____________________________ | | /)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\ / )| DIRECTORIES |( \ __( (|____________________________|) )__ ((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / ))) (\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///) \ / \ / \ _/ \_ / / / \ \ o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o o betical directories. o o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o o tertainment and should not be read by minors. o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Young Stuff 1 (Mf, ped) NIXPIX -1988 * Chapter 1 - The Approach As he hurried back toward the hotel, he looked for Debbie along the sidewalk in front of him. As he waited for a light to change, he finally spotted her standing on the opposite corner. At least he thought it was her - he wasn't expecting Debbie to be quite so 'dressed up', so he wasn't really sure it was her at first. He stared across the street at the girl. The brunette he'd spotted was wearing a blue dress with puffy short sleeves. Although the dress had a fairly modest neckline, the hem was very short, barely reaching to the middle of her thighs. She wore white stockings, black high-heels, and didn't look like she was just 16. He quickly concluded that it was Debbie and he yelled across the noisy traffic at her. "Debbie! Want a ride to the office?" he asked, waving to her. She looked up, smiled and shouted something back, but he couldn't hear what she'd said. He watched her check the traffic light and stride deliberately across the street toward him. She didn't look just 16 up close either. "Hi!" he said, as she joined him on the sidewalk. "I'm going to check-out of the hotel and get my car. Do you want a ride to the office?" He explained that her mother would meet her there later. He suspected that she was trying hard to act disinterested in being seen anywhere with someone almost her mother's age, but Debbie soon smiled and agreed to accompany him back to the hotel. They filled their two-block walk with small talk on nothing in particular, although he did manage to tell her how nice she looked. She looked damn good and he tried not to look at her too obviously, but found his eyes dropping fairly frequently to steal a glance at her legs. They were very shapely and looked terrific in white stockings. He had to remind himself repeatedly that she was only a high school junior; definitely young stuff. As they waited for the elevator in order to get to the second-floor lobby, he remembered that the last time he'd seen Debbie, he'd concluded that in an effort to look grown-up, she wore too much eye make-up. As a result, she'd looked even young- er and a little on the slutty side. He was glad she'd either changed her make-up style or had forgotten to put it on today. Her shoulder-length hair was naturally wavy and her skin was clear and smooth, adding to the illusion of her age. They en- tered the elevator and he noticed she stood closer to him than was really necessary, since there was no one else in the car. He also noticed that she smelled good. Neither said anything until the doors opened on the second floor. "Listen, I'm going to go check out and then run upstairs to pack my stuff up," he explained. "If you want, you can just wait here in the lobby and I'll meet you when I'm done." He gestured toward a small reception area in the lobby, filled with several low couches and tables. He turned and went to the front desk to settle his bill, leaving Debbie by one of the couches. When he turned from the front desk to head back to the elevator, he saw Debbie had sat down on one of the couches. The seat was so low that her knees were almost higher than her shoulders. By walking across the lobby at just the right angle, he got a decent look up her legs beneath her short dress. When he got close to her and started to walk past her, Debbie stood up and started to follow him. Somewhat startled, he stopped and looked at her quizzically. "I don't want to sit here all by myself," she said. "Can't I come upstairs with you?" "Why, sure, sure you can," he answered. "I just thought....you know, it would be boring..." "It would be boring to just watch you pack!" Debbie said. "That's why I'll help you pack." Thoroughly startled now, he stammered something incoherently and headed for the elevator with Debbie close behind. Once in the elevator, she stood even closer to him than before, until the doors opened and he led the way down the hallway to his room. As soon as he'd unlocked the door, she slipped past him and walked into his room in front of him. His eyes watched her hips sway back and forth as she moved into his room. Before he could say anything, she had walked to the dresser, pulled open a drawer, and reached into it. Fishing out a handful of clothes, she turned toward him. "Is this drawer all your dirty stuff?" she asked, holding up her hand. "Where do you want it?" "Yes, that's what it is, all right. I'll get that stuff, Deb," he replied, stepping towards her. "That's OK, I want to help," she said. She reached into the drawer again and fished out another article of clothes. "Say, these are cute..." Debbie held up a pair of 'used' jockey shorts and smiled at him. She dropped the other dirty clothes on the top of the dresser. "Really, I think they're cute! I thought older guys wore boxer shorts instead of these! I mean, I didn't mean that you were that old, but...well, you know..." "I guess I am that old..." he muttered. "No, really....I don't think you're old," she said. This time, she was the one who was slightly embarrassed. She looked at the shorts again. "Say, these have sort of a...a pouch on the front of them, don't they? I've never seen one like that before...." "Seen a lot of men's underwear, have you?" he teased, going on the offensive for no particular reason. He began stuffing his toothbrush and cologne into a travel bag. "Well," Debbie blushed, "I have seen a few pairs... "Well, they have a pouch that only well hung men need to wear..." he teased, a wide grin on his face. "You know, keeps everything neatly arranged....kind of like a bra..." Debbie eyed him for a moment before examining the jockey shorts again. She put one hand inside the underpants and filled the pouch with her fist. Holding them up closer, she tried to sniff without him noticing, but he had already noticed and was fascinated by what she was doing. "These are really cute," she said. Apparently pleased by whatever her nose had detected, she smiled at him. "You know, if you've got time...." Her voice trailed off in mid-sentence. "What's that?" he asked, tossing a pair of sandals into his suitcase. "Oh, nothing really," she said, blushing again. "I was just wondering....if you don't have to get out right away...." "Oh, come on," he groaned. He faced her with his hands on hips. "What is it?" "Well...I was sort of curious...you know, to...um," Debbie stammered nervously. "To see...how the pouch...um...works...what...um...you think is...uh...well hung..." she stammered nervously. He stared at her in disbelief. It was one thing to lust in his mind after a 16 year-old, and quite another to have the same little cream-puff asking straight-out for him to take off his pants! "It's OK!" Debbie blurted out. "I'm....uh...I'm not exact- ly...um...a virgin...and...I've seen them before, but I'd kind of like to see...what you think is 'well hung'?" He continued to stare in silence at Debbie. She was holding his underwear with both hands in front of her chest, and he noticed her sniffing at them again. "Hey, I know!" she said. "Would you like to see my bra? I'll show you my bra and then you can show me your, uh, you know, pouch. Kind of underwear for underwear! That sound fair?" His mind raced at the prospect but he called himself back to reality by recalling her age. Pretty or not, she was definitely under-age. She must have read his mind. "Look, I know I'm only 16, but I'm not a little kid! Who would believe me claiming you tried to get it on with me? How about it? Look, I'll make it easier - I'll show you my bra and then you decide, OK?" Without waiting for a response, Debbie reached behind her shoulders and popped open a few buttons on the collar of her dress. With a few small shrugs, she quickly slipped her puffy sleeves off her shoulders. Pulling one arm completely out of her dress, she easily pushed the bodice of her dress down, uncovering her bra-clad chest. The bra was cut low and made of light, silky material, leaving little to his imagination. Gazing at her, he was amazed to see how developed her tits actually were. The bra pushed her breasts together and up, creating cleavage not often seen on a girl of 16. Even so, it was obvious that Debbie was very well endowed, and the sight was not just the creation of the bra. It was a very pretty sight. "So? What do you think?" she asked, quietly. "Do you think I'm...um...pretty?" "Debbie, you're very pretty, but I don't think...." he started to protest weakly. "Oh, come on!" she frowned. "I wanted to show you my bra! Would you like to see more?" He realized with an inaudible (he hoped) choke that she was serious. Debbie reached behind her back again and quickly slipped open the back-strap of her bra. With one fluid motion, she shrugged the bra-straps off her shoulders and brought her fingers around the bottom edge of her bra beneath her armpits. With two tugs, she pulled the bra cups down, baring her developing breasts for him. He stared at the small, rosy-colored nipples which tipped each of her firm, pointed breasts. She was no longer close to gorgeous - she was gorgeous. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed and her nipples looked as though they were actu- ally beginning to harden under his gaze. "How's this?" she murmured. "I've never really just...you know, practically torn off my clothes like this before! I've been told I have a nice figure...and some guys I know like to squeeze my breasts...when I let them! What do you think?" "I think," he began, his voice very low and tight. "I think that you are a very beautiful girl. I think you have a beautiful figure. And, I think you are too young to be undressing in my room." "Really? You think I'm beautiful?" Debbie slid her hands over her breasts, covering her nipples. "I told you, I'm not exactly...a virgin. I've seen 'them' before, but I would really like to see yours..." "What does 'not exactly a virgin' mean?" he asked. She blushed and looked down at the floor for a moment, her hands motionless over her naked boobs. "Well...I...I've never actually...um...y'know, been laid..." she murmured, her voice barely audible and her hands still cover- ing her nipples. "But I don't have my...uh...'cherry' anymore." "Try that again?" He was fascinated by the girl's uninhib- ited behavior around him and her revelations about her sex life. "I've never actually been laid, but I got my 'cherry' popped..." she replied, her voice very low. "How's that?" He was in no mood to stop this conversation. "I'm not exactly sure...." Debbie began, running one hand through her hair. He stared at her uncovered nipple. "I lost it either when a boy, um, y'know, used too many fingers....or when I...I tried out...my girlfriend's...y'know...her vibrator!" "Her what?!" he blurted out in amazement. "Oh...you mean a dildo?" "Yeah. You know, a plastic thing..." "You don't know if a boy did it or your girlfriend's dildo?" --