("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: sari1.txt (mf, youths, 1st) Authors name: Lor Oldmannn (jamwad@hotmail.com) Story title : Sari and My Sexual Awakening -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- The Sari Saga: Sari and My Sexual Awakening by Lor Oldmannn (jamwad@hotmail.com) *** As the title suggests, it is a fanciful autobiographical account of a young boy's sexual awakening with a precocious young girl who promises to blossom into a very interesting female. *** It was the oddest kind of sexual awakening. Certainly it was not the kind of experience I had anticipated. I was thirteen, and not long started my second year at a prestigious day school for boys where, except for the occasional lavatory joke, sex was not on the immediate curriculum. The school had a reputation to uphold; it boasted a 90% record for getting boys into the universities and the upper strata of the professions. It was Friday evening, I had completed all my home assignments, and my parents, who were into this sort of thing, had organised a Halloween bonfire party. There were about thirty kids in attendance from the neighbouring village with their parents. It was fancy dress for the kids with lots of strong drink for the adults. There were the usual run-of-the-mill witches and warlocks and black sheets with demon masks. And to tell you the truth, at thirteen, I was bored with the whole thing. The hot dogs and hamburgers were fine, as was the ice cream and the trifle puddings. But there is a limit to what a growing boy can consume. There were prizes for the most original costume - which must really have made some real demands on the judges - and for gogo dancers and the half dozen games set up by dad. But as I said, I was stone cold bored. I decided to sit the remainder of the evening out on a garden lounger in one corner and watch the proceedings from there. And it was at this point that things started to happen. Six-year-old Sari Kinnis, my nearest neighbour and a kid I was really fond of, seemed to emerge from the growing darkness and climbed on to my knee. Appropriately, she was wearing a silky smooth, skin- tight, black cat costume, and seemed to curl up just like one on my lap. I could, and did, feel every curve and crack of her body. She eyed me curiously and purred, "Lor, do you think I am pretty?" "Of course you are, Sari. You are the prettiest little girl I have ever seen!" And I could say that with hand on heart. She was away ahead of anything comparable in the village. She had a bright round face with full red lips and slightly oriental eyes so dark and deep you could imagine yourself drowning in them and shoulder length shining brown hair. But the thing to make her outstanding was that she had legs so long and shapely and sensuous on top of gorgeous hips and a tight backside it seemed indecent on one so young. Sari studied me for fully a minute with those dangerous eyes, and sighed. It was an inconsequential sound. She nestled into me and instantly fell asleep. It was more than half an hour later when her parents, considerably unsteady on their feet and smelling of cider and whisky, came to relieve me of my burden. They carried her, still fast asleep, to her bedroom. They own the property next to ours, and while their main entrance is more than three hundred metres from ours, a private gate provides a shortcut from our back door to theirs. Sari uses the gate often when she uses our swimming pool or when she comes over to play me at table tennis or something of the sort. In a way, I felt an odd kind of sadness sweep over me when she was gone. Someone was playing the Brahms Waltz in A flat on our grand piano, and the music percolating through the open window seemed appropriate to my mood and gave an air of unreality to the whole situation. For the last night in October, it was unseasonably warm. I felt I could have sat out there all night listening to the recital and thinking about Sari nestled in my arms. It was almost midnight when there was a panic telephone call from Cheri Kinnis, Sari's mother. The child had fallen asleep in my arms and was well and truly put out when she woke up and I was not there. Could I come over and pacify her? Certainly, no problem! On the way over, it set me thinking! But I was totally unprepared for the new kind of situation that presented itself to me; it was like the dawning of a new age, a renaissance in my life. During the sit-out at the party in our garden, I had arrived at the door - adolescence some call it, but as soon as I entered Sari's bedroom, I had passed through the doorway, so to speak. Sari was still screaming in an uncontrollable hysteria. But what I was unprepared for was that she was wrapped up tightly in a sheet, like swaddling clothes or an Egyptian mummy's linen bandages. And she was scarlet-faced; it frightened me. There was a rope like an old-fashioned pyjama cord tied tightly around her upper arms and chest, another around her hips and a third around her legs. Only her head and her feet were exposed to view. My first reaction was to feel indignation. "It was the only way we could restrain her," Cheri explained. Her husband substantiated the claim. "She would have done herself serious injury otherwise." Sari's parents, still obviously under the influence of their earlier carousal or subsequent drug intake, had accompanied me upstairs to the bedroom. I turned to them and demanded, "Can I untie her?" I made an effort to keep the irritation from my voice. The man sniggered. "You can. If you dare!" he exclaimed. And he wheeled away and left the room. His attitude seemed to suggest that somehow Sari in this condition was my responsibility. Sari had stopped screaming. She stared accusingly at me. "You weren't there when I woke up." She sniffed a tear back. "I was afraid. I thought you had gone away!" I whispered some sweet nonsense and nibbled her ear, and started to undo the ropes and the wrapping. What greeted me underneath took my breath away; it was like a sledgehammer blow to the breadbasket. Sari was wearing a nightdress so brief that it barely covered the essentials and so translucent it revealed even the birthmark on the underside of her left collarbone, her belly button, and the dark aureoles around the tiny nipples on her chest. I had an instant erection so powerful that it hurt. I was terrified lest her mother notice it. Suddenly Cheri Kinnis said, "I don't suppose you could stay the night with her?" And I almost exploded inside. Sari's eyes sparkled. "Please!" She pleaded. "Please, Lor!" Her pleas chiseled into my libido. I can't remember the excuses I made, but they reduced the child to tears. The mother seemed to understand my predicament. She nodded. And smiled. And left the room. I lay alongside Sari on the bed. I caressed her hair back from her round face and comforted her as best I could. I told her some little white lies to explain why I couldn't sleep with her. And all the time there were volcanic eruptions taking place inside my lower abdomen. I had never been so sexually aroused before, and I was acutely sensitive to the fact that the object of this arousal was a six-year-old child! "I promised myself to wait until we were married," I said; it was a little bit of fun, but I realised it was also a serious statement of intent at that particular point in time. I doubted whether I could ever meet another person in the whole course of my life I would be attracted to more than Sari. And all this time a battle royal was taking place inside my conscience: was it right to feel this way about anyone so young? Looking back on it now, I realise that, at thirteen, I must have been a pompous little shit. Finally, when I had convinced her and she had settled down a bit, I said, "Go to the toilet, then I'll tuck you into bed properly. And tomorrow I'll play with you the whole day. I promise!" She climbed over me out of bed. She climbed over me again on the way back. She paused on top of me, and stared at me with those lethally penetrating eyes; it was as if she were trying to test the sincerity of my previous promises. I kissed her good night before leaving. I had kissed Sari several times before, in a big brother-kid sister way, but this was decidedly different. Her lips were rich and moist like that of a grown woman; her mouth was half open and the tip of her tongue brushed against my teeth. And it was at that moment I became aware that there was a wild sexual animal lurking somewhere deep, deep down inside me, and it had little in common with the school lavatory jokes. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the hands of children. They should be outside playing in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 19