Archive-name: Young/sambrian.txt
Archive-author: Brian Foster
Archive-title: Samantha and Brian

 
 One evening I happened to overhear an interesting discussion. 
 Neil and Suzanne are good friends of our family, and live within walking 
distance. They have three kids, Tony, Christine, and Samantha, their oldest, 
aged 8. The conversation centered around her 9th birthday which fell on that 
Saturday. On Monday her parents had to go to a business conference for a few 
days. 
 'Uh oh...' My hair went on end. Oh no, they hadn't, they couldn't, they 
mustn't... 
 They had. 
 It was her holidays, and my family had just volunteered to look after her. 
They were still working during that time of course, so that meant... 
 "Oh Brian", came Suzanne's cheerful voice, "Samantha is coming over here on 
Monday for a few days, you won't mind looking after her during the day, will 
you?" 
 I slowly lowered my book, revealing her cherubic smiling face looking my 
way. 
 "She won't take too much of your time, I promise", she said. 
 She disappeared. So that was settled. Funny that, I couldn't seem to 
remember agreeing to babysit her, but I was going to anyway. What the hell do 
they think I am??  A sucker.  Yes, that must be it. Okay. No more "Mr nice 
guy" from me at times like this! Now lets go into the lounge and decline the 
job... Yeah, right... especially since I was the only person in any position 
to do it. 
 <Sigh> 
 
 Sunday evening rolled around, and sooner rather than later she was here. 
 I'd reached page 372, and was intently studying the table of derivatives of 
inverse trig functions. 
 Personally, I'd much rather have been out exploring some filthy weta-ridden 
muddy cave out at the Waikato heads or tramping through the bush around Lake 
Waikaremoana, but such pleasures would have to wait till after exams. At 
least I had 2 hours of weight training every second night to keep my body as 
active as my mind was forced to be right now. 
 I'm the oldest (22) out of the four kids in our family, so while our 
University finals were on the others were still at school. So peace and quiet 
reigned supreme, except for the barely audible boob-tube in the lounge. A 
half eaten pizza nearby was doing a vanishing trick. Tinnies of Lion Red beer 
were waiting in the fridge immediately after this chapter. Bliss. Peace on 
earth. 
 
 The door flew open and a giggling, Angelic faced, slim, newly 9 year old 
black haired girl invaded my room and jumped onto my bed, clutching a sheaf 
of drawings she was working on. 
 "Hi, Brian!" she exclaimed. 
 "Hi Sam, what've you been up to?" 
 Study forgotten, I entertained her, chatting about the Camp she was going to 
next week. She went there last year too, and frequently recalled the swimming 
pool in the discussion. It didn't even enter my mind that she didn't 
particularly like swimming, she was a gymnastics girl. 
 That night she slept in the next room, thank goodness. 
 Next morning I'd struggled to Chapter 7 and was well on schedule for next 
weeks exam. 
 Wrong. Foolish thinking; 9am sharp it was invasion time again. 
 We went to the park and played on the swings and slides, we got back home 
and played Cards. She said she loved the maypole at her school, so I did the 
next best thing and took told of her arms to swing her around. Then I tried 
it the other way and took hold of her feet. That way, I did it slowly and not 
for long since blood rushes to the head. As I did so, I noticed I could see 
all the way up under the shorts, even the white panties covering her little 
mound... Dammit, stop perving, Brian! Jeez, haven't you got anything better 
to do??, I reminded myself 
 ... surely it was approaching midday. Wahay! 
 AAARRGHH!!! 
 It was 10am. 
 Oh dear. This was going to be a long long loooong day. 
 "Can we go to McDonalds for Lunch, Brian?" 
 McDonalds.  Images invaded my mind of that fat, stupid looking clown with 
his big, plastic, painted on smile, accompanied by all the artificial 
disneyland images designed to encourage whining, screaming brats to harass 
their parents into buying their over priced garbage. 
 And it WAS expensive. 
 
 In the late afternoon I finally got some peace. 
 "Integration by parts; for every differentiation rule there is a 
corresponding Integration..." 
 "I want to help bring in the washing", she said. 
 "Thanks Honey, that'd be a great help." 
 "Integration by parts; for every differentiation rule there is a..." 
 "Wheres the basket for the clothes?" 
 I fetched it. 
 "Integration by parts; for every..." 
 "Everythings too high, have you got something for me to stand on?" 
 I fetched a stool. 
 Click.. click... click off came the dry clothes from the line as I studied 
my calculus. 
 "Brian, could you lift me up, these are too high for me to reach?" 
 Grrrr.... 
 "Sure." 
 I took hold around her tummy and lifted her up so she could remove the small 
stuff from the line. 
 An inspiration born out of desperation came to mind. I lifted her higher 
with one arm around her waist, unclipped the shoulder straps of the overalls 
she'd put on as it cooled in the afternoon, slung them over the washing line, 
then reattached them. 
 She laughed hysterically and started kicking out, trying to escape but she 
was hanging there from the washing line. 
 Safe. Comfortable. Immobile. And most importantly; out of my way. 
 I heard the line vibrate as she struggled, trying to free herself from it 
and drop to the ground. Forget it, you ain't getting free, period. 
 
 "Brian!" Mother suddenly called out. "What do you think you're doing!!" 
 She stared in astonishment at me lazing on a deckchair while Sam struggled 
to get free from the washing line. 
 "Bloody Brians being mean to meeee!!", Samantha cried out. 
 "Mind your language, young lady", she said as she detached her from the line 
and lowered her to the ground. Sam ran over and hit me on the shoulder. 
 "Thats for tying me up there, you meanie." 
 "Thats enough, Samantha. Inside; it's time you had a bath", Mother said, 
looking at the grimy arms and legs from playing in the park. She flashed a 
look of anger in my direction as she led Sam inside. 
 No credit for taking her everywhere. Oh well, I expected no less. Such is 
life. 
 It was my turn to cook dinner, which I did after being told to kiss and make 
up to Sam for picking on her. She giggled and went back to drawing in front 
of the TV. Oh well, only another.... THREE days??  Drat! 
 Eventually I got the peace I wanted and got some serious work done before 
Sam's bedtime at 8. It was twilight outside, but the light in her room was 
already on and the door was slightly ajar. Music was playing on the radio in 
her room, so I guessed it was safe to enter to tell her it was time to get 
ready for bed. 
 
 So you can imagine my astonishment when I walked in to see her lying on the 
bed, dress lifted above her waist, her panties beside her, frantically 
masturbating. 
 It was an awesome sight, the little fingers rubbing the tight hairless 
crack, her eyes closed, concentrating almost to the exclusion of anything 
else on what she was doing. 
 Transfixed, I could only watch the beautiful sight. 
 Moments later her eyes opened and she noticed me watching inside the 
doorway. 
 The most incredible look of sheer terror crossed her face. She pulled down 
her dress, leapt off the bed and dashed past before I could stop her then 
slammed the toilet door shut behind her. 
 Luckily the rest of the family were far enough away not to hear the door 
slam and Sam bawling her eyes out in there. Obviously she thought she was 
going to be in REAL trouble, and if it had been her parents or mine that very 
likely would have been the case. 
 "Sam, it's okay, you can come out, I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm sorry 
I walked in there, I was just coming to tell you to get ready for bed." 
 Deciding it'd be better to let her calm down by herself, I left after 
making up my mind to chat with her later. 
 After half an hour she was out and back in her room again. The light was out 
and the curtains drawn, but in the trickle of light from the streetlight 
outside I could see she was hiding under the sheets. Sam visibly tensed when 
I entered, probably expecting to be told why she mustn't do things like that. 
 "It's okay Samantha", I quietly said as I leaned close, without sitting on 
her bed. I thought that would have been too parent-like instead of the 
person-to-person talk I had in mind. 
 "I know you're really embarrassed about being caught, so I just thought I'd 
tell you I don't think you were going anything wrong. Most people do the same 
thing, they just won't admit to it of course. It's quite okay and natural, 
theres nothing wrong with it. 
 You'll just have to be a little more careful in future. Since the door was 
open and music was playing I thought it'd be okay to come in. If you'd closed 
the door I'd have knocked first and you could've told me not to come in, but 
I'm really sorry I caught you at a bad time. 
 Anyway, try not to let it worry you. I'm not going to tell anyone, now or 
ever. I'm not going to ask why you were doing it, or tease you about it or 
anything like that. 
 Now, try and have a good night, Sam. I'll see you tomorrow." 
 
 "Don't go" she suddenly asked when I turned to leave. 
 "Okay if I turn the light on?" I asked. 
 "Yes, it's okay." 
 She'd uncovered her head when I turned and went to sit next to her. 
 "Feeling better now?" 
 "Did you really mean that, lots of people do it?" 
 "Yes, most people do.  I've heard it said that if someone claims they don't, 
you know they're lying", I replied, grinning. 
 "Do you?" she pointedly asked. 
 There was no point in hiding it; this was no time for false truths or 
half-lies. 
 "Yes, I do. It doesn't do any harm, though some people may say it does. 
Don't believe them." 
 "When did you start doing it?" she asked. 
 "When I was 12. I remember my first orgasm quite well. I sort of discovered 
it by accident." 
 "I started doing it last year. A friend told me how", she replied. 
 She went quiet at this point. 
 "What do you think about, when you do it?", she asked. 
 "I think about girls, just like you probably think about boys." 
 "Have you ever touched a girl?" 
 "Have your parents talked with you about these sorts of things?" 
 "No. Mum just told me what not to do, and told me to read some books about 
our bodies from the Library if I got curious." 
 "Well, it's just that I'm not sure if I should talk about it since I could 
get in real trouble with your parents. I know you're only curious and theres 
nothing wrong with that, but I just want to be careful. Can you talk with 
your Mum about it?" 
 "I'm scared to ask." 
 "I don't think she'll get annoyed if you ask when you get her alone. In a 
few years you'll be hearing all about it from other girls at school, if you 
aren't already, so you might as well hear about it properly from her. She'll 
probably be pleased you asked, in fact I'll bet she's just as scared as you 
are to ask if you want to talk about it." 
 "Could you talk to me about it?" 
 "I don't think I should." 
 "Please?" 
 "Well, okay, I can, but it's not for you to repeat to other kids, because 
they should hear about it from their parents, not from you." 
 Where do I start... ummm, okay. 
 "Do you know what boys look like without clothes on?" 
 "Yes, at the Camp last year there was this peephole between the boys and 
girls changing rooms that the boys don't know about. We watched them all the 
time." 
 My mouth dropped open. This coming from a barely nine year old girl. Not 
that I was so innocent back then, either. 
 "There used to be this peephole in my school changing room too, but the 
girls knew about it and covered it with a towel the whole time." 
 "I saw this message on a toilet at school. It said 'suck my cock'. What does 
that mean?" 
 "Well, 'cock' is another name for his penis." 
 She thought about this for a few seconds, then suddenly screwed up her face 
in disgust. 
 "Ewwwww.... YUCK!!" 
 About what I figured she'd think of the concept. 
 
 So we chatted for ages about sex. I taught her about her body, about boys 
bodies, what would start to happen to hers in a few years. Samantha readily 
agreed to my suggestion that she get out "The Body Book" at the Library the 
next day so we could go through it together. 
 
 When I got back to work, I noticed I kept re-reading the same pages without 
anything sinking in... sleep was calling. 
 I dreamt a hazy dream about my old school. The playing field, the corridors, 
the schoolrooms. Familiar and not-so-familiar faces flashed into my line of 
sight in the usual poorly defined and focussed, plotless memory. Like most of 
my dreams it was about to shift to another unconnected memory when the scene 
suddenly changed. 
 Looking up, I saw a playhouse, only it was full of stark naked girls aged 
from too-young to the 20 year old dream girls that appear on the (too) rare 
occasions sex comes into my dreams. Around me, everyone was playing and 
walking between classes, fully clothed and totally unconcerned about what was 
happening above. 
 Shocked, surprised and aroused by the sight, I almost ran up the ladder to 
the level the girls were on. I expected to be told exactly where to go, but 
they didn't take any notice of the sole male in their midst. 
 Quickly I scanned the naked girls milling around me, and decided to try my 
luck with a slim girl aged around 12. 
 I walked up to her, and asked outright if I could give her a licking. 
 "Sure", she said, and led me by the hand to a corner of the playhouse where 
a chair was. She put one leg up on the chair while I knelt in front of her 
and moved close. I could plainly smell the faint odor of her sex as I homed 
in, put one hand on the underside of her raised leg, the other on her hip, 
and planted my tongue in her hairless crack... 
 Instantly the dream faded. 
 Damn it! I tried to keep it going but failed, and woke with a raging hardon. 
The dream was so vivid that I could still smell that little girls fanny right 
in front of my nose, just like when in a dream you clutch something and 
you're sure you've brought it back from dreamworld, but of course it turns 
out you haven't. 
 It's all very well for dreams to end when they get too bad to handle, but 
why do they also have to end when they get juicy?? Don't you just hate that? 
 
 The first job that morning was taking Sam to the Library and letting her 
find the books concerned, rather than face possible funny looks from the 
librarian while getting them out myself. 
 When it came to it she wanted to read them by herself, which was fine by me. 
I told her that if she had any questions, not to be afraid to come and ask me 
about them. 
 The next few hours passed VERY quietly. She was just up the corridor, but I 
didn't hear a peep all that time. Maybe I'd just found the perfect 
babysitting technique! 
 Almost silently she entered my room a little later. 
 "Hi Brian, can I ask you a few questions? You said I could." 
 "Yes, I did. Sure, what are they, honey?" 
 "Is it true, boys can put their... things... into a girl? Thats what the 
book says." 
 "Yes, thats how babies are made." 
 "I can't even fit my finger inside, let alone one of... those." 
 "Not many girls can until they're about 12, and even then he has to be 
really gentle or it can hurt. If he is, it can feel really nice." 
 She opened one book to the pages that showed what people look like without 
clothes at various ages. 
 "Which one do you look like?" 
 "Ummm... the last one", I replied, pointing to the most developed male 
figure drawn. 
 "Can I see it?" she asked. 
 "You mean, take my clothes off?" 
 She nodded. 
 "I know you're only being curious, but I'd get in really, really, big 
trouble if people knew I'd done that." 
 "I've seen them before, it won't hurt me." 
 
 When I was her age, I wanted to see my cousin nude. Just her, nobody else. 
Of course I never did, but now I know that it wouldn't have done me any harm 
if I had. Nor would it have done any harm if she'd noticed my interest and 
shown her body to me whilst explaining all about it. And here was Sam, 
wanting to do the same thing with me. Nothing sexual whatsoever, she just 
wanted to see a male body. She'd seen naked, unsuspecting, boys and the 
drawings, and wanted to see a mans privates closer. 
 I was worried she might regret it later in life and think she'd been 
molested, then figured she wouldn't want me to unless she was ready. And she 
obviously knew the trouble I'd get into if she reported anything. 
 
 "Okay, here you go" I finally said to Samantha as I lay back on the bed, 
undid my jeans then slid them and my underpants down a little. 
 Samanthas eyes went wide. 
 I'd about decided that was enough when unexpectedly her hand moved over and 
touched me. She touched my cock and traced its length, then stopped short of 
my balls when she encountered the first pubic hairs. I was hoping she'd rub 
my balls but she obviously didn't like the crinkly, unfamiliar hair. Other 
than that, Samanthas confidence shortly increased and she took proper hold of 
my cock. 
 The soft warm hand delicately exploring it and now wrapped around it was too 
much. As much as I tried to avoid it, a hardon formed. Now I figured she'd 
definitely seen her fill, and moved to pull my pants up. 
 "No, please don't. Is that what the other girls call a 'hardon'?" 
 "Yes it is, it usually happens when a girl touches a boy." 
 Unexpectedly she got onto the bed next to me then lifted her dress above her 
waist to show her white cottontails. A thin line of untanned skin peeked out 
from beneath them, vivid against her tanned legs. 
 
 "Do you want me to take my panties down?" she asked. 
 "I'd like that, but before you do, I want to make sure you know how to say 
'no' to things you don't want." 
 "I already know how to do that." 
 "Some boys don't readily take 'no' for an answer when it comes to this sort 
of thing. Do you mind if we play a game first?" 
 "What game?" 
 "You have to say 'no' to everything I suggest." 
  A grin crossed her face. 
 "Okay." 
 With her hand where it was, it wouldn't be easy concentrating hard enough to 
do what I had in mind, but I really wanted to make sure she knew she didn't 
have to. 
 
 "Alright. You're friends with a boy, and he wants to touch you, but you 
don't want him to. He puts his hand on your knee. What do you do?" 
 "I push it off." 
 "He puts it back." 
 "I push it off, and tell him I don't want to." 
 "He tells you that if you won't let him, he won't be friends with you." 
 "I tell him I don't care." 
 Good answer. I grinned at that. Lets try something more difficult. 
 "You're with a group of friends, and they tell you that if you don't let a 
certain boy touch you, they won't be friends with you any more." 
 She thought about this, then replied. 
 "No, I won't let him." 
 "Are you Chicken or something?", I snarled. 
 "I just don't want to", she replied, refusing to be intimidated. 
 "Why not? We've all done it before, what're you afraid of?" 
 "Don't push me, or I'll find some friends who'll care about what I think." 
 10 out of 10. 
 "Good. If someone says at your age that they've done it, they're almost 
certainly lying, and even if you did to try and please them, they'd most 
likely turn around and call you a slut or something. And if the worst comes 
to the worst, you're better off alone than in bad company." 
 "Now try this one. You're sitting next to a boy on a bus, and he puts his 
hand on your knee. What do you do?" 
 "I push it off." 
 "He puts it back." 
 "I tell him not to." 
 "He ignores you." 
 That stumped her, so I dropped a hint. 
 "Say it again, but louder", I suggested. 
 "Get your hand off my knee." 
 "Louder." 
 "GET YOUR HAND OFF MY KNEE!!" 
 Wow! If that didn't do the trick if it was tried on Sam, I didn't know what 
would. I could imagine a would-be pervert, startled out of his wits, with all 
eyes upon him, jumping out of his seat and getting off at the next stop. 
 
 "Still want me to take these off?", she asked while fingering the waistband 
of her panties. 
 I nodded. 
 Down they went. Unlike me, she didn't hesitate to expose her privates. Just 
as I thought, a triangular wedge of pure creamy white skin appeared, stark 
against the brown of her legs. Briefly she lifted her knees to her chest to 
get them off completely, then the panties were discarded on the floor. 
 Samantha opened her legs slightly to let me see everything, then went back 
to touching me while I gazed at her most intimate parts. The smooth mound 
curved down to an unbelievably delicate looking crack, in the midst of which 
I could just see her inner lips tightly nestled and protected inside. 
 
 "You can touch, if you like." 
 Whilst checking her facial expression and body language in case she changed 
her mind, I started rubbing and feeling all around her lower body, her legs, 
her tummy, slowly working my way towards her crack. When after several 
minutes I finally got there she gave a low sigh of appreciation as my finger 
started rubbing her slit. 
 We settled down to seriously exploring each other. Her hand moving up and 
down my erection, barely touching, mine rubbing all around her fanny and 
mound. Things were getting hotter and hotter. Neither of us said a word as we 
touched each other. Sam slowly gained confidence and began touching my balls, 
moving them around, confirming the anatomy in the books. I took hold of her 
hand and showed her how to cup and gently rub them, and squeeze the top of my 
cock as her hand passed over it. She was fascinated by the way it moved and 
went superhard when she did that. 
 I pushed her t-shirt up to expose her nipples and the tiny swellings of baby 
fat on her chest, then bent down to kiss them as I continued feeling her down 
there. 
 By now it was obvious she wouldn't mind, so with two fingers I eased her 
cunt lips open until the tiny bud of her clitoris and the bright pink inner 
flesh appeared. The pink folds curved inward at the base of her fanny, 
indicating the way towards her obviously virginal vagina. I eased her lips 
still further open until the opening of Samanthas vagina was plainly in view, 
then moved in for a close examination while rubbing all around her crack, 
moving in circles towards the little clitoris and finally settling on rubbing 
it with a finger from one hand and massaging her upper thighs with the other. 
 When she realised I was doing what she'd started doing to herself last 
night, she took her hands off my privates then relaxed to let me do as I 
intended. 
 I paused to pull up my pants then leaned nearer so I could see everything 
closeup. Samanthas tight little crack stared back as I moved into a better 
position to pleasure her. She was getting damp, and my finger was rubbing 
easier and easier through her fanny lips. I desperately wanted to kiss and 
lick here there, and taste every corner of her dampening cunt. 
 
 "My friend told me that a boy kissed her down there, and she liked it", she 
suddenly said. "Could you do it to me?" 
 "I was just about to ask." 
 
 By means of reply, she opened her legs wider. 
 Oh god. The dream was going to come true. I lifted her legs further apart 
and moved into place between them. The sweaty odor of her fanny filled my 
nostrils as I kissed my way up her leg and around her cunt before moving in 
for the kill. 
 With two fingers I eased the lips open again until her innermost recesses 
were exposed to my gaze, then planted a kiss on her clitoris and started 
licking her crack from one end to the other. She sighed and started breathing 
heavily, which I took to mean that what I was doing was okay. Whilst rubbing her upper thighs and the area immediately around her fanny I kept up the work with my tongue, flicking the little bud of her clitoris back and forth. 
 
 "Is this okay?" I asked after a few minutes. 
 "It feels nice. Keep going if you want to." 
 "If you like, I can lick or rub almost anywhere you want. I can rub your 
bottom or put my tongue in your vagina. If you want me to try something, 
don't be afraid to ask." 
 "What you were doing was good", she said. 
 So I resumed licking her pleasure spot. 
 
 When her crack was glistening from one end to the other with my saliva, I 
moved one hand up her body till I found her nipples again, which I started 
rubbing over and around with my fingertips. Don't let appearances deceive 
you; just because little girls don't have a bust it doesn't mean their 
breasts aren't sensitive. Samanthas nipples went hard, and the remaining 
tension in her body vanished as she gave herself to my desire to pleasure 
her. 
 Every now and then I planted my mouth sideways over the entire length of her 
now very damp cunt and sucked on it, tasting increasing amounts of salty 
vaginal lubricant each time I did so. 
 
 I'd never expected to lick a hairless girl, ever. Oh, perhaps with a shaven 
woman, but never a genuinely underage girl. And here was Samantha, wriggling 
on the tip of my tongue as I ate her out like there'd be no tomorrow. 
 Slowly her crack turned from pink to dull red as the area engorged with 
blood from all the stimulation. 
 She started shifting around and moaning slightly. Guessing that she she was 
close to cumming, I lifted her legs over my shoulders. Their warmth and 
weight spurned me on to lick her cunny harder than ever till she came with a 
shudder. 
 Immediately she came, I put her legs back down onto the bed and moved up to 
hold her tight, kiss her on the cheeks, mouth and neck, and thank her for 
letting me make her feel good. She responded in kind to my kisses and hugs. 
Enthusiasm and lack of experience. hmmmm... I'd have to teach her the finer 
points and etiquette of kissing later on. It would be fun teaching her to 
kiss french style with her tongue in my mouth, but questions might be raised 
if she tried it on her parents upon their return... 
 There'd be plenty of time for such things in the coming days, I knew. 
 
 So I put her panties back onto her, then started massaging her limbs, tummy 
and head whilst whispering sweet nothings to her; surrounding her with love 
and caring. 
 Exhausted from the force of her orgasm, she shortly dozed off. I left her 
there to sleep while I prepared afternoon tea for when she woke up, then 
organised my work for the afternoon.                                  Without warning, the first sign she was awake was a loud <slurp> from the 
doorway as she tucked into a cold glass of fruit juice and the choccy bikkies 
I'd left next to her bed. Samantha was wearing a two piece bikini and was 
carrying a towel. I would have thought the tiny top was unnecessary at her 
age, but the little buttons poking out of her chest said otherwise. 
 She almost ran outside to leap into our pool while I went out to soak sun 
nearby. You could see she'd already done lots of that this summer. The long 
slim smooth legs I was between just a few hours previously were quite nicely 
browned. 
 I checked the temperature in the pool, discovering it was pleasantly warm. 
These long hot days lately had done wonders for the pool temperature, so I 
leaped in myself for a cool off and splash around. 
 Before long she got out, spread a towel on the grass, lay on her tummy and 
reached behind to undo the strap of her bikini top. 
 "Could you rub some lotion on me, Brian?" she asked. "Mums always telling me 
I'll get burned if I don't." 
 I agreed, took the bottle of sunblock and sat next to her. 
 I squeezed a gob of lotion between her shoulders and started massaging it 
in, over her arms, shoulders, back then carefully over her sides so as not to 
tickle her. The chance to give another nice massage wasn't wasted. Several 
times she said it felt nice, and asked me to keep going. 
 Another blob of lotion landed on her upper legs, making her wince again. I 
worked it into her slim but well muscled legs until they were completely 
covered. 
 
 "Brian?", Sam asked out of the blue. 
 
 "Yes?" 
 "You forgot a bit." 
 "Where?" 
 "The top of my legs." 
 "Ah.. okay..." 
 I'd scrupulously avoided there so as not to spoil the mood; not to mention 
avoiding giving some nosy neighbour reason to complain. 
 After glancing around to ensure nobody was in sight, I drew a last line of 
lotion just below her bottom and rubbed it onto her soft skin. Higher and 
higher, until I was about to reach the crotch of her bikini bottom. She 
parted her legs slightly to allow access to the last bit of exposed skin. The 
material was tight up against her most intimate parts, and had pulled up into 
her crack, outlining everything. 
 When I finally got there and rubbed against the very edge of her crotch 
band, she audibly sighed. 
 Alright, that was it. Two can tease, I thought, and rubbed the insides of 
her legs with my fingers for as long as I dared, without so much as touching 
her fanny. 'You Bastard', I could almost hear Sam thinking. 
 Now she opened her legs further and raised her bottom slightly off the 
towel, silently begging for more. Nope. What she wanted still wasn't 
forthcoming, so she turned her head to one side and stared up into my eyes 
for several long seconds, the meaning obvious. Not yet, you randy little 
girl, you'll have to wait. I continued slowly rubbing all around her 
privates. 
 Just before I reckoned she'd start giving direct orders, I stopped teasing. 
A hand slipped inward and two fingers came to rest firmly on the material 
covering her crack. Her head shot up from the towel and she exhaled a long 
breath. My fingers remained still, so little by little she slipped backwards 
to press them harder into her crotch. 
 Another good look around to make sure nobody was in sight. 
 "You're overdressed", I whispered, then pulled her bikini bottom down just 
enough to uncover her bottom. The band clung momentarily between her legs 
then popped free. In this brilliant sunshine, the exposed white bottom 
contrasting shockingly against her tanned legs and back. 
 She shivered and looked up from the towel, checking as I had that nobody was 
nearby. 
 "I just looked, nobodys around. Lie back and leave the rest to me." 
 She did as I suggested, and I pushed her legs apart until the material of 
her bikini was stretched tight. Now my hand was rubbing her glistening crack. 
Bright pink flesh was exposed as a finger worked its way into her fanny and 
began stroking her clitoris. 
 Sam raised her head off the towel again and groaned loudly. Too loudly. 
 "Shhhh..." I implored her. 
 Sam quietened enough to continue, but then I heard footsteps walking up the 
neighbours driveway. Reluctantly I withdrew and pulled her bikini bottom up 
again. She'd heard it too, and didn't move or object. Trying to bring her off 
out here in the sun was dangerous enough as it was. 
 
 We didn't mention what we'd done as we got back to chatting, and when she 
got tired in the warm sun I got off the deckchair to let her take over and 
snooze in the sun while I watched over her. 
 
 The afternoon passed quietly. I did some more swimming then settled to 
tanning my all too pale body. 
 Looking at her, I got to thinking; what would she look like when she became 
older? But just from looking at photos it's well-nigh impossible to guess. 
The face can be predicted fairly well, but the rest would depend on how she 
looked after her body. 
 
 That line of thought got me wondering; had I been thinking of her or myself 
when I gave oral sex to her? Would the short term pleasure now, hurt her in 
the long term? Theres no doubt that forcing oneself upon an unwilling person 
hurts, badly. 
 But at what point does sexual experimentation and education become sexual 
exploitation? Telling children about it when they display curiosity and 
giggliness about vaguely sexual pictures, or when they ask pointed questions? 
Letting them know what the human body looks like unclothed? Were the latter 
illegal, naturalist camps would vanish overnight. What about letting children 
indulge in their natural curiosity and actually touching? The resulting 
charge is "allowing a minor to perform an indecent act". Or teaching them all 
about sex and how pleasurable it is within a loving relationship? Regardless 
of circumstances, this results in a plethora of charges lumping it together 
with real abuse. Carnal knowledge, allowing an indecent act, unlawful sexual 
connection... the list is endless. 
 
 I've never heard of a child hurt by entering into fully consenting sexual 
activity. Confused, maybe. Aware, yes. But leading a life burdened with the 
hell of abuse, no. 
 I feel the trouble is defining 'consent' in a way easily interpreted by law. 
Likely, one of the reasons such things were banned outright was to avoid the 
obnoxious situation of a scummy lawyer arguing that a child who displayed all 
the "no" body language but didn't verbally refuse unwanted contact was 
actually saying "yes". 
 At the same time, I felt such an abuser was all the more wrong, for being so 
narrow minded as to ignore the obvious body language and/or the crying when 
they enter their victims bedroom, yet thinking their victim is saying "yes" 
because they can't verbally say "no". Additionally, Victims often 'split' 
from the abuse in order to survive, and hence act normally the rest of the 
time towards the person who hurts them so badly. 
 I've heard that 75% of the resulting stresses are the result of societal 
pressure. Not to say that sexual abuse doesn't exist, far from it. I just 
wonder who the abuser is, in cases where consent is obviously there and the 
child knows their consent can be withdrawn at any time. 
 
 How many times have we heard about the innocent young girl, enjoying what 
she was doing, telling a friend about it, who promises not to say anything. 
Word "somehow" gets out, and the girl is forced by peer pressure to save face 
and name by recanting and changing her views. The experience becomes more and 
more abhorrent because of the looks of pity and disgust directed at her. 
 That, and being forced to give evidence in court against relatives or 
friends was hardly likely to help. I've heard that many such youngsters grow 
up troubled and often commit suicide later on because of these pressures 
placed on them. 
 
 But emotional and physical pain aren't restricted to children. 
 I used to cringe at the stories I heard about girls enduring pain, 
discomfort and being left with emotional scars from first times at the hands 
of equally inexperienced or conquest-seeking and manipulating lovers; all 
that anticipation replaced with painful reality. Not surprisingly they often 
regret their decision fullstop, and I often wondered why it had to be so. 
 Not anymore. 
 If only families were allowed to teach the finer points of sex to their 
children, it seems so preventable. 
 What is so wrong with educating our children in sex? To teach or show what 
sex could be, instead of what it shouldn't? To involve all the little details 
of anatomy, position, smell and touch, so they aren't so damned ignorant? And 
whats wrong with teaching them from love? Instead of lust and desire. I feel 
it's almost essential for youth to read "dirty" books to learn about 
subtleties like foreplay, or even the concept of non-penetrative sex. 
 But who wants to risk the wrath of the law, or worse, the righteous 
indignation of their neighbours? So we're obliged to throw our kids into the 
sexual arena with a "be good now" warning that doesn't work, and the cycle 
repeats itself. They have to be incredibly lucky to find a caring lover the 
first time under these circumstances. 
 Apart from the scantest details of the biological functions and appearance 
of the human body, Samanthas books said nothing about the details of sex. 
They almost seemed religious, discussing nothing except the role of sex in 
procreation. 
 It was as if Children shouldn't know about the pleasures, as that *might* 
lead to, *-gasp-*, experimentation. Children aren't stupid, we only wish they 
were. If they knew what it was all about, they wouldn't be desperate to 
experiment. I feel that knowledgeable children are more likely to refuse 
casual sex, knowing that it's far better within a stable, caring, long term 
relationship so they're not going to end up hurt. And that the ideal place 
for learning about such things is within a caring family unit. 
 And we thought we were past the hangovers of the Victorian ages. Ha! 
 
 Years ago there was a Scandanavian community where relatives would very 
gently introduce children to sex. By reports, none could be described in any 
way as hurt, and they were mature and knowledgeable beyond their years. Not 
to mention, very unlikely to fall prey to abusers. 
 Then the Authorities discovered what was going on and stepped in to arrest 
the Adults. I wonder how those children are faring these days, as a result of 
the latter. 
 If either party have sexual relations against their will, thats abuse. If 
either feels uncomfortable or bad about it, it shouldn't take place. But I 
don't think that it has to be bad or uncomfortable, nor does it have to have 
the abusive as part of the relationship. 
 Ideally, if the child is always asked for permission prior to even the most 
innocent touching of their private parts, ie: for washing, they'll have a 
fair idea of what consent is about. 
 
 
 Damn, it was three-thirty. Time to stop procrastinating and get the jobs 
done before the folks come home. 
 I peeled the spuds, got some meat out for dinner, and was chopping up the 
Onions. In moments my eyes were watering. I was glad it wasn't me cooking 
tonight. Whats on the boob-tube I wondered; oh, thats right. There was some 
good movie tonight, now what was it... 
 
 Samantha was standing next to me. 
 
 "Hi, was it okay out there?", I asked. 
 My voice trailed away. She was standing there with a big grin on her face. 
The only item of clothing she had on was her bikini top. Her mound and crack 
were just begging to be rubbed, kissed and licked all over again. 
 "Would you like me to do again what I did earlier?" 
 "After teasing me like you did out there, I think you'd better." 
 I teased YOU?? Look who's talking. But what the heck... Whatever you say, 
Sam. 
 
 I reached down to caress her tummy as she stood there, and moved in to kiss 
her neck and whisper into her ear how good I was going to make her feel. 
Gingerly I fondled her soft round little white bottom with one hand, whilst 
circling down to her fanny and pushing a finger between her legs with the 
other. I found her clitoris and began slowly rubbing it as she turned her 
head to return my kisses. Surprise, surprise; she'd even brushed her teeth 
before coming into the kitchen. 
 Rubbing her clitoris wasn't easy this way, so I got her to lean forward 
against the bench with her legs further open. Both hands returned to their 
former position. Fingers edged between her legs from both sides. Promptly 
they dipped into her wetness and slid through the damp little crack until 
they met somewhere between her legs. 
 Shortly I was rubbing both fingers in and out between her legs and through 
the depths of her fanny, massaging and stimulating the full length of her 
crack while Sam stood there, head tilted back, mouth agape, breathing 
heavily. 
 
 That was it, I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted so badly to lick her out. 
Okay, how would we do it this time... in the lounge I decided. I led her in 
there and lay back on the couch, then directed her to kneel with one leg on, 
the other off the couch so she was straddling my face. 
 When she was positioned I opened her fanny wide. Immediately my tongue 
dipped into her sweet, sensitive pinkness and started licking her fanny while 
the other hand rubbed her bottom and all around her privates. 
 Slowly she relaxed, and little by little allowed her entire weight to rest 
on my face; which as you can imagine wasn't much. Samantha kept shifting her 
weight from one leg to the other, which made things difficult as I kept 
having to adjust my position to keep up. Finally I bade her to keep still. 
 She was even wetter than a few hours previously, and it looked like she was 
going to come harder than before. My tongue and fingers were sliding through 
her dampness more and more readily. I averted my eyes for a moment and 
spotted Samantha looking down at me with the most amazing look of pure lust 
over her swollen nipples, still covered with the tiny top. I didn't think it 
was possible for someone to look so sex-starved as she did. 
 Pulling her fanny lips open wider, the opening of her vagina was exposed 
again. Gingerly I put my index finger against the opening and eased it in. 
She tensed, but it slowly entered the tight hole. 
 "Does that hurt?" I asked from somewhere between her legs. 
 "I'd tell you if it was", came the confident reply. 
 So in it went. Carefully, taking my time, my finger edged in past the first 
joint and halfway to the next. I circled it around inside then settled to 
pushing it in and out, gradually easing further and further inside her tight 
wet vagina. Little resistance marred it's progress, until she suddenly asked 
me to stop just past the second joint. 
 She was starting to move around again, and this time I knew it was because 
she was close. Out came the finger, which audibly popped free from her virgin 
hole. I got her rocking back and forth to help my tongue lash her clitoris. 
Before much longer she trembled, tilted her head back, groaned loudly, then 
tensed and lifted herself off my face and stayed there until she'd come down 
from her high. I watched as her fanny lips, freed from the attention of my 
spreading, probing fingers, closed tightly over her pink flesh once more. 
 Then it was over, and she climbed off. As before, I hugged and held her, 
kissed her and rubbed her back. 
 Idly I regarded the finger that had been inside her vagina. The first thing 
ever to enter Sams vagina, probably because during nervous self-explorations 
she hadn't gotten the juices flowing enough first. Then I licked it clean of 
her juices. 
 
 "Yuck!  You know where thats been!" she exclaimed, grimacing. 
 By means of reply, I wiped my finger through her crack then licked it clean 
again. 
 "Oh, don't be gross!" she said as she closed her legs to prevent me having 
another helping. 
 
 I took the chance to teach her the finer points and etiquette of kissing. 
She liked the idea of driving her tongue as far into my mouth as she could, 
which drives me wild. She remained more or less nude the whole time, which I 
didn't mind in the least as I dress the same way when alone; in other words, 
not at all. Mmmm... I feel tingles just remembering it, holding her against 
me, her tongue in my mouth, our arms around each other. 
 This was the time to tell her about the minor role of sex in relationships, 
to wait till she was really sure of her future lover before allowing him 
access to her body, that she should feel free to say "no" at any time, and if 
she felt she didn't have that choice then the only real choice for her peace 
of mind was to leave the relationship. 
 
 All good things come to an end, and my parents car pulling into the driveway 
was the signal for Sam to dash to her room and return more respectably 
dressed. 
 
 Seated at the dinner table, my mind kept drifting back to our furtive 
encounters. I really liked being touched, and she didn't mind either, but she 
really didn't like the hair. Sure, she'd get used to it when she grew her 
own, but since it was so unfamiliar it wasn't really surprising she didn't 
like it. When my own pubes started to grow, like many kids do I hacked mine 
off with scissors, only to be left with unbearable scratching and itching 
which rapidly convinced me it wasn't such a good idea. 
 If it was okay and sexually desirable for women to shave their pubic hair, I 
didn't see anything wrong with a male doing the same. Also, it wasn't like I 
was at school and had to conform in every way. So as soon as the dishes were 
done, I locked myself in the bathroom, applied soap to my pubic hair then set 
to work with a clean razor. Starting at the top and working down, while 
taking care to keep the skin tight. When every hair was gone, I ran the razor 
over my balls, barely touching them, until they too were smooth. Then I ran a 
piece of Ice over the shaved parts as I'd heard it reduces the initial 
irritation. The irritation would end after a week so long as I maintained it 
every 2-3 days in the shower from now on. 
 Finally I shook the towel out onto the lawn then put it in the wash. 
 
 The rest of the evening was spent with the family, catching up on gossip and 
news. We received a phone call from Sams parents in Wellington, who asked how 
she was getting on. Sam talked briefly with them before I was called to the 
phone. 
 "How are your studies getting on?", Suzanne asked. 
 "Good, very good in fact, thanks." 
 "Is little Samantha behaving herself?" 
 "She certainly is, no complaints at all. I'm keeping her occupied, as Mum 
can testify. Sam was having a rest till they came home." 
 "Has she been hassling you for McDonalds?" 
 "Well, now that you mention it..." 
 "Thats thanks to her cousin, who introduced it to her." 
 "Ahhh... so thats it. No, she hasn't been asking, much." 
 "Well don't worry, we'll be back tomorrow afternoon, so you'll have your 
peace again." 
 "It's okay, Sam's been a pleasure to look after. She hasn't been any trouble 
at all, really." 
 "Well, thank you Brian. If we need another babysitter for a few hours or 
days we'll know who to ask." 
 Goody! 
 They chatted briefly to my parents before signing off. 
 
 I needed an early night, and departed shortly after Sam. 
 Before long, Sleep was fast approaching. The familiar drowsiness and 
reluctance to move a muscle told me I'd soon be dreaming about Samantha. 
 The loud creak from the opening door said I wouldn't be dreaming about her. 
In the dim light I saw the door open then a small figure that had to be Sam 
stealthily entered. 
 
 "Can I get in?" she asked. 
 Without a word I opened the top sheet. She climbed into bed and cuddled up 
next to me. 
 "You can't stay, you know that?" 
 "Yes, it's just for now", she replied. Next thing I knew, her hand was on my 
crotch. 
 "Can I touch?" she asked. 
 Bit late to ask. 
 "If I can do the same?" 
 The hand vanished, I heard movement then it returned to it's former 
position. 
 I pulled my underpants down a bit. She took hold of my cock and started 
feeling me up. Within moments a hardon was forming, swelling in her hand. 
When it was fully erect, she moved down towards my balls. Where coarse hair 
had been, there was now only smooth skin. 
 "What happened to the hair?" she suddenly asked. 
 "I shaved it off. Do you like it?" 
 She whispered that she did, and that it felt better as she continued 
touching where I loved being touched. 
 Now I was feeling my way gingerly up her smooth legs. The skin became hotter 
and hotter the higher I went. She'd lifted her nightgown above her waist, and 
when I reached her fanny I placed my hand over the entire pubic region. She 
moaned her approval into my ear. 
 Unseen but mere inches away in the near pitch black, I heard Samanthas 
breathing getting louder. She made sounds of approval as I slowly rubbed her 
crack. 
 
 "How do boys make themselves feel good?" she asked out of the blue. 
 "They start off doing what you're doing, to get hard." 
 "And then?" 
 "Let me show you", I said. I found her hand and placed it near the top of my 
cock, had her grip tightly then got her started on slowly masturbating me. I 
showed her the sensitive parts of my cock and how to stimulate them. A few 
times I corrected her hold and technique till she had it spot on. 
 With her soft hand milking my cock I soon got close to cumming. As much as I 
wanted to come in her hand and over her fingers I didn't think she'd like 
that one little bit, so I asked her to stop. 
 "Why?" she asked. 
 "I'm just about to come." 
 "Whats wrong with that?" 
 "It'll make a mess, and I don't think you'd like it anyway." 
 "You mean your milk would spurt out?" 
 "That wasn't in your books. How do you know about that?" 
 "My friend told me about it." 
 "She knows an awful lot about these sorts of things. First how to make 
yourself feel good, then about where to lick a girl, and now this." 
 
 Silence. 
 
 "Can you keep a secret?" 
 "You know I can. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." 
 
 Pause. 
 
 "It wasn't my friend, it was my sister. She told me how to make myself feel 
good. And I watched her do it to her boyfriend without her knowing." 
 "Everything?" 
 "No, she won't let him put it in her, I heard her say. What happened was, he 
licks her down there like you did to me, and then she makes him feel good 
with her hand. Once they didn't close the door properly, and I watched them. 
I saw the milky stuff come out and cover her hand." 
 "What did you think of it?" 
 "I liked watching it. Can I do the same?" 
 "Maybe tomorrow, not now. Mum would wonder why if I wash the sheets so soon 
after I changed my bed." 
 
 We started to relax and fall asleep together. Then she began shifting 
around and changing position.                                                                                       
 "Can we move to my bed? Mine is more comfortable", she asked. 
 "Okay. But I'll have to go back to my own bedroom before the others wake 
up." 
 
 I checked the corridor was empty, then we snuck into her bedroom. She 
climbed into her bed and I followed suit. We snuggled up together. 
 She leaned over and kissed my cheek. I turned and returned the kiss, pecking 
her lips, as my free arm went around her shoulders to cuddle her. She reached 
up and held my hand. Full contact with her lips followed. Then 
tongue-in-mouth, down to her neck, the side of the neck, and finally where 
the neck meets the shoulder, taking extra care not to leave any marks. She 
giggled madly when I sucked there. Louder still, when I nibbled her ears and 
blew into them. When I withdrew she attempted the same, smothering my face 
and neck. I loved it. 
 Meanwhile, my wandering hand was working its way up her legs again, circling 
and massaging past her thighs until I reached her pubic mound. Her face was 
inches from mine, and I could plainly hear every breath she took. It was 
becoming laboured, her breath on my ear warmer as my fingers edged between 
her legs and began fondling there. 
 
 "Brian?" she asked. 
 
 "Is it okay?" 
 "Could you finish off what you were doing earlier?", she implored. 
 "Mouth or fingers?" 
 "Fingers." 
 I lifted the leg nearest me and put it over my stomach to open her wide, 
then back between her legs went my hand. I rubbed all around her babysoft 
warm crack, occasionally slipping a finger along it's length. When she was 
good and wet I parted her cunt lips with one hand and began rubbing her 
little hard clitoris. 
 Immediately she tightened her grip on my hand and moaned. The longer I kept 
it up, the harder her grip became. Now my fingers were sliding back and forth 
through her crack and over her clitoris, lubricated by the juices emanating 
from inside her. 
 Without warning she tensed, gripped my arm really hard and closed her legs 
tightly. A low, stifled groan left her throat as she came. 
 She relaxed. There was a long silence. 
 
 "Thank you for doing that, Brian", she whispered into my ear. 
 I kissed her again. 
 
 Soon we started to fall asleep together. I was heading that way faster than 
she was, and felt the familiar calm overtaking me. 
 But what was that just touching my ear? Something was crawling over it. A 
moth? I swatted away Samanthas hand. 
 "Just checking to see if you're asleep", she said. 
 I was too far gone to reply, and soon nodded off. 
 I woke with a jolt to the same crawling sensation on my ear. 
 "Just checking to see if you're asleep", her voice came out of the dark. 
 "I was till then." 
 
 When she finally did nod off into dreamworld, I discovered another reason 
why adults don't sleep with kids. They move around LOTS. Whilst completely 
unaware of what they're doing, they kick, they slap, they knee you in the 
side, then they push you out of bed. 
 Barely an hour after climbing in with her I was back in my room. 
 
 Dawn. The red twilight glow woke me before the chattering around the 
breakfast table did. Thanks to that volcano in the Philippines we get nice 
sunrises and sunsets these days. 
 And it was shopping day. Being home and all, guess who was volunteered? Moi. 
I hate shopping. 
 I rose, showered then dressed and joined the family for breakfast. 
 
 "So, he's back, is he?" Dad asked. 
 "And where did you go off to last night?", my sister Christine asked. 
 "Huh?" 
 "Mum wanted to hand you the shopping list in case we left before you out out 
of bed, but you'd snuck out without saying", she continued. 
 Her facial expression changed to a smile. 
 "Oh, I see", she continued. "He went out on a date and didn't want us to 
know." 
 Huh? 
 One by one, everyone else broke out in smiles. 
 "Know what? I don't know what you're talking about." 
 "I think you do", she said. 
 Giggles from all around. What the hell was going on here? I even looked 
behind me in case someone was playing a silly joke. 
 "Should we let him out of his misery?" she asked. 
 That little bitch. She always liked being the master of ceremonies. 
 "Naaaahhh..." Mum answered. "He'll work it out." 
 I seriously thought this was all planned out in advance as a joke. 
 Not until after they'd gone to school and work, did I discover the reason 
for the mirth. I passed the hallway mirror, and something struck me as a 
little odd. The red smears on my neck. 
 
 SAMANTHA!!!!! In my haste I'd let her give me the biggest hickie of all 
time!  
 "We're going shopping after your breakfast, Sam. After that, would you like 
to go out?  A park, a movie...?" I suggested. 
 "Yes please!" she excitedly replied. 
 "Good, I could do with a break from this stuff", I indicated with a sweep of 
my hand the maths notes spread out on the floor. 
 "What'll we go and see?" 
 "How about 'The Little Mermaid'?" I suggested. 
 "Thats supposed to be good. Okay." 
 
 Her facial expression changed. 
 
 "Eeeeewwww... whats that on your neck?" she asked. Suddenly she clicked. 
 "Brians got a Love bite!", she taunted. 
 Grrrr... 
 "Brians got a Love bite!" 
 
 "Are your feet ticklish?" I asked. 
 "YES!" she loudly replied, her eyes wide, desperately hoping I wasn't about 
to put her to the test. 
 Kids are too honest, thats their problem. In a flash I'd wrestled her to the 
ground, sat on her legs then started tickling her feet. 
 Instantly she was in hysterics. I gave her about 15 seconds worth then 
paused. 
 "Are you sorry for teasing me yet?" 
 "YES!", she shrieked. 
 "No you're not." 
 I started on her sides. Now that got a good reaction. I'd thought tickling 
her feet was fun. Heh heh. 
 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!" she yelled. 
 "You will be, after THIS", I said as I made a beeline for her armpits. 
 She shrieked. 
 "Look, what are you yelling for??  I haven't started there yet." 
 "NOOOOOOOO!!!" 
 Yes.  Tickles. 
 Another pause. 
 "Weeeelll.... should I stop or not?" 
 "YEEEEESS!!" 
 I sat there looking at her, my hands under her arms, hers trying to pull 
mine away. 
 "Yeah, you do look kinda sorry now, I suppose I'd better let you go", I 
finally said. 
 Just to be nasty, I pulled up her shirt and blew a raspberry on her tummy 
before letting her up. 
 
 "Brians got a Love bite!" echoed in my ear as she ran for her room. 
 It'll keep. 
 
 Soon she re-emerged, but with a difference. She was naked. Not that I minded 
in the least, but not right now. 
 "Ummm, hadn't you better put some clothes on?" I suggested. 
 "Why?" she succinctly replied. Well, that was true. It wasn't like there was 
anyone to bother her, and I do the same thing when alone. 
 
 My will to ignore her and get on with work vanished when she started doing 
her gymnastic stretching exercises in the lounge, in front of me, still 
completely naked. I paused to watch. 
 In the years since school I'd lost much of my flexibility, and could hardly 
believe my eyes watching Sam casually doing the "splits" on the carpet, then 
bending sideways to touch her toes. She stood, and slipped back down with her 
legs moving apart in front and behind until they were flat against the 
carpet. Then once more she bent forward till she could kiss her leg, a 
marvellous display of flexibility. 
 
 "Could you help me?" she asked. 
 "... Sure... What do you want me to do?" 
 "Help me hold my leg up. At the gym we help each other in some of our 
stretching exercises." 
 
 The first such exercise involved her standing up and raising one leg until 
it was against her chest while I held it there for ten seconds. Then we 
repeated the effort with the other leg. For another exercise, she sat 
cross-legged on the floor and had me push her knees to the ground. 
 I could hardly fail to get a good look at her little pussy, the lips often 
parting with the stretching, but I didn't know if she simply preferred nudity 
for her workout in case it was easier, so I tried my best to not get an 
erection. 
 
 "I'll bet you don't dress this way at your school gym." 
 "No, only at home. It's easier and theres less sweat and smell." 
 I could see the point there. In ancient Greece most sport was nude, in fact 
nudity was far more accepted and commonplace. Someone once calculated that if 
modern athletes were allowed to compete while nude, all sporting records 
would shortly be broken. Take a tennis player for example. Along with 
clothes, s/he needs a sweatband otherwise salty sweat will irritate their 
eyes. Without clothes, cooling would be less of a problem, hence less sweat, 
and no band needed. 
 "What exercises do you do in the gym?" she asked when we'd finished. 
 "Shall I show you?" 
 "Yes, alright." 
 "Lie on the floor on your back." 
 "Promise you're not going to tickle me." 
 "I promise I won't tickle you." 
 She lay down and I pushed my arms under her back. 
 
 "Why don't you take your clothes off first, you silly!" she protested. 
 
 So I shed my clothes and pushed my hands underneath. She jerked, thinking I 
was going to tickle. I reassured her I wasn't. 
 "Keep still now. Trust me, okay? I won't drop you." 
 One hand was positioned on the middle of her back just above her bottom, the 
other just below her shoulders. The center of balance of the human body is 
around the small of the back, so my stronger arm was nearest her bottom. 
 "Now let your legs relax when I lift you." 
 She did, and I lifted her off the floor, past my shoulders and toward the 
ceiling. Easy! She shrieked as she found herself looking closeup at the 
ceiling. 
 "Stay still, I won't drop you." 
 Back down to eye height. 
 "Okay?" I asked, looking into her eyes. She nodded. 
 20 times in a row I lifted her before my arms got tired. Sam found being 
used as a bar-bell a novel experience, and giggled throughout once she got 
used to it. 
 "Is that what you do at the gym?" she asked when I set her down. 
 "More or less, with variations, some of which are supposed to strengthen you 
but don't seem to give much except pain." 
 
 She soon wandered off, and I got back to work. In an hour I'd give myself a 
break, get dressed and take Sam to the Supermarket. 
 Sam returned, and sat next to me. Then her hand slipped under my books, 
edging toward... 
 
 I stopped studying, and looked at her with a grin on my face. Her smug look 
met mine. 
 "Thats rude, you know", I pointed out. 
 She giggled, and her hand began creeping up my leg. 
 I was trying to order my cock to behave and not go hard, but it wouldn't 
obey. No hiding it from Sam, she placed her hand directly on my cock and 
began fondling. 
 "Can I finish what I started last night?" 
 "You're sure?" 
 "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to." 
 Study forgotten, I pushed my books aside and joined her on the same sofa I'd 
eaten her out on yesterday. 
 "It looks much nicer without hair", she commented as she started feeling me 
up again. By now I was fully hard. 
 "Just start doing what you were doing last night. Keep touching my balls 
with one hand while you pull on my rod." 
 She happily obliged, and before long was giving an enthusiastic handjob. A 
few times I corrected her hold and got her to rub the head of my cock with 
the palm of her free hand. 
 I was approaching the brink of orgasm. 
 "You can stop now if you don't want to see the rest. I'm just about to 
come." 
 "I want to see it. I want to see it ALL, like my sister does." 
 The last thing I looked at before I came was her soft untanned pubic mound, 
then at her hand furiously wanking my cock, then her unblinking eyes intently 
watching my privates. The first spurt of hot come landed on my chest. She 
shrieked and her eyes went wide, but she didn't stop. The next few covered 
her little hand as I groaned loudly. She was giggling almost as much as when 
I'd been tickling her. 
 "Keep going.... now slow right down, thats it... get every last drop out... 
You can stop now, just hold it for awhile." 
 
 "Did that hurt?" she asked when we'd calmed down. 
 "It couldn't have felt better, thanks." 
 "It sounded like it hurt." 
 "Believe me, it felt good, Sam." 
 "My sisters boyfriend wasn't like that." 
 "It's been a long time since somebody did it for me, thats why it was real 
good." 
 "Do guys always look like that?" 
 "Often, yes. So do you." 
 "I DO NOT!!", she protested loudly, letting go of my cock like a hot coal. 
It plopped down onto the mess on my stomach. 
 "Oh yes you do!" 
 "NO I DON'T!" 
 Rather than risk upsetting her, I let her have her way. Besides, how could I 
prove my point? 
 
 "Can we have McDonalds for Lunch again?" she asked, grinning. 
 "Where did you learn that trick?" I replied. 
 "What trick?" 
 "Your sister? Did she tell you to milk a guy then ask for what you want 
while he feels good?" 
 "No, but I'll have to remember that." 
 
 Oh dear. What HAVE I just taught her?? 
 
 I had a quick shower to clean off the sweat and sperm, especially as I 
hadn't had my morning shower yet. 
 Now I learned another fact of nature. Elephants never forget, and neither 
does Samantha. 
 The shower door jerked open, and a cupful of freezing water splashed over me 
in the midst of the nice hot water. 
 "AAARRGGHHHH!!" 
 "Thats for tickling me earlier." 
 Hey, neat! I love a bit of fire in a girl.  God, I almost pitied her future 
boyfriend, he was going to have to work hard to keep up! 
 
 Shopping. I hate it. Kids love pushing trolleys around and Sam was no 
exception, so that made it a little more bearable. She'd chosen to wear one 
of those skintight shorts a lot of girls do these days; naturally it outlined 
her round soft little bottom and her long slim legs. I like them better than 
schoolgirl dresses, less left to the imagination.... Back to reality, Brian. 
Stop perving on Sam, you've work to do, the little voice in my head was 
saying. 
 
 The aisles passed slowly. The queue at checkout was even slower. Why do 
people have to shop on Thursdays? Everyone shops Thursdays. But no, it HAD to 
be done today, Mum had said. 
 
 I couldn't wait to get out of that place and back to my Car. We unloaded the 
goodies and packed them away before driving to the early session of "The 
little Mermaid". 
 It was a neat movie! I'd love to have had a girlfriend to watch it with, but 
I'm yet to meet my future Mrs Foster. But there was no hurry, it'd happen. 
 Like they say, when you least expect it, expect it. That'd proven very true 
in Sams case, but it wasn't QUITE what I'd had in mind... 
 Sam was really enthusiastic about it, and for a treat I even took her to her 
beloved Chuckdonalds for lunch again. That was the very least I could do, 
after she'd made my naughtiest dreams come true. It was just a pity this was 
our last afternoon alone. 
 
 Back home again, we chatted further about the arrangement her sister and 
boyfriend had, taking care of each others tension in a safe, pregnancy worry 
free and enjoyable way whenever they needed it, and she suggested the same. I 
promptly agreed. 
 I told her that someday I'd have a girlfriend closer to my own age, but I 
wouldn't forget her. When we could, I'd be more than than happy to relieve 
her "tension" until she found a partner. She agreed. 
 
 "Could we start now?" she asked. 
 "You mean, make you feel good?" 
 She nodded. 
 "Ok. Wait here. Don't take your clothes off yet." 
 This would be the last time for awhile I'd get to eat her out, so it had to 
be special. I grabbed my sheepskin blanket and Christines (What she didn't 
know wouldn't bother darling little sis), the pillow off my bed and both of 
hers, and a towel. Then I spotted something that was REALLY going to make my 
day... and brought it along wrapped up in a sheepskin so Sam wouldn't see it 
till too late. 
 Quickly I set everything up on the Dining table while Sam watched. 
Sheepskins went down first, then the towel. A pillow for her head and the 
other two for arm rests. 
 Sam was watching the proceedings, and now it was her turn. 
 I completely undressed Sam in the lounge one item at a time, rubbing her 
nipples as the shirt came off, then putting my hand into her undies to feel 
her up before removing them too. 
 Now I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to the inpromptu bed on 
the dinner table and arranged her on it. I lifted her legs open and spread 
them as wide as possible before setting to work with the tongue and fingers 
in her crack... 
 Long minutes later she was nearing another orgasm. 
 When I sensed she was about to come, I reached down and found the Polaroid 
camera where I'd left it. Now came the tricky part. I pulled back as she 
started cumming, taking care to leave a hand on her privates as she closed 
her legs tightly. Her head tilted back as she groaned loudly. Now. Aim, 
Focus, and... <FLASH> 
 
 Jolted out of her stupor, she stared in amazement as I pulled the polaroid 
from the Camera. 
 "Don't worry, I'm just proving something to you. I'll destroy the photo in a 
minute." 
 When sufficient time had passed, I removed the backing and gave the photo to 
Sam, who was sitting up on the edge of the table. 
 The photo was amazing! Her legs were closed over my hand with my fingers 
reaching up to caress her mound, while her facial expression could be 
interpreted as a look of either agony or extreme pleasure. Yet another reason 
not to keep it, but now I'd proven my point to Samantha. 
 
 "There you go. You see, you look just like I did", I pointed out. 
 She shook her head in amazement and studied it for a long time before 
handing the photo back. Out came the box of matches. The photo and it's 
backing quickly disappeared in an ashtray. 
 Sam looked thoughtful. 
 "Could you take more photos of me, rude ones I mean?" 
 "We could, there are more photos left in the camera, but you know we 
couldn't keep them." 
 We discussed the details for awhile, and she agreed to put her top and dress 
on to do a slow strip for the Camera. 
 
 We started off with her sitting on the couch looking innocent. <Click> She 
held her dress up to show her white panties. <Click>. Standing up with the 
dress held right up. <Click> Panties and t-shirt only. <Click> A closeup of 
her crotch with her hand in her panties. <Click> Panties partway down, just 
enough to show the top of her crack. <Click> Kneeling on the floor over the 
couch reading a book, innocently showing her round white bottom and the thin 
slit of her fanny. <Click> Same position, but she's looking around as I 
fondled her bottom. Panties still partway down, but she's standing with her 
legs apart, stretching the material. <Click> Standing there naked from the 
waist down, legs held wide. <Click> Moving in for an extreme closeup of her 
crack. <Click> Completely naked now, standing with a grin on her face. 
<Click> Sitting on the couch with her long smooth legs held wide open. 
<Click> She's holding her vagina lips open, displaying the innermost pink 
recesses to the camera. <Click> Now she's grinning at me over the Carnation 
I'd inserted into her vagina. <Click> Still in the same position, but now 
with my tongue deep in her crack and a relaxed look on her face. This last 
photo took 4 attempts to get right, considering I had to hold the Camera 
behind my head. 
 When I'd finished giving her another juicy orgasm, we examined the photos at 
our leisure. Back and forth went the photos as we admired our handiwork, 
until it was nearing time for my family to return. 
 Reluctantly I put a match to them. Keep just one?? Nope. Take no chances. 
This was evidence that would send us both literally to hell. They reduced to 
ashes, which I tipped onto the lawn and stamped on. Not even identifiable 
ashes. 
 
 
 Sooner rather than later her time here ended. 
 Luckily she lived nearby, so copying her sisters arrangement wasn't a 
problem. We just had to be careful that she actually brought some work over 
for me to help her with. Sometimes we actually got around to looking at it; 
after giving her little fanny the licking she craved. 
 
 Eventually I finished my degree and got a job in the Lands and Survey 
department with the Cartographers. You'd be amazed how often maps have to be 
corrected. Even in these days of satellite photos, the publicly available 
ones only go down to a hundred yards resolution. Finer details require 
on-situ work. Some skilled trampers regularly report corrections required in 
the position of huts, creeks and so on. Usually a surveyor would be posted, 
which meant long days working in pairs out in the middle of nowhere. This 
desirable aspect of the work is rotated, so before long I was back in the big 
smoke, in the mapmaking dept where the HARD work is done. 
 
 And Samantha was growing up. The first tiny tufts of pubic hair and the 
subtle transformation of pre-teen buds to tiny breasts took me by surprise. 
She didn't like the new hair at all, and as I half expected her to try, she 
attacked it with scissors only to have it return together with maddening 
itching. I saw the reddened mound where she'd been scratching and reassured 
her it was perfectly normal and that she'd get used to it, but she wished it 
didn't have to be that way. Month by month I watched the hair expand to cover 
more and more of her crack. 
 By now she'd long gotten used to my finger inside her. She quite liked the 
feeling of it probing her gooey vagina while I licked her clit. Just before 
she came I could insert a second finger without discomfort, producing faint 
squishy noises, the sound of sex, as they emerging coated with vaginal 
lubricant. 
 It wouldn't be long before she could fit 'something larger', but I'd decided 
that wasn't for me as I wanted her to be proud to be virgin. Also, the 
earlier a girl starts having intercourse, the higher the risk of cervical 
cancer in later years. If I took pleasure that way now, it might just end up 
taking her life in the long term. Uh huh, no way. 
 
 To make things different for both of us, I kept introducing variations. One 
time I got her to kneel astride the bed, then lifted her dress, pulled her 
panties aside and licked her to a juicy orgasm without removing any item of 
clothing. 
 A few times I helped her into a handstand position for a short time. 
Naturally her dress fell away, and I pulled her panties aside for more of the 
same. 
 
 I always loved sucking, licking and rubbing her nipples, even before she 
developed breasts. They'd stiffen and go erect from the attention. I'd take 
ages about it, which she liked. 
 "Why do you like mine so much?", she asked one day. 
 "What do you mean?" 
 "Mine aren't big like girls are supposed to have." 
 "Says who?" 
 "All the models you see have big ones." 
 "Now hold on, Sam. You're only 11. Don't try comparing yourself to grown up 
women, there isn't a comparison. Yours may or may not grow as large as others 
when you get older, theres no way to tell. Be proud of what you are, 
regardless of what anyone may say. Don't try to be something you're not. No 
matter how big or small they'll end up, I'll still think you're beautiful and 
so will lots of other guys. And no matter what size, they'll still be 
sensitive and we'll both still like me touching them." 
 While talking, I was rubbing both nipples with my palms. The cool air and 
the stimulation was puckering her nipples into little raised bumps. 
 "See what I mean?" 
 She smiled. Point proven. 
 I pulled up her dress. 
 
 When she was 11 and started going to Intermediate, she discovered the 'joys' 
of Homework. Maths and the sciences were her worst subjects and she hated 
having so much of it clogging up her time; which made regular visits to our 
house a necessity. 
 And I discovered the joys of schoolgirl uniforms. Or rather, taking them 
off. Just inside my bedroom door would be her shoes, schoolbag and jersey. A 
step closer to the bed would be her panties, and on the bed itself would be 
Samantha, schoolgirl dress above her waist, shirt buttons undone, my tongue 
and fingers frantically exploring and probing her wet crack. 
 Afterwards I'd put her panties back onto her and watch the damp spot spread 
across the crotch. A few times I decided to be a little kinky and pocket them 
instead, then accompany her home with only the dress covering her privates, 
and push the panties into her schoolbag when we reached her house. 
 
 On the rare occasions when Sam and I had plenty of time and didn't have to 
worry about noise, I played little games while we made love. 
 For instance, one day as she was splayed on the bed while I ate her out, she 
suddenly did something she'd never done before, when she leaned over and 
grabbed my erect cock, still covered by my jeans. 
 "Take them off, I want to hold it." 
 "Not now." 
 "Why not?" 
 "That'd be rude." 
 She burst out laughing. 
 "Don't be Silly!!", she said, hitting my arm. 
 "Yuk!" I responded. 
 "What?" 
 "It's horrible." 
 "What is?" 
 "Theres a wet spot here. I'll have to get a towel and dry it off." 
 "What? Oh..." 
 She clicked, and hit my arm again, harder than last time. 
 "Don't be horrible!", she said, grinning. 
 I stopped licking and fingering her. 
 "Come on!" 
 I didn't move. 
 "Stop being horrible!!" 
 Whatever you say, Sam. Back to licking her fanny. 
 My free hand wandered up to the buds on her chest and began rubbing and 
fondling all around, then it slipped down to her side and started tickling. 
 She slapped it away. 
 "Don't be horrible any more, or I won't make you spurt!", she finally 
threatened. 
 Time to behave. 
 
 "You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" I said another such time when she 
came to me for a good licking. 
 "No I haven't!" she protested. 
 "Over my knee, Sam", I said as I pulled her toward the bed. 
 I bent her over my knee, lifted her dress and pulled her panties down to the 
knees. Now I started teasing, rubbing around her exposed fanny before 
penetrating the slit and rubbing her clitoris. My free hand alternated 
between holding her firmly in this position and fondling her soft round 
little bottom. 
 "You're a bad girl, aren't you?" 
 "NO!" (giggles) 
 (Smack!) went my hand lightly on one little bare buttock. She shrieked and 
kicked madly when I briefly tickled her sides. 
 "YES!", she tried. (louder giggles) 
 (Smack!) went my hand on the other buttock. 
 "I said yes, but you spanked me anyway!" 
 (Smack!) 
 "And thats for being rude. You don't even have panties on." 
 Mad giggling. 
 I withdrew my fingers and reached underneath to approach her slit from the 
front of her body, so I didn't accidentally jab my finger into her clitoris 
from the back. From my perspective I could see wetness spreading to mat her 
pubes and lubricate my finger, which was half buried lengthwise in her crack. 
The flesh around my finger was moulding to accompany it as I pressed on her 
sensitive clit and swirled around to explore every part of her crevice and 
reveal bright pink innermost skin. 
 She moaned softly as she started to feel really good. 
 "Are you going to be a good girl from now on?" 
 "NO!" 
 (Smack!) 
 "You can talk. I can feel your hardon against my tummy." 
 (Smack!) (Smack!) (Smack!) (Smack!) 
 "You're not supposed to know about such things." 
 "You taught me." 
 "You watched those boys through the peephole at school." 
 (Smack!) 
 Now my fingers were flying through the damp folds of her fanny, lubricated 
by copious vaginal juices. The erect clitoris was being rubbed incessantly 
and you could see the results; she was panting and shifting her weight around 
on my knee as she neared an orgasm. 
 "This is the kind of spanking I wish I'd gotten when I was naughty," she 
commented. 
 (Smack!) 
 "You said it, not me", I replied. 
 etc. 
 Before long the combination of mild humiliation and clitoral stimulation 
made her come harder than she'd done for a long time. 
 
 Just as I'd warned Sam, one day I met a very suitable girl closer to my age, 
and Karen and I became engaged a year later. Not long after then, our 
relationship developed to the point it wasn't necessary for Sam to 'take 
care' of my needs any more, but I was still more than happy to take care of 
hers until she found a partner for herself. 
 
 One day after Sam and I had made love and were cuddling on the bed, her 
little hard breasts poking into my bare chest as she lay on me, she told me 
that she was being teased in the school changing room about the hairs growing 
under her arms. 
 I said that that was one thing she'd have to get used to taking care of, and 
if she liked I could show... 
 A brainwave hit me. She still hadn't accepted the rest of the new hair on 
her body, and I suggested shaving it all off until she could do it for 
herself. She promptly agreed. 
 A few nudist parents shave both their boys and girls pubes and underarms to 
reduce the shock and embarrassment of the resulting changes and help them 
through adolescence, and I don't see any harm in it so long as the kids are 
happy to have it done. Of the two, I find underarms trickier. I got fed up of 
hairs being caught up and yanked by some weight exercises at the gym, and 
started taking care of them rather than put up with it. The hairs grow in 3 
different directions on two sides as you hold you arm up, so shaving there is 
a minor skill in itself. 
 From the bathroom I grabbed a fresh towel, my razor, Dads beard trimmer, 
liquid soap, a cloth and a cup of warm water. 
 I opened the towel on my bed and directed Samantha to lie on it with her 
legs open. 
 
 "Say goodbye to all that hair", I said as I switched on the beard trimmer. 
Starting at the top and working across, I shaved the still incompletely 
formed triangle. Then right down between her legs, nuzzling up to her cunt 
lips, not leaving a single hair. Hair fell in a continuous stream to 
accumulate on the towel. 
 And that wasn't all I was doing. I hadn't reckoned on the effect of the 
vibrations all round her privates. The newly re-exposed lips glistened with 
moistness. 
 Using a corner of the towel I wiped away the loose strands, leaving Sams 
mound and fanny as bare as the day I'd first seen her. 
 But not bare enough. The trimmer left bristles, and I wanted smooth skin 
like mine. 
 So I soaped her mound and all around her fanny, then set to work with the 
razor. Whilst holding tight the skin I was working on, I started at the top 
of her mound and moved down. Totally smooth skin was left behind, not even 
baby fluff. When I reached her crack I had to take hold of one side of her 
lips to keep the skin tight, thereby opening her very damp little crack to my 
attention. 
 Now I got her to flip over onto her stomach and similarly shaved right up to 
her little rosebud anus. 
 Finished. I dried her skin for her. Samantha's privates looked just like 
when I'd first seen them years before. Smooth. Young. Wet and willing. The 
look of surprise and delight on her face when she checked my handiwork made 
it all worthwhile. She didn't find a single hair or bristle. 
 Last was her underarms. I had to be really careful to avoid any finger 
contact as I knew that tickled her like crazy. 
 
 Samantha had reason to visit every two or three days; the perfect compromise 
between irritating the sensitive skin by shaving her genital area too often, 
and the hairs getting scratchy on my lips and chin. 
 For convenience I shave myself in the shower, but I only once ever managed 
this with Sam; climbing in and kneeling in front of her, soaping up her 
privates and shaving them as she leaned back against the wall for support 
while I held one leg high to allow access to every nook and cranny. 
 
 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
 
 After whats happened these last few years, I don't have any more fantasies. 
 
 They all came true. 
 
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