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Subject: {ASSM} Story
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Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2016 04:10:01 -0400
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Author: Pseudonyme

MG, 7-8, cons

Swear!

What follows has been written in two times. The second time a few years
after the fact, not changing anything to the original but adding comments
and reflections that were pretty much impossible to make in the heat of
the moment. I thought it would be more interesting to merge the two
entries seamlessly as it creates a more complex picture of the whole. Who
knows, perhaps this is what a subconscious part of my mind was actually
thinking at the time.

I have to write this down so I have a way to remember. It happened so
suddenly and in the midst of the unfolding, I didn't even think about
taking pictures. Even with my phone. The idea didn't even cross my mind.
So now that she is gone and that I still have her scent on my skin and the
feeling of her body against mine, and all the rest, I need to somehow
record at least some of these few hours we spent together.

R is the oldest of four children, she is seven and a half years-old and
her youngest sibling is a girl of about three. She also has a nearly two
years younger sister and a brother in between. Clearly, her parents
reproduced like rabbits and, looking back, I don't think I had a single
memory of her mother not being pregnant.

I'm not sure who in the couple wanted to have so many children so fast but
R's father was a religious man, the kind that sends his children to
catholic schools even if it costs an arm and a leg, or prays each time
he's about to ingest food. I never was very close to the family, so I
can't say. R's mother was a nurse and more educated than her husband, who
was working for the local prison, until one evening when he got plastered
and eventually engaged in a car chase with the police. That landed him in
jail, on the receiving end, for a few months.

When he came back, his steady, good paying job with the prison was gone at
least for a few years and the family thereby came to rest on R's mother's
income. I could tell she was silently very angry at him for basically
having messed up their little story and I felt that she would never really
forgive him. Women do not forgive that sort of things, which they take as
a complete betrayal, even if this is not entirely conscious. Which makes
it worse.

The first time I saw R, she was about six and I immediately was drawn to
her big green eyes. As all little girls, it took her a mere few seconds to
know that I was looking at her with interest but she also drank that up
with so much glee that I felt this was the first time a man had ever
looked at her this way. I quickly realized that this was the case since
her father treated her, and all the other siblings, like pets. They needed
to be fed, be proper, obey his commands and leave him alone until he
decided to teach them something, mostly reproducing his own unhappy
childhood with an alcoholic, gun-worshipping, authoritarian and
occasionally violent and demeaning father.

R's father seemed even more distant with girls, moving away from their
attempts at being affectionate as if they were carrying some sort of
disease. The most painful example I witnessed took place one day when R's
sister was trying to show me that her Dad was liking her the way she knew
I liked her sister and her. He let her approach for a short while but
slammed her with a "get off me" that left no appeal. She did what she
could to preserve her dignity that had been crushed, more severely than it
would have been if she hadn't tried.

I never saw R trying anything of the sort. Maybe she had been similarly
humiliated, or worse, in the past. She seemed completely resigned. She
didn't expect any admiration or even genuine interest from her father or
any other man and she had turned the desire of being seen into doing
gymnastic moves. Looking at her doing cartwheels, you could tell she was
good at it. And she was good at it because it was a way to be interesting
physically or even just seen while still, a little, trying to be rough and
tumble, tom-boyish. It was actually a very good compromise, because it
also allowed her to preserve her girliness. And she was very much a girl.

I met with the family at a friend's place because he was working with R's
mother. A year passed but this summer there were regular gathering,
barbecues and the like at my friend's and I was regularly invited, as was
R's family. R was cartwheeling around, looking for my approval, which I
gave her without effort or pretense because, again, she was really good at
it, particularly the way she kept her legs very straight up in the air.
Then, she started to wear clothes that were more revealing, tight little
shorts showing her muscular legs and loose tops riding down when she was
upside down showing glimpses of her stomach and part of her chest. I loved
seeing her showing off her body and she of course picked up on my pleasure
right away. That set off an escalation whereby she wanted to show me more
and more, while always remaining "proper". Her father was, as usual, not
paying attention to anything she was doing and spent his time texting his
friends or fixing a couple of stuff here and there. The other children
were joining R and me in play and tumbling.

I never touched her with the palms of my hands but my eyes probably showed
that I wanted that very much. I started to want to hold her and run my
hands all over her, in a sensuous but neutral manner, like one rubs the
belly of a cat, if he lets you. I started to want to smell her hair, the
scent of her body. I peered into her clear green eyes, smiled at the
freckles on her little nose, marveled at the tiny beads of sweet-smelling
sweat oozing out of the minuscule pores on the top of her cheeks. And so
on. Every time there was a barbecue, I would eat up some more of her with
my eyes and she would do anything she could to feed me. She never hugged
me, as she knew her father would disapprove, at best, but she communicated
hugs to me by pulling her shoulders forward and blinking her eyes hard. I
responded the same way. So we were hugging without hugging. Amazing what
human beings can do.

One day, during her sister's birthday, she took the thing a few notches
further. I was by the swing, pushing her youngest sister and she was
sitting on the swing next to us, facing me. She looked at me with a little
smile and bent backward so that she was basically bent backward in an
inverted "U". Her thighs were parted and her head was almost touching the
ground behind her, her hair dragging in the mulch. For the first time I
laid my palm on her body, inside her splayed thighs as high as her short
shorts would allow me to go. I pretended to give her momentum but I was,
finally, feeling her. Running my hand over the top of her inner thigh. She
kept on swinging slowly, letting her naked stomach show and further
backward still, letting her top ride down to her neck, showing me two
large, light brown areolas and the tiny erect nipples in their center. She
didn't have to part her thighs, she knew her shirt was riding down,
showing me her chest. She was offering her self to my gaze and to me in a
questioning gesture of trustful abandon that one cannot find anywhere
else. I became frightened by her brazen gift but still ran the palm of my
hands on her inner thigh for a couple more time, trying to get as much
sensation from it as I could. I didn't have a full erection but I was
leaking seminal fluid like a broken faucet. I stopped pushing her little
sister, left the swing-set and went to sit down at the table around the
corner, terrified that someone had seen our little game.

Later that evening, as the children were getting ready to go to the
community pool, she insisted that I fixed her one piece swimming suit
that, she pretended, was too loose-fitting. I found a way to make it
tighter by knotting together the back-straps and for a whole two minutes,
I was able to run my hand over her neck and arms, filling my eyes with the
smoothness of her skin, the curve of her neck and the roundness of her
buttocks. She knew what she was doing and so did I.

I think the line was crossed that day because for the first time, she
offered me to touch her body in a sensuous way and I did. I don't know
what she felt when I lay my hand on her strong, white inner thigh but she
didn't recoil or change her posture. She stayed wide open and bent a
little further backwards, offering more of her body to my eyes and hand.
There was still, maybe, the thin pretext of pushing her, but she was not
swinging much.

No. She asked me if I wanted to touch her and I said that I wanted and I
did. That was the line we had crossed. Did I abuse her obvious desire to
be seen and touched by a man? No. Did I use that desire? Yes. By
responding to it in kind, I did tell her that I accepted her offer and
that I enjoyed it. She already knew from reading my facial expressions and
general behaviors and attitudes that I enjoyed looking at her. Now she
knew I was willing to have our bodies touch and that I enjoyed it as well.
And her reaction to my touch sent back the clear message that she enjoyed
it too. I did use the body she offered for my pleasure, so in a way from
here on out, it was merely a matter of degree.

A week later we all went to a restaurant and she was dressed up, girlier
than usual with her dark blond hair streaked by the sun nicely brushed and
loose instead of gathered in the pony-tail she usually wore. She was at
the other end of the long table and didn't look at me much at all, which
hurt a little. By the end of the meal she came to my side, where her
father was also sitting and made a few faces at me, her arms behind her
back. I returned her faces and we giggled. Then she tried to hide behind
my chair inciting me to grab her, which I did until her father ordered her
to "behave".

After the dinner, when we were parting, she turned around me asking
questions or balancing on a concrete parking block, flirting with a fall.
And with my hands catching her if that were to happen. We were now indeed
flirting. Leaving, I took her shoulders in my hands, looked her straight
in the eye and told her she was beautiful.

About a week later, we met again at my friend's and played our usual
games. I took a few pictures of her sucking on a fruit ice-pop and she, of
course, indulged me in the sucking action, with eyes wide open and trained
on me. I say "of course" because I don't know what is going on with most
girls and that. It's always like they pretend they are sucking on
something else, a penis really. Maybe they watched porn videos, or maybe
they hear adults talking or they spy on their parents. I don't know. It's
just never the way a boy does it. I took pictures of her feet and of her
naked stomach, which she showed me with a proud and happy smile, lifting
her top with both hands but not very high because there were people all
around.

At some point, we laid in the grass, looking at the sky and the clouds and
found stuff in them. We were not touching but we were very close. Her
sister felt it and tried to join in.

A month later, we met again and she kept on showing her body twirling
around. Occasionally, she would also lay down in the grass after a series
of tumbles, spread her legs wide, swing her arms behind her head, an
adorable orange and purple "X" on the grass, and glue her gaze to mine.
Waiting. All I could give her was the caress of my eyes from a few feet
away. Then, she sat by me on the lawn while we were eating and as I was
staring at her perfect little face again, telling her how pretty she
looked, she casually stated that she didn't know I was going to be here
today, which struck me as odd because she most probably knew. This had
become a ritual. Same place, same people.

- "Wait a minute... you have make-up on!" I had finally noticed the light
purple shadow on her eyelids and the very, very light black underlining of
her gorgeous green eyes. She nodded and I got it. She had made herself
pretty but didn't want me to know that it was for me. She was afraid of
what it meant. She had protected herself from that meaning by preempting
my approaching realization with a statement worthy of an experienced
politician. That made me feel like grabbing her in my arms right then and
there. But of course I didn't. And that was it until last evening.

I hadn't heard anything from my friend for over a month and school had
been back in session for a few weeks, so I had resigned myself to write
off our little relationship to a happy past. I was watching an evening
show one hot evening in September when the phone rang. It was R's mother
who seemed somewhat tense and asked me if I could help. Her father had a
heart attack and her mother needed her to be there while her husband, R's
father, was stuck in another State due to similar problems with his
father. She could take the two youngest but the two oldest needed to stay
because of school. My friend could not take them because he was touring
the State at that time like his job required every month. The youngest
wanted to go with a friend of theirs, who had a daughter her age but R
insisted that she wanted to come stay with me. It was just for a day,
maybe two and then she would be back. I briefly considered telling her
that missing two days of first grade was probably not going to ruin R's
academic career but the idea of being alone with R swept that away real
quick.

Her mother dropped her off about twenty minutes later and twenty minutes
after that she was straddling my lap, her head buried in my neck. Crashed
on the couch my self, I was looking straight into the back of her jeans
that her firm round buttocks were pushing out. I could see the bottom of
her curved back and a line of purple underwear hugging what almost looked
like a perfect half-sphere. She was babbling in my neck, her soft hair all
around, explaining that she was scared with all these people being sick.
She was happy to be with me though, upon saying which, she straightened up
pushing herself against my shoulders and planted her green gaze into mine.

She had used the situation to crawl up on me, something we had never done
and I had let her do because, like her, I wanted more physical contact
very bad. In spite of all our flirting, we had never even hugged, even
briefly, even once. And while she was talking, I knew she enjoyed being
held as much as I enjoyed holding her. Again, maybe because of the
frighteningly intense reality of it all, I didn't have a full erection but
I sure was turgid and, as usual, leaking like a broken faucet. Until then,
I had kept my hands on her thigh or slowly brushed her hair around or
behind her ears, wanting to nibble on the most sensitive part of her neck,
but but when she stayed quiet, sitting up, with her crotch pressed to
mine, looking at me with a pensive expression, I flirted with that line
again.

I slid my hands under her tee-shirt and grabbed her waist, feeling her
baby-fat for while, reveling in the smoothness of her skin, then glided
along her side up to her arm-pits where I paused briefly and circled my
hands over her shoulder blades, my thumbs remaining on her chest, as if
about to lift her up. I could almost hold her entire torso between my
hands. I gently torqued her around, which made her smile and me in turn.
Imposing a force to her body this way and her joyful compliance with it
also gave me an instant erection and even induced a burst of flutters in
my glans.

I couldn't have expected what she did next. In a matter of maybe one
second, in one smooth movement, she grabbed her tee-shirt with both hands,
lifted it up over head and threw it behind her. With a spontaneous, whole,
honest response she had effectively dealt a fatal blow to the pretense of
innocent play. Of course, in my long life, I had seen women undress,
carried by desire, but never with such an honest resolution, not even
knowing where it would lead. Jumping head first into the unknown. We had
put ourselves in a gray zone, a place where daily, average man-girl
interactions had been left behind and where full-fledged sexuality was not
far ahead.

Dry, sugary heat was radiating from her chest, I could see her rib-cage
moving in and out faster, following her breath, and I was smelling the
sweetest, most erotic scent I had ever encountered. If sex had a perfume,
that would be it and I defy anyone to resist to its effect. Being so
young, it couldn't be sexual hormones but these were pheromones of some
sort and from another world. Now I was erect like a piece of dry wood and
when my thumbs slowly scraped down her chest, grazed her areolas where
little goose-bumps had appeared and pulled her tiny, hard nipples
downward, I exploded in orgasm, squirting over and over inside my pants
but still looking into her wide green eyes.

My hands had slid all the way down to her waist but she grabbed them with
her own and pulled them back up to her flat breasts. My head was actually
swimming and I was trying to catch my breath while little spasms were
still running through my body. I could see minuscule, downy, golden hair
raised on her forearms and I could feel her tiny points poking against my
palms. Her whole chest was now heaving as if she had run up a flight of
stairs and I remember staring at her adorable little pectorals randomly
twitching. She had put my hands where she had wanted them the most and for
a long time. I didn't know what to say or what to do and apparently she
didn't either so she fell back against me but this time with her head
turned towards my shoulder.

Now my mind was racing in all directions with nightmarish scenarios and I
decided to stop there. I was also amazed at the intensity of the orgasm
that had gushed out of me with no direct stimulation aside from the
pressure of her crotch on mine. It was like years of sexual desire for
little girls, countless fantasies and glimpses of minute erotic pleasure
with and about them had been released in one powerful spurt. Maybe this
had gotten the whole deal out of my system. Like a tropical flower that
explodes its sperm, juice or whatever reproductive stuff once every ten
years. A couple of blissful minutes passed.

- "Hungry?" I whispered and I felt her head move up and down.
- "Well, let's go have a pizza in town then!" Upon which she quickly
unmounted my lap like I was a horse, picked up her tee-shirt off the floor
with a giggle and wiggle into it in a flash of mussed hair flying around.
Her face was red and her eyes almost teary but she had a proud little
smile on her mouth.
- "I need to go to the bathroom!" She said, blushing some more.
- "I do too! What don't you take this one and I take the other one?" I
said pointing behind me. She ran away and I awkwardly walked to my room to
get a change of pants and underwear. It felt like I had crapped my pants.
The stuff was everywhere so I took a quick shower and went back to the
living room where she was perched on the back-rest of the couch, lying
like a cat, watching TV. As we walked out to the car, she grabbed my hand.

While chomping on our pizza with appetite, we talked about our lives. She
babbled away about her friends and school and her annoying siblings and I
did the same about my work and my prospects of soon leaving the area. She
stopped chewing.
- "When do you go?"
- "I don't know. I hope less than a couple of months. Maybe much less.
Depends on the job I can find"
- "I'm coming with!" She said just for the kicks, because she knew she
wouldn't.
- "I wish."
- " Well, we'll have to trade friendship bracelets and I'll have to give
you a goodbye present." She said, looking dead serious.
- "It's not like I'm going to the moon or anything. I'll be back once a
month or so, just to visit my friends here. Including you."
- "Still." She insisted. And for a split second I saw a wave of genuine
sadness wash over her round freckled face and her green eyes. Then she
giggled, while the sadness lingered for a couple of seconds in her clear
gaze.

Back home, we watched TV for a couple of hours. She was snuggled against
my side, wrapped into one of my tee-shirt that she had taken out of my
closet without asking and I felt rested and content just playing with her
toes, occasionally feeling her calves and sniffing her hair, which made
her chuckle every time. It looked like we had gotten over our heated
attraction and I realized that my years of pent up desire matched her own
years of desperate need for a man to hold her and desire her. In the
process, she had discovered the pleasure her body could give her. Forces
balanced each other out and it felt like we were now at peace. And that
was incredibly good. I wanted to ask her what she saw and felt when we
touched but I thought it was best to leave it at that.

She fell asleep in my arms and I carried her to her bed and went to mine,
where I passed out as soon as I curled up on my favorite side. This was
pure bliss. As usual, I woke up in the middle of the night, three in the
morning at my watch, with the feeling I had slept a solid twelve hours.
That's how rested I was.

I was just about to drift back into sleep when I heard the sound of bare
feet tapping the hardwood floor in the hallway. Soon, R was standing at
the side of my bed. She stayed silent for a few seconds.

- "You're sleeping?" She whispered.
- "Not anymore, R." I whispered back. The moon was shining South of the
house, drawing lines across the wall. I could almost see her face. I heard
her chuckle.
- "I was thinking. I know what my goodbye present is." She said softly.
- "Thank you in advance, Sweetie. Can we talk about that tomorrow? Or you
want to surprise me, maybe?" Seconds passed.
- " I wanna give it to you right now."
- "Ah... OK. Do you want us to get up and all. It's around three but if
that's what you want, we'll pretend its Christmas."

At that point, I was rubbing my closed eyes in preparation for turning the
light on and see what she had in mind. I stopped in the middle of my
movement because her scent had again reached my nostrils. I looked and
there she was, standing by the bed completely naked.

- "I am the present." She said in a slightly shaky voice. That took care
of my hope that sex with little girls had been ejaculated out of my
system, because my penis started to grow at an alarming rate.
- "You looked so, I don't know, happy when we touched yesterday. You
looked like I was making you feel stuff and me I felt goose-bumps all
over. So I thought it would be the present. I still want the bracelets
though."

I tried to think. Then she whispered, almost to the point I couldn't make
out what she was saying. She was looking down at her feet, her hair washed
over her face.
- "I feel I'm important to you. It's something I didn't know I could feel
either. It makes me feel like I'm not in a cartoon but a real girl. A real
person. So I wanna give you all I have. And that's all I have." I heard a
sigh and I just turned into mush. I could have told her that her adorable
body was certainly not the only thing she had but that would have amounted
to turn her down because she honestly thought and felt it was. So I lifted
the sheet. I went all in as she had.

- "Come in here baby girl, come into my arms." And she did, wrapping her
strong leg over my waist, pressing her tiny body against mine, feeling my
turgid penis growing harder by the second on her stomach.
- "Thank you Honey... This is the best present I ever had in my whole
entire life." And that was the truth too. Now, this was not cuddling
anymore but I couldn't hold back.. The kind of thinking that rules the
normal daily functioning of an adult man was gone. And we had begun to to
do the unthinkable.

I had her whole naked body between my arms. Her head was in one of my
hands while the other was roaming over her skin with increasing urgency.
She was so small, barely larger than a pillow, and so soft. I wanted to
taste, lick, suck, kiss, rub, squeeze or whatever else every part of her
strong little body. My hands were running all over her back, down to her
round buttocks that I gripped and squeezed with all the strength I had,
then slipping my fingers along the cleft down to her naked lips, then
running back up again, encircling her neck, digging my fingers through her
hair. And back down, each time pressing her harder against me. When she
started to utter little throaty sounds I knew I couldn't hold more than a
few seconds but I also knew that I wanted this to last, so I stopped and
we stayed still for a while. I had to hold my breath until my penis
stopped pulsating, on the edge or orgasm. She was now nibbling at my neck
while her hands were awkwardly rubbing my side and what they could reach
of my back. Our bodies had turned into a heap of taught, musky, burning,
smooth and dry flesh. Well, clearly there was no more line to be crossed.
Now it was about our pleasure and only that.

I turned the bed-side lamp on, because I wanted to see it all and I wanted
her to see it all.
I took her in with my eyes and she did the same. Her hand went straight to
my penis, that she poked first, giggling when it bounced back, and then
held in her hand, squeezing it to test its hardness. Not knowing, she
rubbed her fingers over the glans, which made me jump, thrust forward and
gasp. Intuitively, she stopped and looked at me and at the slippery fluid
covering her fingers. Even looking at her little girl's hand with chipped
polish on her nails was a turn-on. I slid a finger up her slit and brought
back some fluid too, which I showed her and rubbed against mine on her
index. She giggled.

- "It's there so you can put this", poking my penis, "in there", she
guessed, putting the slippery finger between her labia.
- " That's right. But I can't do that. You're too small and it would hurt
you."
- "Can we put just a little bit of it in there?"
- "Maybe."
- "Just a little. Like, up to... here I guess." She said matter-of-factly
while running her middle finger along the base of my glans, which almost
sent me flying over the edge.
- "I... really would like that. But first, I want to cover every inch of
your sexy body with licks and kisses." She stretched her legs and swung
her arms over her head exactly as she had done on the grass, looking at me
with exactly the same expression she had had that day.
- "Go ahead, it's your present. But don't tickle!"

I went on all four above her, just a few inches above her skin and rubbed
my lips over her hands and arms, avoiding her arm-pits but staring at
their smoothness for a while. Meanwhile, my fully erected penis was
bobbing up and down in front of her eyes. Then the other side. When I
reached her nipples, there were goose-bumps over her areolas and I suckled
her. She grabbed my head and moved it around from one side to the other.
She would alternately bring her shoulders forward, lifting her head to
kiss the top of mine or curve her back and push her chest up, resting on
the back of her head offering her rib-cage and her throat. Every time, she
would hold her breath for a few seconds and exhale with a sharp little
cry. Although it was warm and our skin was hot, we were completely dry of
sweat and sliding against each other like river pebbles.

I went straight for her vulva and noticed that she was slightly humping
the air. Nobody had taught her that, I thought. This is pure female
instinct somehow programmed in our genes. Her scent was very similar to
that of a ginger cookie and I took some time to lick her from anus to
clitoris, kissing her incredibly soft little mound, which I could take
entirely in my mouth. I got into a rhythm, not too slow, not too fast,
synchronized with what I felt was the average duration of orgasmic spasms.
I did that for a while, moving up and down her and then I hardened my
tongue and stopped moving. I wanted her to thrust her pelvis and to get
into the rhythm herself. I wanted her aggressiveness to create and build
up her own pleasure, which I thought was the best way of having her lose
all control. And she did. After a short while, I saw her stomach dip a
couple of time while she breathed with force and shoved her round little
mons in my face. Her eyes were wide open, fixed, while her swollen lips
were parted in what looked like a smile.

This was not the orgasm usually depicted in sexy stories. There were no
screams or yelps but it was genuine. I felt the round muscle of her vulva
flutter around my tongue and went all the way down her legs to give her,
and myself, a little rest. There were no tickles any more and every place
I kissed and licked, including the inside of her thighs where I had first
laid my hands a few months ago, or even her toes seem to be responding
with a plea for more.

Like a snail, I had left trails of seminal fluid everywhere and the scent
around us was getting stronger. I couldn't remember having been so aroused
in all my years. I was feeling tingles everywhere on my body.

I turned her over and massaged her buttocks for a long time, kneading them
like dough, of which they had the consistence and pretty much the size as
well. The perfect dough, elastic, bouncy and smooth. Occasionally, I would
slide a finger or the whole side of my hand inside and along the cleft,
which regularly produced a massive contraction, making the sphere jiggle a
little, while a sound muffled by the pillow came from her mouth. Spreading
her thighs wide I knelt between them, leaned forward and rested my weight
on her shoulders, burying her into the mattress and slowly rubbing my
penis on her cleft. I wanted her to feel my weight, to feel overpowered
for a little while, to taste the pleasure of surrender. I saw the curve of
her spine deepen more and more as she tried to hump back and her little
hand clutching the corner of the pillow. I had to freeze again to avoid
hosing her back with my semen.

I rolled onto my side, breathing hard and she flipped around like a fish
out of the water, soon straddling me, lying on top of me, pushing my
shoulders down with a devilish smile on her lips.
- "Your turn!" I submitted to her will with great pleasure, my penis still
nested between her buttocks, its head pointing towards the ceiling and I
chuckled because she didn't know what to do, which made her mad. I grabbed
her face between my hands.
- "Maybe is it finally time for some kissing?" And I put my lips over
hers, slowly brushing from side to side, grabbing her upper lip and then
her lower lip, teaching her to do the same, gently moving her head around.
Occasionally pecking. She pushed back against my shoulders, her face all
flushed.

- "I like that! I like all of that! A lot!" and she hurried back down to
my mouth, taking over the action. I held her head just an inch from mine
and extended my tongue enough to lightly lick her upper lip. She looked at
me with round eyes and did the same. A few seconds later, we were making
love with our mouths and she had discovered by herself all the tricks to
milk the best out of it. She couldn't get enough and her narrow, straight
hips had started to undulate a little again. Every once in a while, she
would stand back, look at me, still lightly humping, lick her lips and go
back down to business with the passion of a teenager. We were lucky that I
had shaved earlier in the evening. Soon, her arms started to shake and she
rested on her elbows for a while and then just laid her head on my
shoulder.

My hands were running up and down her back, feeling the nape of her neck,
her shoulder blades, her spine, the curve of her lower back that she would
again deepen for me as I approached it. Squeezing, parting and moving her
buttocks around a little, which rubbed my penis and stimulated her vulva.
I would grab her hair and slightly pull it upward, pretending to un-glue
her mouth from mine and she would pull back. I managed to take a look at
my watch. We had been at it for almost two hours and we needed to conclude
somehow. She would need at least another four to six hours of sleep and I
was afraid her mother would show up around lunch time. In addition, my
penis had grown larger due to the constant erection and I felt it was like
a stick of nitroglycerin that would blow up upon the slightest
provocation. I wanted to have some control before the explosion.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her up just enough for my penis to snap down
and align itself with her splayed vulva. When our genitals touched, two
things happened. She stopped undulating and lifted her head up, an
expression of total incomprehension on her face, her glistening lips open
on two huge brand new white teeth and a few holes around. The other thing
was that I felt something I didn't know could happen. A stream of seminal
fluid coming out of my penis. This was not sperm, there was no spasm but a
sort of slow, continuous urinating-like thing that lasted for a good two
seconds.

As a result, our genitals were inundated with lubricant and as soon as she
tilted her hips up ever so slightly, the tip of my glans slid past the
entrance. Her head fell back down on my shoulder and she remained
completely still, breathing long and slow through her mouth while her eyes
were looking through me. She was in a state of total abandon and after I
tilted my pelvis enough to push my glans further inside of her, I stopped
moving, hoping that the tsunami I felt rising would somehow subside. She
had been right. My shaft was outside but almost all of the head was indeed
inside, tightly hugged in a burning embrace.

We stayed like that, completely still, almost asleep but eyes wide-open
for a long time. Then, she started undulating again, almost imperceptibly,
and I followed her lead. I was snugly lodged inside of her, the tip of me
abutted somewhere, maybe to her hymen. My penis was not moving inside of
her, we were just slowly rocking together and the image of two pieces of
industrial equipment connected by a high-voltage plug came to my mind and
almost made me chuckle. She looked like she was trying to articulate words
but what came out of her whispering mouth never went beyond their first
syllable.
- "th... I... it... uh... th...".

Her hips started to rock with a little more urgency and I followed still,
avoiding any movement inside of her but our joint movements still pulling,
pushing, pressing, massaging and twisting the mucosae everywhere because I
was so big and she was so tiny. She increased the amplitude of her
humping, probably carried away by an instinctual force that commanded
further penetration. I refused only out of fear of hurting her and of
destroying the absolute eroticism of the moment. I matched her undulations
the best I could and it was becoming very difficult as I felt the ultimate
tingle beginning to rise somewhere inside of me.

When I softly wrapped my hands around her buttocks and gently pulled them
apart, she lost it. I had dreamed so many times of seeing a little girl in
the throws of orgasm and there she was, her beautiful face inches from
mine, her eyes half-closed and looking greener and clearer than ever, her
flushed round cheeks, her mouth opened like a ripe fruit. She looks so
young, I thought as I was rapidly loosing most of my cerebral functions.
When I felt her vulva squeezing my glans I lost it too. Half-passed out
already, all I felt was her squeezing me again and again and me spurting
in response. My glans felt hard as a rock but somehow kept on getting even
harder with each squirt. I moaned like a dog in heat and I think she let
out a few grunts that sounded like she was lifting something too heavy. I
don't remember very well and I don't remember anything at all after that.

I woke up with a start and looked at my watch in a panic. It was almost
noon. Then the panic extended to what had happened. And where the fuck was
she?! I was hearing the TV on the other side of the house so I got up in a
hurry and darted over there only to see her, all dressed and cleaned up,
her hair neatly pulled in a pony tail, sitting quietly in front of the TV
and slurping a bowl of cereal. She looked at me and patted the couch by
her side. Not even looking at me, she asked:
- "So... Did you like your present?"
- "So... Did you like what I did with it?" She turned a very serious face
towards me. She almost looked devastated. Most of my life played in
accelerated fast-forward before my eyes because I was dead. My heart was
pounding and the thought came to my mind that it wouldn't be so bad to
have a massive heart attack right then and there.

- "This is way too big... this is too way too strong... This is like
having killed someone," she said looking at me with tears in her eyes.
- "Nobody must know what we did. Ever. Nobody! You must promise! You must!
I know it's forbidden but I don't care. This is like I'm still me but I'm
also a super-girl or something. I didn't know... You must promise! It's
like we got married in secret and no one can know. Ever. No one!" At that
point, tears were running down my eyes and she kept on going.
- "You must swear!" She was hammering the couch with her strong little
hand, "I know it's forbidden, everyone told us about men and little girls
and such. I don't care. This is mine, it's no one else's. I mean, it's
yours too. It's yours and no one else's. I mean, it's ours and no one
else's. This is so awesome. So awesome. But this is too big. Swear!" I
wiped the tears off of my face.
- "Let's swear. And you need to know that if someone does know at any
point in time, I'll be as good as dead. For real." We swore and playfully
sucked on each other's tongue one last time, drying each other's eyes.
Then we did some yard-work and every few minutes, she would come to me and
press herself against me, inviting my arms to hug her. Her mother came by
a few hours later and that was that.

I saw her again a couple of months later and we looked at each other a
lot. Partners in crime. As they were about to leave, I knelt down to help
her tie her shoe-laces although they didn't need it and she was almost
eight anyways. She looked at me and whispered "I love you!" and added a
very serious "Never!" extending her pinky, to which I hooked mine.

When we were having dinner that day, her Mother asked me what I had done
to her because since the Summer, she had been a different child.
Responsible, caring and happier or less cranky. She had stopped
cartwheeling though and had become much more interested in school stuff.
Science mostly. Of course she had her moments and she was cracking them up
when she was getting mad at them, storming out, repeating that they didn't
treat her like a person. Had I taught her that? She asked laughing. I
guess I did, I replied.

I have no excuse, and I don't look for any. Did I use or abuse R? I don't
think I have. One can argue that she was only looking for male attention
and that I ab-used this need by turning it into the sexual gratification I
was looking for. Like all children, she had clearly placed our
relationship on a physical level to begin with, but as soon as she
realized, and that was quick, that I was interested, she did whatever she
could to entice me with her body. And she did that with complete honesty
and straightforwardness. In fact, younger and less inhibited, her sexual
desire was probably stronger than mine. When, twice, she undressed her
body for me, it was not for attention. It was purely to experience
pleasure, which is the only reason why, twice, I crossed the line. I can
find a few logical reasons why I could have denied myself this pleasure. I
can't find any for which I should have denied it to her. Morality goes,
logic remains. We were both caught in our human nature with its
frustrations, yearnings and drives and we joined with curiosity, passion
and honesty.

Often, in the beginning, I asked myself if I could have done the same if R
had been my daughter. And I don't think I would have. My desire for her
and her desire for me would have been diluted over millions of little
interactions, years of life. Her desire would have never reached the
degree of despaired accumulation and the intensity it had that evening.
And mine would have learned to taste her female sexual essence like a good
wine, one sip and one glass at the time. She would have grown knowing that
she owned her father's desire, the desire of the male, and she would have
walked through the world with that knowledge, with calm, assurance and
pride.

I think R has acquired that knowledge with me. Symmetrically, she has
given me the knowledge of female's desire, the very essence of which is
carried by little girls. I swear, some of the beauties I cross path with,
here or there, at the shop or on a beach, somehow seem to feel it. They
return my friendly gaze in a weird, insistent way, as if thinking "Wait a
minute... is this what I think it is?"

However strangely, years later, my attraction to little girls is still at
its lowest. Maybe she took me so high on that night that I know it's
unlikely I could ever get any higher. Maybe I'll meet another R some day,
somewhere, it's certainly possible, but I doubt it.

Females, and that includes girls, are the very only thing that can make a
man's life whole. R made me whole.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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