Jenny While She's Sleeping

by Just Jenny

The simple floral pattern of the single cotton sheet, which covers her sleeping form, is no match for the satin smooth flawlessness of her moonlight-illuminated skin. The silence of the room is in direct counterpoint to the shallow rapidness of my heartbeat as I stand over her, entranced by the perfect, enticing, contours of a body I know I have no sane right to desire.

But when it comes to her, to Jenny, with her coal black hair and sublimely inviting breasts, sanity is measured only by my ability to get through the daylight hours without succumbing to the ever present, near all-powerful urge to touch her. Taste her. Welcome her aroused nipples into the enveloping warmth of my mouth, even as the needful fingers of my shaking hands willingly explore the mysteries of the blessed, still virgin territories of her sweet, seductive 10-year-old pussy and ass.

Removing the fragile protection of the sheet from over her makes less disturbance in the still, warm, summer night air than the fluttering of a moth's wings. Not that overt caution is needed. The crushed sleeping pill slipped unobtrusively into her pre bedtime drink will have ensured the safety from discovery of my transgression. But I'm careful nonetheless. Such intimacy as this demands delicacy, discretion. The sheet dispensed with, the sight of her shadow-dappled body only enhances my arousal. It's perfect natural symmetry barely broken by the thin, loosely fitting tee shirt and white cotton panties that are the final barrier between my all-consuming needs and desires and her deeply sleeping flesh.

Even before I've finished lowering myself carefully on to the edge of the well sprung mattress, my hands have accomplished the task of edging the unresisting shirt up to expose the exquisite sight of those twin, porcelain pale, barely budding globes of still developing womanhood. A quick, slight, anticipatory flick of my tongue across my suddenly dry lips supplies the thin sheen of moisture required to lubricate the smooth entry of her left nipple into the dark cavern of my mouth. As, like some shadow dwelling Vampire, I experience the dark and exciting sensation of the deliberate breaking of a fundamental taboo. Even as my mouth continued to suckle on her beautiful little girl tit, my right hand danced across the expanse of her right tiny breast. The fingers pulling, twisting, coxing the pebble hard nipple into a state of erect arousal independent from Jenny's unnaturally sleeping consciousness. A small and distant moan escapes from between her slightly parted lips and her supple young body squirms ever so slightly under the automatically perceived effects of my gentle administrations. Spurred on by unwitting responses, I almost regretfully abandon her lightly rising and falling childish chest and turn my hungry attentions to an even more converted prize.

The panties slide down her long, slim legs as if wanting to aid me in their own strange, non-thinking way. Once removed, I have little difficulty in spreading her legs to expose the waiting source of the ultimate treasure I seek. As I slowly slide my head down and between her firm thighs the first sign of my success, apart from the musky, intoxicating aroma of her sex that fills my nostrils, is the tiny beads of moisture that glitter about the area of her pussy like so many tiny crystals of ice. Ice that melts instantly upon contact with the heat of my tongue as I begin a slow and methodical licking that travels inexorably from the tiny tight pucker of her asshole to the now proudly jutting peak of her clit. Touch, taste and smell intermingle into a senses enhancing magical potion that elevates my sudden, near overpowering, climax into perfect synchronization with the sluggish gyrations of her own slumber inhibited release.

Then, as suddenly, as rapidly as it arrived, it passes. Leaving me weak, yet elated. Remorseful, yet jubilant. Disgusted, yet paradoxically, proud at what my careful and long planned machinations have wrought.

With a mixture of reluctance and remorse, I replace her sleeping night attire and enshroud her reposed form once more with the minimal cover of the simple cotton sheet. I pause just long enough to place a gentle, loving kiss to the as yet uncareworn skin of her forehead. Then as gingerly and stealthily as I had entered, I make my departure from her room. The night is still and warm. Nothing stirs in the silence, except the slight swish of my robe as I tiptoe softly back to my room.

***

"You certainly took your time," The voice from the bed said with a sleepy edge of amusement. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Checking on Jenny," The reply had an audible edge of unease. But it was, thankfully, lost on the sleep heavy senses of the questioner.

"You worry far too much about that girl," The voice said with a hint of exasperation that held little in the way of genuine rebuke. "She's not a baby anymore, hon. She's going to be a young woman soon enough."

"Yes, a full grown woman," The reply held a far away quality, as if the words spoken concealed infinitely more than they expressed. "And a beautiful one at that."

"Takes after her mother." The voice from the bed said with a total simplicity borne of absolute certainty.

"Why, thank you, darling." She smiled secretively, as she licked the final aftertaste of her carefully planned, gloriously successful adventure from her lips, and gracefully slipped into the bed to take her accustomed place beside her unsuspecting husband.