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Thirteen
by Old Bill (address withheld)

***

A beautiful 9th grader asks Billy for a favor. (mf-
teens, youths, nc)

***

I swear I could hear her coming or perhaps feel her 
coming down the long corridor would be more accurate. 
It got quieter as she passed, seemingly completely 
unconscious of her effect as boys sighed and girls 
snorted. It sounded like a breeze, a gentle wind as she 
hurried along, left arm swinging, right thumb in the 
strap of the book bag over her shoulder, taking a yard-
long stride, chin up and breasts jiggling wonderfully, 
hair bouncing and hips rolling. 

I closed my locker and leaned back, feeling a smile on 
my face as I watched her approach. Lordy, she was just 
a 9th grader, barely legal if she even was and here 
came Samantha Jones, the girl, I mean THE girl.

She stopped, licked her lips and turned to face me, her 
upturned breasts only inches from my chest, a perfect 
pair. I could smell her. We were nose-to-nose, belly-
to-belly in the crowded hall.

"Billy right?" she said quietly, poking me with a 
forefinger, "I need a favor. Can I talk to you at 
lunch?"

I nodded and she pushed her left leg forward until her 
mounded thigh was touching my cockhead. "Thanks," she 
said, tossing back her golden hair and turning away. 
"See you then." And she walked on. I watched. Jeans-
clad Samantha from the back was almost as good as 
Samantha from the front, both views an obvious 
invitation to copulate. I was aroused, painfully 
aroused.

I don't remember anything about my morning classes 
except that I seemed to have an erection that wouldn't 
quit. Those TV ads warning about a four-hour hard-ons 
were playing through my mind so I visited the boys' 
room between math and English and relieved the 
pressure, emptying my balls with a gasp of relief, 
spurting out ropes of thick jism, stroking until it was 
reasonably limp, trying not to think about her taut 
waist or soft belly, stuffing the sore thing back in my 
pants.

When I got to the cafeteria, I immediately saw her 
blonde head and hurried to her table and sat beside 
her, plunking down my brown bag and grinning, feeling 
the blood rushing to my groin.

"Aren't you going to get some milk?" she asked, 
blinking at me, her straw at her pink lips.

I shook my head and got out my thick sandwich.

She wiggled closer and I managed to look away from her 
luscious boobs and into her perfect face and ice-blue 
eyes. Her eyelashes flickered, and she said, "I wanted 
to talk to you about sex. You know, fucking." She 
wiggled an inch closer, our shoulders touching. Her 
skin was perfect, flawless with tiny pale hairs all 
over it. Her breast rubbed my upper arm and my cock 
jumped. I could feel her hard nipple.

"Why me?" I croaked, with lots of eyes on us, jealous 
eyes.

She sniffed, sucked in some milk, smiled and said, in a 
whisper, "They say you're the best, the biggest and the 
best."

"Who says?" I asked.

"You know, the sub-debs, the girls, everybody." She 
waved a hand and smiled.

I nodded. "And?"

"So, well, this is kind of embarrassing, but my 
mother's, well, gone, and I don't have any sisters or 
brothers. I can't talk to my father about it."

"There are books," I said with my mouth full of bread 
and salami. "And the Internet."

She nodded and got out some Oreos from her lunch bag. 
"Want one?" she asked sweetly.

I took a cookie and another bite of my sandwich.

"So," she said, sitting up very straight and giving me 
another erection, "I thought you could come over and, 
well, teach me, show me, you know, about things."

"How old are you?"

She blinked and smiled and licked her lips and put the 
rest of her Oreo in her mouth and wiped her mouth with 
her fingers. Then she licked her lips and my heart 
melted and my brain turned to slush. Her tongue tip was 
exciting, erotic.

"OK, sure," I said. "When?"

"After school today. Nobody's home at my house."

I nodded and chewed.

"I can meet you at your locker," she said. "I mean if 
that's all right, if you'll do it."

"Uh huh," I said, my brain processing all this data 
very slowly. "Samantha, I really need to know whether 
or not you're sixteen."

"Of course I am, silly. What did you think, I was some 
kind of jailbait or something?"

"You're just a 9th grader, a freshman, right?"

She stood and said, "See you later," and left carrying 
her trash and tossing it away while my cock surged and 
my scruples melted.

And right after the last bell there she was with her 
coat on and her bag on her shoulder. She followed me 
out to the car, buckled herself in, thanked me and then 
told me where she lived, a very nice neighborhood.

We went in the backdoor with her key and she dumped her 
bag on the kitchen table and came right into my arms 
and kissed me, hard and long, and I kissed her and then 
we kissed each other and hugged and rubbed and stuff. 
Then she took off her coat and sat down at the table 
and smiled at me.

"Being pretty - I know I'm pretty - being pretty can be 
a, well, a handicap," she said and I could see tears in 
her eyes.

I sat and held her hand.

"I'm scared," she said, blinking. "I really had to get 
my nerve up to ask you, but I've never been alone with 
a boy and, except for some relatives, you're the first 
man I ever kissed.

"You're a good kisser," I said.

She laughed and sniffed and wiped away tears. "Will you 
teach me?"

"Sure, but what's the hurry?"

"I don't know. Since last year, I've changed, my body 
and my insides and my brain, all different, since I 
started having, you know, periods. Now I get shots for 
those, but I've got these urges, these feelings, these 
awful dreams. I'm horny, I know that, and my boobs are 
so sensitive they hurt."

"It's called adolescence," I said. "And it can been 
painful and scary. Most people survive."

"My father, he says he doesn't understand girls."

"Nobody does," I said.

She laughed. "Sometimes Daddy brings home people from 
work, men, and, well, they look at me funny, like 
they're hungry or something."

"You ever been out with a guy, to a movie or a dance? 
Ever had a boyfriend, hooked up?"

She shook her head. "I think, I think they're afraid to 
ask me, that they think I've got all these boys or 
something. But I don't have any, not one."

"You do now," I said.

She squeezed my hand. "Come on. I'm dying to do it."

I shook my head.

"What's wrong?"

"You're too pretty, too young and too eager. Relax. 
There's no hurry."

"But I want it; I need it. It's like there's this hole 
in me that aches to be filled. Billy, I do it every day 
to myself. I get a, a, an orgasm every single day with 
my fingers and things, you know, things, carrots and 
stuff."

"You still have a hymen?" I asked, curious, trying to 
slow her down.

She nodded. "But you can fix that."

"It will hurt," I said.

She nodded, licking her lips. "Please, do it, fuck me."

"Samantha, don't use that word. Everybody, every kid 
has these feeling, these wants. You have to learn to be 
patient, to control your, your whatever you call them, 
your urges."

She pouted.

"Do you always get everything you want, everything you 
ask for? Is your father that rich, that easy?"

She nodded. "Pretty much."

"It is illegal to have sex with anybody under sixteen," 
I said, looking as stern as I could.

"My god," she gasped. "I can't wait three years. I'm 
dying for it. Please Billy, please, please."

I shook my head. "I'll get you something to help you 
and I want you to look up sex positions on your 
computer and then tomorrow, after school, we'll have 
lesson number one."

She nodded.

"Understand. You can't have sex until you're sixteen. 
Not with anybody, even girls."

She nodded and sniffed.

I went downtown and bought her the smallest dildo I 
could find, one supposedly for beginners. It was about 
five inches long, maybe an inch wide and had a knobby 
base that was for clit arousal and came with some kind 
of moisturizer. It cost thirteen bucks.

So the next day I gave her a ride home, pushed her away 
when she tried to kiss me in the kitchen, asked if she 
had looked at those positions on the Internet and gave 
her the present.

She looked at it and then at me.

"OK," I said, trying to look stern. 'Two questions - go 
ahead."

She wrinkled her forehead. "What does it feel like, 
having sex I mean?"

I shook my head. "For boys, for me, it's exciting, 
satisfying and, well, it relieves a lot of tension. 
Nothing feels better."

"But, I mean, for girls, for me?"

"Use that little thing and then you tell me. Did you 
look at all those ways of doing it?"

She pouted and nodded. "OK, how big are most, most 
penises and how big are most pussies, most vaginas. How 
do they fit together?"

"That's two questions," I said with a smile. She was so 
pretty and so eager it was hard to look at her. "The 
average cock's five or six inches long when it's erect, 
hard, two or three when it's not. I think the normal 
vagina is about four inches deep but it is very, very 
flexible. You can look it up. I read somewhere that 
most women can take a nine- inch cock, penis, without 
pain. In general, the tighter the better and that means 
the younger the better."

"I've seen these huge things on the computer, these 
monstrous cocks, you know, long as your arm."

I smiled, "Photoshop or plastic probably. Nature made 
boys and girls, men and women to fit together and they 
do. That's why we're knee deep in little kids." I got 
up, smiled and left quickly, hoping she could not see 
how aroused I was.

I didn't see her again until lunchtime on Monday when 
she sat down beside me, pouted and said, "It doesn't 
work."

"What?" I asked.

"That thing, that plastic thing."

"Not now, after school," I said, looking around.

She nodded, sniffed and left.

When she got in the car that afternoon, she handed me 
the little dildo I had given her. "It's no good. I 
measured and it's too little. It just goes right in and 
out and does nothing. Doesn't even stretch my cherry."

"You sure you're a virgin?" I asked, trying to be 
funny.

She stamped her foot, folded her arms and looked angry.

At her house, we went on-line and I showed her the wide 
variety of things available, and she said she like to 
try a rabbit. So were found a couple of videos and 
watched girls getting themselves off, and I agreed to 
buy her a jack rabbit for twenty bucks or so on-line 
and then she asked me if I would suck her tits.

"I can't reach them," she whined. "Please, Billy."

Somehow I resisted and went home and abused myself for 
a bit. The gadget arrived in a week, and I gave to her 
after school and took her home. She unwrapped it, 
looked at the shiny pink thing, sniffed and said I was 
mean. I left quickly with a twenty-dollar bill.

The next Monday she caught up with me at my locker, 
slid her backpack off her shoulder, pulled the big 
dildo out and shoved it at me and then hurried away. I 
was left standing in the middle of the hall with a big, 
pink vibrator in my hand. One guy lifted his cell phone 
to get a picture, but I stuffed the thing in my locker 
and ran for it.

After school Samantha was sitting in my car, looking 
unhappy. "It wouldn't go in," she whined. "I greased it 
up and everything and it just wouldn't."

I nodded, said I was sorry and drove her home. "Don't 
come in," she said as she unbuckled, "I'm going to get 
a big carrot and rape myself. You're just mean." And 
she slammed the door.

I didn't see her or hear of her until Friday when I 
found her sitting in my car after school, pouting, 
looking hang-dog sad.

"Where have you been?" I asked as I put the old car in 
gear.

"Playing hooky. I was ashamed of coming to school, 
scared, embarrassed, something."

"All week?"

"Just two days, yesterday and most of today. I was 
staying away from you, your locker."

I drove and tried not to look at her.

"I'm not a virgin any more," she said very quietly, 
almost a whisper.

I sighed and glanced at her. She was crying.

"Want to tell me?" I asked.

"I met this girl at the Y. She said she knew you. Her 
name's Monaghan, Marcie Monaghan."

"Nice girl," I said.

"She's a slut. Now I am too. That's what I am." And she 
sobbed.

I patted her back and she pulled away and said, "Don't"

"There were these guys, three of them, using the 
machines, you know exercise, weights and stuff, 
treadmill. Big guys, six-something, ripped, basketball 
players."

"So?"

"So this Marcie knew them or at least they knew her 
and, well, she asked me if I wanted to go over to their 
place and have some fun. And I did."

I drove and waited. Tits Monaghan loved sex and needed 
big guys, I had proved that.

"I think they gave me something, you know a drug, 
Ecstasy maybe in a Coke, and we shared a joint and 
then, and then, then one of them took me into the 
bedroom and pulled off my clothes and made me get on my 
knees and suck his thing."

I pulled into her driveway and we sat looking out the 
windshield.

"So I did that. God Billy, his thing was huge, like a 
piece of pipe. I put both hands on it and had a 
mouthful at the same time. It was really thick and 
pulsing like, surging. And so he spurted in my mouth 
and made me swallow it."

I tried not to make any noise, just breathed.

"Then this other guy, we were at their apartment near 
the college, this other guy just tossed me up on the 
bed like I didn't weigh anything, and he pounced on 
me."

"What were you doing?" I asked. "Did you tell them to 
stop?"

"I don't know. It was like I was watching it happened 
to somebody else."

"Sounds like you were drugged, a date rape stuff I 
suppose." I guess I was talking to myself because she 
kept right on talking.

She nodded. "So this big guy, he was kind of cute with 
a crew cut, he stuck his fingers in me and thumbed my 
little button, you know and then he reared up and I 
could see his thing sticking out and dripping. It was 
really huge; the shaft was wider than the head, bulging 
out with all these veins. And he smiled and stuck it in 
me, all the way in me until out bellies were rubbing, 
and I could feel his balls pressing against me."

I waited.

"I didn't even feel him do it; you know punch through 
my, my hymen, but he must have and when he finally 
pumped me full of his stuff and pulled out, I was 
bleeding. His cock had streaks of blood on it."

"Damn," I said, more or less to myself.

"So I tried to get to the bathroom and this other big 
guy, he grabbed me, pushed my face down on the bed and 
took me from behind. I screeched, I know that. He went 
really deep, deeper than the first one, and he was 
holding my hips and grunting like crazy, pounding away, 
and I was just taking it and flopping around like my 
bones had turned to jelly."

"I'm sorry," I told her, taking her hand. She pulled it 
away and took a deep breath.

"So anyhow, they took turns on me. I don't know what 
the other girl, what Marcie was doing, but I guess they 
were fucking her too. One of them, sometime, I'm not 
sure, he pulled his cock out of me and crawled up and 
put it between my breasts and grabbed them and rubbed 
it up and down until he came."

"Let's go inside," I suggested.

"Then while I was sucking on, I remember this clearly, 
I was suck this prick and another guy put his thing in 
me from the back and there I was being pushed back and 
forth between the two of them."

"Come on," I said. "Let's go in." I had heard more than 
enough.

"Boy, they sure made funny faces when they came in me, 
you know, gritting their teeth."

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

She shook her head. "When they were done, when they 
couldn't do any more, they made me suck them, all three 
of them, and then they pushed me out the back door and 
tossed my clothes after me. And there I was, naked and 
cold and all this goo running down my legs. I walked 
home."

"You know about Plan B, the morning after pill?" I 
asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not fertile, I know my cycle."

"OK," I said, "if you're sure."

She nodded. "So, so will you do me now, I mean, now 
that I'm not cherry?"

"No," I said, "you're still thirteen."

She slammed the door so hard she almost broke the 
glass.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 62