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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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Trade In
by Old Bill (address withheld)

***

He decides that it is time for a new model. (Mf, ped, 
nc, humor)

***

I pulled my well-satisfied cock out of good old Betsy's 
clasping cunt and lay back so she could do what she did 
so well. As she cleaned my balls and licked my 
softening penis with her talented tongue, I patted her 
backside and decided to turn her in. My finances were 
in pretty good shape and some of the new models being 
advertised on the tube were really attractive; let's be 
honest, arousing is what they were. I had been watching 
the ads and checking out the prices for girls with as 
many fucks on them as my 23-year-old doll had, and I 
was ready for a new one, or at least a low mileage used 
model. 

So I cleaned her up, tied back her silky hair, put some 
makeup on the bite marks and bruises, got her into her 
highest heels, dumped a short shift over her pretty 
head and hiked her down to the GOPAR dealer, assuming I 
would get a better trade by staying with the same 
brand. They knew me since I had bought two girls from 
them and have brought Betsy in for service at least 
once a year and always hung around the showroom and 
admired the new girls while she got greased and 
tightened up.

I tried to walk her past the cavorting youngsters in 
the showroom without leering at them and sat her in the 
saleman's cubicle. She crossed her long legs and 
blinked, her big tits hard against the thin cloth of 
her simple dress. "Want to trade her in," I told him 
after we shook hands and exchanged names.

"OK, let me check her FIN number and get her plugged 
into the analyzer." He smiled and grinned at Betsy who 
stood and let him look at the number tattooed on her 
butt. "She looks good to me." He pulled down her 
neckline, grasped a breast and squeezed. "Nice and 
firm." He plugged his cable into the socket under her 
left arm and then said, "You looking new or used?"

"Depends," I said. "Understand you guys are making some 
deals these days, what with the market and all. End of 
the season, isn't it?"

"Yep, most top of the line sixteens are under forty 
now, and you can get a reconditioned one, a twenty or 
less, with a five-thousand fuck guarantee for about 
twenty-one five."

"Wow," I said as his printout machine started chugging.

"Let me show you a couple of the pre-owned girls, OK?"

"Sure," I said, watching the paper roll out of the 
printer.

He pushed several buttons on a touchpad and almost 
immediately two lovely young women appeared and struck 
the usual model stance. Both were luscious, enticing, 
stimulating, sexy - pick a word, and wearing just wisps 
of garments, certainly nothing they could wear outside.

He looked at a card. "The blonde is twenty-one and you 
would be her third owner. She was bought new, a 
seventeen, by an old fellow who only used her once a 
week and died after eighteen months or so, a smile on 
his face. His son, who already had a foreign girl, 
inherited her, shared her with his buddies and got 
tired of her. He traded her in on one of the Japanese 
geisha models. She's been thoroughly rehabbed except 
for the hymen, tuned up and is now almost good as new. 
You can have her for eighteen less whatever I can give 
you for, ah, Betsy, right?"

"How used was she?" I asked, admiring the lean young 
woman with the sleek hips.

"We think someone played with her counter, but I'm sure 
she had less than a thousand lays in the three-years-
plus she was in use."

"Sounds like some pretty hard use."

He nodded and picked up the other card. "The auburn is 
called Ginger, and she's now only nineteen, a one-owner 
marshmallow, a creampuff, a great piece of ass. Bought 
new for thirty-five something, she was well cared for, 
regularly serviced, for about three years before being 
traded on brand-new sixteen, one with all the bells and 
whistles." He looked up and smiled, "I sold both of 
them, and I've test driven Ginger. She's absolutely 
first class, eager to get going with a mouth like a 
suction pump. I got her up to a hundred in the back 
room without much effort."

"How much?" I asked, feeling my cock surge when I 
thought about a hundred strokes a minute.

"Twenty-one-five plus your trade," he said. "Five 
thousand fuck warranty and free serving for the first 
year." He tore off the printout and glanced through it. 
"Not bad. See you didn't use her ass much."

"She had most of those when I bought her a couple of 
years ago," I told him truthfully.

"Well, she's a bit wobbly. Gonna take some real work to 
tighten her up. I can give you a thousand for her, 
salvage value."

"Aw come on," I said. "I only use her every other 
night, and I don't lend her out much. She still gives a 
lot of pleasure, very pneumatic."

He nodded. "Let me show you one of the brand new 
sixteens. I can allow you more on a new model than on 
one of the used girls."

"OK, but Betsy's good; does almost everything I ask her 
and never complains." We both laughed on that line.

I followed him over to the shallow pool where four 
blondes and one dark-haired girl were playing and 
splashing in their tiny bikinis, all with rather blank 
looks on their pretty faces. He pointed, "That one, the 
one with the small tits, you can have for thirty-seven 
with just Betsy as a down payment, maybe two hundred a 
month."

"Can I test ride one?" I asked, feeling quite horny.

"Sure, we have a demo we use for that. We don't loan 
out the new girls."

I nodded and he whistled and a gorgeous youngster 
appeared wearing a ponytail, high heels, and not much 
else. I took her hand and she followed me back to the 
sound-proof test-drive room, her big boobs jiggling 
wonderfully, the nipples very puffy and erect. I think 
all the new sixteens at GOPAR had been augmented this 
year; thirty-sixes seemed to be the norm. She went 
right to the padded bench and spread herself open for 
me. 

I was painfully erect immediately. I stripped down my 
trousers and underwear, took a condom from the 
dispenser and handed it to her. She smiled at me, put 
it on her pouting lips, sucked it in and proceeded to 
take my whole rod into her warm mouth and install the 
rubber at the same time, flicking my balls with her 
tongue and then raking with her teeth as she backed 
away. They sure were making sixteens with a lot more 
features than they had even ten years ago, when the 
dealerships first opened.

I stepped between her long, shapely legs, and she 
wrapped them about me and pulled me right into her, 
buried quickly all the way to the balls, in her 
wonderfully deep and quivering grasp. I relaxed and let 
her drive, and she demonstrated her rippling muscles 
and her ability to push a cock out as well as draw it 
in. 

I grasped her full breasts, twisted until she gasped 
and took over, ramming hard and fast, up on my toes, 
hearing myself grunt with effort, really smacking us 
together. She stayed with me perfectly as the pace 
increased. The young slut's eyes opened wide and she 
squealed with pleasure as the meter on the wall showed 
we had reached 110. I ejaculated and she creamed, 
shuddering and gasping happily, massaging and milking 
my cock with her muscular vagina.

The demo rolled over to display her well-rounded ass 
after I pulled free, but I turned down the invitation 
to corn-hole her, left her on the sex stand with her 
warm juices trickling out of her and went back to the 
showroom, impressed by a five-minute demo.

"Well?" asked the salesman, "you ready to deal?"

"Show me a couple more of your used girls. Do you have 
some under twenty, maybe rentals."

"Ah, you wouldn't want one of those. You never know 
what's been done to them." He flipped through his 
cards. "I've got one mini that's just eighteen and a 
full sized nineteen and, oh yes, almost forgot, a 
seventeen-and-a-half we got in on a trade just 
yesterday; haven't even had time to start cleaning her 
up, pretty little bitch but her boobs have been slapped 
around."

"Let's go see her. I'm not really interested in the 
small one."

"Some of those little one area really hot," he said as 
we went outside to the pen where a half a dozen used 
girls were chained to posts, but still able to walk 
around and get some exercise in the sunlight. Two of 
them were playing 69 over in a corner. All of them were 
wearing long-tailed company shirt with the conjoined 
GOPAR logo on them.

"Tell me about the redhead over there in the corner," I 
asked. She was along-legged beauty with a great rack.

He smiled. "You've got good taste. She was part of our 
Premier line two years ago, sold for just under fifty 
thousand to a partnership, had every extra you could 
load on, electric everything, guidance system, three 
languages, dancing, stripping. She could handle three 
men at once without breaking a sweat. Some of the boys 
called her Deep Throat II. 

The guys that bought her evidently tried to see if they 
could wear her out and get their money back on the 
warranty period. She carried a ten-thousand-fuck 
guarantee. Well they and their buddies at work managed 
to romp her twenty-two hundred and some times before 
one blew a gasket and died of a heart attack. His wife 
sold her back to us, and she was in pretty bad shape 
then."

"Damn," I said, "she's a real beauty."

"Let's see," he said, turning the card over. "They've 
given her a rebuilt vagina, tight as a sixteen for 
sure, nipple transplants, the two-stage type, one new 
hip joint, and, unfortunately, a full memory wipe. You 
can get her for your girl and twenty-five, but she's 
not right in the head; getting better but still fuzzy."

"I'll give you twenty," I said, "cash."

He sniffed and made a face. "You understand; she sold 
for fifty, and she is absolutely fully equipped."

"Warranty?" I asked.

"Same as on all the pre-owned, five thousand and a free 
first year tune-up. Wait a minute, I forget Freckles. 
Come on around back."

I followed him with glances back at the incredible 
redhead.

"This girl was, I guess you'd say, experimental, but 
she didn't sell. She's a sixteen, listed for thirty-
seven-five, a carrot-head with a lot of freckles, sort 
of the little girl next-door look, pigtails and all. 
Here she is."

The sad-looking girl stood by a shipping container 
wearing a company shirt and high-heeled slippers. She 
was a pretty little thing, maybe five-two with a real 
young look, a great body and a spray of orange freckles 
across her cheeks. I wanted her at once.

The salesman dug a dog-eared card from his pocket. 
"She's a full-featured sixteen, well trained with a 
one-twenty top speed." He looked at me, licked his lips 
and said, "You can take her home for twenty-five and 
your girl, all we want from her is her organs."

"Deal," I said, shaking his sweaty hand. I went back to 
see Betsy for one last time, hugged her, patted her 
firm butt and told her I was sorry. She nodded, and I 
guessed she knew they were going to eviscerate her and 
incinerate her, but that a girl's life these days. I 
had my first sixteen, a real virgin to break in. 

There's nothing like the smell of a new girl.

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 62