Gwen
by Friar Dave

This is fiction, as are all the characters, settings and names. It's explicit, it's graphic, it's sexual. It involves a young woman. If such offends you, read no further. It's also (c) copyrighted by the author. 

This is an original story. Do not repost, reproduce or place in public archives without the author's explicit permission. Please do not edit or change anything in it, including this tag. 

Moving is nasty, at best; at worst, it's a nightmare. I've had practice, so I know what I'm talking about.
On the other hand, the kittens - Drat and Scat - thought it was a great idea: "All those boxes to jump in and out of! All that newspaper to attack! All that string to savagely maul! Hey, why don't we do this more often?"
The new place wasn't as big as the old one, and the rent was higher. But I was within walking distance of my Midtown office, and I'd judged the savings in subway fare and traveling time to be more than worth it. The fireplace was a bonus. It was April, there was a chance of a cold snap later in the week and ad production had added a stunning but shy Valkyrie of a beauty who'd confessed to finding she couldn't "resist feeling all romantic and licentious in front of a crackling fire..."

Fireplace time!
Moving day came and went in a blur of big, burley men and a surprisingly small truck. By the time moving day was over, I was exhausted, and the only things I'd carried were the box containing the kittens and, of course, my computer equipment; nobody - but nobody - messes with my 'puter but Yours Truly. I slept on the floor, but I was so tired that it still felt great to snooze. My back, of course, did not share the sentiment when I woke the next morning to the delightful sound of the intercom buzzing. My new furniture had arrived.
I spent most of that day - a Tuesday - and the next unpacking and setting up my entertainment electronics and kitchen stuff. At about seven on Wednesday night, two of my nephews, Jerome and Robert, came by - per my invitation - to collect some of the books I was unloading. (My new place didn't have room for a Library Wall.)
They were fine young men. Jerry was almost 19 and Bob was 21. Both were on spring break from their out-of-state colleges and had just finished a day of grounds-keeping at a country club near their home in Bergen County. They were accompanied by Gwen, their little sister.
Gwen had just turned 13. Like her brothers, she was pale and blonde, and a glance at any of them immediately identified the Irish roots. Where Jerry and Bob were taller than me and lean, Gwen was slim and maybe an inch over five feet tall. Over the last year, she'd begun making the transition from Barbie dolls to Fashion Victim. Gwen was a real cutey, with the familial dose of bright blue eyes and perfect, fine-boned Irish handsomeness. She was also quite a tomboy. In the winter she played basketball, volleyball and skated; in the warm weather, she played left field for her school's softball team and was reputed to be outstanding at soccer. And she was an avid karate student two afternoons each week, year-round. She planned to go for her brown belt that summer. Her tomboyishness and (probably consequential) late entry into puberty were reassuring to her brothers, who were ferociously jealous and protective of their baby sister.
The boys collected their books and wouldn't hear of letting me treat them to dinner; they were eager to get back to Ridgewood, where a friend was throwing a keg party. (Well, we are an Irish family.) We talked a bit about sports, the layout of the new place and the worsening morale of a recently and traumatically divorced relative. All of the while, Gwen busied herself by unpacking more of my kitchen tools, interrupting now and then only to ask where I wanted something put.
Eventually, they'd left, both young men carrying under each arm a box of books I could barely lift with both hands, and Gwen carrying the few books she'd found interesting. I showered, changed and went out to dinner. Ho-hum. I came back, read myself to weariness and settled onto my ever-harder floor.
As I dozed off, I found myself remembering something I'd just sort of noted in passing earlier: Gwen was actually showing the first signs of maturing.
Hey, kids do that - growing up. It happens, you know.
Within 24 hours, that fact was going to be burned into my consciousness.

It was around 11 on Thursday morning. I had just settled down to my second cup of coffee for the day and was contemplating getting my computer equipment set up. Two guys - and one small but surprisingly strong gal - from Aquabed had come, set up my waterbed and gone. The hose from the kitchen faucet into the bedroom was merrily filling the mattress with lukewarm water. I was looking forward to sleeping on something softer than a parquet floor. So was my back. I was doubly looking forward to the waterbed. I'd had one when I'd lived in the Village, years before, and sleeping (not to mention, sex) on that comfortable, warm surface was something I (and my back) missed even more than the fireplace I'd also given up when moving to Brooklyn.
I was puffing my pipe, sipping my coffee and watching the kittens make merry with each other when the intercom buzzed. I couldn't imagine who it might be. Sure, The Cable Company was scheduled to install my box that day, but given TCC's well-earned reputation, I knew that meant I wouldn't get hooked up for another week, and I could expect to spend the next six months trying to get the company to remove the charge for that week from my bill.
"Who is it?"
"Gwen! Can I come up?"
"Uh, sure..." I buzzed her into the hallway and frowned. What was she doing here? We'd never been particularly close.
The kittens, having heard the buzzer, had gone into Frantic Mode, skidding crazily back and forth across the gleaming parquet. At the knock on my door, however, they froze and then leaped into a box (overturning said box).
I opened the door and blinked at my little cousin's brilliant smile. "Come on in," I invited. I closed the door behind her, setting all three locks and the steel brace-bar (this is Manhattan, you know) and asked, "So what brings you by?"
Gwen giggled and blushed (her trademark). "Oh, I just thought you could use some help unpacking, and I didn't have anything to do, so..."
I pretended to buy this story without question. "Hey, that's sweet. I was just having some coffee. Want something?"
"Got any orange juice?"
Of course I had OJ, and while she was at it, she wouldn't mind a toasted English and half a grapefruit and could she have a couple of slices of that ham? She chattered glibly and meaninglessly as she bustled about my half-finished kitchen, pale blonde hair whipping about her animated face, long legs scissoring in her baggy jeans. She was wearing her brother Bob's college-team zip-front sweatshirt; it came down almost to her knees. The kittens sat in the kitchen doorway, solemnly watching her movements.
"What's that for?" she asked, her small mouth working around a bit of muffin.
"Filling the waterbed."
"Really? Wow!" She swallowed and told me one of her girlfriends' parents had one, and she thought it was "neat," a word that apparently had come back into vogue.
I barely finished my coffee by the time she was scavenging the last crumbs from her plate. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Ummmm - you start putting the books and CDs on the shelves, and I'll finish setting up my office, okay?"
"Neat!"
I went into the corner of the living room that was rapidly becoming my working area, and Gwen started on the shelf-filling.
"I'm kind of surprised to see you, Gwen."
"Oh, yeah, well - like I said, there was nothing to do at home."
"Aren't your friends around?" I grunted, trying to snake the cables from the computer to the DeskJet.
"Yeah, but they're all into, you know, like hanging out at the mall. B-o-o-o-o-r-ing!"
I grinned at that. Boring for now; eventually, Gwen would exit tomboy phase and begin hanging out at the Mall for the same reason her friends did: The Mall was where the boys were, and the boys were there because that's where the girls were. I pushed the cable into place and tightened the (absurdly small) screws, then wiggled my way out from under the desk.
"Not into the 'shop-till-you-drop scene,' eh?" I said, standing. I glanced into the living room, where the kittens now sat, still solemnly watching her. Gwen had taken off the sweatshirt, revealing a BLONDE AMBITION Madonna tee-shirt.
"They never shop," she said. "Well, hardly ever. They just like to flirt with boys, and then get all giggly about it." She sounded disgusted; her tone declared that she was above such things.
I stepped into the master bedroom and checked the mattress. It was, I decided, just about time to stop filling. "You'll eventually find boys interesting and start flirting, too," I said, trying to sound Mature and Wise and Reassuring as I passed her on my way to the kitchen.
"Fat chance," she muttered. I twisted the faucet to the OFF position, disconnected the hose adaptor and stuck the end of the hose securely into the sink drain.
"What do you mean?" I asked, heading back to the bedroom. I kinked the hose and removed the end from the mattress, quickly twisting the mattress plug into place. Holding the hose high, I carried it back to the kitchen, the water draining as I approached the sink.
"Well, even if boys paid any attention to me, my brothers would scare them off."
I didn't have any trouble imagining Jerry or Bob - or both - sitting on the front steps, with a quart of Bud and a baseball bat, waiting for Gwen to return from her first date. More effective than saltpeter in cooling a youngster's ardor, that prospect would be.
But her tone was disturbing; she was downright morose.
"Besides, Mom says I can't go out on dates till I'm 16."
"No surprise," I murmured.
"What do you mean?"
She startled me. Gwen was suddenly right behind me at the kitchen sink.
"Oh, just that - " I thought it over. "Never mind. They all just want what's best for you."
"Would you make your daughter wait till she was 16 to go out on dates?" The intensity in her face and pose surprised me.
"If she was a pretty as you are, I would." I touched a finger to the tip of her little button nose.
"No, really, Mike - would you?"
"It doesn't matter, kid. I don't have a daughter. Even if I did, she'd be my daughter - and you're your Mom's."
"Yeah, but would you - Oh, flush it! It doesn't make any difference because none of the boys pay any attention to me anyhow -" She rolled those beautiful blue eyes. " - unless we're playing softball."
"Don't worry, cutey - they will." I tousled her fine, blonde hair and began coiling the now-emptied hose.
"No, they won't," she asserted, turning away. "They're just interested in girls like Heidi."
I coiled and tied the hose and followed Gwen into the living room. "What's so special about Heidi?" I asked, only half paying attention as I surveyed the shelves. She'd put all the CDs and books into place, alphabetically by author or composer.
"She's more - you know: developed."
"'Developed'?" I echoed. Should I hang the posters and paintings next, or deal with some more boxes?
"You know - around her, uh, chest. She's already got really big, uh, you know... bosoms." Her tone of desperation concentrated my attention.
"Oh, Gwennie," I cooed, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face me - and suddenly realizing how small-boned she was. The top of her head reached to about my third rib. "Gwennie, those boys are just... well - boys. Kids. They're fascinated by girls', uh, bosoms right now because they're new to it. All boys go through that phase, and then they outgrow it and begin to appreciate the rest of a woman."
"Did you?" She sounded hopeful.
"Sure. When I was your age, I did everything I could to get a look at a girl's, uh, chest - and the bigger, the better. I outgrew that, and so will they."
"You mean how big they are doesn't matter to you any more?"
"Not a bit." I didn't tell her that I had "grown up" - if that was the right expression - to be a leg-and-ass man, but a little license is required when dealing with an insecure kid.
She thought about that for a few seconds and then, defiantly: "Oh, yeah? Well, what about Keiko?"
Oooops.
I felt my face reddening. Oh, yes - Keiko. The Japanese woman I'd taken home to the family for Christmas dinner four years before, because she was far from home and lonely when everyone else she knew was with family for the Big Important Holiday. Keiko, from Kobe, with her shocking reddish hair (natural, I assure you; I checked) and her astonishing 32Ds (also natural, I assure you; I checked) on an otherwise typically slim Japanese frame.
I was surprised Gwen remembered her and even more surprised that she remembered Keiko's name.
"Well, uh, I, uh, I liked Keiko for herself. Her, uh, bosoms just kind of came with the package." I was stammering in my embarrassment. I tried to recover. "Besides, Gwen, you'll get yours. You're only 13 and - "
"Heidi's only 12! And she's already got hers!"
"Trust me." I gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Your brothers were shrimps when they were 13, and they're both big guys now. Just look at your mom - " Which I used to do at every opportunity at the beach. "She's really developed. These things are genetic, you know."
"I guess..." She shuffled her feet, then looked up at me again. Why hadn't I noticed how long and dark her lashes were before this? Or how absolutely translucent that fresh, makeup-free complexion was? Her expression still betrayed doubt.
"Gwen, you're really pretty. Believe me, the boys will start to notice you. What's the hurry, anyhow? You have fun with soccer and softball and - "
"Yeah, I guess." She made a face. "I guess I'm just jealous."
I released her shoulders and tousled her hair again.
"Don't worry. You'll catch up with Heidi and surpass her."
"I guess. I just hate to miss all the fun."
"Help me break down these boxes and tie them up. That'll be fun."
She giggled. "I mean fun like Heidi has. You know."
I took a razor knife and started slicing cardboard into tie-able squares.
"Be careful with this." I handed her the other razor knife. "What kind of fun?"
"You know, messing around with boys - smooching and stuff."
"By the time you're ready for that, the boys will know what they're doing. Heidi probably has to spend half her time wiping spit off her chin." And fingerprints off her blouse, I added in my thoughts.
She giggled, making an erratic cut in one piece of cardboard. "That's what she says. She says that's why now she only messes around with boys who are older - like 15 or 16 - and know what they're doing."
"Oh, she likes older men, does she?" I grabbed another box and continued filleting.
"She says that when they get older, they know what they're doing when they're messing around." Another cut, this one straighter. "Mike?"
I looked up and found that lovely face a foot away, her eyes clear and steady and fixed on mine.
"Can I ask you a personal question without you getting mad or telling anyone I asked?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
"Did you and Keiko, uh, mess around?"
I couldn't resist a grin. "Yes."
"Did you, like, touch her?"
I nodded.
"Did she really like it? I mean - really?"
I recalled Keiko's screaming orgasms.
"Uh, yeah, she made it pretty clear that she liked it."
"Did she, uh, touch you - you know, everywhere?"
I remembered Keiko's apparent ability to breathe through her ears. My dick remembered, too, and began stiffening.
"Oh, yeah." I grinned again. "Definitely." I tried to banish a grin.
"And she really liked it, touching you that way?"
Instant, total recollection of Keiko scrambling off me, from under me, from beside me, hasty to get her mouth on my spurting cock. The woman had seemed to thrive on drinking cum and swore it made her cum just to taste it and swallow it. Why, oh why, had Keiko gone and gotten herself married to a real estate tycoon in Arizona? (Answer: Because he was there.)
"Mike?"
"Oh, sorry. Yes, she certainly enjoyed it." I shook myself and resumed slicing. "Gwennie, why are you asking?"
"Well, because Heidi said stuff, and I didn't know whether to believe her. She said boys who know how to do it right really make her feel good when they touch her - really, really good, better than almost anything else." She shrugged. "I just didn't know whether or not to believe her."
"Sweetheart, I think you should be asking your mom about this stuff." I returned to my box duties. "Really."
"Oh, we already talked about sex and all that stuff about vaginas and penises and menstruation and stuff. But Mom said it hurts when a boy does that to a girl."
"Well, she should know."
"But you said Keiko liked it."
"That's for damn sure."
"It didn't hurt - "
"Gwen, Keiko is a grown-up woman - "
"I'll say!" Giggle.
" - and it's different."
"Heidi said it only hurts the first time, and after that it feels really, really good if the guy knows what he's doing."
I jerked my head up and stared at her. "She's already lost her cherry? I thought you said she's only 12!" I immediately wished I hadn't said it.
Gwen was nodding. The midday sunlight through the window behind her turned her hair into an explosion of golden light. "And she swears she really likes it." Her eyes were wide and round. "And me, I've never even really kissed a boy. I feel like a retard." She pronounced it 'reee-tard.' I was suddenly very aware that I could see two barely discernible little bumps within the BLONDE AMBITION tee-shirt.
I finished cutting the last box and grabbed the kitten-proof plastic bag containing my spool of heavy twine. Keeping my eyes on the task before me, I carefully said, "Gwen, Heidi is being very, very foolish. Aside from getting pregnant, she could get all kinds of diseases - "
"I know," she interrupted me. "So does she. She said she always makes them wear a waddyacallit."
"Condom."
"Yeah."
"That's good, but they're not foolproof. They can break or leak -"
"She said one of them did, once, and she was really scared till she got her period. Here."
I looked up and took the piece of cardboard she held toward me.
"I don't get mine yet," Gwen said matter-of-factly. "I think it's because of all the sports."
"Probably." I tried to concentrate on tying the cardboard into a bundle. Gwen supplied a helpful finger while I knotted the twine. Drat and Scat immediately attacked the excess, and Gwen reached in to grab the string. Drat swatted at her with tiny, kitten claws.
"Ow!" Gwen jerked her hand away. A drop of bright scarlet was beading on her fingertip. She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked on it. She managed to look innocently sexy like that. She saw my gaze and winked. Exit Innocence - stage left.
I tried to ignore it. "Let's wash that right away." I stood and drew her to her feet, then marched her into the bathroom. A little peroxide foamed, and I saw it was just a small puncture, not a tear.
She giggled. "Did you like that?"
"Huh?"
She stuck a different finger in her mouth, sucking on it, and winked again. "Heidi says that makes the guys really hot."
Heidi was starting to sound like the kind of girl I'd searched for all through my adolescence. I again recalled Keiko, teasing me at a corner table in The Magic Crepe. Throb-throb-throb... 
Gwen glanced down at my crotch, just a flicker of her eyes, and giggled again. "I guess she was right."
"You just made me remember - something else. Stop it."
She giggled again, this time more knowingly.
"You made me remember Keiko. Stop it." I guess my tone got through to her, because she stopped the game and sighed heavily. I again noticed those bumps in the tee-shirt.
"OK," she said, moping. "What now?"
"Put the towels and stuff on the shelves in the linen closet?" I nodded toward the door across the narrow hallway from the bathroom.
"Sure!" She scurried out of the bathroom and came back with the box cleverly labeled BATH LINEN. I stepped past her and went into the bedroom, where I dabbed the condensate from the mattress, switched on the heater and began putting sheets on the bed and cases on the pillows. While Gwen was occupied in the hallway, I also stowed the adult "toys" in the storage compartment at the foot of the bed. We finished our respective tasks simultaneously.
"Mission accomplished," she announced. "Now what?"
"Well, I'm starting to think about lunch."
"Good - I am positively famished."
"You can't be famished," I protested. "Less than an hour ago you ate a half a grapefruit and - "
"I know, I know," she said. "But I'm hungry again."
"Amazing." I shook my head. "I can order us in something. Do you like Japanese food?"
She shook her head, then blushed and giggled.
"Now what?"
"I know you like Japanese food."
She giggled again. It took me a moment to catch on. Then I was a bit stunned. Two years ago she was jumping up and down with joy because she'd gotten Astronaut Barbie for Christmas; now she was making veiled allusions to cunnilingus with Keiko (her tasty, dripping little snatch with those fine, reddish hairs all matted down while she arched her taut ass off the bed, cumming and screaming... ).
"I guess I was right."
Her whispered words shook me from my memories. She was staring pretty openly at my crotch, and I knew why and regretted being bare under my jeans. Still, bare or not, nothing was going to hide an eight-inch erection, especially on a guy who hadn't gotten any relief (other than a date with Rosy Palm and her Five Sisters) in almost three weeks.
"Gwendolyn Theresa O'Hara!" I barked.
She jerked back as if I'd slapped her.
"If you don't stop this stuff right now, you'll have to leave."
"Awwww..."
"I mean it. You're making me damned uncomfortable." Not to mention, horny, I thought.
"You mean it makes you hot to remember Keiko," she said sullenly.
"Gwen - Stop!" I put my hand under her chin - her small, perfectly shaped chin - and turned her face up toward mine. I was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
"Hey, what's the matter, cutey?"
She tore herself away from me and ran into the living room - sending kittens scurrying for cover - and threw herself onto my (new) sofa. She huddled there, sobbing onto the leather.
I went to her and stood, awkwardly, in front of the sofa. She was curled up in the corner, the tee-shirt and jeans drawn tight by her posture. Nice jeans. Nicer butt.
Stop it! I ordered myself, watching her back shake as she quietly wept.
I finally sat on the edge of the cushions and drew her to me, nestling her back against my chest. She was still sobbing. Her hair was incredibly fine. She was incredibly small and warm.
"What's the matter, baby? C'mon and talk to me."
"I didn't want to make you m-m-m-mad-d-d," and she resumed weeping.
"That's OK, baby. I was really more mad at myself for letting myself get turned on around my favorite little cousin."
The crying redoubled, and she fell back into the corner, weeping harder than ever. What had I said? I'd told her I wasn't mad at her, and it was (almost completely) true. What was setting her off?
"Come on, Gwennie, I said I'm not mad at you, so why are you crying now? Please? Pretty please?"
Huffing and snuffling, she finally turned her reddened, tear-streaked face to me and said, "B-b-because you said, you said you were mad at you bu-because you were getting turned on remembering K-K-Keiko!" She sniffed loudly.
"So? I don't get it."
"Bu-bu-because you were getting turned on remembering her and her big t-t-tits from four years ago, not because of what I w-w-was doing!"
Oh, shit... 
"So all that stuff you said before was j-j-just to make me feel better! It wasn't true!"
Great; now she was getting mad at me.
"And I really can't turn anyone on because I'm so flat!"
I grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her, forcing her to face me. "Now you listen to me!" I snapped at her. "I happen to think you're one of the cutest girls I've ever seen and - "
She started bawling again.
"Now what?"
"Everybody says I'm cute. Mom says it, Dad says it, Jerry and Bob say it, you say it! I don't want to be cute; I want to be sexy!"
Oh.
"Baby, I was just looking at you while you were sitting here and thinking what a sexy little butt you have." Again - my mouth and heart were outrunning my alleged brain. Oh, well, I thought, I've said it, and maybe it'll at least help.
(Right, dope. You just told a 13-year-old girl - a relative, to boot - that you think she's got a sexy ass. Gonna get yourself a National Pedophile Association pin next?)
The crying slowed - almost stopped - and her eyes grew wide. She wiped her hand across her face. "Really? That's what you thought?"
I nodded. "I swear."
"A sexy butt?"
Another mute nod. I was keeping my mouth shut now. I was getting smart.
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
That one seemed safe. "Very pretty. If I was younger and you weren't my cousin, I'd want to take you out on dates."
"Really?"
"Really."
"And kiss me and mess around and stuff?"
(Danger - danger - danger -)
"Sure."
"You'd really and honestly want to kiss me and stuff even though I don't have any t-t-... bosoms yet?"
"If I was younger and we weren't related. But I'm not, and we are."
She nodded slowly. "But - you mean I could really make you hot?"
(Sexy little ass... )
"Ye-esss..."
"Wow." The tears had stopped, her hair was a mess and she was still flushed. She looked gorgeous.
(Danger - danger - danger -)
"Really?"
I nodded.
(Danger - danger - danger -)
Everything went into super slo-mo. I was unable to move as she slithered toward me, smooth and sinuous and graceful as an eel. Her arms were around my neck, and her face was inches from mine. She pressed those sweet, soft, innocent lips to mine. After a moment, she pulled back and looked at me. Our eyes hadn't closed.
"Please - I want to know what it's like to be really kissed - really, really kissed... ?"
She kissed me again, and I kissed her back a little, just a little - and then a little more.
So much for smart.
My arm went around her back, and I kissed her a little more, and then I felt her lips open, and her little tongue was dancing on my lips. I resisted for all of two seconds before kissing her back in like manner, and then I had both arms around her, holding her to me. She pulled herself around so she was straddling my thighs and pressing her torso to my chest. She ground her lithe, athletic young body against me, kissing me hungrily. Her hands were at the back of my head, her fingers in my hair. I was getting an aching erection.
I finally mustered the will to put my hands under her armpits. I lifted her away and up, until she let go with her arms. Her eyes were still closed as I set her, standing, on the floor in front of me. Her mouth hung open, her lips slack. She was brightly flushed. Those little bumps on her tee-shirt had become very, very prominent.
Still holding her under her armpits, I stood. I turned her, sat her on the sofa, settled her back against the cushions and tried to get my breathing - and my gonads - under control.
Her eyes opened and slowly focused on me.
"Why'd you stop?" she breathed.
"You, uh, wanted to find out what it was like to be really, really kissed. Now you know. OK?"
"But - " Her gaze alighted on my crotch, which was (stupidly) right at her eye level. "Wow, I really do turn you on, don't I?"
"A little bit too much, Gwen. I think you better head home. I'll get you a cab to Penn Station, and what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Which was a really stupid question because we both knew precisely what she was doing: running her fingers over the length of my fully erected cock through my jeans.
"Oh, wow," she whispered. "Really neat. Can I look at it? I've never seen a grownup one - "
"Stop it." I was almost sure I'd said it aloud.
"Please..." She unzipped my jeans and reached inside. "Wow."
"Stop it." I gulped, then I groaned when her hand, her cool little fingers, found my dick.
"Wow, it's so hot..." She struggled a bit and finally figured out she'd have to undo the waist of my jeans. I, of course, was not wearing a belt, either.
She pushed my jeans down and there was Mr. Dork, hard, throbbing, pink and topped with the familiar purple mushroom of my glans.
"Is this the right way?" she asked, grasping it in her hand, slowly stroking. I moaned. She said, "It's so big and thick and hot! I never knew it could be this hot or hard! Are they all this thick?"
"... no..."
"Is this what Keiko did?"
"A little." My voice - and knees - were shaky.
"This fit inside her without hurting? I can't believe it! She was so small and this is so big - "
"She... practiced a lot. Gwen, you better stop - "
"And she - she even... put it in her mouth?"
My throbbing grew.
"She did, didn't she? I thought so. I don't know if I can fit -" She leaned forward and kissed my glans, then opened her tiny mouth wide and stuffed the head inside.
"Oh, geez, oh, Gwen, stop, please..."
I felt her tongue move just a little, and then she started to suck my cock. I bit my lower lip for a moment and fought the urge to let loose in her mouth; I was that close to cumming already.
"Gwen, stop it - I - " I managed to take her small, blonde head in my hands and pulled her gently off my dick.
"What? Wasn't I doing it right?"
I shook my head and gently disengaged my cock from her fingers, which could barely encircle it.
"You-you were doing it exactly right, especially for a beginner." I stepped back and pulled my jeans up, trying to stuff my aching dick back inside.
"Didn't you like it?"
"Very much, but we can't do this."
"Why not? I like it; you like it. I want to; you want to. Why not?"
"For one thing, you're my niece."
"I know," she said, "but I know you can't get pregnant this way, and that incest thing is just to keep people from inbreeding and making one-eyed babies."
"For another thing, you're barely 13!"
"So what?"
She had me, there, for a minute.
"Well - it's illegal!"
She actually giggled. "You gonna call the cops on me?"
I couldn't completely suppress a smile.
"Come on, Mike..." She stood and walked over to me, putting her arms around my waist -
- pressing those stiff little nipples into my stomach through my shirt -
- and looked up at me. "Please?" She batted her eyes. "I don't want to be a teaser and leave you with blue, uh... balls."
"Gwen - "
"And then you can touch me and make me feel good, too, please? Please, please, please, with sugar on top?"
Spoken as she slipped her hands between us and again unfastened and unzipped, and this time she pushed my jeans to my knees.
She bent at the waist - slightly - and again stuffed my dick into her mouth.
"Oh. My. Goodness." I gasped as she started sucking again. "Oh. My. Yes." I caressed her face, felt her jaws and cheeks bulging. I ran my fingers through her fine hair. I guided her face up and down a bit until she caught the idea and began to bob on her own, as much as she could; my dick is a only bit longer than the "normal" range, but it's very fat at seven inches-and-change in circumference. Frankly, as small as her mouth was - even for her age - I was a bit (and very gratefully) surprised that she could even get the glans inside. The other inch or two was gravy. Good gravy. And her hand was still stroking my shaft, trying to get the gravy.
I bent and ran my hand over her back and down to her butt, which butt I did thereupon cover with one paw and squeeze thereunto. She wiggled that perfect little butt. I slid my hands under her arms again and lifted her from the floor. She wrapped her arms around my neck and those soccer-volleyball-basketball-left fielder legs around my hips and hungrily kissed me. I had one hand cupping and nearly covering her butt and the other around her back. I stepped out of my jeans and sneakers. With my cock bobbing beneath her denimed crotch and her nipples pushing through the BLONDE AMBITION shirt and gouging into my chest, I carried her into the bedroom and lowered her to the waterbed.
She grabbed my hand and jammed it between her legs, rubbing her cunny against my fingers. "Come on, touch me, make me feel it, come on!"
"I'll do more than that, little girl," I growled, thoroughly out of control. I fumbled at the snap of her jeans until she pushed my hands away to open them herself. I pulled her jeans down, and she pulled her legs back to hurry the process. She was wearing plain green panties, and the crotch was soaked to her, making them nearly transparent. She pulled her legs back and stripped the panties off faster than I could reach them.
"Don't look at me, please," she whined.
"Huh? Why not? You're beautiful!"
"But I don't have much - much - "
She gasped when I dropped face-down between her legs and started licking her. She'd been embarrassed because there was only the tiniest of downy blonde mats there, all but invisible and easily overlooked; she'd been ashamed of that.
I reveled in it. Her cunt was minuscule and perfect. It was the sweetest, freshest, cleanest, tastiest pussy I had ever encountered. Her labia were tiny and superb, swollen and eminently lickable. Lick I did, all around that delicious morsel. She arched and rolled her hips. I grabbed her, my fingertips meeting in the crease of her little ass and my thumbs reaching almost to her pubis. I feasted on her, using of all the skills I'd acquired through years of diligent research.
Her clitoris astonished me. As I licked her, it swelled until it was as fat as one of her fingertips. I teased it by trilling my tongue around it and finally let my lips close lightly on it. I brushed just the tip of my tongue ever so lightly back and forth across it, very slowly, and little Gwen had a big orgasm.
She locked her legs around my head, gripped my hair in her fingers and furiously ground my face into her cunny. She didn't make a sound, but she came and came, furious orgasms that didn't seem to stop. Her asscheeks clenched so tightly that they hurt my fingertips!
She began to arch up and down, very slowly. Her thighs would tighten on my head as she went down and then slowly open wide as she pushed up. She was still cumming, only now she was making a kind of moaning noise, like far-off wind, in time with her archings - which were gradually speeding up.
In moments, it seemed, she was hurling her thighs wide and her hips up and then slamming her butt - and my hands - down into the rippling waterbed as her thighs clamped my head. Finally, through sheer strength, I held her pussy against my mouth and whipped my tongue across her clitoris until shudders went through her taut frame. She made a noise like dry fingertips rubbing across a balloon and finally fell back to the undulating surface of the bed.
I twisted sideways on the bed, my tongue still working around her swollen labia. I slid one hand up between her trembling thighs and pushed it into the copiously drooling crease of her engorged little pussy lips. I applied just a little pressure. She bent her knees, feet flat on the waterbed, and hunched her hips forward. My finger slid into the tightest, hottest, wettest little cavity I've ever encountered, right to the second knuckle without obstruction. Where the hell was her hymen? I wondered - and then I knew: ballet class or all of those sports or both.
"Unnnnnh - unnnnnn!" she grunted, and I pumped that one digit slowly and carefully in her little vagina. Her lithe hips were already humping in an unmistakable fucking motion. She was moaning continually now, and I put the tip of my tongue on her clitoris, making contact but not moving. I turned the hand that was between her legs so my palm was facing up. I could feel, on the upper wall of her vagina, the swollen nodule of nerves.
I began to massage that little G spot as my tongue barely moved over her clitoris, and Gwen seemed to have a seizure. Her body went all but motionless. Every muscle and tendon in her athletic 13-year-old frame was tensed and bulging. Perspiration formed all over her pale flesh. Her abdomen bulged and contracted, and inside her cunt, my finger was being massaged and squeezed by the spasms of her paroxysm. Her eyes were wide open and bulging, staring without seeing. Her mouth opened as if to scream - and all that came out was a throaty gurgle. I kept doing it until I was afraid she wasn't breathing.
She was sobbing for breath, wheezing and coughing. Her taut abdomen still contracted, and her narrow young hips were rolling slightly. Her pussy was very swollen and wet. Juice was visibly trickling out of those lips. She reached out blindly with one hand. I took it and crawled up next to her, rolling her on top of me and into my arms. She buried her face against the side of my neck. I could feel her steaming breath and hot tears as she clung to me. I held her with one arm, keeping her pressed tightly against me. My other hand gentled down over her back to her fabulous little butt, lightly caressing her perfect buns. Her legs were spread, and I could feel the heat and syrup of her all-but-hairless cunt against my thigh, and there was no mistaking the swollen nodule of her clitoris.
She continued lightly rolling her hips, smearing my thigh with her juice - and, in the process, rubbing her lean thigh against my still-stiff dick. She couldn't be unaware of it, I thought, and hoped she'd be willing to finish what she'd started before - and pay me back in kind.
I felt her lips moving against the side of my neck and then on my trapezoid muscle. I shivered involuntarily when I felt her perfect, even teeth graze my skin. She kissed her way furiously up over my ear and down my jaw, and then she was mashing her voracious little mouth to mine. She squirmed fully on top of me so my cock was throbbing between her thighs and caught it between them. She squeezed it as she kissed me, her tongue dancing over mine. I almost felt overpowered by 80 pounds (tops) of wiry 13-year-old girl.
She knelt abruptly, straddling my waist. I could feel her pussy dripping on my belly. Her fingers went to the top button on my shirt.
"What?"
"I want to do it."
"Do what?" I asked, trying to sound calm and in control - and not even convincing myself.
"You know - " She gave up and ripped the button off. "Everything."
"Forget it, lovely, sexy Gwen. It'll hurt."
"No, it won't. I don't have a - " She paused and looked thoughtful. " - a hymen."
"I know."
She did better with the next button. "Remember when I studied ballet? The first time I - "
"Plee."
She nodded, unfastening a third button. "That hurt a lot."
"Gwen, it's still going to hurt. I'm big, and you're small."
She tossed her hair back from her face and started on the fourth button. "Keiko did it."
I took her wrists in my hands. "Gwen, Keiko was 27 years old. Keiko practiced with a lot of men before I met her. Keiko still had trouble."
The tiny karate student straddling my waist did something with her hands and removed my grasping fingers. "I don't care," she said defiantly. She squirmed back till she felt my prick against her ass. She shimmied so her butt was rubbing it. She bent low and kissed my forehead, nose and lips - one-two-three quick - and knelt upright again. "I want to do it with you. Do you have a waddyacallit, a condom?"
I shook my head. "Nope. So it's not safe."
Gwen moved her hands quickly and pinned my wrists near my shoulders. I could not move my arms. "So what do you do to keep from getting girls pregnant?"
I muttered my reply.
"What?" she demanded.
"I had a vasectomy."
"What's that?"
"A little operation so I can't get anyone pregnant."
"Really? What if - Never mind. What about AIDS?"
"I don't take someone to bed unless I know a lot about her."
"Oh? Doesn't sound safe to me."
"It isn't. Get up." I started to sit up.
"Wait a minute - " She moved her arms, and I was flat on my back again. "You're too smart for that. How do you protect yourself?"
"Gwen - "
"Tell me the truth or I'll go out and find some dirty old child molester."
I sighed. "Alright. I find out everything I can about her. If I have the least doubt, I make her go with me to a doctor, and we both give blood and urine specimens."
"Doesn't sound very romantic."
"It isn't, but I'm not going to die for a fuck."
She looked pensive, then smiled. "So you're safe."
"... yes."
She ripped the last two buttons away. "Oh, goody."
With that, she raised and backed up enough so that when she lowered her hips again, my cock was trapped between us. She rolled her pubis on it, drooling juices over my dick and driving me generally nuts. I started tugging at her tee-shirt, but she tried to stop me.
"Shy? Shy? You want to fuck me, and you're shy?"
She shook her head. She murmured against my chest.
"What?"
"I'm embarrassed because I haven't got any... you know."
"Gwen..." I tugged at the tee-shirt until she stopped resisting. I pulled it over her head and off her arms. She even cooperated. But she kept her eyes closed and was madly blushing.
I slid my hands down her arms, cupped her face for a moment - her eyes were wide and uncertain - then moved my fingers down over her shoulders to her... you know.
I'd felt bigger mosquito bites.
But what there was delighted my lips and tongue. Tiny little bulbs of swollen flesh capped by tiny but rigid nipples. I brushed my thumbs over her nipples and heard her gasp. I took her waist in my hands and pulled her up and over me till one perfect, tiny tit was lowered into my mouth.
She was delectable. My tongue ran amok over that tiny breast, and my lips feasted on her nipple. Gwen moaned and writhed above me and then took it upon herself to feed me her other little titty and nipple. Equal Time Rules were in effect, and I cherished every moment of it. She may even have had an orgasm.
Finally, I pulled her face to mine and kissed her, as deeply and sweetly as I could, before pulling her back and saying, "Oh, Gwen, you're so beautiful. I could lick and suck your breasts all day and all night."
"But they're so little..."
"They're perfect, absolutely perfect. The finest, sweetest, most scrumptious tits I've ever kissed or licked or sucked. My all-time favorite."
"What about Keiko?"
"Hers were bigger; yours are better."
"I still want to do everything."
So did I, but: "Are you sure?"
She nodded, eyes big. "Should I roll under?"
"No, honey. You stay on top so I don't hurt you."
"OK." She slithered down over me, kissing my throat and chest and nipples, until her cunt was pushed against my still-rampant dick. She reached behind and around, and I felt her small hand grasp my big dick. For a first-timer, she was quick and sure in lining up my glans with her pussy. "It feels so big!"
Still sprawled atop me, she pushed back and down. My cock slid up off the mark and against that rock-hard butt. Muttering, she tried again and this time wiggled her hips back and forth, wedging her cunt open against my prick. I rested my hand on her ass, savoring the velvet softness of her flawless skin moving over the absurdly taut muscles of her backside.
I tried to hold still as she pushed her little cunt at my prick, but the sensation was maddening. It felt like her labia were nibbling wetly at my glans. Finally, with a groan, she pushed back and down very hard, and I felt her opening just a bit. My cock was finally lodging in her tiny quim.
I put my hands on her hips, my thumbs just beneath the bones and my fingertips reaching under almost to the crease of her thighs. I gripped her firmly and pushed her down as I slowly worked my hips up at her. By fractions of an inch, my knob pressed into the constriction of her cunt. Her pussy was hot and wet and extremely tight; I could feel my glans being compressed as it pushed through the pubescent structure of her pubic bones. Gwen let out a loud groan, as if she were straining to lift something. When the coronal ridge of my glans finally squeezed inside, I released her hips and resumed caressing her back and butt.
"You OK?"
I felt her nod against my chest. I could also feel her nipples against my flesh and her cunt flexing around my prick. I doubted I was going to last very long.
"Is there much more?" she whispered. "It's awfully big in there!"
I didn't think it wise to tell her how much more there was. "Push down a little more," I said, kissing the top of her head.
She grunted and pressed her lithe hips at me. I pushed up again, still careful. Another two inches slid in, maybe a fraction more. My glans was burrowing deeper into that fresh little cunt, stretching all the kinks out of it to clear the way for my shaft. I could feel the straining tension in her shoulders and back and in the muscles of her ass.
I began gently stroking, pulling out till only the knob was in her, then pushing back in, a little more each time. The tension ebbed from her shoulders, grew in her butt. She began tentatively fucking back at me, meeting my movements - and then anticipating them. I quickened my movements, and so did she.
Suddenly, she pushed herself up on her arms and put her hands on my chest. Her eyes were closed, and her face was flushed. I ran my hands up her sides and lightly grasped her little nipples. She moaned and began pumping her hips over me. She caught her lower lip between her even, white teeth. Her face was a study in concentration, and her expression looked like she wasn't sure whether to cry or scream.
I looked down at our junction. Her hips were moving faster, and my thick cock gleamed with her wetness. Her all-but-hairless cunt lips were very, very stretched. When she pushed down, her labia were nearly imploded, and her clit was drawn perilously close to the top of my aching dick. When she pulled up, her pink twat walls were clinging to my cock. The sight was pushing me over the edge. Her growing moans of pleasure weren't helping.
I put my hand between us and touched her clitoris with my thumb.
"Oh, yeah! OH, YEAH!" she whimpered and then froze, eyes screwed tightly shut. I could see her abdomen contracting with her orgasm. More important, I could feel her pussy spasming around my cock. I couldn't hold back. My prick swelled still more inside her. Her eyes popped open, wide and shocked. Then I began to cum inside her.
The semen squeezed up my prick past the constriction of her pussy and then spurted into her. I saw her mouth fall open in amazement - and then a glorious, wondering smile spread across her face when she realized what she was feeling.
I groaned, and my penis spasmed again. Another load erupted into her, and she began hunching down against my cock, forcing more of it into her small cunt. As the next load rocketed through my prick, she got me in to her deepest - I could feel the end of her cunt on my knob - and I raised my thumb above her pubis and pressed her abdomen, compressing her vaginal nerves against my prick.
She gave a little shriek and began wildly hammering at my dick as I came again and then again. Her cunt seemed to be sucking my cock!
My ejaculations slowed to an oozing relief, and she kept right on pounding above me. Her pussy was so small and tight that I never lost any of my stiffness or thickness, even after I'd stopped cumming.
I took her hips in my hands, guiding her movements and trying to keep her from pulling completely off me. She was relentless, varying her pace and angle so my cock would hit all the places she wanted inside her. She began grinding down at me, trying to get more of me into her. On each stroke, she did get a little bit more. She slowed her pounding and began to growl deep in her throat with each descent.
She was getting more of me into her and getting more into this with each passing moment - and my nuts were responding, already refilling my cock. I began meeting her strokes.
"Doing it!" she gasped. "You're fucking me! Fucking me! Fucking! Fuck - fuck - fuck - "
It became a chant, a mantra, and she pumped more and more of my thick dick into her tiny cunt, her pussy milking at my prick and restoring the ache in my balls.
And then, at the bottom of one stroke, she had me so deep that she could feel my pubic hair graze her cunt lips. She keep pushing, driving me farther up into her, straining the end of her immature tube deeper and deeper until --
"I did it!" she gasped. "But I think it's in my belly!"
I put one hand on her abdomen and pushed. I could feel her cunt compress still more. I could almost feel my own fingers on my cock through her flesh.
"Eeeeeeeee-EEEEEEE!" she wailed, her twat again spasming around me. She pulled her hands up almost to her tits and clenched her fists. She bent her neck down, squeezed her eyes shut. She screwed her face up and shook her head crazily, rapidly, and came all over my cock.
I gave a roar of surrender as my cock lurched inside her, and I came again. I poured whatever was left in my balls far, far inside her orgasmic young body and savored the heat and wetness of her.
The strength poured out of me, too, and my cock at last began to shrivel. My hands fell away from her, and she slowly toppled onto me, her convulsions finally passing. With my limpening cock locked inside her still-occasionally spasming little cunt, she let herself sprawl atop me. We were both panting and covered with sweat. I managed to raise my arms enough to enfold her and hold her to me.
We lay like that for what seemed a long time. I wasn't sure she was awake. I sure as hell was, though - contemplating what had just happened, what had been happening all day. I'd sort of known she was trying to seduce me, but hadn't wanted to face up to it completely - because if I had, I would have felt obliged to stop it. And I'd wanted it. A lot.
Now it was done.
She stirred. I took her chin in my hand and tilted her face up at me. I brushed the hair from her cheek and forehead. Her eyes were bright and wet and half-closed. She smiled.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you, too, sweetheart." I paused. "Will you marry me?"
She blinked. "Marry?"
"Yes. Quit school and settle down with me. Move in with me. Spend the rest of your life with me. Have babies with me. Raise them till they're old enough to go out and have their own homes. Keep house for me. Shop and cook and clean."
"Oh." The smile faded. "Oh."
"Well, you said you love me."
"I do... but not like that."
Her eyes searched mine. I smiled at her, and after a moment, she returned it. "I think I understand what you mean."
"Do you still love me?"
She smiled broadly. "Oh, yes, very much - but not like you said. That's why you said it, isn't it? So I'd think about the difference."
"Exactly." I kissed her forehead. "And I still love you."
"Mmmmm - will you promise me something?"
"Depends."
"You'll never tell anyone about - you know?"
"I promise."
"Something else?"
"Maybe."
She giggled. "Can we do this again?"
I thought about that. How could I resist? "Sure."
"When?"
"After a shower and some lunch... if there's time."
"We'd just get all sticky again."
"Then I guess we won't be able to do it again."
"Silly. We'll take another shower." She shifted and groaned. "I just hate to let go of you. It feels so nice having you inside me, hot and wet and full."
I took her hips in my hands again and slowly eased her off me. Her cunt was still so tight that it held onto my prick and made the withdrawal almost as difficult as the insertion had been. My glans finally popped out of her and the mixture of all her juices and my two loads oozed very slowly between her reddened labia.
"You're going to have to take a shower, sweetheart. You can't go home all sweaty and sticky and with my jism running down your legs."
"But then there might not be time to do it again before I leave!" she protested, standing beside the bed. I rolled my feet to the floor and stood next to her, my prick flopping wetly on my sticky thighs.
"Well, maybe we can save time by showering together."
I said it with such a straight face that it took her a moment to get it. Then that glorious smile returned and became coy.
"Conserve water, too."
I nodded. She took my hand and led me toward the bathroom.
Of course, in the process of soaping each other up, the predictable happened. She bent at the waist at one point and again stuffed my resurrecting prick into her mouth. When my cock finally got fully stiffened, I lifted her. With her arms and legs around me, with my hands cupping her wee ass, I leaned against the tile in the shower, under the spraying water, and helped her lever herself up and down on my cock. It was easier getting into her the second time, but still abominably tight.
As she worked herself on my stiff prick, I rubbed her rectum with a fingertip and then prodded it slowly inside. Gwen went a little crazy, first protesting and then growling and sinking her teeth into my upper arm.
I couldn't maintain that position for very long. Leaving the shower running, I carried her into the bedroom and laid her back on the bed. She lifted her legs high and wide, holding her ankles in her hands and opening herself to me. I discovered that the harder I pumped, the more she liked it. About 10 minutes of that - and feeling her orgasmic cunt muscles - and I was shooting inside her again. I managed to collapse beside her on the bed. She had the presence of mind to arise, turn off the shower and bring some towels to the bed. I guess we both dozed a bit, because I was awakened to the sensation of her mouth on my cock.
I opened my eyes and saw her watching my face as she tried to restore rigidity to her new toy. I also saw her rubbing her drooling little cunt and pushing a finger into her pussy. My dick began to respond, and she smiled around the growing shaft with her stretching lips.
She mounted me again, eagerly and determinedly. "You know," she said, "I don't think I can get enough of this cumming and fucking." Her eyes closed in satisfaction as she slid down onto my reawakened prick and began pumping.
I didn't think I was going to cum again for about a day or two, no matter how good it felt inside her, but after 15 minutes or so (and about a half-dozen of her orgasms), she said, "Would you please put your finger in there again?"
I moved my hand toward her pussy, and she shook her head. "No - in behind."
I did as she asked and watched her face as she growled and humped her ass onto my finger until my palm was cradling her sweet cheeks. Gwen was writhing like a crazed person above me now. To my surprise, I felt my balls tightening - and then I was unexpectedly flooding her little cunt yet again.
This time, after we rested and nestled, I told her quite firmly that she had to get cleaned up. It was getting toward four o'clock, and no matter what fictions she had prepared for her parents, she had to get home before it was too late.
She nodded, not protesting at all. But even after we'd bestirred ourselves, cleaned up, dressed, munched some sandwiches and headed downstairs so I could put her in a cab, she wasn't finished with me.
Waiting for the elevator, she turned to me. "There's a lot more stuff I want to try with you and learn about. Is that okay?"
The elevator chimed. "Sure. How can I turn you down?"
We boarded. I pressed "L" and turned to her. "But I'm a little worried about you coming into Manhattan alone. There're some nasty characters out there."
"I was thinking about that, too." We stepped out of the car and walked down the hallway to the front door. "I have an idea that might work out pretty good with some of the other stuff I want to try."
I scanned the traffic and raised my arm to hail a cab. It pulled up to the kerb. I handed the driver 20 bucks. "Penn Station. See her through the doors and into the station, OK?"
The cabby nodded; it was a $4 fare. I held the door for Gwen, closing it after her. She rolled the window down.
"Tomorrow OK?"
"Sure," I replied. "And what's this idea of yours?"
She grinned. "I'll bring Heidi."
"Huh?"
"Bye!" She chirped, rolling the window up. The cab pulled away.
By the time I got back into my apartment, I had another hard-on.