on pizza and laughed at the movie. After the movie she
took notice of the jukebox. Playing educator again, I started instructing
Larissa on rock n roll. I told her about my favorite album and started playing
it. The first song was an introspective tale about the relationship between a
girl and a radio D.J. who plays songs for her. The next two songs have an
upbeat rhythm that is easy to dance to. Larissa wanted to dance and we danced,
hopping about like a pair of teenyboppers. Near the end of the third song, I
noticed we were being watched through the window. A customer then came in,
congratulating us on our technique. The compliment harshed Larissa's mood. The
man ordered a drink and a bottle. I filled his order and he left, but not
before winking at Larissa. 

A couple of songs later, Larissa had put the incident behind her. We were
dancing again when the phone rang. It was time for Larissa to leave.  Like two
nights earlier, she gave me a hug. A kiss also followed. This kiss landed full
on the lips. She also caressed my cheek, then ran from the room.        

I didn't see Larissa over the next few days. On Tuesday, she caught me just as
I was about to head out. There was the perfunctory "Where ya goin ?" question.
When I told her, she almost jumped for joy, wanting to go along. I made it
clear that she needed her mother's permission. She made me promise to wait
while she ran upstairs to get Ilsa's permission. When she ran upstairs, I was
struck by a thought that saddened me. Here's this kid, all of twelve years of
age, living with a bunch of adults. In a normal neighborhood, she would be
riding a bike, skinning her knee, climbing a tree, and discovering nature up
close. I started thinking of ways to give her a day a kid would like.

 When we got to the city, I first took her to a firing range. I rented a .22
rifle for her. She had never handled a weapon before. I gave her a class, then
watched and encouraged her when she started firing. I then started popping off
with my .38 revolver. When she had gone through her fifty rounds, I let her
shoot off a few rounds with my gun.

Next, I took her ice skating. We arrived fifteen minutes before the next
session. We watched the skaters for a few minutes, then had time to pay, rent
skates, and put the skates on. I'm not at home on the ice. She hadn't been on
the ice before, but she took to it rather quickly. I envied her ability to do
well so quickly. Because I was sore, I talked her into quitting early. Then, we
had a late lunch at a nice eatery next to the rink. 

Her face was alit with happiness. She was having a great day. Her happiness
bled over to me. I was feeling down when we lit out, but she had lifted my
spirit. 

From the eatery, we went to a movie. It was a kid's movie. She enjoyed it a
lot more than I had, but I loved hearing her laugh. After the movie, we went
home. She went upstairs to her mom, but I still felt the need to go out. Even
though I was in a building filled with pussy for rent, I needed to be away from
the place I worked. I headed out to a strip joint. 

I ended up splitting the evening between two strippers. The first was a thirty
year old single mother. She was a good sounding board as I pondered Larissa.
She told me how she worked her kids into her life. The second stripper told me
that she was a college student, but it was obvious to me that she was a
professional. We ended up having sex in the VIP room, but it was just sex, and
nothing spectacular. 

I was looking forward to seeing Larissa when she came over on Thursday. She
needed to work on a school project. I lent her my laptop and she spent an hour
and a half flying around the computer doing a lot all at the same time. I don't
know what they teach kids nowadays in computer class, but she really seemed to
know what she was doing. It was while my eyes were off of her that it happened.

When I had stored my nude pics of Marie, I had left the file on my desktop. I
didn't even think of securing the file, I just left it labeled "Marie nude" not
thinking that anyone would have access to my laptop. Larissa saw the file and
opened it. Her reaction completely caught me off guard. 

"These pictures are really great" she observed. 

I walked over and saw the nude pics. I felt panic, but I fought the urge to
grab the laptop away from her.

"You shouldn't be looking at that", I told her.

"Why not ?" She asked, "she's a girl, I'm a girl. I could pose for you."

"She's eighteen", I countered, "and you're not. I could go to prison for a
very long time for taking naked pictures of a twelve year old girl."

"That law sucks."

"When I was a kid", I explained, "that kind of thing was legal. But kids as
young as four and five had things done to them. It wasn't right. The law was
changed so that that kind of thing was only for adults. It was arbitrary.
Posing nude and having sex should only be done among people who really care for
each other. It's like sexting. If you take nude pictures of yourself and send
it to some boy, how do you know it won't end up on the internet ? I took
pictures of Marie. It was an accident that you saw them. I won't put those
pictures on the net. She trusts me and deserves my respect."

"So, do you respect me ?" she asked.

"Absolutely."

"And trust me ?"

"Yes."

"So, let me pose for you."

"Here's the thing. If someone else sees Marie's pictures, no one will get in
trouble. But if you get in an argument with your mom, it could slip out that
you posed. I could end up in prison for fifty years. I would die in prison. If
your mom says it's okay, and she's there, we could do that, okay ?"

"Okay" she said in a tone that said she was agreeing with me, but not really
agreeing. 

"Come here" I said with open arms. 

I gave her an affectionate hug. "You're very special to me" I told her. 

She looked up and we kissed. She stared into my eyes for a few seconds and
kissed me again. The phone rang. We let it go three rings before I let her pick
up. It was her mom. It was time for her to go upstairs. We kissed again and
said an affectionate good night. 

The next afternoon, Ilsa came by with Larissa. Blood ran cold in my veins. She
explained that Larissa asked to pose nude. I reiterated that only if Ilsa was
there. Ilsa was fine with that and suggested the next morning, as the light
came through her windows quite well.    

The next morning, I was at Ilsa's place with my camera. Larissa was wearing a
robe, and nothing else. My dick sprang to attention and my heart nearly leaped
out of my chest when she opened her robe. Large light tan nipples topped tiny
white mounds. Her pubic area looked bare, but the robe opened only a moment. I
had her close the robe and took her to her room. We went through her closet and
decided on an outfit for her. I waited while Ilsa helped her dress. Ten minutes
later, she came out in an overall outfit.

It was one of those overalls with short legs, the cuffs at upper thigh. She
was wearing a pink button down shirt. Her outfit was completed by pink socks
and white sneakers. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. 

I had her start out on the couch. I had her take off the sneakers and socks,
snapping a picture at each stage. She then stood and unsnapped the overalls.
The overalls fell to the floor, leaving her only in the blouse and panties. As
she began to unbutton the blouse, my heart started fluttering and dive bombers
appeared in my stomach-making bombing runs. 

As the blouse slid off of her shoulders and her beautiful chest came into view
my throat went dry and I made an audible gasp. I then had her turn and bare her
beautiful ass. After I snapped the picture, I had her turn towards me again. I
snapped several pictures as she slowly slid the waistband down. After her pubic
area came into view, I took one picture with her panties at mid thigh. Then,
one more with her panties off and dangling from a finger. 

Inspiration struck and I asked Ilsa to undress. If this all blew up on me, at
least I wouldn't go down alone. Once Ilsa was nude, I had her pose on the couch
with Larissa. I took half a dozen shots with mother and daughter. If some
prosecutor was going to nail me on child porn charges, I would have absolute
proof that her mother was present and consented. 

We then ended the photo shoot. I took the camera downstairs to download the
pics into my laptop. This time, I took care to place the file so that it
couldn't be found without a deliberate search. Just as I finished doing that,
Larissa came downstairs to see the pictures. She was delighted with the
pictures. She gazed at them a bit, then remembered that she had a scout
function to go to. 

It was late evening when she returned. She came directly to the bar. With a
naughty look, she locked the door. 

"What's up ?" I asked.

"Let's go to your room ?"

"Why ?"

"You'll see."

When we got to my room, she had me sit down on the bed. She then turned to me
and motioned to the zipper on the back of her Girl Scout dress.

"What's this ?" I asked.

She turned back towards me.

"I like the way you look when I'm naked." 

"You do ?" I teased. 

"It's like how you look when you saw me in my bikini."

"And, how's that ?"

"You think I'm sexy, don't you ?"

"Yes."

"Unzip me then."

She turned around again. I went ahead and unzipped her dress. As it fell to
the floor, and she stood there only in panties, she turned towards me.

"If we're going to do what we're___"

She cut me off with "I talked to my mom after you left. It's okay. We can do
this."

She took my hands and placed them on her waist. I placed my index fingers in
the waistband of her panties. I slid them down, past her hips, past her thighs
and knees. Her panties fell to the floor. She stepped out of the panties. I
turned her and gently laid her on the bed. I quickly undressed and laid next to
her. I ran my hand through her hair. 

"You know I love you", I told her. 

"I love you too Doug."

"Adults don't share what they do in the bedroom."

"I won't get you in trouble, I promise." 

I kissed her. She reached up and started carressing my head as we made out. I
started caressing her chest, feeling her tiny boobs. A few minutes later, I
started kissing her neck, then moved down to her chest. I spent several minutes
on each nipple. She started breathing deep and panting like a little girl.

I moved between her legs. Closeup, I could see some peachfuzz was starting
there. I closed my mouth over her tiny slit and worked her slit with my tongue.
She tensed, clawed at the sheets, and moaned. She started arcing her back. I
prepared to mount her. 

I placed my dick at her tiny opening. I started working the head of my dick
in. It took some effort, but I finally got the head. She gasped and pretended
it didn't hurt. I gave her several minutes to get used to me, then I pushed in
her an inch. She tried to suppress an "Ow". She began to worry I was going to
quit, so she reached up and started caressing my arms. Acouple of minutes later
I pushed another inch in.

Her tight little pussy was squeezing my dick like an iron fist. It hurt, but I
was deeply aroused. I started working the little bit I had in. She was panting
and moaning. I felt her relax a bit. I was able to get more in her. Finally, I
was able to go balls deep. 

I paused acouple of times to kiss her and to prolong our love making. Finally,
I reached the point of no return. I increased the frequency of my strokes.
Finally, I pushed all the way in and pumped my love juice in her. The pulsing
caught her by surprise and she gasped as I tried not to collapse entirely on
her. 

A moment later, I softened and popped out of her. I felt our fluids gush out
of her. We looked in each other's eyes. We laughed, then kissed. 

"It will get better", I promised, "it takes awhile for lovers to get used to
each other."

She answered with a kiss and a caress. 

Epilogue: Larissa became a daily part of my life. Her mother, among others,
were aware that we were lovers. I wised up and started using condoms to keep
from complicating our lives. The hotel job lasted another year. On her days
off, Marie's older sister, Jen, got caught with a large amount of cocaine.

She cut a deal with the cops. She threw Lela and her two assistants under the
bus. Three of the fifty girls were charged with various offenses. Luckily, it
was my day off. Larissa and I were fifty miles away. I did some tap dancing to
avoid alcohol charges, telling the cops that I just did various tasks and heavy
lifting for Lela. Lela could've thrown me under the bus, but she didn't. 

After a short stint in a real hotel, Ilsa, Larissa, and I moved into a house
that I bought. Soon after, Ilsa became involved with a sugar daddy while she
took classes at a community college. After a year, she landed an administrative
job. Then, she married her sugar daddy.

Larissa and I married right after her sixteenth birthday. Her mother gave her
away at the wedding and a friend from school served as her matron of honor. The
wedding party was small, only six people, but our reception was a party
attended by family and some of the former hotel residents. A large time was had
by all.

After high school, Larissa plans on a vocational school-something medical.  

The End.

If you like my story, check out my website at:
/~dude/PTandTeen.html