Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is an erotic story featuring adults and children.  If you don't want
to read such a thing, don't.  If it's illegal for you to read it whoever
and wherever you are, I don't really care.  Don't read it, or don't get
caught.

   This is my story.  It is made available under a Creative Commons
Attribution - Noncommercial - No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported license. 
You may copy, distribute, or transmit this work so long as authorship is
properly credited and these introductory paragraphs are included, and you
adhere to the terms set forth at
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/.

   This story is F-I-C-T-I-O-N.  No actual children or adults or anything
were involved in its production.  What part of "made up" don't you
understand?  Intelligent feedback gratefully accepted at rufusfugit at
yahoo dot com.  Stupid feedback and flames to /dev/null.

   This and other stories available at
/files/Authors/rufusfugit.

   Happy New Year everyone - may your 2009 be long, hard, and hot.  Sorry
this section is only short but I wanted to get something up for the New
Year.

   Jenny's Couch, Book II, part 2 (College Visit 2) (M+g, ped, exhib, oral,
prost) by Rufus Fugit

   Karen stumbled to a stop just inside the open door and I bumped into
her. I took just a second to enjoy the feeling of her preteen ass pressing
against my erect tool.  The heat of her burned through three layers of
cloth, and I grabbed her slim hips and pulled her gently against me.  The
child's response had been inculcated by a year of prostituting herself in a
desperate quest for ever-more sexual pleasure: she bent slightly from the
waist, widened her stance and ground her butt against me.  She was tell
enough at twelve that she only had to raise up on her toes slightly.

   An explosion of coughing from my right brought my mind back to business.
Karen gave a frustrated sigh as I stepped back to close the door behind me
and looked around the room.  It was apparently a finished attic, running
the length of the house's upper storey.  The sharply sloped ceiling was
broken by a wide dormer window, halfway open and admitting a frigid blast
of air that competed with the heat roiling from a hissing, spitting
radiator beneath it.  The flooring was cheap pine, scarred and uneven.  The
ceiling was water-stained in spots, partially covered by posters and
photographs, the latter mostly depicting college boys and girls in various
stages of inebriation.

   There was a cheap double bed at the far end of the room, what appeared
to be an unzipped sleeping bag askew on the bare mattress.  To the right of
the door where we stood, against the wall opposite the open window, four
young men crowded a sagging couch.  Four more sat facing them on beanbag
chairs and the floor with their backs to the draft.  Between them and the
couch an upturned cable spool served as a coffee table.  It was covered
with smoking paraphernalia.  The boy on the couch struggling with a
coughing fit thumped a tall acrylic bong down on the table.  As faces
turned to look at us, Stanley, who had preceded us into the room, stood off
to our left looking uncertain.  He was almost wringing his hands, no doubt
worried about the reception he would get when the hooker he had collected
money to provide turned out to be his twelve-year-old foster sister.

   I could imagine Karen's consternation as well.  She had been reassured
that she wasn't going to be required to service the entire crowded party
but this was still more guys than she was used to doing at once.  But
gathering her tequila-fueled confidence, the sixth-grader straightened up
and brushed her long blonde hair back from her heavily made-up face.  She
stepped forward and set her childish features in her best imitation of a
suggestive leer.  "Okay, who's first?  I'm hungry for sperm!" Her
confidence wavered, however, when she instantly became the focus of
everyone's attention.  The guy repacking the bong almost dropped it, and
Stanley audibly gasped.

   "Karen!" I stepped to her side.  "Manners!  Even a skanky little whore
like you should know better." My tone was gentle, amused, but I smiled to
myself as I saw the blush bloom under her makeup and creep back until her
ears burned bright red.  Her eyes dropped behind the lenses of her
eyeglasses.  I played this game with Karen whenever we were together,
encouraging her in her most wanton behavior and then casually berating her
for it.  It was more effective than blunt vituperation in keeping the
preteen emotionally insecure and dependent on me for approval.  "Sorry,
guys.  Now let's find out who your new friends are.  Stanley?"

   Stanley nervously stepped forward and named the eight young men.  I
didn't pay attention to that; rather I was watching their faces to see how
they were reacting to being confronted by a child prostitute.  I saw
uncertainty in varying degrees but also lust.  One in particular, a burly
young man wearing a down vest and tan cords, was devouring my niece with
his eyes.  When Stanley finished going around the circle I nudged Karen
forward.  "Now introduce yourself properly."

   Karen stepped forward, her knobby bare knees pressed together as her
audience admired the expanse of skin from the tops of her rabbit-fur boots
to the hem of her spandex red miniskirt.  She gripped her hands tightly
together, gaze down as she repeated the line she had said so many times
before.  "I'm Karen and I'm a whore."

   "Yes, you are, sweetie," I agreed, then I quickly enumerated the
evening's ground rules: Oral only, touching was OK but absolutely no
vaginal or anal penetration.  Karen had insisted on that because she was so
sore.  A year ago after she had turned her first trick on her own I had
granted her the right to decide what she did, when and with whom - and when
I gave my word I kept it.

   Some of the college boys looked at me curiously, wondering what my
relation was to their friend Stanley and to this obviously-underage girl,
but no one questioned us.  I wasn't that much older than them but from
their perspective I was a grownup, while the soubriquet "college men" was
for them just a courtesy title.

   As usual in these situations, everyone kind of looked around
uncertainly. No one wanted to be the first to get things going and Karen,
for all her experience - since I had deflowered her at age eleven she had
fucked literally hundreds of adults and swallowed probably quarts of semen
- was awkward and nervous with a group this large.  So it was up to me.  I
plopped down into a yellow beanbag and pulled Karen down to sit on the
floor between my thighs.  She fidgeted, finally settling cross-legged with
her hands in her lap to keep her naked little pussy covered.  Her skirt was
too short to sit on completely and she shifted uncomfortably until the
cold, rough wood warmed beneath her butt.  "Karen likes getting high," I
announced, "but she's never done bong hits before."

   That was all I needed to say.  The kid in the vest and cords grabbed the
bong and hurriedly repacked it.  He showed Karen how to fill the chamber
with smoke and then huff it all in.  She held the plastic tube awkwardly
and of course her first hit sent her into a paroxysm of coughing.  Everyone
had a good laugh at her expense.  She smiled uncertainly when she got her
breath back.  Seconds later the first rush rolled over her and the preteen
slumped back against me, bony shoulder blades digging into my chest.  It
was indeed some strong shit; her body was buzzing as her head lolled back.
I passed the bong on and gently stroked Karen's forehead, watching as her
eyes became glazed and vague behind the lenses of her glasses.

   By unspoken agreement the guys kept passing the bong back to Karen out
of sequence.  By the fourth hit she was holding the smoke in without too
much choking.  She giggled as she tried and mostly failed to blow smoke
rings up in the air.  Her eyes were bloodshot.  Time to get started.

   I reached around to partially unzip her jacket and press my right hand
inside.  She jumped then sighed as my hand slid across her warm, dry skin.
I palmed her left breast, covering it entirely, then cupping it.  She made
a small sound like "umph" as I tweaked her nipple once, then again, then
flicked my fingers steadily back and forth.  It stiffened and swelled,
Karen's eyelids fluttered closed and she began to breathe through her
mouth. "Do you like that?" I whispered.  She shivered as I nibbled at the
edge of her delicate ear.

   "Uh-huh," Karen gasped, then arched her back as I tweaked her preteen
nipple harder.  I moved my hand away from her developing breast, down
across her sternum to her belly as she continued to press her head back
against me.  I buried my nose in her hair.  My cock pressed harder against
my jeans as Karen's scent, shampoo, cheap perfume, and sweat filled my
nose. The circle of young adults watched with increasing avidity while I
tugged the zipper all the way down until I could spread her jacket open,
baring her immature torso.  Karen gasped again as the cold air hit her
skin, then her lips curved into a gentle, stoned smile at the ring of
staring, sweaty faces.

   I had both hands on her titties now, flicking her puffy nipples rapidly
as she began to writhe slowly against me.  She was making little noises of
pleasure in her throat.  "You're getting horny, aren't you?" I asked her.
"Is your babycunt heating up?"

   "Ohhh...yessss," she sighed.  Karen's early training in sex had included
repeated commands that she tell what her body was feeling no matter how
much it embarrassed her.  Her response by now was automatic even as shame
bloomed in her stomach.  "My babycunt's getting hot, all hot and
juicy...ohhh, but it's so sore."

   "Why don't you show everyone what you're talking about?" I whispered in
her ear.  When the twelve year old balked, shaking her head vaguely, I
insisted.  "Go ahead, Karen.  Show off your babycunt like the whore that
you are.  Everyone here wants to see it.  Show them your cunt, Karen -
now!" I put a little steel in my voice and Karen knew she had to obey.  Her
hands trembled as she unclasped them and slowly raised the hem of her
skirt. I almost laughed aloud at the way the boys on the couch all craned
their necks but the table blocked their view, and with her legs crossed
Karen was mostly sitting on her treasure anyway.

   Karen gasped in surprise as I hoisted her under her armpits, turned her
around, and sat her butt on the edge of the table.  In seconds it had been
cleared of the bong and smoking paraphernalia and I casually shoved her
backwards, grabbed her knees and spread them wide.  Her head thumped
against the edge of the round spool, not too hard.  Her hair swung loose to
the floor, her arms hung down and her jacket fell open, completely baring
her chest.  Her developing breasts were barely perceptible.  They quivered
with her racing heart, topped by the hard, pink knobs of her erect nipples.
They were the size of peach pits, maybe, or lychees.  The entire aureola
swelled and puffed.  Her skirt was a thin band of red around her waist and
she sighed in mingled pleasure and embarrassment as I slid my hands up her
slender thighs, over the knobs of her hipbones and brushed my fingertips
over her blond pubic tuft.

   The sixth-grader raised her head, taking in the circle of adult men
staring down at her supine, seminude body, then let it droop back over the
edge of the table, staring up at the ceiling.  The tendons on the insides
of her thighs flexed and relaxed alternately at the juncture of her bulging
pubic mound, and a fresh trickle of aromatic cream oozed from her split
labia.

   "What the...is she, sick or something?" one of the boys said over my
shoulder, and for a moment I saw at the sixth-grader's spread cunt as if
for the first time.  Her pubic hair was damp and matted, and a thin, patchy
dusting of white flakes - like dandruff only larger - clung to the curling
strands of hair and the much finer fuzz along the upper part of her vulva.
Her inner lips were also crusted with her dried secretions and a dark,
angry red underneath.  Her fat outer lips were covered with little red
bumps, some of them capped with tiny vesicles.

   And her clitoris.  I knew it wasn't a muscle, otherwise I would swear it
had grown from all the exercise it got.  Nowhere near its full erection at
the moment, it was still larger than any grown woman's I had seen in my
life, and so it looked grotesquely outsized at the peak of the
sixth-grader's slit.  It gleamed with moisture, throbbing almost
imperceptibly with the child's growing excitement.  As it swelled it bent
slightly to one side.

   "No, she's fine," I said.  "It's just, like, irritated.  Tell them about
your week, Karen."

   "Wha...?" Karen's attention was increasingly focused on the pleasure
radiating from her naked privates.  She squirmed under my gentle touch, her
bloodshot eyes wandering around the ring of faces staring down at her
exposed body.  I spanked her clitty lightly to get her attention and she
squealed.

   "Your week, honey.  Tell us everyone you fucked, starting with Monday."

   "Well, Raymond came over after school..."

   "Who's Raymond?  Is he your boyfriend?" I asked for the benefit of the
group.

   "No!" Karen seemed amused at the idea.  "He's just a boy in my class, I
mean, he's my friend, but...ohh!" She gave up trying to explain the
complexities of middle-school society to her customers.  "We did homework
then fucked until it was time for Daddy to get home.  Raymond's dick is
only little, and it doesn't squirt yet, but it stays hard forever so we did
it for, like, an hour and a half.  It was cool." She made that sexy stoned
giggle again.  "Then on Tuesdays I go to the park with Renee.  Mister Al
was there, he hadn't been for the last two times.  He's, like, a hundred
years old but he has a nice thick one.  He had a blanket and we wrapped up
in it and sat like we were watching the ducks, but really we were fucking.
He had a...a va-sec-to-my," - she stumbled a bit over the long word - "so
he doesn't have to wear a condom and I let him squirt in my babycunt.  Then
I walked around with Renee like we do, looking for guys who want to do it.
This man in a suit was watching me so I walked right past him and then I
bent down like I dropped something so he could see Mister Al's stuff kind
of running down my leg and I could tell from how his face got real red that
he wanted to do it.  We went in the boy's bathroom and he gave me fifty
dollars, which is a lot, but I'm glad he did because he wanted me to suck
him too and he had that funny skin on the end of his thing and it wasn't
clean inside and it tasted terrible.  He made me bend over and put it in my
babycunt from behind.  He did it real hard but not for long so it was okay.
Then he wanted me to drink his stuff out of the condom and I was, like,
gross, no way, so I ran out of the bathroom and Renee and I ran into the
trees.  He started to come after us but Renee threw a rock at him and so he
stopped.

   "Then I saw this boy, Thomas, I know him from church?  He was playing
basketball with, he told me his name was Peter and he was his big brother
and he was home from being in the army.  And I giggled and said Peter was
one of my favorite names, īcause I figured Thomas had told him I was a
whore already, and he had and so we went over to his van and Renee waited
outside and I fucked both of them, but not at the same time.  Peter first,
then Thomas, then Peter again but the second time I sucked Thomas too and I
was going to make that one for free īcause he's nice, but then Peter tipped
me twenty dollars anyway.

   "Then it was starting to rain and it was getting cold so we were gonna
go home but then Mister Al was still there and he's funny, if it's been
long enough so that he can get hard he likes to fuck me again while I tell
him who else I fucked so we did that, we did it in the trees with him
standing up and holding me.  But I left my panties on cause it was getting
really cold, and then Mommy almost caught me washing them when she came
home.

   "Then Raymond came over again on Wednesday and we did it and that's when
I started getting sore so we stopped fucking and I sucked him while he
licked on me but then I got kind of itchy, too, and when he had to go home
I saw my babycunt was kind of red, and it was still itchy the next day..."

   I couldn't take it any more.  It wasn't just that Karen's schedule would
have exhausted any normal adult woman, never mind a sixth-grader.  It
wasn't that she seemed shameless, chattering in her slightly stoned,
lilting voice.  I could still make her ashamed and embarrassed of her
insatiable sexual appetite.  In fact, I depended on that to keep her from
revealing her activities to anyone who might disapprove of it.  But she had
no personal privacy left and no sense that she deserved any.  She had
completely internalized what I had taught her it meant to be a whore.  That
included spreading her life open the same way she would spread her legs for
anyone that would pay.

   I leaned forward, running my hands up her skinny torso, over her
prominent ribs.  Karen gasped as I brushed my fingers over her swollen
nipples as lightly as I could.  Her recitation faltered, then trailed off
into little coos and cries as I flicked the stiff, puffy knobs first
gently, then with increasing force until her breasts were quivering and she
yelped with each impact.  "Oh!  Ow!  OH!" she cried, arching her back and
pressing her bare butt against the rough wood of the cable spool.  Her eyes
rolled around behind her glasses, taking in the eight strangers staring
down at her.  A flush of embarrassment and arousal bloomed again beneath
her stark makeup and began to spread down her neck and across her
collarbone.  Gooseflesh popped out on her body as a cold gust from the
window blew across us.

   My cock felt like steel now as I gazed at Karen's skinny legs spread
before me, and I leaned forward until I could smell the scent of her oozing
cunny and feel the heat rising off it against my lips.  I pinned her knees
wide and craned my neck, blowing on the dark, wrinkled bud of her clitoris.
It swelled further in response and another dollop of aromatic cunt cream
leaked out of her slit.  A small puddle of moisture was forming on the wood
and Karen smeared it against the pale, firm cheeks of her ass as she
writhed back and forth.

   I leaned in a bit further, careful to avoid the rash peppering the
twelve-year-old's sweaty vulva, and placed a gentle kiss on the very tip of
her shiny, pulsing pleasure button.  Karen jerked as if electrified.  Her
spicy flavor coated my tongue and shot straight to my backbrain.  Coupled
with the sight of her exposed and writhing before me, it was all I could do
not to abandon my role as her security, pull down my pants and mount the
child.

   Karen was far more experienced than me at working under these
conditions. The familiar heat, the aching need spreading from her aching
center through her pubescent body was a goad, not a distraction.  She
reached back over her head with both hands, groping until she felt the legs
of the men sitting on the couch, then fumbled upwards until her hands found
a corduroy-clad bulge.  She twisted her head and rolled her eyes until she
was staring into the astonished, lust-filled face of the burly young man I
had noted earlier.  She smiled and licked her painted lips.

   The kid didn't need any further encouragement.  He lurched off the
couch, falling to his knees and undoing his belt, clumsy in his haste. 
Then his cock was waving in the air.  He was uncircumcised, long, and thin.
His nest of dark pubic hair was extremely thick and his scrotum was very
hairy.  He leaned forward and his tool bounced off Karen's cheek, her nose,
her chin.  With each soft slap a smear of precum appeared until her makeup
was dotted with a web of shiny slime trails.  Then the sixth-grader craned
her head further to the side, opened her mouth wide, and - "Agggh!" - with
a throaty gasp, the young man slid his cock between her shiny, cherry-red
lips.

   "Mmmmm," Karen moaned, and her eyelids drifted closed as the familiar,
comforting taste filled her mouth.  The angle was awkward, but a year of
prostituting herself had made her an expert at fellatio.  She gripped the
boy's cock with one hand, keeping it steady as she moved her chin, slurping
her lips back and forth along the hot skin.  Drool leaked from the corner
of her mouth as she spun her tongue expertly around the rim of his glans.
She moaned again, then her whole body jerked as I sucked her glistening
clitoris into my mouth and trilled my tongue against it.  "MMPH!  MMPH! 
MMMAPH!" Her cries of pleasure were muffled by the cock filling her mouth
but her ass thumped against the table, straining against my hands pinning
her knees spread-eagle.  Hot juice flowed from between her labia, wetting
my beard and filling my nose with her delicious scent.  The room was
suddenly dead quiet except for slobbering and little burping sounds of air
escaping between Karen's enclosing lips.  A ring of wide eyes stared avidly
at the half-naked twelve-year-old.  I spared a glance at Stanley still
standing frozen in the corner.  A welter of expressions played across his
mobile features, lust, astonishment, and disgust fighting it out as he
watched his little sister eagerly filling her mouth with his friend's
penis.

   "Oh my god, look at the little whore sucking my cock, oh shit I'm gonna
UH!  UH!  UHHH!" The boy stiffened and, as it had been hundreds of times in
the past year, Karen's mouth filled with hot semen.  She tried to swallow
but the angle was awkward and her neck was strained.  She choked and cum
splashed out all around the flesh pole filling her mouth, running over her
cheeks and filling her nose.  Globs dripped down across one ear into her
hair.  The boy withdrew as his ejaculation weakened, painting a final
squirt across the oval lenses of her glasses.  He collapsed back against
the couch, panting.  "Fuuuuck..." he half-whispered.

   I released Karen's skinny legs and sat back, licking my lips clean of
her salty, pungent taste.  She coughed and cleared her throat, then
struggled to a sitting position.  I saw her wince slightly as her tender,
itchy vulva pressed againt the rough wood of the table, now slimed with her
own copious secretions.  Unconsciously, one hand went to her bare chest to
tug at a swollen nipple.  With her other hand she grabbed at the first
drink she could reach, a bottle of cheap, sweet red wine, and swigged it to
clear her throat.  She dragged her forearm across her mouth, smearing cum
across her chin and cheek.  Only then did she peer through her cum-coated
glasses at her audience, the boy she had just blown panting on the floor,
seven clad penises straining at her exposed bare body, her uncle licking
her sex juices off his lips and Stanley still standing in the corner
looking confused and angry.  Her semen-coated lips curved into a lewd smile
and without a word the twelve-year-old stood and walked shakily to the bed,
shedding her clothes as she went.
   To be continued...