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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2009.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
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Celesta 
Written by AB-2009 (www.asstr.org/~Kristen/ab2008)
As told by Bob B. (Gallup NM)

***

This is purported to be a true story about a man whose 
wife is a social worker. He is startled out of his 
complacency by a little Indian girl they take in as a 
temporary foster child. (M/f-teen, ped, mast, reluc)

***

My wife has worked for DCS (Department of Children's 
Services) in New Mexico for over 30 years. She's been 
the head of her department for almost half that time. 
Because she's the top banana there she can pretty much 
do what she wants. What that means is that "special" 
children end up staying at our house. Usually children 
who have a problem or have been abused in some way. My 
wife wants to keep a close eye on them and give them a 
lot of tender loving care if needed. 

I've always taken this rather strange lifestyle in 
stride. I was a Cement Truck Driver for over 30 years 
and wasn't home but in the evenings. But after I retired 
at 55 - with full benefits - things started to change 
around the house. For one thing I had to take a more 
active role in caring for my wife's little waifs. 

This story is actually about one of those children who 
stayed with us for a couple of months last year. Her 
name was Celesta and she was an American Indian from one 
of the local reservations that border many New Mexico 
towns around the state. 

She came to stay with us in June; apparently both of her 
parents were drug addicts and her mother beat her and 
her father molested her. Sheech... some people shouldn't 
have kids. 

The first time I saw Celesta I was struck by her looks. 
She was a pretty little thing who couldn't have been 
more than 12 years old, or so I thought. As it turned 
out she was really 15 and she was full of vinegar and 
piss as I was soon to find out. 

Even though she was a pretty girl I realized right from 
the beginning that she was strange. She didn't seem to 
know how to act in a civilized home. I'd be walking down 
the hall and pass by the bathroom only to see her 
sitting on the commode taking a dump with the door wide 
open. Or she'd sleep in the nude and think nothing of 
coming out into the kitchen in the morning to get a 
drink of water totally naked while my wife and I were 
eating breakfast. 

This little Indian girl was starting to get on my 
nerves. In more ways than one. 

One of the facts about getting older is that one's sex 
life begins to deteriorate. My wife started experiencing 
pain when we had intercourse shortly after she hit 
menopause. So for the past 7 years my sex life - other 
than what I did solo - was pretty much nonexistent. 

Then comes little Celesta and her nubile young body. I 
didn't want to stare at her, nor did I want to fantasize 
about fucking her teenage brains out, but after all, I 
was still a healthy male, and I had no outlet for my 
normal lust. 

That's the only excuse I can offer for what happened 
next. 

It was about 8 pm on a Thursday night and my wife had to 
work late, which happened usually at least once a week. 
I fixed dinner for Celesta and myself and after washing 
up we were sitting in the basement family room with the 
air conditioner turned up full blast watching Ally 
McBeal on the boob-tub. 

I had a habit of running the air conditioner really cold 
during the summer months and sitting on the couch with a 
blanket over my lap. I think I did that because of all 
the years I'd driven a truck and having been hot all day 
long, I enjoyed the luxury of being cold on my own time. 

Whatever the reason for this, it usually made it 
uncomfortable for everyone else since they dressed for 
the hot weather. That night instead of getting her own 
blanket Celesta moved over next to me and pulled the end 
of my blanket over to cover her bare legs. 

We'd been getting along pretty well for that past 
several weeks so I let the kid cuddle up to me for 
warmth. Besides she'd been starved for affection so I 
wasn't going to push her away. 

I guess another sign of age is that one tends to fall 
asleep in front of the TV. I remember waking up to my 
wife's cheery greeting and a warm little hand massaging 
my stiff cock all at the same moment. I was a little 
groggy and didn't quite know what was going on; then 
suddenly I was wide-awake. 

My wife was sitting in the easy chair across from us and 
talking to Celesta about her day at the office. The 
blanket was still covering both our bodies and that hand 
was still playing with my straining dong. I looked over 
at Celesta and she smiled happily back at me then asked 
my wife a question about her day as if nothing untoward 
was going on. 

I didn't know what to do; here I was being masturbated 
by a child with my wife sitting only a few feet away, 
totally oblivious to what was going on. I knew that I 
should have jumped up then and there and stopped 
Celesta. But two things stopped me from doing that. 

First what would it look like when I jumped out from 
under cover with a big old woody poking through the fly 
of my pants, how would I be able to explain that I was a 
totally innocent bystander. 

And the second reason was that I was about to cum! I 
hadn't "relieved" myself in almost a week and I guess 
while I was sleeping the girl's handiwork had brought my 
body along without my conscious knowledge. It was all I 
could do not to cum at that very moment while my wife 
was talking gaily about things I couldn't even 
understand. I was only aware of that teenager's hand 
pulling on my dong; bring me closer and closer to 
disaster. It felt wonderfully nasty. 

Then it was too late. I was cumming in big gushes and my 
face must have turned beet read, at least it felt hot 
and I felt this intense guilt, while at the same time my 
orgasm was one of the most intense of my life. 

Thank god my wife was so into her story that she didn't 
notice my reaction. I couldn't believe that she hadn't 
noticed what was going on right in front of her. We'd 
been through so much together; there was a time when she 
would have known just by looking into my eyes. 

But that night I sat there with Celesta smearing my 
slime all over my cock and balls with her little brown 
fingers, continuing to massage me into another arousal 
and me totally unable to do anything about it unless I 
wanted to tip my wife off to this terrible thing that 
was happening. 

Looking back at that night (which I've done often) I 
have to admit that it was quite pleasurable. I'd never 
really fantasized about a pretty young teenage girl 
jacking me off before, but I have plenty of times since. 
What can I say, I'm only human. 

I took an impromptu fishing trip the next day for a week 
down by El Morro. I can't believe that my wife suggested 
that I take Celesta with me, which I didn't do. When I 
got back from the trip I made sure that I stayed as far 
away from the little Indian girl as I could. And 
although we never discussed that night, I think she knew 
that I was disturbed by what had happened, by what she'd 
done. 

A month later my wife found Celesta a foster home and 
she was gone. I often wondered what happened at her new 
home. I heard that they had two teenage boys of their 
own. 

I've wondered and fantasized about that a lot over the 
past year. 

THE END 

Author's note: If this story sounds familiar it is 
because I wrote it sometime ago under a different author 
handle. I have revisited the story a bit, fleshed it out 
and republished it here. AB

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
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 system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 65