I was nervous. Understandably so: it was my first visit to FiFi, and despite what Kathy had told me I wasn't sure what I would find.

Or who I'd find. Oh, of course I'd seen the photos from Kathy. God knows where she got them even if they were the model of innocence. Smiling, pretty little girls in lovely frocks with their hair in bunches, sat on swings (knees together before you get excited) and looking like little girls having a good time anywhere. But the good time they offered here was, well, nothing to do with fun in the park.

This would be fun in the bedroom. But the 'guest' couldn't choose who they got, who came through the door, so you had no idea which little girl would come to you. Even if one did. That was the risk; you could wait and be disappointed.

I sat in the small room I had been allocated. A single easy chair - the red velvet effect type you find in hotels - and a three-quarter size bed. As Kathy said, you won't be needing a full-size double bed. The walls were plain, finished in a pleasant pale blue, with two pictures in frames. Nothing salacious. Nothing that would suggest what Club FiFi was really about, just a picture of a view of some lake at evening and another of a country lane with a thatched cottage.

There was a small dressing table with a mirror, and a jug of water and two glasses, by the window. Curtains drawn of course. I got up, nervously wiped the palms of my hands on my skirt and went to get a drink of water. I was shaking as I poured it, and the glass jug clinked against the glass.

It sounded loud. Almost as loud as the way my heart was beating. "Get a grip, Julie," I told myself. "This probably won't amount to anything."

But I hoped it was something after driving thirty miles to get here. A very real something. But even Kathy couldn't guarantee it. No one could. Sometimes she said they don't have enough girls, she had warned me not to get my hopes up too much. Sometimes you turn up and wait and nothing happens.

I sipped the water, and then looked at my watch: a present from my husband and that made me think of him at home. Steady, safe, reliable Harry. Probably looking up some porn on the internet, glad his wife was out for the evening. Out visiting friends, of course. Won't be home until late. Plenty of time for him to get off on looking at lesbians licking each other out. God, if only he knew! Well, better he doesn't.

And all the time I am here hoping to so the same, but he doesn't know that. Harry's wife of thirty one years, good old silly Julie, wouldn't have the smarts to do anything interesting, would she? Nothing daring, hey?

Well, I do have the smarts. I found out about Club FiFi, made myself known to them with Kathy's help, was approved and here I am. Nervous as hell and waiting. Waiting and wondering.

I was tempted to peek out of the window, but Kathy said the thick curtains must remain closed, even if it was daylight outside. Anyway, the view would be of some industrial estate. A blank factory wall, probably. Club FiFi had to be pretty anonymous, all things considered.

I sat again, this time on the edge of the bed. It was soft and had nice satin-edged pillows. Warm in there, under the sheets, I thought.

I got up and went into the tiny room in one corner of the main room. Just a washroom with a small sink and a toilet, but a clean towel. An air freshener on the small shelf under the mirror. I used the loo and emerged, straightening my skirt. I checked my watch again. I had been here forty minutes, and a sinking feeling was on me. All this way for a wait and then someone to tell me there was no little girl available. I'd go home, pretending everything was okay with Harry. Trying not to see if he'd managed to get semen on his trousers. Stupid man.

So here I was. A fifty two year old woman, waiting for a five year old in a room - a bedroom - put aside for women like me.

A woman in the Club FiFi. A woman over fifty, qualifying to go to bed with a girl of five. Or six, if they were short of five year olds. Kathy said sometimes they had to have girls as old as seven or eight, but Club FiSe just didn't have the same catchy ring to it.

Club Fifty-Five was much better. FiFi for short.

At the moment I'd take a girl aged nineteen, just to have a cum. Then I thought: no, Julie, you wouldn't. I hadn't driven all this way and put everything on the line to go with some teenage good time girl. This club was for mature women and small girls.

Kathy would be having some nineteen year old herself, off in some quiet corner of a car park, sprawled on the back seat of her husband's car. Some young hookers would do anything - and perhaps it made a pleasant change for them, not having to suck an old man's semi-hard cock. "It's the fact they haven't got tits in the Club," said Kathy, when she told me she liked young women but not as young as FiFi offered. She'd been a member of the club, and recommended me to join. But she said she needed a pussy shaved bald, not bald by lack of years. Oh yes, and boobs. Her favourite teenage sex objects had hefty busts. Preferably spilling out of low cut tops. Maybe with nipple rings and a tattoo.

Funny woman Kathy, but she knows what she wants. Animal-like, she says. For her it isn't about love and affection, but rutting. She says she made her hubby buy a car with a big back seat so she can scissor her paid women on it. Clamping the clams, as she says. Her choice, and definitely not mine.

How long did it take me to finally admit what I truly wanted? To myself, about fifteen minutes after I was married to Harry. To even my closest friend Kathy it took me the best part of thirty years. But then liking small girls - very small girls - is a little hard to admit. It wasn't something I was going to discuss with Harry during our monthly fuck.

I checked my watch again and wondered if I should undress, just in case a child came by late and I was short of time. Club FiFi provided two dressing gowns - adult and child size in a deep red satin - but I thought I might look desperate in one, so I sat in the clothes I had arrived in and fussed over the pattern on my skirt.

I had too much time, and my mind was wandering. I thought, what if I don't like the child? What if she doesn't like me? She might say I look too much like her mother, or maybe not enough like her mother. No, wait... I am being stupid: like her grandmother, I corrected myself.

God, am I that old? Yes, to a five year old I would be ancient.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Grey hair, cut short. Large earrings. Do they really go with my blouse, or was I imagining it when I got ready earlier? I got up to take them off, and was startled by a soft rap at the door.

Heart pounding I opened it. I half expected. half feared, one of the ladies who runs the place saying there were no more girls tonight, and would I please vacate the room?

But it was a little girl, and she smiled at me. I don't know if she was one of the girls in the pictures I'd seen but I didn't care: she was lovely.

"Hi," I said, my throat dry and tight.

She chuckled at my squeak. "Hello. Miss, I'm Coral," she grinned up at me. And then she did this little bobbing curtsy and looked oh so cute I almost dragged her into the room. I didn't, as we hardly knew each other, and as Kathy said: "For fuck's sake don't scare them."

For fuck's sake, yes. Perfect.

"Coral," I echoed and let her in, staring at her blonde hair, her little body in her thin, pretty yellow dress. Short skirt, as I like. Little white ankle socks, as I adore. The child skipped in and hopped on to the bed.

"This bed's nice," she said. "Not like some. They're hard an' uncomfy."

Oh goodness, an expert. I felt a surge of heat in my cunt. An expert little girl who has been here before, someone who has made love to a woman like me.

"You're nice," she said brightly. "I like your blouse. Can I take it off?" She said, hopping off the bed. Without hesitation she was in front of me, unbuttoning me.

"You wear a bra?" She asked as it came open. "Some ladies here don't an' they are all saggy. But I don't mind. Oh yes," she smirked as my chest was revealed. "It's a nice bra and lovely big titties." She reached up and took them in her small hands, running them over my white bra cups. A new bra, bought for the occasion, as were my knickers. Perhaps I should have bought a red set, but then Harry would have noticed. I really didn't want him distracted from jerking off at home when I went out.

I moaned slightly as her hands were on my bust, working round the boobs. "Can I go inside?" She asked, and again without waiting worked her small hands in the cups, looking for my nipples. Rock hard and aching nipples, of course, as befits a woman aroused.

"Nice," she said again as she found them, eyes on mine. "You wanna undress me?"

"Yes," I breathed, but she didn't let go of me. She was pinching my nipples. Someone must have shown her what to do, and I marvelled at how good she was, how hot I was getting. It hurt in the nicest way imaginable.

She let go. Sadly. But she put her arms out and turned, inviting me to undo the small buttons at the back of her dress. She couldn't have put it on herself, and I imagined her mother doing it, saying things like: "And don't forget Coral to be nice to the lady when you make love."

Quite how I didn't have an orgasm then and there I will never know.

"Your hands are shaking," said the girl over her shoulder as I fumbled a little.

"Yes," I agreed. "You are so lovely."

"'Kew," she said, grinning. "What's your name?"

"Julie" I said. Julie with the wet knickers, I almost added. The buttons were undone and I peeled her little dress off her. She had a vest on, white cotton panties. A little pattern of flowers on them, red petals. Should have been red lips, lush and full.

"Julie, can you take my vest 'n' knicks off 'cos I am hot."

Hot indeed. She didn't have to ask, but I did it for her, easing them off, seeing that flat chest and gorgeous bald slit for the first time. I wanted to kiss her nipples, worship her cunnie. Kiss her little bum with its firm, pink cheeks.

I helped her off with her shoes and socks, aware as she sat on the chair that her legs were apart and I could see so clearly. Whatever happens to me, I will never forget that wonderful view, inches from my face.

"Now your turn", she said, when naked. She stood on the chair and I stood, so she could take off my blouse, unhook my bra. Then she got down and undid my skirt, pulled it down along with my waist slip.

"Oooh, you're trembling, Julie," Coral said with a chuckle.

"Yes," I agreed as my new white panties came into view. Those control ones that hold the tummy in, firm up the bum. I hoped she wouldn't be disappointed in me, how I looked naked. Thats the trouble with underwear, it lifts and holds but out of it, well... it can be disappointing.

But Coral wasn't fazed, but she did say: "I don't wanna take your knicks off."

I felt a wave of disappointment, and bit my lip.

She was back on the chair and grinning. "That's 'cos I want to put my hand inside, feel you that way."

"Oh God," I gasped as I stood facing her. She did what she said, and reached down inside the waist band of my panties. The elasticated fabric was tight on her small hand but it wormed down and I gave a strangled cry as she found my bush. "Oooh, hairy," she smirked. "Last lady I was with shaved down there. She was all stubbly." Coral wrinkled her cute nose. "But I like hair. I like finding it in there."

It. Clit. Yes, I nodded. Please find it and work it out from its hood.

She did and I clutched her, so I wouldn't fall and she wouldn't pull away. She worked her finger on that hard nub, tight in my pants. I said "Fuck," and she laughed.

"Naughty Julie," she laughed, and worked my clit harder. Faster. I came, twitching and hardly able to breathe, my gasps catching in my throat.

"And your nips," she whispered, "They're all hard and big." As I shuddered through my orgasm, her other hand came up and found one of my hard nipples. "Nice," she said, and pinched it.

How my legs didn't give way I will never know. I gazed into her soft eyes and plunged my mouth to her lips, tongue in like a homing missile. She gurgled at the invasion but didn't move either hand. Thank God.

I was hers and she knew it. I was just another old woman she brought off, but she was my golden angel. My long lost joy.

I kissed that girl like I had waited for her all my life. Well, I suppose I had. Seeing other women's girls, at the shops, daughters of friends and family. Yes, my own child Pauline when she was little, even my granddaughter Sara... Oh my God, I had wanted them all. And now this Coral was here in my arms, playing with me as if she owned me.

In that moment I understand the way Club FiFi was. Not Fifty-Five as I thought, but Five- Fifty. I understood the angels who came here used us older women, for they had the power. Little angels like Coral knew how to manipulate and use older women, how to tease and please.

I was hers, and she knew it.

Coral let go of me and skipped over to the bed, bouncing on it. "Come here for fuckies, big lady," she laughed, as if it was a huge joke. She even had her legs apart, so I could see what I was getting. I threw myself on the bed, her laughing as my big tits wobbled and bounced. I wasn't ladylike at all.

She said I had to take my "big knickers" off and she said I should smell them, to make sure they were nice and smelly. They were wet from where I had cum, and I sniffed them as required, while she chuckled at me. A mature women smelling her own knicker crotch, being laughed at by a naked girl. God, was I hot then!

Then we made love, Coral and me, or rather she did what she wanted to me. I would never have believed it possible that a child so small, so innocent looking, knew so much. She knew how to kiss, how to toy, how to finger me and find my clit. She knew how to lick and suck and bite. Best of all Coral knew how to fist me. A small fist but I came like an express train out of a tunnel, whistle blowing and headlamps glaring bright.

"Oh Coral," I moaned as I came down from possibly the best orgasm ever.

"Hush, Julie," she said. "If you are nice to me I might do it with both hands."

Oh heavens, I was so nice to her!

But she kept me waiting for that joy. In the meantime I was permitted (yes, that's right, she permitted me!) to kiss her small pussy. I was given permission to put my tongue into those perfect little folds. She told me how good I was and said she liked me kissing her kitty as she called it. Then I had to stop kissing pink kitty and start kissing brown kitty, so I licked her bumhole until she said it was time for me to get down on my hands and knees on the floor.

I did, trembling at what was to come.

"I like to ride big ladies as my horse," she laughed, giving my big bum cheeks a playful slap and then climbing on me and straddling my back. I groaned: this was humiliating, almost a torture to feel that soft, hot little cunt of hers on my back, knowing she was rubbing on me as I laboured to be the horse for her, trotting round the floor of the room as she bounced on me. She was getting the thrill and I was getting turned on at being used like this.

Kathy told me later that the small girls at FiFi are trained and taught to use older women, do things to them and control them. Apparently it is a natural trait in girls that young. All it needs is to be brought out. Coral was a natural, I will give her that.

When she had stopped me being a horse I was allowed to use my tongue in both holes for her as she lay back, dreamily. I was revelling in serving her. In fact, looking back the dynamics had changed in our sex. At first I thought we were making love. It was only as I pushed my tongue deep in her back passage that I realised it was now all me doing things.

"Coral," I said, lifting my head. "You said you would put both your hands in me... double fisting." I added a nice "Please," too.

"Changed my mind," smirked the child. "Wanna play spankies," she chuckled. Me on hands and knees again, my arse being slapped by her small hand. It only hurt a little, but I was ready to come from so much abuse. She knew it too and put her cute little foot up to my gaping, wet cunt and used her toes to fuck me while I remained on all fours, my tits hanging free and my nipples aching with the need for attention.

My pussy was dripping on to the carpet as I stayed in that position and she had a little rest on the bed, idly telling me about the big ladies she had used and how she liked it when we all did what she said.

I was a horse, a dog, a willing obedient slut. I was a woman who thought she would find love in Club FiFi, and was finding I desperately needed to be used and abused by a little girl. Whatever Coral wanted to do to me was fine by me, whatever she wanted me to do to her was heaven. I was hers and I would obey to get any pleasure she cared to give me.

Even being spanked by her was pleasurable. Even having my panties stuffed in my mouth when she spanked me was heavenly. Even when she made me kneel and slapped my tits and chuckled at them wobbling.

Our time together was up all too quickly. I dressed her, kissed her one last time and she left, leaving me to get dressed, hands shaking, my whole body on fire. I left the building to find my friend Kathy, who had no doubt enjoyed her prostitute in the back of her husband's car.

"You enjoyed it, I can see," she grinned at me when I got in her car, still shaking a little. "Being slapped around," she laughed. "Maybe I should have told you that was what it was."

"No problem. But she was wonderful," I gasped as she began to drive us back home. Back to my safe Harry and his secret porn collection. A man not knowing that his wife was a lesbian slut, made to cum by a small girl. Kathy going home to a husband who didn't know she had sex with hookers in the back of his big, new car.

I was purring as we drove, thinking about it all. Feeling the heat in my backside where she had spanked me. Then I remembered: Coral never had got round to double-fisting me. But then, I would be going back many times and if I saw her again, I would beg her to do that no matter what she did to me. Or any other little girl for that matter.

FiFi would soon be my second home, and I smiled at at the pleasures that lay ahead when I went back there. With Coral or any other little girl for that matter.

"Same time next week?" I asked my friend, when we got home.

"Oh yes," she laughed. "At least, it will be if you could lend me some cash for our next visit."

"I will," I sighed. "Believe me I will do anything for a child like that."

The end