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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Teen-Line Cindi
by Tinman (tinmanjc9@hotmail.com)

***

A telephone-system quirk puts horny teens in touch with 
each other and older guys too in the Denver area. Jim 
makes contact with teenager Cindi leading to, well, 
just read the story, okay. (M/f-teen, ped, rom)

***

Teen-Line! Wow, those were the days. Never heard of 
Teen-Line? Let me tell you about it. It was one of the 
greatest "free services" the phone company ever 
unintentionally let loose.

Denver in the late 60s. I was 34 and always horny. I 
lived in an apartment house on 6th Avenue in Denver. I 
traveled a lot in my work, and was home many weekdays 
as well as most weekends. When I was home I often 
volunteered at a place called the Hip Help Center, a 
place of refuge for America's Vander-Vogels of the hip 
generation - our "wandering birds," teens who had run 
away from homes back east and were on the road. Most 
were headed for San Francisco where they'd heard 
everyone wore flowers in their hair, smoked pot all day 
and screwed all night. 

If they'd only known, Denver was just as hot and free 
as San Francisco. Denver was a convenient stopover for 
those on their way to San Francisco. The Rocky Mountain 
High city had its Capitol Hill area where all the 
hippies and wannabes hung out, wore flowers, smoked pot 
and screwed all night. But many of the youngsters got 
into trouble of one sort or another: drugs, sex, booze 
and free living take their toll on the young and 
inexperienced. 

An old friend of mine had founded the Hip Help Center, 
on 17th street, which he ran. The center was a place 
the Vander-Vogels could hang out, get somewhat 
straight, find someone to sit with them through a bad 
trip, meet others on the road and find a crash pad and 
maybe some food, plus get references to other sources 
of help depending on their needs.

At the center, there were a number of young people who 
volunteered - like me, younger. So word of anything 
good usually got around fast. We knew when Janice was 
coming to town, or Donovan; and we knew where the good 
little coffee shops were where you could cop a toke or 
a dime bag.

One night a few of us were sitting around rapping away, 
when Chad came in all excited and joined us. "Have you 
guys heard about Teen Line?" he asked. None of us had, 
we all just shook our heads. 

"It's fantastic," he said. "You know how you get that 
busy signal? Y'know, that bah...bah...bah sound? Well, 
I just found out that there are numbers you can dial 
that will always get that signal. And in between the 
bah... bah... bahs, chicks and guys shout out their 
phone numbers, one number at a time. It's like you'll 
hear: bah-call-bah-me-bah-three-bah-four-bah-six-bah... 
and so on. Then they hang up and wait for people to 
call them and talk or even make dates. And its mostly 
sex they want to talk about."

Chad must have told us all this without taking a 
breath, 'cause he had to stop and breathe while the 
whole thing soaked into our heads. To make a long story 
shorter, after we all rapped about this new thing for a 
while, we broke up and headed home for the evening.

Well, as soon as I got home I had to try this. I had 
jotted down two numbers Chad gave us, immediately 
dialed one of them. Sure enough there were the busy 
signals. I listened and damned if there weren't people 
shouting their phone numbers between the bahs. As I 
listened that first time, I distinctly heard numbers 
being called out by chicks and guys. I was writing down 
chick numbers as fast as I could but wasn't having much 
luck until I got the rhythm of it.

After about ten minutes of this a chick call out, 
"Call-bah-me-bah-for-bah-fun-bah-nine-bah-eight-bah..." 
until she called out her entire number. 

I jotted her number down and immediately called her. I 
must have gotten in before anyone else 'cause it rang 
straight through and a pleasant young girl's voice came 
on. We introduced ourselves to each other. She said her 
name was Cindi and she was sixteen, I felt pretty sure 
from her language usage that she was younger than that. 
Sixteen, by the way, was legal age of consent in 
Colorado at that time and that was widely known. 

Anyway we talked for ten or fifteen minutes about 
everything. Cindi lived with her mom and little sister. 
I quickly turned the conversation to boy-friends, 
relationships and finally to sex. Cindi wasn't bashful, 
she obviously wanted to talk about sex. 

I told her I was a few years older, in my late twenties 
(okay, I cheated some). She seemed to find that 
exciting, questioned me about my girl friends (I didn't 
have a steady then) and then, surprise! She asked me 
what I thought about sex. "Hell," I told her, "I love 
to make out with a pretty girl. What about you? What do 
you think?"

She wasn't going to answer that question flat out, she 
did say, "I really like making out but that's not the 
same as sex, is it." That wasn't a question, it was a 
statement.

"So, exactly what do you think 'making out' is?" I 
asked. 

"Y'know," she replied. "That's, y'know, kissing and 
petting, stuff like that."

"Okay, I see. Well, I really like that too, Cindi," I 
told her, "but that often leads to sex... I mean, I 
always want to go further; y'know all the way... like a 
home run. To put it plainly, I really like to screw. 
Especially cute young girls." Hey, I figured I might as 
well tell it like it was.

"Ummmm! I'll bet you do," she said in her most sultry 
voice. 

"How do YOU feel about sex," I asked her. "Do you, 
uh... y'know... play with yourself?"

"Sometimes," she replied, "at night."

Well things went on this way for a while. She described 
herself as blonde, blue-eyed, about 108 pounds, 5'6" 
tall. Sounded nice, I suspected that over the phone a 
girl might lie about her appearance. She was impressed 
with my age, the fact that I had a nice car and an 
apartment downtown, was free to do as I pleased. I 
described myself accurately, in those days I was a real 
blonde young hunk - not bragging, it's just a fact. I 
skied (downhill) and had a good facial tan with the 
raccoon look (where the eyes aren't as tan as the rest 
of the face because of the goggles).

I told Cindi that I'd really like to come over and take 
her for a drive. But it was pretty late in the evening. 
There wasn't a chance a young girl was going to meet me 
at night. I did ask, she said she had school tomorrow 
and couldn't stay up that night. But she asked me to 
call her tomorrow and I promised to, even though she 
said she didn't believe I would. I swore that I would, 
telling her she sounded much too pretty for me not to 
call her. 

She liked that. So we said goodnight, me with a seven 
inch hard-on that I had to work out all by myself that 
night visualizing a blonde, blue-eyed slender young 
teenaged girl. I don't know if all our talk made her 
wet, I'd bet it did. Man! I thought, this Teen Line is 
something else.

Next afternoon, I called her number again and Cindi 
answered. We talked for a while, again quickly moving 
the conversation along to boyfriends, girlfriends and 
sex. My cock was thoroughly wet and dripping crystal 
clear lubrication from being so excited.

Finally, I asked if I could come over and take her for 
a ride (pun intended, she didn't say anything if she 
caught it). She said she couldn't leave the house 
because she was babysitting her little sister, a six 
year old. I said I'd be right there and she gave me 
directions. She lived only about two miles from my 
place.

When I pulled up, I saw the place was an older home 
that had been converted to apartments. I climbed the 
long stairs to the door as she had told me to. At the 
top I knocked on the door and soon it was opened by a 
very cute blonde girl dressed in a loose blouse and 
tight worn blue jeans.

"Cindi?" I asked. "I'm Jim. From Teen Line."

"Hi," she responded, "I'm Cindi. C'mon in."

I walked in and shut the door behind me. Immediately I 
took Cindi in my arms and pulled her to me and kissed 
her. She didn't object or pull away, so I continued 
kissing her. I could tell she was put a little off 
balance by my being so forward, which is want I 
intended. I kept the pressure up, kissing her and 
rubbing her back and butt. Pretty soon, I had backed 
her up to a closet door and was pressing her against it 
as I kissed her and rubbed her full-sized breasts and 
that cute butt. No objections from her, I could tell 
she was surprised by the suddenness.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" she noted.

"Not when there's a girl as beautiful and delicious as 
you, Cindi," I replied. "I can't believe how lucky I 
was to find you on Teen Line."

That seemed to please her and we kissed a long, deep 
French kiss. She obviously was inexperienced with 
kissing, Hell, a novice kisser was fine with me. As we 
kissed I began to unbutton her blouse to free her 
beautiful breasts. When my hand first touched her left 
tit, I felt her relax in my arms as if to give her 
consent to anything I wanted to do. So I lightly rubbed 
her breasts and pinched lightly at her nipples as I 
kissed her. She was enjoying it a lot, judging by her 
low, deep moans and the way she pushed her hips forward 
to feel my hard cock press against her crotch. Her 
kisses were eager and hot.

My cock was way hard, beyond hard. I looked down 
briefly and saw a good sized wet spot on my trouser 
front. Enough of this play, I thought to myself, I need 
to fuck. And I didn't want to do it standing up. I had 
to get her on that bed across the room.

My hand slipped from her breast to the top of her 
jeans, where I fumbled with the top button for a moment 
before getting it undone. Then I slipped the zipper 
down a little and put my hand down inside the top of 
her jeans, all the way to and under her panties right 
down to her muff. I rubbed her there and felt her go 
into a spasm of heavy breathing and sighs. 

So I let my fingers wander down through her muff to her 
little hooded clit. There I rubbed small circles to 
"jack off" her little clit. She loved it and began 
moaning. As she did I slipped a finger into her slit. 
It was like slipping my fingers into honey. Her pussy 
was very wet with her girl juices, making her all 
slippery and smooth down there. I spread her wetness 
around some, then dipped into her again and swirled my 
finger inside her to gather more of her juices.

Then I withdrew my finger and put it in my mouth where 
I sucked off her juices. God! The scent of her was like 
a triple hit off the bong, totally intoxicating and 
wonderfully innocent. This was the scent of a very 
young girl, I recognized. She couldn't possibly be more 
than 13 or 14, I thought.

I quickly undid my own slacks and freed my cock through 
the fly. I moved her hand to my cock and squeezed her 
fingers around me. Damn, that felt good.

The urge was too strong. I had to have relief. I pulled 
her jeans up so she could walk. 
I turned around and, leading her by the hand, walked 
across the room to the bed. At that point I asked her 
if she was "safe." Of course I meant, was she on the 
pill. Her next comment showed me that she didn't 'get 
it.' The 'safe' question, I mean.

She looked at me oddly, then holding up her jeans she 
went to the stairway door and threw a deadbolt. "Keeps 
the kids out," she mumbled as she walked back to the 
bed. At least she isn't objecting. Sugar-plum fairies 
were dancing in my head to the tune of ,"I'm gonna get 
laid, I'm gonna get laid. Bareback, too!" 

I lay her back across the bed, leaned down and kissed 
her again, then moved down to grasp the legs of her 
jeans and slide them down off her legs. Then her 
panties came down, too, not before I noticed a very 
large wet spot right at the pussy panel of those blue 
silky things. Now she was naked from the waist down. 

I spread her legs slightly with one hand while with the 
other I undid my slacks and let them drop to the floor. 
I hadn't worn any under shorts, being pretty sure I was 
going to get some pussy. My seven inch cock was full 
hard, throbbing hard, purple-headed hard and leaking 
generously. I leaned down and kissed her on her pussy 
mound, my tongue flicking her clit.

Then I quickly moved onto the bed, then between her 
legs. My cock was twitching as I guided the slit tip 
right to her pussy, her very wet and slippery teenaged 
cunt. Slowly I pushed inward, backed out a bit, then 
pushed on in until my entire prick was embedded in her 
girlish slot and my manly balls were pressing against 
her sweet little ass cheeks.
We both moaned with the pleasure (or pain?) of my full 
penetration into this sweet girl's body. It was clear 
now that there was no maidenhead to bust but she was 
almost as tight as a virgin.

From there, after a half minute of enjoying the initial 
entrance, I soon began fucking in and out of the girl. 
It felt so damned delicious, so fulsome. She was one 
tight little girl, her wet and clinging girl flesh 
grasping my shaft as I fucked her and fucked her.

My hands gripped and squeezed her fine teenaged ass as 
I fucked into her repeatedly. My head bent to suckle 
her nipples, first one and then the other, as I stroked 
in and out of her then ground around deep inside her. I 
tried to make this great fuck last, slowing when I felt 
my cum rising, even stopping once or twice and just 
holding it in her and whispering in her ear. 

"God but you're fine. Cute, young, sexy and your pussy 
is so snug." Stuff like that, all meant to keep her 
heated and full of desire (as well as my cock!).

On the last time I stopped briefly, holding my cock in 
her waiting for the cum urge to die down, she said, 
"What's the youngest girl you ever did it with?"

Still stroking in and out of her fine young snatch, I 
mumbled, "Twelve... I think. I think... the youngest 
was twelve." 

Funny question, I thought to myself. She must be pretty 
young if she's interested in that. She probably thinks 
she my youngest, I probably should have let her 
continue thinking that.

I was right, because immediately she kind of tensed up. 
"I'll bet you were really proud of yourself," she said, 
a clear tone of bitterness (envy?) in her voice. Then, 
she let out with the "ball buster."

"Stop," she said. "Let's stop." Now, she didn't pull 
away or push me away or anything, just asked me to 
stop. If she thought a guy could do that after fucking 
her for several minutes, then she didn't know much 
about sex, that was sure. No way could I have stopped 
then. I was dedicated to unloading my overfull balls 
inside this young girl.

"Okay, okay..." I said, agreeing with her which I knew 
was the best plan. "Just a couple minutes more... then 
I'll stop, okay?"

She said nothing and I kept stroking, perhaps a little 
faster. I concentrated on just sliding in and out of 
her and getting ready for a big climax. I knew I was 
close but I just kept cool and quiet as I stoked and 
finally I felt the cum rising up and that wonderful 
feeling of total relaxation and release. I was about to 
cum in this cutie.

I pushed into her fully and held it just as I had when 
I paused. But this time my cock was squirting my man 
juice deep into her girlish pussy. But I didn't grunt, 
groan or let on in any other way that I was cumming. No 
shouts, no frantic last-minute hot action. I just 
looked intensely into her eyes, held steady and let my 
cum go where it would in her fine young body.

"See?" I asked, "I stopped, just like you asked." I 
didn't mention that I also came in her, perhaps 
knocking her up with my baby. It was the quietest 
orgasm I've ever had. 

After cooling down a little, I rose and pulled my 
slacks back up. Again, I bent and kissed her young 
pussy's hood and thanked her for a great time. I left 
down the stairs, leaving her with a pussy full of my 
procreative juices. I thought about her full pussy all 
the way home and for many, many years thereafter. It 
has been one of the most memorable fucks of my life. 
Not because she was especially a good fuck, she really 
wasn't al that great, except for her youth and 
inexperience. Just because of the way it happened, the 
way I've told it here.

Ever since that night, I've felt quite certain that I 
did, in fact, give her a baby. If I'm right, I hope she 
kept it. When I tried to visit her again not long after 
that, I learned that they had moved "out of town." I 
never saw or heard from her again but I remember her 
with considerable affection and that memory has 
inspired many JO sessions since then.

END

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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.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 46