Ó2008
Hi, my name is Linda.
I was eleven when Mr. Farnsworth moved in next door. I still hadn’t had
my first period. You may ask why I
bring that up, but trust me it is germane to the story. Mr. Farnsworth. Yes, that was his name.
When he moved into the other house at the end of our cul-de-sac it
raised eyebrows, a single man, middle-aged to boot—certainly a curiosity. It was of course a big house for a solitary
person to live in.
Certainly I’m older now as
I finally tell you—or anyone—about what happened in that house that
summer. I know a lot more about things
now than I did then. I was just a kid. Since then I’ve been able to sort of ‘fill
in the blanks’ about what happened to me, and others. Based on what I know today, this is how the
unusual man took over our neighborhood—and my life.
*
* *
My mom was at the kitchen window watching the moving van and
the men unloading it. “Sorry, Linda,
but by the looks of the stuff they’re bringing in, it doesn’t appear they have
any kids.”
“It’s OK mom, I still have Danny and Pat to play with.” Yes, they were girls: my best friends
Danielle and Patricia. It would have
been nice to have another girl move in next-door, one I could be friendly with,
but I guess it wasn’t to be. Even a
boy, I thought, though I wasn’t into boys yet.
A tall, slender man, who
arrived following the moving van in a black Mercedes, was in the yard with his
arms folded like he was supervising the movers. He wore casual clothes but he still looked formal, like he
usually wore a three-piece suit. Dark
yet thinning hair framed his thin face, a face that gave no hint of his
age. My mother deemed herself to be the
one person neighborhood welcoming committee, so I knew what would happen next,
as she asked if I wanted to go outside with her to greet the newcomer.
We marched across our yard to his. My mom all smiles (like that’s what she lived for); she was
always nosey like that, but I loved her anyway! He noticed us after a while.
At first his expression belied nervousness but quickly morphed into a
warm smile. It looked genuine to
me. For some strange reason I thought he’s
a nice man.
My mom shook hands and introduced us. When he returned the favor and introduced
himself as Frederick Farnsworth, I almost giggled. It sounded like such a funny name. I looked at my mother and did a double take. She looked like she was going to faint—later
on I would know the word “swoon” and realize that’s what she did. She wouldn’t let go of his hand! It was like she was hypnotized or something.
When he turned to me and shook my hand, saying, “And nice to
meet such a lovely young lady as you, Linda.”
The combination of his touch and his unnerving gaze made my stomach do a
flip-flop as if I swallowed a hundred butterflies. My knees almost buckled.
What was this strange feeling, and was it what also got to my mom?
My mother nearly skipped back to our house, she was so
giddy. I was still confused by the
effect his touch—and his eyes—had on me.
My legs wobbled and I was unsure if I could make it to my house without
toppling over. I made it even when the
butterflies decided they still wanted to fly some more, making me quiver from
my tummy to my crotch. Especially in my
crotch. I was confused why my panties
felt so wet.
“Oh, Linda, what a NICE man he is,” my mom
gushed. I looked at her—my God, she was
blushing!
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered nonchalantly, though the
voice in my head was saying yes, he’s more than nice, and maybe I’ll go
visit him later. Another more
logical voice said it’s not like he’s one of the Jonas brothers, you
know; that voice fighting over the ‘sound’ of those butterflies.
When we got to our doorway, I said, not knowing why, “Why
don’t we invite Mr. Farnsworth over for dinner when dad gets home?”
My mom surprised me by her vehemence. “No!
No, I don’t think so.” She
blushed again. “Let’s not bother him,
er, until he gets settled in, ok? Maybe
I’ll bake him some cookies as a welcoming gift…that sounds like the thing to
do.”
Holy shit, my mom’s not exactly a baking powerhouse so where
did that come from?
Later on I caught my mother looking out a window at the
house next door, as if she was waiting anxiously for someone to come home. My dad was home from work, but mom ignored
him, keeping a strange watch on Mr. Farnsworth’s place.
After dinner, my friend Danny came over to visit. She was eerily flushed and excited about
something, but in an unusual way I couldn’t quite pinpoint. When we went to my room, she seemed to float
rather than walk. She had on a t-shirt
and it was plastered to her skin from sweat although the air wasn’t that
humid. I mean, neither one of us has
breasts yet, but her nipples must have been very stiff as they poked at the
thin cotton fabric, so I could make them out clearly. The door closed, she started telling me about where she’d been.
“Oh, Linda, you just HAVE to like meet the new man
who moved in next door to you! He’s so
nice! I was walking by his house coming
here and he was on the front steps, and he invited me in. His name is Frederick and he was so sweet, “
she rattled off non-stop.
I told her that I had met the man, and she repeated how
“dreamy” he was. Dreamy?? The old dude?
“When did you talk to him?
I thought you were coming here an hour ago.”
She looked at my bedside clock as a puzzled frown washed
across her face. “I…I don’t know…it
didn’t…it wasn’t that long ago…was it?” The frown left her and she perked up
again. “We’ve got to go over his house
tomorrow! You, Patty, and me, ok? He’s really cool!”
Remembering the butterflies and my wet panties, I knew
something wasn’t quite right with this whole Mr. Farnsworth thing, but I also
remembered how pleasant it was to shake his hand and talk with him.
*
* *
I wasn’t comfortable knocking on Mr. Farnsworth’s door, but
Danny just about dragged Pat and I along with her. She knocked. When he
answered the door he was awash with excitement to see us.
“How delightful!” He beamed. “Are you three the new Welcome Wagon?”
I had no idea what a
welcome wagon was, but since Danny and Pat were struck dumb, I spoke up. “Danny…I mean Danielle…told us she had a
nice…visit yesterday, so we decided to come over and say hello.”
“Come in, come in! I have some fantastic cookies Mrs. Hebert
down the street brought over.” He
ushered us to his sofa, where we sat still like three crows on a telephone
wire.
Out came the plate of
cookies. I figured my mom was too late
for cookies—beaten by Mrs. Hebert with her gigantic boobs—I bet she didn’t bake
‘em. They were good. As I munched on mine, I snuck glances at
Danny and Pat. Danny looked like she
was in Disney World with a private meeting with Mickey. Patty looked less rapt, but I could see her
chest rise and fall rapidly as if she was out of breath. The butterflies were back, but at least I
was breathing ok. He was an unusual
man, and we were acting so unusual around him.
He didn’t sit in the easy chair opposite the sofa but instead perched
himself on the sofa’s arm right next to me.
I hadn’t realized I finished my cookie until he offered me another. When I reached for one from the offered
plate, he brushed a couple of fingers lightly across my cheek. At his touch the room spun and I suddenly
grew warm and tingly.
“That’s a pretty top you
have on, Linda. What do they call
them?”
“Babydoll blouses, sir,” I
answered. Sir?? I fought the tunnel vision and lost. I didn’t want to pass out but I thought I
might.
“Ah, baby-dolls. That’s exactly how I would describe you
three lovely young ladies, gracing me with your presence on this hot summer
day. How delightful!” When his eyes moved from me to Patty, she
moaned. It didn’t sound like pain to
me, but pleasure. Then he stared at
Danny and she moaned louder than Pat had.
Even though my heart was
palpitating wildly, I knew I had to get out of there. “Ah, Mr. Farnsworth, I have to get home now,” I said, my voice
barely above a squeak.
“So soon?” He said. “Must you all leave so soon?”
Pat spoke up quickly,
looking over at Danielle, “Me and Danny can stay a while longer, can’t we?”
Danny nodded rapidly.
I should have been
concerned for leaving my friends alone with my strange new neighbor. However, some inner voice kept telling me it’s
ok they’re ok, he’s a nice man, everything will be fine. An hour or so later, I saw Danny and Patty
walking away from Mr. Farnsworth’s house, their clothes looking funny at that
distance but they seemed happy enough.
I shouldn’t worry.
*
* *
Something drew me to his
house the next morning. I couldn’t
explain the magnetism but that’s exactly what it felt like—I was being drawn,
attracted, summoned. I knocked on his
back door. I was surprised to find it
swing open after my second knock.
Entering his kitchen, I called out to him, though not too loud.
“Mr. Farnsworth? Are you home? Your door was open…hello…”
I heard sounds coming from
the living room where just yesterday my friends and me sat mesmerized. When I walked up to the archway separating
the two rooms, I was shocked to see a naked Mrs. Hebert having sex with Mr.
Farnsworth on that very same sofa!
After all, I did have an idea what sex was, and considering that Mrs.
Hebert was naked and bouncing on his lap, and I could see Mr. Farnsworth’s
penis go in and out of her, and she was saying things like “God this is the
best” and then “I’m cumming,” followed by a loud wail, I sure knew what they
were doing. I didn’t know why but
watching them was sort of spellbinding.
I felt all those queasy stomach feelings and the itch in my groin big
time.
I was trying to break away
from the hypnotic spell and sneak away when Mr. Farnsworth winked at me before
himself groaning that he was cumming too.
He saw me! I stood there, not
moving, like I HAD to. When they
were done Mrs. Hebert simply rolled off, and after Mr. Farnsworth stood up, she
laid down and seemed to fall asleep.
Mr. Farnsworth walked toward me putting a finger to his lips, asking me
to be quiet. Why would a naked man
walking to me and asking me to be quiet be something I should fear?
In his kitchen, he
whispered, “Well, well, Linda. How nice
of you to stop by. Mrs. Hebert and her
darling little Emma came to visit, and now you. I’m so lucky to have nice new neighbors such as you.”
I tried to look at his
face instead of his penis, all veiny-purple and wet and hanging there, but
looking into his eyes was nearly impossible and clearly was more treacherous
than staring at his manhood. “I…I…ah…I
knocked but the door was open a little…and…”
“It’s ok dear, I would
never close my door to sweet girls like you.”
“Emma is here?” I asked
after what he said finally registered.
Oh yes, she’s in the room
around the corner over there,” he pointed, “and I suppose she was watching us
as you were my dear.” He held out his
hand to take mine. I gave it to him
without question. I had to. “I hope you didn’t mind what Mrs. Hebert and
I were doing, do you? She practically
begged me, and you know…well, I believe you are too young to know about sexual
desire.”
I finally looked away from
his penis and up to his face. His eyes
burned through me, all the way to my crotch.
I didn’t know what was happening, but the voice in my head was back—It’s
safe, you’re safe, he won’t hurt you, he’s a nice man, so nice.
“I have to see Emma now
anyway. Would you like to come with
me?” He had my hand in his and led me
to the other room without resistance.
We passed the sofa upon which Mrs. Hebert was splayed out, with her legs
open and her big boobs rising and falling as she breathed, sound asleep.
When we got to the other
room, which turned out to be a bedroom, Emma was sitting on the edge of the bed
with a smile on her face reminiscent of the crazed look on Danny’s face
yesterday. Emma was eight-years-old. She was wearing a little yellow sundress and
no panties, and when Mr. Farnsworth came into the room, she livened up and
nearly squealed with delight, jumping into his arms. He tilted her back a bit in his arms so she was mostly parallel
with the floor, and lowered his head like he was going to kiss her! His mouth however didn’t go to hers but
instead went to her lower neck, close to her exposed collarbone. I couldn’t see what he was doing—a
strange place to kiss someone, I thought—but my mind never questioned her
not having panties on, or the fact that a naked man was kissing her at
all. As he kissed (?) her, Emma’s legs
would kick out and spread wide open, and I saw clear liquid seep from her bald
puss knowing somehow it wasn’t pee. She
started to moan and squeak until she was wailing much like her mother had
moments ago in the living room.
Suddenly, Mr. Farnsworth
turned away from her neck and looked back at me. Everything looked normal, he’s a nice man, smiling at me and
he likes me, as he likes Emma.
“Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”
He said. “Linda, why don’t you
get out of those clothes and cool off a bit.”
Without a single questioning thought I got undressed, finally stepping
out of my panties, totally naked watching him go back to ‘kissing’ Emma until
she was twitching and squealing again, lots more of the clear liquid leaking
from her.
He gently laid Emma on the
bed and turned to me. She looked like
she was sleeping as soundly as her mom.
Mr. Farnsworth walked to me and again I found myself staring at his penis,
which was kind of standing up stiff. He
said I was the “special one,” and wanted to “savor every moment.” I didn’t know what he meant. I simply lifted my arms to him so he could
pick me up as he’d done with Emma.
He didn’t ‘kiss’ me right
away like he’d kissed Emma. Instead he
held me in his arms; so warm, so comforting, so magnificent was the feeling of
his body on mine.
“Oh Linda, you are the
prize of this old man’s life,” he whispered in my ear, “I could smell it the
first time we met.” Smell, I
thought—what was he saying, and what was happening here? My fog-filled mind didn’t have answers. His lips brushed my earlobe as he continued
whispering, “Your blood is the fuel of a thousand ages. I could sense it…how fine you will be.” While he whispered his lips kept brushing
against my ear and a soothing inner heat swept over me like an ocean wave. I moaned.
“Ah, your moan indicates
you feel it too…my power is your power is my power.” He said, but nothing he said was really registering with me
anymore. I had an unrecognized need and
wanted it fulfilled somehow.
He laid me on his bed next
to Emma, who still slept, and lay down beside me. His hands caressed me, first letting his fingers run circles
around my surprisingly swollen nipples, then down my belly to my crotch before
lazily coming back to my belly. The
heat was ecstasy. I had no qualms, no
fear. It felt so good. He’s a nice man, nothing to be afraid of,
it will be like heaven opened up and swallowed me.
With his warm hand resting
at my tummy, he whispered again, “You’re too young to understand sexual
exhilaration, but perhaps I can prepare you for the joy, the thrill. Your blood will be thus charged for…the
taking.”
His hand slowly moved down
to my pubic bone and all of a sudden my mind was overcome with a vision of
Bobby Jenkins, the cutest boy at school, laying down on top of me and then
putting his hard penis in me. He was
having sex with me in the vision! But
the vision felt real—I felt it, heard it, tasted it—so much reality my breath
was almost sucked from me. Did I cry
out in reality, or was it just in the vision I wailed as both Mrs. Hebert and
her daughter had done earlier? “Ohhhhh
Bobby…I’m…I’m…oooooooooooooooo!”
What was real and what was
not?
I didn’t know Mr.
Farnsworth had moved over me until I felt the electric brush of his lips on my
neck just before I felt the pinprick.
That’s all it was, a faint prick like a needle at the doctor’s
office. All thought was lost. Fire!
Red-hot fire swept through me. I
felt my legs thrust wide and my back arch up, begging, begging…for what? I heard my own rapturous voice cry
“Bobby!” The image of Bobby Jenkins
temporarily swam into view and I desperately tried to wrap my legs around his
ephemeral form. To keep him close, to
keep him IN. I didn’t understand
any of it.
My next memory was the
realization I was naked in a strange bed, tingling all over, with my legs
wrapped around Mr. Farnsworth’s leg, and his erection rubbing against my
belly. I wondered if he just had sex
with me, but how was I to know what it would be like to have sex (except for
the vivid dream of Bobby Jenkins)? Mr.
Farnsworth looked into my eyes and suddenly I needed no explanation—not because
I knew, but because of the voice in my head, again—I’m special, he made me even
more special by what he did.
He whispered, “Years,
years I’ve longed for someone as strong as you…years.” He slowly extricated himself from my
grasping arms and legs, and said, “I believe darling Emma is waking up. Why don’t you spend some time with her? I also believe her mother is waking. I shall attend to her so she’ll be gone when
your mother arrives.”
My mother?
Emma smiled at me, and
said, “Hi, Linda. Did the nice man make
you feel good too?”
I looked at her neck more
closely and saw what looked like an incision about a half-inch long. Except for a very thin scab beginning to
form, it didn’t look like much. I
touched it lightly and Emma didn’t even flinch. Mr. Farnsworth came back into the bedroom now fully dressed. He helped Emma put her panties back on, then
smiled and looked at me.
“If you’d like, Linda, you
may stay here for a while and rest. You
feel warm enough?” As if those words
alone did it, a warmth permeated me from head to toe—a warmth not unlike the
feeling I had moments ago when he ‘kissed’ my neck, though not nearly as
intense. “I must explain
that…sharing…your blood with me has made me very aroused indeed, as you so
keenly noticed I was truly erect and still am.
Someone dear to you will take care of that nicely.”
He took Emma away, and
soon I heard the front door close. He
did not return to the bedroom right away, and I drifted in and out of sleep,
dreaming strange dreams for an eleven-year-old girl. After an indeterminate amount of time, I awoke, hearing sounds from
the next room that were not from conversation.
I got off the bed, wondering for a moment why I was naked, and peeked
into the living room. Mr. Farnsworth
was on the sofa having sex—on top this time—with a different woman. His butt cheeks tightened on each thrust of
his hips, as he went in and out of her.
For her part, she was saying things like, “I need this! I haven’t had a decent fuck in YEARS!” And swearing at him to “Fuck me harder, you
bastard, do me, do me gooooooooood!” At
her urging he seemed to go faster.
My mother!
I can’t remember ever
seeing her completely naked and here she was doing it with a stranger who just
moved in next door. I should have felt
bad for my dad having her cheat on him but the calming voices in my head were
doing their job and I simply watched.
Before today I had only a vague idea of sex and now I’d seen two acts in
the flesh and one in my vivid dream (Bobby Jenkins!)
Like déjà vu, while my mom
was crying she was “cumming” Mr. Farnsworth winked at me and motioned with his
hand to come to them on the sofa. I
did. I got down on my knees next to the
sofa. Mr. Farnsworth whispered “Oh
dear, this is perfect, mother and daughter both to be taken in their own
way.” Even while he still thrust his
hips he leaned over and again I felt the pinprick sensation on my lower neck.
“Oooooooooooooooooooooooooh,”
I moaned as the entire world’s butterflies took flight in my belly.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,”
he moaned as he climaxed.
My mom’s screams drowned
out both our cries of joy.
My entire body was
magma-hot and my only other sensation was of trickles of liquid running down
both thighs.
I didn’t recall anything
after that until my mom said, “Hi Linda, how nice of you to come over and visit
Frederick too.” She was dressed and
sitting primly on the sofa. I realized
I was dressed too, though my panties felt funny like they weren’t on quite
right. Mr. Farnsworth—dressed as
well—was sitting in an adjacent chair.
“Yes, it’s so pleasant to
have nice neighbors such as you two visit me like this.” He said my mom’s name and then, “We MUST do
this again.” She agreed, but to what I
didn’t think she really knew. On the
way to his door to show us out, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You
WILL come to see me tomorrow, won’t you, Linda?”
Of course I would. Such a nice man shouldn’t be lonely.
*
* *
Before I had the chance to
think about visiting him, Danny came over, ready to drag me over there. I was eager to go but she was even more
so. When I told my mom where we were
going, she gave me a dreamy look and told me to be nice to the man, and be
good. A picture of a pepperoni pizza
popped into my mind (so good! —my favorite food!) and I said, “Don’t worry mom,
I’ll be good.” Food.
Mr. Farnsworth welcomed us
in and soon we were out of our clothes and lying on both sides of him on his
big bed. He drank first from Danny
until her hips jumped and she cried out.
Her orgasm (I obviously didn’t know anything about ‘orgasms’ back then)
was impressive to watch, maybe more intense than anything I’ve had in my life
from sex. Unlike me her orgasmic liquid
didn’t just trickle out, it sort of squirted.
I wished I could do that when he took me. Then it was my turn, and in addition to ‘kissing’ my neck, he
placed a finger between the folds of my immature puss and stroked it back and
forth and around and around. I loved
that feeling better than anything in this world. Warmth spread through me as if I was being electrified. I knew I screamed like Danny had, but knew
little else.
When I became aware again,
my head was resting on his stomach looking at the head of his engorged penis
staring back at me. Danny was leaning
on him from the opposite side and she began caressing his erection. Mr. Farnsworth moaned so I knew he liked
it. I glanced toward Danny and saw the
hypnotic smile as she rubbed him.
Voices again: You can touch it too, feel its texture and warmth,
stroke its length, go ahead. I did,
palming him just below Danny’s small hand, and we stroked together. Soon we were rewarded with several sprays of
white stuff streaming from the opening at the end of his penis. I thought this must be HIS juice like
what came from Danny and I when he took us.
He said, “I need to feed
again from the best source I’ve ever found,” and then ‘kissed’ my neck
again. I never wanted that feeling to
ever, ever end.
*
* *
I went back the next day
to let him feed, and the next day and the next. Every night I would look at my reflection in the mirror at the
small incision at the lower edge of my neck near my collarbone and wonder where
it came from. I was also looking in the
mirror and admiring how much my breasts were growing lately. I mean, I actually HAD some now.
All the women on our
street would visit with nice Mr. Farnsworth whenever they could, like when
their husbands weren’t home. My mom was
no exception. I really felt bad for my
dad, but she still seemed to love him and I knew they had sex since I heard
them often pounding away at night when they though I was asleep. I began to understand more of what was
happening to me and why I was visiting him.
It wasn’t just mothers going, of course, as all the young girls in our
neighborhood spent their summer days at Mr. Farnsworth’s house.
I knew I was his
favorite. Danny, Patty, Emma and other
girls went there, but I was there everyday, all day. One day late in the summer, after he had taken me for the second
time, I muttered the one word that kept popping into my foggy yet satisfied
brain.
“Vampire?” I said.
He looked at me, smiled
and said without any condescension, “No child, I’m not a vampire in the sense
of bats and garlic and holy water and wooden stakes and all that hogwash in the
movies. Obviously, I don’t have to hide
from sunlight.” He stroked my hair as
we lay next to each other in his bed while the afternoon sun coming through the
window bathed us. “I think you already
know the main difference, Linda. I give
as much as I receive from my…what word should I use? …Partners? …Lovers? Donors seems all too unkind, I think.” He thought for a moment then continued. “There are not many like me in the
world. I don’t have fangs; I don’t
bite. I have a special organ in my
mouth that helps me feed. I drink the
serum from your blood, which nourishes me, makes me strong, and helps me live a
long life. You will not become like
me. That’s another thing best left to
movie fantasy. What you will get from
me—what you have already received—is strength and longevity you would never
have on your own, though I sense you would become a magnificent woman even
without my ‘gift’ to you.”
I knew in my heart that he
had an aura, a sexual magnetism that drew all females to him naturally. Later in life I studied the effect of
pheromones in humans, since as I grew older I noticed the effect I had on all
the men around me. I believed that
powerful pheromones gave Mr. Farnsworth his power over us, though I could never
discount some form of psychic energy.
He gave me that power—his bartered gift.
Even though long ago he’d
released me from most of his ‘hold’, I still came to him, and now I kissed
him. He had never penetrated me, yet we
were lovers. He had spoken the correct
word earlier. At eleven, this was my
first romantic kiss, and it seemed to last forever.
“I wish our time together
would last, but alas it must end,” he said sadly.
“Why?”
“You are only weeks away
from menarche, your first period as you would say, your blossoming into
womanhood. The power you have to give
me will be no longer. Such a power it is;
you are the gift, the supreme plasma of life.
Because I have fed from you my life has been extended immeasurably. Also because I have fed from you I have sped
up your development. Alas, menarche
will come early for you as it has with your friends.” He saw the questioning look on my face. He continued, “Ah, yes, Patricia and Danielle have both
menstruated. They still come to me but
the attraction is sexual intercourse, not the…other.”
I was astounded. “You mean you have sex with them?”
“No, my dearest, I do
not. I turn them away, for they, like
you, are much too young for the sacred act.
One side effect of feeding is the boost to my libido it gives me.” He laughed, “Something like taking a dozen
Viagra pills. That is why I must draw
women to me, such as your mother, or I would go crazy from arousal.
“If you have only so long
with me, why don’t you feed on me one more time before I go home?” I said, offering my neck to him. His mouth came to me, and soon my legs
kicked and my back arched up and my pussy exploded and I screamed in the
sweetest anguish ever, made better because he released his hold and I
acquiesced to his need all on my own.
*
* *
I’m sitting at my desk,
pondering how that summer changed me and defined me. Frederick Farnsworth moved away late in the fall, before I turned
eleven. One day a For Sale sign showed
up and that was it. We never saw him
again. My mom was in a funk for months. From the time I really got interested in
boys, they were both in awe of me and afraid of me, even Bobby Jenkins. I had developed early, my breasts bigger and
firmer than any of the other girls in high school. When I got my first bikini the boys at the beach fought for my
attention. It wasn’t only on the beach
I intimidated the boys, for I excelled in the classroom as well. I was valedictorian my senior year. College seemed like a breeze and before I
knew it I had an MBA and was on my way.
Law school came next.
A voice at my office door
brought me out of my daydream. “Don’t
forget your one o’clock meeting with Congressman Miller.”
I smiled, and answered
Jenny, “I never forget a meeting with HIM.”
The look on her face told
me her daydream was all about the hunky politician. She said, “I’ll call you a cab, Senator.”
Jerry Miller was sitting
at the bar when I entered the hotel.
This place wasn’t the District’s most posh hotel but then again Jerry
wasn’t looking for elegance, and neither was I. In Washington, people like us wanted to be anonymous every once
in a while.
“Hi Linda,” he said while
motioning to a seat at the bar next to him.
We kept the greetings simple and had a couple of drinks before we walked
to the elevator. Once in his room, we
ripped our clothes off and hit the bed.
After he tongued my clit for a while, he looked up into my eyes, now
opened again, and said, “Your pussy always amazes me. Damn, it’s like a ten-year-old’s, smooth and not a hair to
see. I still can’t fathom how you do
it.”
I smiled at him and told
him to stop talking and go back to licking.
No way could I explain how my vulva in fact remained exactly as a
prepubescent girl’s, another ‘gift’ from Mr. Farnsworth. Men have been worshiping at my
pre-teen-tight vagina ever since the first time I fucked anyone.
As he slowly thrust into
me, nestled between my legs, which were nicely wrapped around his exquisite
ass, he said, “No President should be as tight as you are.” Thrust.
Thrust.
I murmured, “No
President’s ever had a cunt before, and I think that’s a better place to be
tight than any asshole.”
He pumped, and we both
laughed. He was a marvelous lover and
knew how to last. Before he was going
to cum, he groaned “Get ready, Madam President…”
I whispered, “In two
years, Jerry. And you’ll be there with
me.” I groaned, “I’m there too,” and I
screamed in orgasm as he too climaxed.
I hadn’t realized until later that while I came I bit him in the neck,
drawing a little blood. His ‘gift’ ran
deep. I thought: Thank you, Mr.
Farnsworth, wherever you are.
The End
If you liked my story, e-mail me at [email protected] and let me know what you think of my writing. This was my first erotic fiction story. I hope you liked it. The rest of my stuff can be found at the Cotton Candy web site. Thank you.
Candy