My Weekend with Casey

by Kathy-Anne Niemann

The following story is a bit of a departure for me. I wanted to tell a story of the kind I usually like from the perspective of a man. I hope I got it close. This is purely a work of fiction. All characters and situations are fictional. All rights reserved. If you like it or have any pointers for me, feel free to email me. Enjoy!

Just so you know, it wasn't me that started any of this. I'm a pretty normal guy with normal needs, and I had never been attracted to younger girls before Casey strolled into my life.

She was my friend Heather's daughter. Heather and I were close, we dated for a while years ago back in college, but nothing much ever came of it. We remained friends, though, and we had each helped the other through our best and darkest moments.

Like when she got pregnant with Casey, going on twelve years ago now.

We were just out of college, and she was dating this guy who was a total jerk. He didn't hit her or anything, but he did fuck around on her, and he hit the road as soon as he heard Heather was pregnant. Heather raised Casey mostly on her own. She had guys that she dated off and on, but no one that she really liked well enough to want to turn into a daddy. Recently, Heather's been dating this guy named Miles, who she's pretty into. He's into her, too, and she seems as happy as I've ever seen her.

Me? I'm a confirmed bachelor. Like Heather, I've had girls I've dated, but none that I liked beyond a physical level. Heather thinks I have a fear of commitment, but all women think all men have a fear of commitment. They get their psychological training from "Sex and the City," and "Desperate Housewives." It's not that I'm afraid to commit, I'm just looking for the right woman to commit to.

Well, Heather and Miles were planning to head out of town for a weekend, to get away from town, and relax with each other. She'd won a spa weekend on a radio station, and she wanted to take Miles with her to first, get away from her life for a moment, and second, to see if she could stand to be alone with him for a whole weekend. She asked me if I would watch Casey for her while she was away. I said sure. I liked Casey well enough, but I didn't know how she felt about me. I didn't know how I'd entertain a twelve-year-old girl for a whole weekend, but I figured we'd figure it out eventually. We'd probably just watch TV and eat pizza and that was about it.

Heather dropped Casey off at my house on Friday night, and we watched from my porch as she and Miles drove off.

"Well?" I said, "what do you wanna do?"

Casey is skinny, her electric blonde hair stops halfway down her back, and has a bouncy little natural curl to it, it was pulled back in a ponytail, but her longish bangs swung free over her eyes. Her legs are long and coltish, just like all girls her age. She was wearing short jean shorts and a tight pink t-shirt, sneakers on her feet.

Casey shrugged at me, and followed me into my house.

"Wanna watch a movie?" I asked.

"Sure," she answered.

I pointed her toward my DVD collection, and told her to pick a movie out while I threw some popcorn in the microwave.

She said she liked horror movies, and chose "The Ring." I asked if her mom allowed her to watch rated R movies, and she sighed impatiently at me, planting her fists on her hips and saying, "I've seen like three rated R movies!"

I stifled a laugh and held up my hands. "Whoa there!" I joked, "I was just checking!"

I poured the popcorn into a big bowl and we moved into the living room, fired up the TV and settled in on the couch. We started the evening on opposite sides of the couch, picking handfuls of popcorn out of the bowl. Every now and then our greasy fingers would touch, but there was nothing sensual about it.

The opening scene of the movie is pretty scary. Two teenage girls alone in a house, telling ghost stories, and one of the stories actually comes true. By the end of the first scene, Casey decided that she didn't want to be on the opposite side of the couch from me, and she moved over and cuddled up against me. Again, nothing untoward, just a natural reaction to a scary movie.

Then, there's the scene where Naomi Watts is changing her dress, and walking around in her underwear. I've always had a thing for Naomi, and the sight of her in that black bra and panty combo never failed to get my juices flowing.

It was right about that moment when I started thinking about Casey in the way I was thinking about Naomi. I wondered in passing what kind of underwear Casey had on. She certainly wasn't old enough to need a bra, but she did have these little bumps on her chest, and this was the first time I realized how enticing a pre-teenaged girl's budding breasts were.

She was leaned against me, holding the popcorn bowl on her belly, and I had to put my arm around her to reach the popcorn. Here in this position, thinking these thoughts, it was getting hard to hide my boner.

Casey fell asleep halfway through the movie, curled up into my side, my arm still around her. I carried her to my extra bedroom and put her to bed stopping only to take off her shoes. My eyes were all over her lithe little body as I removed her shoes, but that's it. I didn't take any liberties with her.

I did, however, think horrible thoughts about her while I masturbated that night. I imagined her sexy little body on top of me, bobbing up and down. Her hair falling over her shoulders and hiding her tiny little breasts, her face contorting in ecstasy. I had a chore keeping myself quiet as I came, not wanting to wake up the sleeping girl in the next room.

The next day was Saturday, and I spent the morning cutting the lawn while Casey slept in. When I was done, I came back inside and found her back on the couch, watching Cartoon Network and munching on some Doritos. She'd changed into a loose fitting, flower print sun dress mostly brown in color, with matching sandals. She had on a yellow t-shirt underneath the dress, and her hair was loose.

She talked me into taking her to the mall, which killed most of the afternoon, and we headed back to my house at sundown so I could make dinner. I made spaghetti while Casey watched more TV. While we ate, Casey asked me: "Why don't you have a wife?"

I choked on my spaghetti and, after washing the food down with some water, I told her, "Well, because I haven't found a woman that I want to marry."

She nodded in understanding. Then, abruptly, she said, "Do you think my mom and Miles are having sex right now?"

Luckily, my mouth was empty. My face showed my discomfort, though, flushing red. "I don't know," I managed.

"They have sex all the time," Casey said, absently twirling her fork in her spaghetti. "I can hear them."

"Well," I said. "That's what grown ups do when they're in love."

"I guess," she said.

After we were done, I cleaned up the dinner dishes, and we ended back up on the couch. Casey idly flipped through the channels while I sat, wondering if it would be inappropriate for me to go fix myself a cocktail.

She stopped on MTV2, where a video by some pussy looking trust-fund-punk band was playing. Casey squealed and jumped off the couch. She cranked up the volume and jumped around the living room, singing along with the music while I watched. I caught a couple of glimpses of her pink underwear while her skirt billowed up and down as she danced. She seemed to notice me watching her, and then started mouthing the words to the song while looking directly at me. She danced seductively, no doubt mimicking the movements of the female pop artists she'd seen on TV. If she had any inkling that her movements were so seductive, she sure wasn't ashamed about it. Her thin fingers traced up and down her body, in and out of her hair as she sang along with the song. Once or twice, I saw her deliberately lift the hem of her skirt, tossing it around and displaying her lovely pink panties. Her body moved as lithely as a professional dancer, and I was captivated by her movement, and again aware that I was starting to firm up below decks.

When the song ended, she sat back down on the couch with me. She breathed heavily as the next video played. After a few moments, she rolled over and looked at me. "Did you like watching me dance?" she asked.

I nodded slowly, hoping the grin on my face wasn't as wolfish as I thought it might well be.

"I liked dancing for you," she said. "I think you're hot." With that, she turned back around, resting her head on my leg.

I didn't know what to say, so I clammed up. I wanted nothing more than to pull that dress off her, and let things take their course, but I also didn't want to go to jail.

She looked up at me, with her enormous blue little girl eyes, and asked, "Do you think I'm hot?"

"Casey," I started, sitting up on the couch. She squirmed her way around, kneeling on the couch and looking up at me, her chest still heaving from the dancing, her forehead beaded with sweat. "You're a very pretty little girl, but I don't think about you like that." My own forehead was sweating. Part of my brain was telling me to grab her and go to town, but my brain was also feeding me pictures of big men in orange jumpsuits licking my face.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because you're too young. And old men like me who do things with young girls go to bad places with worse people."

"I won't tell anyone if you think I'm hot," she said.

"It's not that," I countered. "It's just too weird."

Her face fell. "You think I'm weird?"

"No!" I said quickly. "But you're young. Your hormones are raging in your body and you don't know what to make of them. You're starting to discover your sexuality, but you don't know how to control it."

"I don't want to control it," she said, rising up and moving very near me. She put her arms around my neck and pulled herself to me.

I tried to push her away, I tried to take her arms off me, but it was too late. She put her tiny little mouth on mine and kissed me.

I relaxed for a moment, put my own arms around her impossibly skinny body and hugged her to me while we kissed. My left hand fell to her butt and I caressed it, feeling the outline of her panties under her dress. Her own hands explored my back and shoulders. My fingers weaved in and out of her golden hair.

We settled back into the couch and she climbed on top of me, straddling my midsection, still kissing me. She bucked against my aching erection. I put my hands on her hips and guided her movement. "Does that feel good?" she asked.

I nodded, barely able to speak. "Does it feel good for you?" I asked once I was able.

She nodded back, and dove back in for another kiss.

After a moment, she broke the kiss and leaned back, her hands on my pectorals. "Do you wanna take a bath with me?" she asked.

I was too far gone to worry about jail. All I wanted was to feel her moving against me. I wanted to feel her little hand gripping my dick, I wanted to nut on her chest and rub it into her like lotion. I nodded.

She stood up, taking me by the hand and leading me into the bathroom.

She sat me down on the toilet seat, and started the water in the tub, pouring in a generous helping of bubble bath fluid that had been sitting on the edge of my tub since my last girlfriend had been here.

Turning back to me, humming the song that she had danced to in my living room, she started unbuttoning my shirt. It slid off my torso and she moved her fingers through my chest hair. We kissed again while she unbuttoned my jeans. I slid them off my legs, never breaking the seal my lips had made with hers. I took off my boxer shorts next, and kicked them into the corner. Totally naked, my boner standing straight up and feeling like it was about to burst, my hands were unable to leave her body, my lips strained against hers.

She broke the kiss, standing up straight. "Take my dress off," she whispered. I grabbed the hem of her dress, and she raised her arms above her head while I lifted the dress up, as slowly as I was able. My eyes fixed on her pink cotton panties, and the little camel toe in the pink material where her legs met. The dress came off, but I kept her yellow t-shirt on. I threw the dress into the corner with the rest of my clothes. "Now my shirt," she said, almost impatiently. She lifted her hands above her head again and I pulled the yellow shirt up, slowly revealing her flat, milk-white stomach, her visible ribs, her white-pink nipples on her almost nonexistent breasts. The shirt went into the corner and she stood in front of me in her pink panties, her eyes hooded and her mouth slightly ajar. Never taking my eyes from hers, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them over her hips, down her glass-smooth legs. She kicked them onto the pile of clothes and we embraced again. I folded her in my arms and we again brought our mouths together. She kissed my neck, my shoulders, my upper arms. I moved my hands up and down her incredible body, thumbing her little nipples, her hips.

By now, the bath was full. Casey broke our kiss and said, "You first."

I stood up, my penis standing at full attention, sticking out ridiculously, pointing directly at her sternum. I slid into the hot water and relaxed against the back of the tub. "Your turn," I said. I held her hand as she stepped into the water. My eyes strayed to her body, her perfectly bald slit which opened delicately as her legs spread while she entered the tub. She caught me looking, and stood in front of me, legs on each side of my stomach. "Do you like my pussy?" she asked, the tips of her fingers tracing the crease that formed where her leg met her pussy.

"Yes," I said. "I think it's hot."

She laughed at that.

"But not as hot as you are," I continued.

She laughed harder and came toward me.

She laid against me, hugging my midsection. Her body pressed against my aching boner, the slimy feeling of her against it almost unbearable. She writhed around, sliding her body up and down mine, the soapy water lubricating her movement and causing sensations I had never imagined before. We kissed some more, and I guided her up to sit on my stomach. She playfully fashioned a bra out of the foamy bubbles and posed in it. After a while of this, I blew the bubbles away and kissed her chest, paying special attention to her nipples. This position caused my dick to slide up comfortably by her butt crack, and she seemed to enjoy this sensation.

She reached behind her, then stopped suddenly. "Can I touch your wee wee?" she asked.

I laughed at her nomenclature, but said, "Yes," trying like hell to control my excitement.

She continued her movement, and I felt the palm of her hand on the vein on the underside of my dick. She slid it up and down the shaft a couple times, and I had to concentrate to keep from nutting right there. She stood up and slid down a bit in the tub, trying to get a better position on me. As she moved, the head of my dick slid down the crack of her ass, continued under her pussy slit, and it was all I could do to keep myself from shooting her in the eye.

She gripped the shaft of my dick, squeezing it gently. "Does that hurt?" she asked.

"No," I said, "but be careful."

She ran her fingernails over my balls, up and down my shaft, around the head.

It was too much. I had to stop her. I pulled her up to me, and kissed her passionately again.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"If you keep doing that," I said, "I'm going to climax, and I don't want to stop making love to you just now."

"Is that when you jizz?" she asked, laying on top of my stomach, her finger circling one of my areolas.

I laughed at this. "How do you know about all this stuff?" I asked.

"The internet," she answered.

"I think I'll have a talk with your mom about limiting your internet time," I said, jokingly.

She took the joke as it was intended. "Then we'd never be doing this," she said.

"True enough," I agreed.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked me.

"Sure."

"Will you touch my pussy?"

"If you want," I said.

"I do."

I maneuvered her off me, onto her side, and kissed her again as my hands moved down her body. My right hand found her crotch, and I touched it gently while we kissed. Her breathing quickened as I explored her slit. She lifted her left leg up to allow me better access and I moved my middle finger up and back on her slit, over her inner lips, over her tiny little clit. "That feels awesome," she breathed.

For a while, the only sound in the room was our heavy synchronized breathing and the gentle sloshing of water.

She grabbed my dick again while I worked at her pussy, and she pumped her hand up and down on me.

I got close to losing it. I had to fight to keep myself from coming, and the last thing in the world I wanted to do was stop what Casey and I were doing. I pulled my hand out of her crotch and sat up. "I think we should continue this in my bedroom," I said.

"Okay," she said, between heavy breaths.

I stood up first, grabbing a towel and drying off, wiping the clinging bubbles off my body. She pulled the plug in the tub, and stood up to join me. I wrapped the towel around her and held her to me, drying her off.

I put the towel around her shoulders, and she stood shivering in the bathroom while I put on my robe.

"Go in my room," I said. "I'll be in in a minute."

She ran out of the bathroom and I saw her disappear into my bedroom.

I grabbed a jar of Vaseline and went to the kitchen. I poured myself a shot of whiskey and slammed it back, relishing the feeling of the warmth going down my neck.

I strode to the bedroom, and found Casey curled up in the towel on my bed. She opened her arms when I mounted the bed, and I relaxed on top of her, careful not to crush her. The kissing continued, the touching continued, each with more intensity as the minutes passed.

She broke our kiss and looked me in the eyes. "I want you to put it in me," she said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, don't feel like we have to go there if you don't want to."

"I want to," she said. "I want to feel you in me."

"If you're sure," I said.

"I'm sure," she assured me.

I put my hand on her pussy, exploring with my finger to gauge how wet she was. it was wet down there, but it wouldn't hurt if I helped her along.

Grabbing the jar of Vaseline, I took a fingerful and rubbed it up and down the shaft of my dick, working it around the head.

I was ready. "You're sure," I asked again.

"Will you do it already?" she complained.

"Okay, okay," I said. I moved up. She spread her legs and I guided myself toward her waiting opening.

I rested my head against her, and gently pushed. Her face contorted in equal parts pain and pleasure. "Tell me if I'm hurting you and I'll stop," I said.

Casey shook her head, but remained silent. I continued forward, slowly, pushing myself into my young lover.

She breathed in sharply when I broke her hymen, a tear escaped her eyes, and I stopped my motion, but she urged me onward. I kissed her tear away as I pushed.

After a time, I was as far inside her as I dared to go.

She grabbed one of my butt cheeks in each of her hands and urged me on. I moved out and in slowly at first, gaining momentum as I saw she was able to handle it.

Squeals of delight escaped her lips as I moved. It was hard to keep myself at bay, I wanted to give her the satisfaction of coming first.

She was so tight around my dick, her body was so gorgeous underneath me. I wondered why I'd hesitated when she first came on to me. Her body writhed as I moved. Her chest rose and fell with pleasure, and her face changed by the second. Eventually, I saw her tighten up, felt her vaginal muscles clench against me as she orgasmed. The squeezing on my dick did it for me, and I pulled out, letting loose all over her stomach and chest. I pumped myself hard as I came and came and came. Never had I come like that. I collapsed on the bed, unable to catch my breath, loving the sound of Casey breathing beside me. I rolled on my side, rubbing my juice into her creamy skin, while we both recovered.

We fell asleep in each others' arms. In the middle of the night, she woke me up and we went at it again. I gave her her first lesson in fellatio, and I licked her pussy until she screamed with pleasure.

When I awoke, we were spooning. She had pushed herself up against me, cuddled into my body. We were both still naked and she was breathing softly. I untangled myself from her, careful not to wake her, and tip-toed to my bathroom, where we'd shared our wonderful bath the night before. I looked at myself in the mirror, thinking about the encounter. Sex with a twelve year old girl. If anyone found out, I'd be crucified. Forget about losing my friendship with Heather, I'd spend the rest of my life in jail, and I've heard stories about what they do to child molesters in jail.

Did I really molest her, though? After all, she came on to me. In fact, I fought against it.

Yeah, I thought, like any jury in the world is going to believe that SHE forced herself on ME. I was done. All it would take was a slip of the tongue, a moment of forgetfulness. I was as good as dead. Last night it had felt wonderful, transcendant, glorious, but in the light of morning, it was looking a lot more like horrible, depraved and perverted.

I felt hands on me, felt a warm body on my back, and arms around my sides. Looking in the mirror, I saw Casey’s creamy arms grasping my midsection, not even meeting in the middle.

I turned around, and Casey looked up at me, smiling. “G’Morning,” she said cheerfully. She was still as naked as I was, her hair a mess of bed head. I put my arms around her and hugged her against me. Her head rested on my belly, her hand moved up and down my side, causing a tremor in my groin I had to fight back.

“Morning,” I answered.

“What’s wrong?” Casey asked.

I grabbed her under her arms and hoisted her onto the counter next to the sink, so I could look at her, more or less eye to eye. “What we did last night is wrong,” I said.

“No it wasn’t,” she assured me, putting her arms around my neck, and pulling me close to her.

“I’m serious, Casey,” I told her. “If anyone finds out about this. And I mean EVER, I will go to jail for a very long time.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she said, comfortingly.

“I know you don’t want to, but you never know what is going to happen in the future.”

Her eyes were wide and worried. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” she told me. “Not after what you did for me last night.”

“What I did to you last night is called Statutory Rape, and I assure you, it’s no laughing matter.”

“If my mom ever found out what we did last night, I’d be in more trouble than you,” she reasoned in the way only a girl of her age could.

“I seriously doubt that,” I said. “Now get dressed and I’ll get breakfast ready.”

“You’re worrying about nothing,” Casey said. She unclasped her hands and slid one of her hands down my front, toward my dick, which was semi-firm despite the fact that I was trying to convince myself that I didn’t want anything more to do with her. Maybe it was her smell, maybe it was some kind of pheromone humans can only detect on a subconscious level. She touched my cock, and I pulled away from her, all the way to the other side of the bathroom.

She sat naked on the counter, legs spread, arms resting between them, tiny little breasts squeezed between her biceps, eyes large and wanting.

“I know you want me,” she said. “You can have me, and you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Casey, stop,” I said. “We can’t do this.”

“Look,” she said. “If you’re already going to jail, what is a couple more times going to matter?”

She was right. It wasn’t like I was going to go to any MORE jail for continuing our highly immoral activities. Maybe I was rationalizing, maybe I was looking for an excuse. Whatever the reason, it worked.

I stepped toward her, and she held her arms out to me, exposing her tiny bald pussy. She folded me in her arms and pulled me to her. My cock, once again rock hard, pushed against her belly and strained at the touch. We kissed passionately again, and she guided my cock to her waiting, damp doorway. I pushed my head in slowly, and she breathed heavily as I moved in.

We held together tightly as I pushed and she accepted. Little moans of pleasure escaped her lips, and they built into groans. The groans became gasps, and the gasps became screams. I even got into it, grunting and moaning as the pleasure of her body and her willingness overwhelmed me.

She yelled so loud, I wondered if the neighbors could hear us. I quickly decided I didn’t much care. The consequences were dire, but let’s worry about them later, I thought.

I pushed and strained until my back was sweaty and slick. She bucked and throbbed against me, wild moans of pleasure escaping her mouth.

Again, I pulled out just before my climax, and I sprayed her belly with my juice. She rubbed it into herself, meeting my eyes as she tasted her fingers. She made a face when she tasted me, but was polite about it. I’d never tasted my own cum, but I never assumed it would taste that good.

We sat there, holding each other, breathing heavily, still moaning. We stared at each other for a long time, forehead to forehead, without moving until our breathing slowed.

Afterward, we showered together. I soaped her lithe little body up, and she worked on mine. She was working on my dick and it got hard again, and she slid it into her mouth. I picked her up by the armpits, and she put her arms around my neck. We kissed and licked each other while I maneuvered myself into her again. She bobbed up and down on me, the soapy water making our bodies slippery and our love ridiculously exciting. When I came, I pulled out again and she jerked me off as I spewed.

We finished showering and I made her breakfast.

That whole Sunday, we were on the couch, naked with each other. Heather was due to pick her up at five that night, so we had all day to lounge around and do nothing.

She made me masturbate for her while she watched, and I made her do the same.

We fucked a total of five times on the couch, while the TV played. By now, I was so lost in her spell, I didn’t care anymore about jail.

All I wanted was to be with this little insatiably curious angel.

But the time came for us to get dressed and get ready for Heather to pick Casey up. She put on a pink flowered dress with a short skirt, and put her hair back in a ponytail.

“So?” I asked.

“So,” she said.

“I had fun.”

“Me too,” she said. “Thanks for teaching me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about what we did.”

I nodded. “That’d be for the best, I think.”

She hugged me again, and we held each other for a long time, her head resting on my belly, my hands on her back. She looked up at me and said, “Maybe sometime, I could come over and we could play around again?”

“Sure,” I said. “But we have to be secret about it.”

“I know,” she said.

We held each other like that until Heather came to the door. I answered it while Casey got her bag out of the guest room. We exchanged pleasantries. Apparently the weekend had been a smashing success for her too. “I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble,” Heather said when Casey arrived.

“None at all,” I said. “She was perfect.”

Casey looked up at me, and winked. I winked back, and a whole conversation was exchanged in that simple act.

“Okay,” Heather said, “time to go.”

Casey put her arms out and I leaned down to give her a hug. While we were hugging, she whispered in my ear, “I left something for you in your bed.”

And then, she was walking across the front yard, into the car, waving goodbye as they drove down the street.

I closed the door and hurried to my room. There, on one of the pillows, was a pair of Casey’s panties. The pink ones she’d showed me when she was dancing in the living room. The ones I’d slid off her slender hips in my bathroom before the first time we made love to each other.

Out in the living room, I cracked a beer and ignored the TV while I replayed this wonderful weekend in my head. Playing with Casey’s panties in my hand, I found myself hoping that I’d have another encounter with her. And that it wouldn’t be too far in the future.