("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `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 -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. 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. -------------------------------------------------------- Linnie's Spider by Johnnycake (johnnycake3110@hotmail.com) *** A man helps a 13-year-old neighbor girl out of an especially frightening situation when her parents are away and he finds himself accidentally (?) comforting her in an erotic way. (M/f-teen, ped, voy, mast) *** I had known Linnie, 13 at the time of this incident, since she was six and her parents moved next door to my wife and me. She was an only child and quickly adopted us as Uncle Johnny and Aunt Edy. During that seven years, Edy and I had watched her grow into a beautiful young woman. She was intelligent and athletic and popular at school and, by all accounts, a good girl. She also was beautiful and alluring in a wide-eyed innocent, uninhibited way. Although what happened between Linnie and me on that August afternoon in 1985 (when I was 40) didn't exactly amount to sex, it was the most sexually erotic event of my life and I have relived it many, many times in my mind ... each time playing out various "what-if" scenarios. The prelude to the incident occurred on a Friday. That was the day I drove Linnie's parents to the airport, about an hour away from our homes, at the start of their week-long business trip. Linnie, who came along for the ride, was only going to be alone for one night because her dad's sister, Sallyl, was scheduled to arrive on Saturday to babysit. On the way home from the airport, with Linnie sitting in the passenger seat, she turned on the radio to her favorite station, and we alternately chatted and rode in silence; ours had always been a very easy, natural relationship. I was, after all, her beloved "Uncle" Johnny. In the car, she fidgeted a little in her seat during the trip and, in the process, her short little lightweight skirt did some intriguing gymnastics against her tanned young thighs. I succeeded in ignoring the activities of her skirt and thighs for a while, keeping my eyes basically on the road, until she leaned back into the wedge formed by the seatback and the passenger-side door -- and adopted an immodest cross-legged position. The position, coupled with the fact that her skirt had ridden up considerably displayed the crotch of her pale blue panties. I noticed. She noticed me noticing. She giggled and made a casual attempt to cover herself. The attempt wasn't too successful, and she giggled again. It didn't seem to bother her that her underwear was showing. She knew I had seen her in bikini bathing suits many times over the years. Giggle. "Oops. Sorry." "It's okay." "These are new. Mom bought them yesterday." Linnie lifted the hem of her skirt and displayed the entire front of her panties. I glanced over, let my eyes linger for a polite second or two, then turned back to the road. "You like?" I swallowed, not sure I could speak around the lump in my throat. "Absolutely," I croaked. "What are those? Little..." "...Dolphins," she said. Although I was watching the road, my mind's eye was still focused on the pale fabric covering the innocent 13-year-old crotch beside me. Within easy arm's reach. No, you asshole, I reproached myself for what I was thinking. Not in a million years. "Cute, hon," I said with a hopefully parental smile, trying to sound clinical and disinterested. "She got me a yellow pair and a pink pair, too. They're at home. You know what else? A bra to match. Three bras. I've got the blue one on." Although this was way more information than I needed, I was soaking up every word, clinging to a hope for more. And got it. "Here. See?" She had undone two buttons of her blouse and peeled it back just enough to expose the cups of her new bra. More dolphins. Part of me was pleased she was comfortable showing Uncle Johnny her underthings. Most of me, however, was excited by viewing a young woman's intimate parts. From that point until we arrived at our houses, Linnie's chatter continued as if the peep show had not occurred. For me, however, the show was etched into my brain forever. At about 9 a.m. the next day, I took a phone call from Linnie's dad. When I heard Tim's voice, my heart stopped for several seconds: Had Linnie told them about what happened on the drive from the airport? But no, Tim called to ask me to go next door and remove a spider from Linnie's neck. "A what?" "Spider. She called us this morning, and I guess there's a spider stuck on the back of her neck and she can't get it off. Hell, I don't know. Would you just go over and check it out? Sally'll be there by tonight and she can take over." "Sure," I said, not understanding the spider thing at all. "I'll go right over." I left a note for Edy, who already had left to go shopping, and walked over to Linnie's house, knocked on the back door, and let myself in. "Hey," I hallooed. "Lin." "Up here." I followed the sound of her voice and made my way up the stairs. "Where?" I said from the top of the stairs. "Here." I went to the upstairs bathroom and looked in. The light was on and Linnie was standing there looking frightened. She was wearing a different skirt and a tank top. "I'm sorry, Uncle Johnny. I just hate these things and it's stuck on me." Her hands were pressing her abdomen. "It's okay, honey. Let me see." Brave Uncle Johnny was on the scene now. I was expecting to examine the back of her neck. "No. It's not there. I, well, I kind of lied to Daddy." "Oh." I looked into her eyes. I hoped the look was kind and understanding. "Well, let's..." "It's not a spider. It's a tick." "Oh, okay. I do ticks, too." I was trying to be comforting. Having owned dogs and having lived in tick country for many years, I was accustomed to removing the little critters from dogs AND humans. "Let's look." "And it isn't on my neck. I was afraid if I told Daddy the truth, he wouldn't let you come take it off." "Oh." My mind raced. "It's under my, my underwear." Oh. My. God. I swallowed. "Well, hey, I know. Let me call Aunt Edy and she..." "Please, Uncle Johnny, can't you just get rid of it right now? It's giving me the creeps and I'm trying not to freak out." The huge sigh I heard was mine. "Okay. Well, maybe you should lie down then?" I guided her into her bedroom and watched as she lay on her twin bed adorned with a Hello Kitty comforter. I was feeling extremely weird. And lecherous. And excited. And I was trying to be Uncle Johnny, MD. Linnie folded her hands under her breasts and stared at the ceiling while I proceeded. I knelt beside the bed and lifted the hem of her skirt. "Is it in front?" I asked, aware that my voice sounded thready. "Uh-huh." Great, I thought. Well, her daddy said it was okay. Of course, her daddy thinks it's a spider on her neck, not a tick under her panties. When the hem had cleared the elastic waistband of her panties – pink with dolphins today – I patted the skirt, now bunched around her waist, as if bidding it to stay put. As I placed my fingers on the elastic of her panties, I said, "I'm just gonna slip these down a little. Okay?" Linnie nodded. Slowly, I slid the panties down a ways, hoping the tick was just below the waistband. But no luck. I pulled the garment down further, further, further, until I had exposed a beautiful triangular patch of soft, smooth 13-year-old pubic hair at her crotch. And there was the tick, at practically the center of the triangle. I lowered my head to inspect the tick. It took all my concentration to remember that I wasn't here to get turned on by what I was seeing and doing. My nose was treated to the delightfully pungent scent of young womanhood. "Sugar, I need to get closer and touch it to see what's going on. Is that okay?" Linnie nodded at the ceiling. I slid my fingers carefully through golden silk and touched the tick. It's head was imbedded in Linnie's flesh – which is what ticks do – but it didn't seem to have been there very long. I could tell that because it hadn't yet become swollen with Linnie's blood. Still, it would require a tick-removal procedure involving Vaseline and tweezers. "Be right back, sweetie," I said, pulling her panties back up and lowering her skirt. I went to the bathroom, rummaged around, and found a jar of Vaseline, a pair of tweezers, and a tube of antibiotic. The purpose of a coating of Vaseline is to suffocate the tick, forcing it to release it's "hold" on its prey. Ticks breathe through their bodies, enabling them to bury their heads in their victims. Once they release their hold, ticks can be easily removed with tweezers or, sometimes, with fingers. To pull a tick out without first forcing it to release risks leaving the tick's head in the victim, which could lead to serious infection. Once back in Linnie's bedroom, I knelt beside her again, lifting her skirt and lowering her panties. I imagined her wearing the pink bra to match. "Lin, I'm gonna put some of this." I showed her the jar – "on Mr. Tick, and then wait a few seconds and then take him out. I'm gonna have to touch you there, though. Is that okay?" "Uh-huh. Please, I just want it gone." I inserted my forefinger into the jar and came up with a small dollop of Vaseline. My evil twin allowed my pinky to gather a little of the jelly-like substance, too. With fingers of both hands, I parted Linnie's fleece and gently placed the dollop onto the tick, making sure I covered its tiny body thoroughly. In the process, it was my un-uncle-like delight to touch the tender, intimate area which the fleece covered. And I allowed my Vaseline coated pinky to seek out and come to rest against the top of Linnie's vaginal slit, as if by accident. This action brought about a mild reaction from Linnie. She might have raised her hips slightly to meet my pinky's touch, or to increase the pressure against it. Or was it my imagination? I left my pinky where it was, resting against the top of her vagina. Was it my imagination that I pressed it slightly more firmly against her slit? What was NOT my imagination was the increase in the scent of her womanhood that was making its way into my nostrils. Removing the tick was simple. I placed my face three or four inches from the area – all the better to see the tick, of course – parted Linnie's pubic fleece, made sure no hair would be pulled by the tweezers, grasped the tick's body with the tweezers, and tugged. Linnie jerked at the tug, but the tick, head and all, was out. "It, it's gone?" "Yes, hon. All gone." I wrapped the tick's body in tissue for disposal later. "You okay?" "I'm, yes, I'm..." Linnie surprised me then by grasping my hand and pressing my palm against the area where the tick had been, allowing my fingers to overlap onto the lips of her vagina. "Stay there for a minute? It feels good when you're there." She kept up the pressure against my fingers and palm. "Maybe we should put some ointment on you, Lin." The tips of my fingers were becoming wet from the lush moisture seeping from her slit. "In a minute, okay?" She adjusted the position of my hand so more of my fingers extended into her slit. She was very wet and very open. "Linnie..." I knew this was wrong. "Stay please... I... please." I stayed. She was holding my hand in place – with nearly half the length of two of my fingers in her vagina – and she was raising and lowering her hips in a universal rhythm. "Uncle Johnny... do you know...?" Her eyes locked with mine. I sighed heavily. "I know, sweetheart." With her free hand, Linnie desperately, frantically pushed her tank top up and then pushed her bra cups up and began caressing first one nipple then the other. Her look implored me. "Am I bad, Uncle Johnny? Am I bad?" She reached for my head and pulled it to her breasts. In the seconds before my lips found her left nipple, I said, "No, sugar, you are definitely not bad." She pressed my head against first one nipple and then the other, while I kissed them, circled them with my tongue, and nipped at them with my teeth. Linnie started squirming in earnest and arched her back against the pleasures she was receiving. "I'm so close... I can't help it... is it... okay?" I smiled. God, I loved that girl. "It's totally okay," I said, my words muffled by her right breast. "I'm here. Go ahead." And she did. Her orgasm shuddered through her and she squirmed and arched and squealed and cried out in pleasure. Afterward, I slipped onto the narrow bed beside her and we held each other for quite a while, eventually drifting off to sleep. Linnie and I agreed that we could never ever, ever, ever tell anyone about this. We never mentioned it to each other again and never did anything like it again, either. I have, however, longed for another Linnie in my life ever since that morning more than 20 years ago. END *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 35