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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Temptation part 1 of 1 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
THE FIRST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Jesus Christ was about 30-years-old when he noticed the little
girl next door. She’d been babyish at 6, and kind of skinny at 7, he
thought, but at 8 she was really starting to blossom! Often, as he sat
inside his mom’s house jacking off to Judaic Jugs Monthly, he would hear
her playing outside on the sidewalk.
“One, Two, Three, Four, Open the Door!” the girl would scream
in her high, childish voice, as she jumped with quick feet down a
hopscotch diagram drawn with her colored Sesame Street Chalk on the
sidewalk.
Jesus realized that a real girl, even a little girl, was better
than jerking off over some other man’s squeeze. Especially some whore
like the girls in Judaic Jugs, who had already fucked entire football
teams of men by the time she was old enough to appear in the magazine.
(Jesus himself was very holy, and a bit homely, and so still a virgin
himself, despite being 30.)
Jesus, in a flash of inspiration, realized that the 8-year-old
outside his house would be as beautiful as the girls in Judaic Jugs by
the time she was 18. Why should he wait until she’d been used by other
males? Why not meet her now, and enjoy her company as a virgin? Who
knows? When she decided to have her cherry popped, she might choose
Jesus to do the job!
Carefully Jesus put away the latest issue of Judaic Jugs. He
cleaned himself up in the bathroom and then, still hard, for he hadn’t
cum, he went outside. He turned on the hose in his mom’s front yard and
pretended to water the plants. But really he was watching the little
girl playing on the sidewalk.
Her name was Polly. She was short, but well-formed. Her
breasts were already budding and she had a bottom that Jesus could only
describe to himself as “heavenly.” Her upper body was thin, but her
hips flared out, and her legs were long and lively. As she danced on
her chalk-drawn hopscotch board, her long hair, drawn back in a pony
tail, swished invitingly across her back.
It was summer and the sun overhead was hot. Polly had
accommodated herself to the heat by wearing a short midriff that left
her belly bare. Jesus could see her dimpled belly button on her small
flat tummy and he felt a sudden desire to kiss it. How he would love to
lick his tongue across the tanned flesh, and explore that little navel
hole! He could almost hear how she’d sigh as he drove his manly tongue
into her virgin navel. And, down below, her virgin slit would be
slumbering, waiting for him to violate her there too.
Jesus realized he’d wasted 30 years of his life pursuing brazen
women and masturbating over their photographs in Judaic Jugs. Here was
a real female! Small, happy, friendly, and still innocent -- not like
the tawdry Judaic Jugs girls.
Jesus ambled down to the edge of his mother’s lawn. The sun,
declining in the west, threw his shadow across little Polly’s hopscotch
diagram. She looked up. Jesus happened to be holding his mom’s hose
near his crotch and as she spied him she smiled slyly.
With a cough Jesus pulled the hose away from his crotch.
“Don’t get my hopscotch board wet!” Polly cried. The water
from Jesus’ hose spurted across a corner of the board, erasing the
chalk.
“Ooops! Sorry,” Jesus said. He coughed again. How stupid of
him! But he was 30 and so he was tall compared to Polly and so, even
though he’d just been a dick, little Polly smiled at him with
admiration.
“Wanna play hopscotch with me?” Polly asked.
“Sure... sorry I erased part of your board,” Jesus said.
Carefully he laid his mother’s hose down in the grass. He knew he
should retreat back to the house and turn off the water, but he was
afraid Polly’s attention would vanish and she’d be gone by the time he
returned. So, leaving the hose running in the grass, he stepped out
onto the sidewalk to play with Polly. There was a small ditch between
the sidewalk and the lawn and the water pooled in the ditch and ran down
onto the neighbor’s driveway, missing Polly’s hopscotch board. Jesus
noticed the water, as it ran through the ditch, carried dirt with it
from the bottom of the ditch and created a dirty puddle in the
neighbor’s driveway. He hoped the neighbors wouldn’t look outside and
notice it.
“Do you want to be ribbies or larks?” Polly asked Jesus.
“Huh?” Jesus asked. He knew nothing about hopscotch.
“Ribbies is throwing the rock this way, and larks is like
this,” Polly said, demonstrating.
“Oh -- Ribbies, I guess,” Jesus decided.
“Ribbies is my favorite. I don’t really like larks,” Polly
said.
“Oh, well I’ll be larks then,” Jesus said.
“Good. I like being Ribbies!” Polly said. “Here, I’ll go
first. Watch and you can see what to do when you’re larks.”
“Okay,” Jesus said. He was a Talmudic Law Student and he
prayed that, being able to interpret the Talmud, he might figure out how
a ‘lark’ played hopscotch properly when Polly gave him his turn.
Polly threw her rock. It bounced along the sidewalk and landed
on a square marked with a three.
“One, Two, Three, Four, Open the Door!” Polly yelled. She
jumped down the hopscotch board. Jesus watched her ponytail as it
bounced along behind her and he especially watched the jiggly tight
cheeks of her bottom. Her ass stuck out like a small pumpkin, with a
single inviting crease down the middle. Polly wore shorts and she had
obviously grown some since her mother had bought them for her, for they
didn’t quite manage to cover her little bottom. Jesus could see the
white flesh of her small apple-round cheeks where her swim panties
covered her when she went swimming. But, in shorts now, shorts that
were too small for her lovely round ass, Jesus could easily see the
undercurves of her hind cheeks. Below, her tanned legs danced like the
legs of a new foal.
“Your turn,” Polly said. She turned toward him and faced him,
from the far end of the hopscotch board. Jesus realized he was deathly
hard in his crotch and wondered, without looking down, if his thing was
noticeable. Then he saw Polly’s eyes drop from his face to his waist.
A little below his waist, in fact.
“Ooooh, you have a big one!” Polly announced. To Jesus, it
seemed as if the girl had shouted it to the entire neighborhood. “My
brother has a big one, but he never lets me see it,” Polly said.
“Well, uh, yeah, it is kinda big,” Jesus admitted. He looked
down at himself. Damn! It looked like he had a bent torpedo sticking
out of the front of his pants.
“Wanna go inside? If you show me your thing and let me play
with it I’ll make you a bowl of ice cream,” Polly said. She stood
staring at Jesus’ prong, her eyes wide, her mouth smiling in
invitation. Childishly she stood with her tummy sticking out in front
of her. Though it was perfectly flat she still held herself like a
small girl, jutting it out. Jesus’ eyes gazed at Polly’s tummy and then
delved below, where her too-short shorts formed a tight vee between her
lean legs. Jesus could almost see himself drawing down those little
girl shorts, peering into her slit! How heavenly that would be, to
spend the afternoon dallying with Polly indoors, in her bedroom, showing
off his thing to her.
Polly walked up the hopscotch board, pausing to pick up her
rock that she used to play the game with. Then she took Jesus’ hand.
It felt small and warm in Jesus’ big manly hand, and he was suddenly
elated that he had this small girl’s hand in his palm instead of his own
wicked penis.
“Come on, it’s too hot out to play,” Polly said to Jesus. She
gave him a smile, pushed a lock of blonde hair back from her face, and
glanced down at his torpedo-like prick. “Let’s go inside and make ice
cream sundaes. My mom bought cherries -- we can each have a cherry on
top!”
“Yes, a cherry on top,” Jesus mumbled to himself. And a
thought of this luscious girl, sitting with her legs wide apart atop his
prone form, flashed through his mind.
Polly led Jesus across the street to her house. As they
crossed onto Polly’s lawn a cat darted through the bushes along the side
of Polly’s yard.
“Ooooh, there’s that doggone cat! He always tries to eat my
parakeet!” Polly declared. Her hand left Jesus’ and she ran up the lawn
after the cat. Jesus watched as her feet pumped across the grass. Her
legs were breathtakingly long, deeply tanned, and he could once again
admire how short her shorts were in back, leaving exposed the undersides
of her round virgin bottom. Polly darted in amongst the bushes trying
to catch the cat. It leaped up onto a fence that separated Polly’s yard
from the neighbors’. It paused, looked back at Polly disdainfully. She
leaped at the fence, almost caught its tail. Alarmed, the cat jumped
down into the yard beyond.
Jesus came up to the bushes where Polly was panting hard from
her effort to catch the cat. She turned back to him. Her hair was
mussed. She drew air into her lungs in big healthy gasps. She passed
her small hand across her forehead to push her mussed hair out of her
eyes. Fortunately the bulk of her hair remained caught well behind her
head in a ponytail, where it swished whenever she moved.
“Oooh, that cat is SUCH a nuisance!” Polly declared. “I hope I
catch it someday -- my brother promises he’ll cook it for my parakeet if
I do!”
Jesus stood admiring little Polly. She was hot and a little
sweaty and her breasts, just budding, rose and fell within her short
shirt as her lungs filled and exhaled. She hugged him. She was short
and her face came up just to his stomach. His cock pressed into her
shirt, just above her breasts. Polly gave a wriggle, as if on purpose,
to feel his cock against her body. Then, sighing, as if from the effort
of trying to catch the cat, but perhaps from something else, Polly stood
on tip-toe, so that her small breasts were forced to accept Jesus’ penis
between them.
“Mmmm, I need that ice cream weally badly now,” Polly said.
She turned her face up to Jesus and looked at him quite intently. Then,
as if not noticing how hard he’d been as he pressed against her, she let
go of his waist and caught at his big hand and led him up to the front
door of her house.
They went inside. Within the house it was dark and cool.
Polly’s hand felt moist as Jesus held it.
“Oh, goody, nobody’s home,” Polly said. She looked up at Jesus
and smiled conspiratorily. She put her finger to her lips. “Shhhh!”
she said. “Sometimes my dad stays home and naps and even though I think
nobody’s home he actually is.” Then, letting go of Jesus’ hand, Polly
crept quietly into an adjoining room. A moment later she returned.
There was a happy grin plastered across her face. “Nope! Not here!”
Polly giggled. “Now we can eat as much ice cream as we want. And
cherries too! I’ll blame it all on my brother if mom asks who had so
much ice cream.”
Together Jesus and Polly clasped hands and went to the kitchen.
Jesus looked around the kitchen. The shadows were lengthening
in this room, with the stove sitting quietly in one corner and the
refrigerator humming contentedly beside the stove. Both were white.
There was a drawing by Polly posted on the refrigerator. It was of a
heart, with an arrow piercing it.
“I drew that!” Polly said to Jesus. She took hold of the
refrigerator door’s handle and yanked it open. Jesus felt a wafting of
cool air. “Mmmm, chocolate milk. Let’s have some of that too!” Polly
said. She reached into the refrigerator with both hands and pulled out
a gallon-sized carton of milk. Jesus could hear the milk sloshing
inside the carton; it sounded about half full. He looked at Polly’s
smile and guessed she intended to drain it.
Polly put the gallon, which was really only half a gallon, of
milk on a section of kitchen countertop that came between the stove and
the refrigerator. It was just wide enough for the carton to fit on it,
leaving room for a glass or two to join it. Polly walked past the stove
to the section of counter where the cups could be found. Glancing over
at Jesus, she put both her palms up on the counter. She hoisted herself
up onto it, much as a 5-year-old looking for cookie jar cookies might.
“I can’t reach the freezer,” Polly said. “Wanna get out the
ice cream for me?”
“Okay,” Jesus said. He pulled open the freezer. But he
watched Polly’s bottom at the same time, telling himself he was looking
at it, at her, to grab her in case she started to fall. Once again
Polly’s exertions caused her too-short shorts to rise high on her ass,
showing her white skin beneath. Jesus realized she must not be wearing
any panties under her shorts. It caused his erection, already
dangerously visible, to pop out more in the crotch of his pants. ‘Oh
well,’ he told himself. ‘It’s warm and not sexy, I don’t think, for a
little girl in a hurry to play hopscotch to just yank on some soft
shorts and skip putting on panties.’ But the fact that Polly was
without panties enflamed his lust all the same. He watched her bottom
wiggling as she reached up and opened the cabinet that hung above the
counter.
“This is my favorite cup!” Polly told Jesus. She took a small
plastic cup out of the cabinet. It had a rather worn picture of
Tweety-Bird on it. “Tweety reminds me of my parakeet,” Polly confided.
Then she put the cup back. “But I want a BIG ice cream sundae, and a
float too, so I need a big bowl and a big cup.”
“Don’t forget the milk,” Jesus said.
“Oh yeah, that too!” Polly said. She giggled. “My brother’s
going to be weally hungry today, even though he isn’t going to get any!”
Jesus put the ice cream he’d found in the freezer on the
countertop next to the milk. Polly took four glasses and two bowls down
from the cabinet and, placing them on the counter, she jumped back down
to the floor.
“Wanna bake cookies too?” Polly asked Jesus.
“Uh, I think we’ve probably got enough,” Jesus said.
“My mom won’t be home ‘till seven, since dad’s gone with her,”
Polly said. “That should leave us plenty of time to enjoy our ice
cream.” She smiled. “Hopefully my brother won’t come home. He likes
visiting his girlfriend.”
Jesus opened the container of ice cream. It was a 3-in-1 box,
containing chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry.
“Wanna make our ice creams in the nude?” Polly asked.
“Huh?” Jesus asked. He’d almost forgotten little Polly,
looking at the ice cream. For a minute he was just at some friend’s
house, scrounging a meal. Now, suddenly, he remembered that he was a
guest of little Polly.
Polly took hold of the hem of her shirt. She pulled it up.
“Let’s take our clothes off, and make our sundaes naked, and eat them
that way too!” Polly suggested. Before Jesus could stop her, Polly’s
head had disappeared inside her shirt and he found himself staring at
her bare tits. They were twin little mounds, with cute, fleshy,
mosquito-bitten nipples, it seemed, puffing up from them. Twin
cherries, and Jesus saw the nipple-like stems of each generous teat were
hard.
Polly’s head popped out of her shirt. She grinned at Jesus.
“I never got to eat ice cream naked before, but I caught my brother
doing it once with his girlfriend!” Polly said.
“Well, I’m not sure we--” Jesus began. He’d enjoyed admiring
Polly’s body, but it had nonetheless been a sort of Platonic
admiration. Despite his fantasies, he’d never really expected to see
her naked. Yet now here she was, standing right in front of him, with
her boobies on display, and a big smile on her face. Unabashedly she
tossed her shirt on the floor and stuck her fingers into the waistband
of her shorts.
Before Jesus could stop Polly, she pulled down her pants. He
found himself looking straight at her hairless pussy. Polly, perhaps
thinking that she was, in fact, undressing for her bath, suddenly
blushed as she saw Jesus looking at her private. Yet she managed to get
her shorts shoved down to her ankles, and she stepped out of the tangle
of cloth at her feet as if it were simply an annoyance to be discarded.
She had been wearing flip-flops outside. Those were parked at the front
door, leaving her feet bare.
Polly reached up behind her head and undid the elastic band
that held her pony tail. Nothing, apparently, was to be left on when
Polly decided to get naked. She pulled off the band and her hair spread
over her shoulders and back in a golden sheen. She gave it a toss, then
dropped the band onto her pants on the floor.
“Well?” Polly asked Jesus. She put her hands on her hips.
“Aren’t you going to get naked?”
“Uh, okay,” Jesus replied. He pulled at his t-shirt. Polly,
though, had a more direct interest. She walked up to him and took hold
of his pants zipper.
ZIP! Jesus heard his zipper go down as he struggled to get off
his shirt. He lifted weights sometimes, when he was tired of reading
the Talmud, and lately he’d started to actually develop some muscles.
He needed a new t-shirt. This one, his favorite, had suddenly become
rather tight.
The tightness in his crotch, however, was about to be
relieved. He felt Polly’s little fingers dig within his opened zipper.
The pressure of her grasping digits against his turgid cock almost made
him cum. He drew in a deep breath, prayed; tried desperately to control
himself. He wanted to reach down and bat Polly’s fingers away, but he
was trying to get his shirt off and he’d never had a female actually go
for his cock before. It seemed wonderful, and he was glad it was little
Polly, because she’d never got hold of any guy’s cock before, just as
he’d never seen a real live girl’s slit until just a moment ago, when
she’d lustily lowered her shorts.
“EEEEK!” Polly screamed. Suddenly Jesus’ dick popped out into
Polly’s hands. Like some unsheathed banana it lurched out and
overwhelmed her little fingers, the crown of it actually banging against
her nose.
Polly straightened up, but she was so short that Jesus’ cock
extended to just under her chin. She lifted a finger and touched it.
Jesus felt a thrill of desire course through his big thing.
Jesus’ dick wiggled. It looked like some big baton sticking
out of his zipper. Polly eyed it with a fascinated sort of desire, both
afraid of it and awed by it.
“Yours is bigger than my brothers’,” Polly confided to Jesus.
“Um, thanks,” Jesus said.
“Do you have hairy nuts hanging underneath yours?” Polly
asked. Her eyes were wide, yet she had a curious look on her face, like
an explorer parting the jungles of deepest Africa to reveal its secrets
at last. Jesus looked down at his pubic hair, sticking bushily out of
his fly, with his cock jutting nakedly out like some elephant tusk.
“Yeah, all guys do,” Jesus said.
“Are they like coconuts?” Polly asked.
“Like what?” Jesus said.
“You know, do they have milk inside?” Polly asked.
“Well, uh, yeah, if I get excited enough,” Jesus said.
“Well don’t shoot any of it on me,” Polly said.
“Okay,” Jesus replied.
“Take off your pants, silly. I’m hungry,” Polly told Jesus.
“Sure, whatever you say,” Jesus answered. He reached down to
his waist, having gotten his shirt off, and undid his belt.
“You’ll do anything for ice cream,” Polly told him, watching as
Jesus pulled down his pants.
“Uh, yeah,” Jesus answered.
Jesus got off his jeans and pulled down his undershorts at the
same time. He’d been wearing flip-flops, like Polly, and his were
parked at the front door beside hers. In a moment he was completely
bare, as naked as Polly. He wasn’t as deeply tanned as she but there
was a white patch of skin across his loins, where he sometimes wore his
swimsuit, and his ass was white too. Polly was the same, except that
her breast lumps were white too. He realized she must have already
graduated from one-piece swimsuits to bikinis, for her tummy was tanned,
but guessed they must be little girl bikinis.
“Now let’s have our ice cream,” Polly announced to Jesus.
“I’ll get the scooper. You can scoop it, though, ‘cause it’s hard and I
have trouble.”
“Okay,” Jesus agreed. Polly opened the silverwear drawer and
brought the scooper to Jesus. She eyed his balls, hanging between his
hairy legs. Playfully she thrust the scooper at his balls, managed to
cup them.
“Hey!” Jesus said. Polly pressed the scoop mechanism on the
scooper and Jesus felt his pubic hair on his testicles about to be
caught within the scooping mechanism.
“Don’t,” Jesus begged. He managed to get his heavy balls out
of Polly’s scooper. The girl giggled. “Lie down and let’s scoop ice
cream on your dick,” Polly suggested.
“Well, I--” Jesus stammered.
“I’ll get a soft towel for you to lie on,” Polly assured him.
“Wait right here. And scoop up some balls of ice cream for me, so I
don’t have to use my fingers to dig the ice cream out of the box. Mom
always gets mad at me when I eat it like that.”
“Okay,” Jesus said. His mind was in a whirl. His cock was
rigid and he’d never gotten to show it to a real female before, just the
females in the magazines. It was quite amazing to have little Polly’s
eyes respond to every movement of his stiff, waggling cock. Whenever he
coughed, or spoke, or shifted his hips, his dick would respond, down
between his legs, jaggling about like some Indian’s spear. Yet he felt
good. It was nice to be admired, for a change, instead of always being
the guilt-ridden admirer. He hoped he wouldn’t spill his jism onto
Polly’s floor.
Polly trooped out of the kitchen and Jesus, obeying her,
scooped up a half dozen big balls of ice cream. He plopped them into
the two bowls Polly had gotten. Hopefully the girl would be satisfied
to just eat the ice cream out of the bowls, and forget about decorating
his loins with them. He reached into the refrigerator. He wanted some
chocolate syrup, if they had any. Yes, here was some, and he spied a
glass jar of butterscotch syrup too. He looked for cherries but he
didn’t see any. Perhaps her brother had already eaten them. Oh, well.
Little Polly was herself cherry, he didn’t want to be greedy.
Jesus saw someone had cut up fresh strawberries and placed them
in a bowl with cellophane over them, as if for dessert, after dinner.
Well, he wondered, they wouldn’t miss a berry or two, would they? He
pulled out the bowl. He got the cellophane off. Scrounging for snacks
at Polly’s was better than at some of his other friends’. His other
friends often controlled the food, portioning it out to him, but little
Polly seemed to put him in charge. If anything, he’d have to control
her appetites, instead of the other way round. He’d already had to talk
her out of baking him cookies.
Polly returned to the kitchen. Once again he was shocked to
see she was naked. This was unbelievable! Polly, with her blonde hair
and a nice figure that she was already developing, promised to be one of
the royal bitches on the block in a few years, the kind Jesus could
never get dates with. Yet here she was, quite nude, and quite happy to
be in his company. She fluffed open the towel and laid it neatly on the
floor.
“There! You can lie down on that. Then we’ll make a big
sundae out of your dick!” Polly told Jesus.
“Well--” Jesus began. He was looking forward to eating the
three big scoops of ice cream he’d put in a bowl for himself. He wasn’t
sure, pretty as Polly was, that he really wanted to see them dumped on
his genitals. He didn’t relish the idea of eating ice cream after it
had been put on his penis.
“Lie down,” Polly told him. She looked up at Jesus. Her eyes
were big and blue and she wasn’t quite smiling. Instead she looked
rather insistent, and she pointed with one of her small fingers directly
at the towel.
“Okay,” Jesus said. His voice sounded a little high and weak
as he submitted to Polly’s desire. He sat himself down on the towel.
It felt great under his nude butt, all fuzzy and soft, and he imagined
himself at some nudist’s colony. He gazed at little Polly’s enquiring
eyes, her head just a little above his now, and finally he lay back.
It was odd, lying on the floor. His penis stood up rock hard,
like some stalagmite rising from between his thighs.
“Spread your legs,” Polly told him. Jesus opened his thighs to
give her a complete view of himself. He felt the pressure of his legs
depart from his balls. They felt heavy between his legs. Heavy and
swollen. Polly had the right idea, having him open his legs. It wasn’t
wise for him to lie there with his legs squeezing his balls. He might
lose control of himself.
“Mmmm, now it’s time for a little ice cream,” Polly said to
Jesus. She reached up, standing on tip-toe, and pulled the box of ice
cream down from the counter. Then she saw Jesus had put the scoops he’d
made into the bowls, not leaving them in the box. She set the box aside
on the floor and reached up and brought down the bowls. “I see you want
some chocolate syrup and some butterscotch on your dick too, and some
strawberries,” Polly said to Jesus.
“Well...” Jesus said.
“Shhh! If my brother comes home he might hear us,” Polly
warned. She walked away for a moment, went to the door of the kitchen,
closed it. Jesus heard her press in the button on the door’s handle
that locked it. “There, that should give us some piracy,” Polly said.
He heard her bare feet slapping on the floor as she returned to him.
She placed a foot between his legs. She looked down at him, her belly
sticking out, her hands on her hips. Jesus felt as if he’d just been
captured and conquered by some pint-sized Amazon woman. She smiled. “I
like having you as my boyfriend,” she said to Jesus. Then she put her
other foot between his legs. He was afraid she might step on his balls,
but her small feet just barely missed doing that.
Polly sat her fat little bottom down on the towel between
Jesus’ opened legs. He felt like some woman having a gynecological
exam, with little Polly sitting nurse-like between his thighs. She
stared at his swollen cock. She touched her finger to its tip.
“Do you have to pee?” she asked. “There’s something coming out
of you.”
“No...” Jesus said. He looked down at himself. Atop his rigid
pole a drop of pre-cum had exuded from his pee slit. “All guys make
that,” Jesus said. “It’s-- it means I have to, you know...”
“Well, don’t do it here!” Polly told him. “Go to the bathroom
if you have to pee!” She seemed about to get up.
“No, I don’t have to pee--” Jesus said.
“Oh, it’s like when my brother looks at those magazines,” Polly
mused. She put a finger to her cheek. “He yanks on his thing, I think,
at least that’s what my friend Sally told me. He yanks on his thing and
then white stuff comes shooting out, all over the bathroom, and he has
to spend an hour cleaning it up!” Polly erupted in giggles. When she
finally settled down, Jesus lying nervously on the towel with her
between his legs, she eyed his penis again.
“Keep control of yourself,” Polly warned. “I’m going to make
you all tasty. But if you shoot out your naughty stuff, then you’ll
have to go to prison!”
“Yeah,” Jesus answered. He wondered if little Polly might not
benefit from some judicious punishment, to keep her from taking such an
interest in boys. But then the thought of her bare-bottomed over his
lap, receiving a little discipline, made his balls swell and he had to
dismiss the thought from his mind, lest he do just what Polly had warned
him not to.
PLOP! Without warning, though he should have known it was
coming, Jesus suddenly felt a chilly scoop of ice cream drop onto his
balls.
“Yeeooch!” Jesus exclaimed. That ice cream was cold!
Especially on his genitals. He heard Polly giggle and looked down at
the small girl, sitting between his legs.
“Your dick got even stiffer when I put ice cream on you,” Polly
told Jesus, laughing. “Here’s some more!” She picked up another scoop,
and Jesus saw she was using her fingers to do it, not bothering with the
scooper. She squished it down right over the crown of Jesus’ penis.
“Oooh!” Jesus said, a bit alarmed. He was getting a wreath of
ice cream smooshed down over his cock as the scoop, in Polly’s fingers,
was forced to permit a hole to be dug through it by the pressure of
Jesus’ upstanding organ. The scoop was shoved down over Jesus’ dick by
Polly’s small hands. When she took her fingers away Jesus saw he’d been
awarded with an ice cream doughnut around his dick.
“Does it feel cold?” Polly asked Jesus.
“Of coursse it feels cold!” Jesus hissed. He wished she’d take
it off him but, at the same time, he felt he should let her have her
way. If he intervened, he might find her over his knee, receiving a
royal spanking from him or, worse still, lying under him, her legs
forcibly spread and his cock doing her permanent harm.
“Then here’s some chocolate syrup. Sometimes my mom warms it
on the stove before putting it over our ice cream. You can pretend it’s
warm, though, since it’s not,” Polly said, in a sweet, high-pitched
voice. Jesus felt cold chocolate syrup suddenly squirt all over the
crown of his cock. It ran down the sides of his penis and coated, in
streaks, the doughnut of ice cream ringing his dick. “And now some
butterscotch too,” Polly said. She unscrewed the cap on the glass jar
that held the butterscotch syrup and poured it lavishly over Jesus’
cockhead. It coated his pee slit and then, with Polly still pouring it,
it coated his entire crown. It ran down the underside of his cock to
meet with the syrup already there.
Jesus relished the feeling of Polly anointing his cock with the
syrup. Never before had his penis been paid attention to. Always it
had just been his own hand. He’d yanked on himself, guiltily, locked
away in his room. He’d never had his dick appreciated, by a female.
He’d never dreamed it could be decorated with syrup!
Polly picked up several sliced strawberries. Happily she
dropped them, one by one, onto Jesus’ genitals. Then she licked her
lips.
“I’m getting hungry,” Polly told Jesus. “Mind if I have a
bite?”
“No... go ahead,” Jesus answered. But he felt afraid, for what
if she made him spurt?
Jesus felt hot warm breath blow across his penis. It was
Polly! He looked down at himself, just in time to feel her teeth bite
into his penis.
“Yikes!” Jesus yelped. “Don’t bite me!”
“Sally says you can eat a boy’s dick, and he can go buy
another, at the store, in the hot dog section,” Polly told Jesus.
“No! You can’t! I can’t!” Jesus said. “It just shoots stuff
and shrinks, that’s all. You can’t eat it up.”
“Hmmm,” Polly said. “Then I’ll just eat the ice cream, I
guess.” Jesus shuddered as he felt her tongue suddenly lick his shaft.
God! Such a wet little tongue! He’d never been licked before. Polly
traced the lines of chocolate syrup that had run down his cock. She bit
into a strawberry and ate it. Then she mouthed the scoop of ice cream
that ringed Jesus’ penis, and sucked some of it into her mouth.
“Yum! Um! Yum, this is good!” Polly said, through a mouthful
of ice cream. She looked happily at Jesus. She rubbed her bare belly
with her hand.
Jesus ground his teeth and prayed to Jehovah. He wasn’t sure
how much of this he could handle. His penis was stiff as a board and
throbbing mightily. He could feel his balls hugging him tightly, yet
still enormous between his thighs. One of little Polly’s fingers
prodded at his nuts. He heard her say the word ‘coconut’ but he
couldn’t respond, he was too deeply enmeshed in his own need, and his
desperate attempt to control it.
Again the licking, inquisitive little girl tongue came to
Jesus’ cock. He couldn’t believe he was lying bare-assed in somebody
else’s house, with their 8-year-old daughter nude between his legs,
attacking his cock. This wasn’t sex, it was torture! With an older
female, a woman perhaps, he might have dallied all afternoon in her bed,
but this little girl knew nothing of that, only how to play, and he
didn’t really want to shoot his hot cum all over her face. Yet she kept
licking him, and handling his balls, yes he could feel both her hands on
his testicles now, squeezing them. Why was she doing that?!
“Cum!” Polly announced to Jesus. “Cum!” Jesus realized he was
being urged to spend himself. That little devil-- did she want him
shooting off right here, in her mom’s kitchen? Well, he had a soft
towel under him, he might use it to clean up if he had to... But he’d
have to take the towel home with him. He wouldn’t be able to leave it
with Polly for her mom to wash.
“Cum!” Polly said, louder. Still squeezing Jesus’ balls, she
pursed her lips and began to blow across his dick. Who had taught her
that? Or was she just inspired? He hoped she was just inspired. A
small lick caressed the underside of his cockhead.
“Well, aren’t you going to spurt out all your stuff?” Polly
asked. There was a frown on her face. “Sally says a boy does that if
he loves a girl. Don’t you love me?”
“Polly--” Jesus stammered. “I’d have to be between your legs
and...”
“Oh! Okay,” Polly said. She crawled alongside Jesus’ body and
laid down on the floor beside him. She put her arm across his chest.
There wasn’t room for her on the towel and she was lying on the floor.
Not wanting her to have to lie on the floor, Jesus drew himself up onto
his side, lying on his hip, so she could snuggle onto the towel beside
him. She did.
“I love you,” Polly said to Jesus. He found himself gazing
into the girl’s big blue eyes. Her face was beside his. She maneuvered
herself down a little, after professing her love for him, and kissed his
chest. She touched a finger to his flat belly. She explored his navel.
With a lusty grunt, not even thinking, Jesus mounted Polly. He
pushed her fully onto her back and got himself up on top of her. He had
to be careful, lest his weight crush her. He felt her legs draw apart
beneath him and he found his thighs between hers, pressing down. His
cock was something of a problem, for he had no thought of penetrating
her, only of coming into a kind of warm embrace with her, with him lying
carefully on top. But his big penis was between them and it stabbed at
her tummy. She let out a little shout and Jesus, lifting himself, had
to be careful, lest her available slit find itself irretrievably altered
by his engorged cock.
Jesus managed to lie atop Polly with his cock pressing like an
iron bar into her soft belly. She gasped at the pressure of it. She
asked him to lift up, to get his big pressurized thing off her, but he
didn’t, and they fell to kissing instead, with her squirming a little
underneath him. Her belly was warm. Too warm. Jesus felt his cock
trapped between their bodies. He moved slightly. Not a wise idea. He
felt himself tremble and then, as Polly’s tongue licked at his chin, he
felt his jism suddenly spurt out onto her tummy.
“Oh!” Polly gasped. Jesus grunted and moved his hips sharply
forward and back, suddenly relishing his spending, and Polly’s surprise
at it. He didn’t stop his humping until all his sperm had been
ejaculated onto her bare, warm tummy.
“I’m sorry,” Jesus said. He lifted himself up to look at the
damage. A big pool of white, gooey sperm lay smeared all over his own
belly, and Polly’s. His penis, still engorged, hung like a sausage
between them. Thankfully Polly’s virgin slit had been spared. He
couldn’t imagine the consequences if he’d actually ripped into her and
taken her in her cunny.
“Will I get pregnant now?” Polly asked. There was a tear in
her eye.
“No-- you won’t,” Jesus assured her. “It’s nothing. I just
shot off on your belly, that’s all.”
“You got ice cream on me too,” Polly said. Jesus saw that all
the syrup and ice cream that Polly had used to decorate his loins had
been smooshed and smeared onto hers.
“Yeah, well, what goes around comes around,” Jesus laughed.
Polly laughed too.
“You’d better get dressed,” Polly said. “If mom comes home and
sees your slippers by the door you might get in trouble. I’m too little
to have a boyfriend.”
“Okay,” Jesus said. “But you’ve got to take a bath before your
mom comes home. You’ve got my sperm all over your belly.”
“Will Mr. Bubble get it off?” Polly asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes. IF you go take a bath,” Jesus emphasized. “Do you want
me to bathe you?”
“Oh, no! I’m too big to need someone to bathe me! I can do it
myself,” Polly assured Jesus.
“Well, make sure you get it all off, okay? Otherwise I won’t
be able to play hopscotch with you anymore,” Jesus said.
“Okay,” Polly assured him.
Jesus kissed Polly’s nose. She smiled and he kissed her lips
and she kissed him back. They lingered a moment, Jesus descending upon
Polly once more, letting his weight lie lightly upon her, feeling her
wiggling beneath him and enjoying the wetness of their genitals. At
last Jesus lifted himself up again.
“Do you mind if I take a quick shower at your house?” Jesus
asked. “I don’t think I can just put my pants back on, with ice cream
all over myself, and sperm. My mom might be sitting in the living room
when I walk in my house.”
“Okay,” Polly said. “But be quick! It’s almost seven,” Polly
said.
Jesus rose, looked at the clock on the stove.
“It’s almost six,” Jesus said.
“Oh,” Polly said, sitting up. She pushed her hair back from
her eyes. “I’m not that good at telling time yet,” she said.
Together they cleaned up in the kitchen. Polly insisted on
having a big glass of chocolate milk, leaving Jesus to do most of the
clean-up. She sat up on the counter, her small legs dangling down,
swinging her feet back and forth. She admired Jesus as he got
everything rinsed in the sink and put away. They were both still nude,
their clothes on the floor. They needed to bathe before they could
dress.
“You have a cute ass,” Polly told Jesus.
“Thanks. You do too,” Jesus said. He looked at the girl. She
was grinning at him, a big chocolate milk mustache smeared onto her
upper lip.
“We could probably go have more ice cream before we have our
bath,” Polly said.
“No-- not today,” Jesus said. “I need to get cleaned up and
out of here before your parents come home!”
“Or my brother,” Polly said, over the rim of her glass, taking
another gulp of her milk. Her voice echoed inside her glass.
“Yeah, him too,” Jesus said.
“Do you think that cat is trying to sneak back into my yard?”
Polly asked. She craned her neck, looking toward the window. Jesus
could just imagine her running around naked outside, chasing the cat,
his sperm all over her belly.
“Uh, I’ll help you defend against the cat. Let’s just get
clean, okay?” Jesus asked. He walked over to the girl and prised the
chocolate milk glass out of her fingers. He took hold of her small
body, feeling her frail ribs under his fingers. He lifted her from the
counter and set her down on the floor. Her eyes widened with pleasure
as her face dropped down to the level of his dick.
“You’re getting hard again!” Polly declared.
“Yeah-- I know,” Jesus admitted. He’d never gotten hard again
like this at home, jerking off, but with sexy little Polly still nude,
and himself nude, he felt inspired.
“Let’s lie down on the floor and do it again!” Polly said. Her
eyes were bright.
“I can’t-- there’s no time,” Jesus said. “Maybe in the bath,
if you’re good.” He took her hand. Disconsolately she let him lead her
from the kitchen, past the door, which Jesus unlocked and opened. He
took her upstairs to where her bathtub was.
“Usually I don’t have to take a bath until eight,” Polly said
to Jesus. She watched him turn on the water. It flowed lustily into
the tub.
“It’ll be fun,” Jesus said. He looked around, saw a bottle of
Mr. Bubble, and sprinkled it liberally into the churning, rising water.
He took Polly’s hand. He saw her eyes dart to his stiffened cock. He
wondered if, had he been small, she might have resisted his putting her
into the bath. But he was hard, not soft, and so she let him take her.
Together they stepped into the water. They sat down. Polly smiled up
at Jesus and felt under the bubbled surface of the water for his prick.
“Not that again,” Jesus said. He felt her small hands
caressing his cock. He desired to spend again, and had to fight the
urge. Her fingernails found his pee slit and poked at it.
“Shoot out your stuff, under the water. No one will see!”
Polly urged. She drew closer to him. She spread her legs so that she
sat with her slit almost touching the head of his cock, her legs out
beyond his waist.
“No! I can’t,” Jesus said. But Polly’s hands tugged at his
big thing urgently. Her eyes looked up at his, sparkling, inviting him
to do what he so badly wished to, all over again.
“Ah! Unh!” Jesus suddenly grunted. He felt his sperm shoot
out and, with a wild look in his eyes, realized his dick was pressed
right against Polly’s slit. He wasn’t spending into the bathwater, as
she’d urged. He was shooting his cum right into her!
“Ooooh, I can feel you,” Polly said. She urged her hips
forward and her slit bumped hard against the crown of Jesus’ cock. His
pee slit parted the lips of her slit. His cum, shooting out, went
directly into her private.
Afterwards they sat for awhile in the tub, embracing. She was
still virgin, of course, and Jesus wanted to keep her that way, but he
had violated her a little, jettisoning his load into her adjacent cunt
lips. They shared kisses and Polly told Jesus the name of her rubber
duck. It smiled from the edge of the tub. She put it in the water and
sailed it between his thighs.
They washed each other. They tried to hurry but it was a
delight, soaping each other’s nude, tanned bodies, and they took longer
than they should have.
Suddenly Jesus realized it must be almost seven.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” Jesus said. He kissed Polly on her
forehead. He rose from the tub. Her eyes watched him, loving his body
as it rose, all hairy and wet, from the foam of their shared bath.
Quickly Jesus stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel. He
towelled himself. Polly smiled at him.
“Are you done?” Jesus asked Polly.
“No, I want to play with Lucky Duckie,” Polly said. She lifted
her duck up and waved it in the air, as if it could fly. “He’s a super
duck. He keeps the cat away,” Polly said.
“Well, bye,” Jesus told her. “Try not to sit in there too
long, okay? It’s better if you get out and put your clothes back on.”
“Don’t worry,” Polly said. “Mom will be happy that I took my
bath early.”
Jesus leaned into the tub and kissed the girl once more, just
on her forehead. Then he stood erect again. He was naked. He had to
go downstairs and get his clothes. Polly cupped her hand and waved
goodbye to him, smiling a smile as pure and angelic as an angel.
“So long,” Jesus said.
“Bye, bye,” Polly replied. “Duckie says ‘bye’ too.”
“Bye, duckie,” Jesus said to her duck, to make her happy.
Polly giggled.
Jesus went downstairs. He put on his clothes. He was about to
take Polly’s clothes upstairs to her when he heard the front door open.
With a sudden spasm of terror, he ran quickly around and out of the
kitchen and into the small dining room beside the kitchen. There was a
sliding glass door there. Quickly he opened it and stepped barefoot out
onto the porch behind Polly’s house.
Just in time. Polly’s mother came into the kitchen, Jesus just
having disappeared around the side of the house.
“Polly! What are your clothes doing lying here on the floor in
the kitchen!” Polly’s mother called out. Jesus didn’t hear Polly’s
reply; he was darting down along the bushes. He saw the cat, standing
on top of the fence that separated Polly’s property from her
neighbor’s. The cat jumped down into the other yard, disappearing.
Jesus moved quickly down to the end of Polly’s front yard and crossed
out onto the street.
Someone had turned off the hose in his front yard. His mother,
Jesus guessed. He glanced at the neighbors’ drive. The puddle had
mostly evaporated, there was only a residue of dirt there. Nothing he
necessarily caused, Jesus reasoned, even though he had, of course. He
dragged the hose up into his mom’s yard and bundled it into a coil next
to the house.
Later that evening, Polly called Jesus on her Mickey Mouse
phone.
“Hi,” Polly said. “What’cha doin’?”
“I’m, uh, reading the Talmud,” Jesus answered. He was sitting
on his bed. Polly’s voice was soft in the phone.
“I’m supposed to be asleep, but I’m not sleepy,” Polly said
confidentially. “Wanna hear a tune?” Polly asked.
“Sure,” Jesus said. He wondered how Polly would play something
over her phone, without turning on a radio or CD player and letting her
parents know she was awake.
“Beep! Beep! Beep!” came suddenly across the Phone. Polly
was punching the keys of her phone, to the tune of ‘Old McDonald.’
“Clever,” Jesus thought to himself.
“Did you hear that?” Polly asked in a whisper.
“Yeah,” Jesus said.
“I like ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ better but I don’t know
how to play that,” Polly confided.
“That’s okay. I didn’t even know how to play ‘Old McDonald,’”
Jesus said, though he guessed he could manage it, if he had to, now that
he knew the trick of it.
“Can I come over to your house?” Polly asked.
“Huh?” Jesus asked. He really needed to be doing his Talmudic
lessons but the thought of little Polly lying in his bed with him did
sound exciting. And she wasn’t another man’s wife-- it wouldn’t be
violating any of the Ten Commandments for her to visit. “I-- well,”
Jesus stammered.
“No one will know,” Polly said. Her voice was high, lilting.
“Mom and dad are downstairs watching T.V. I sneak out sometimes to go
patrolling for the cat, to keep it from getting my parakeet.”
Jesus’ mom was out for the evening, dating a man. He guessed
she wouldn’t be back or, if she was, she wouldn’t be looking in on him
when she did come home, perhaps with the man accompanying her.
“Okay,” Jesus said. “But don’t get caught. I don’t want you
to get in trouble.”
“Don’t worry,” Polly said. “My mom’s real happy I took my bath
so early. Even if I did leave my clothes downstairs in the kitchen.
She says I’m going to be a nudist when I grow up.”
“Bring my slippers,” Jesus said.
“Oh, yeah. My parents thought they were my brother’s. They
said his feet must be getting weally big!” Polly giggled.
And so it was that Jesus and Polly spent the night together.
But that, perhaps, is a story better left to the reader’s imagination.
30
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