Message-ID: <46386asstr$1075075804@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: usenet From: "Frank McCoy" X-Original-Message-ID: Reply-To: mccoyf@millcomm.com X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 25 Jan 2004 20:57:57 GMT Subject: {ASSM} REPOST: JENNY.TXT "Jenny" (Mgg, cons, *very* pedo, preg?, corrected) x-assm-no-berne-warning: yes Lines: 796 Date: Sun, 25 Jan 2004 19:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman Jenny An Erotic Story In my mind I call her Jenny. I never knew her real name. After all these years, I still curse myself for never asking. At the time, it seemed the most intelligent thing to do. Now I know how incredibly dumb I was. Yes, dumb. When you're 26, a little over two years out of the Service, still a virgin, and horny as an old goat, you'll do some incredibly stupid things too. At the time (this was back about late spring or early summer of 1948), being young, I thought myself invincible. Nothing could harm ME. Not bullets, not people. I even laughed at the idea of going to jail. I never dreamed how much I could be hurt. I was freshly out of a job that day; but wasn't worried. Back then, with my invincible attitude, I knew I would find one within a few days of when I started to look. Still, I wasn't in any hurry; wanting to enjoy a few days of unscheduled vacation before looking. I knew that any job I took would require at least a year's work (and probably two) before they gave me any vacation time. That's the way the Corporate World worked. Since I'd just gone almost two years without vacation, when the shop I was working in unexpectedly closed down (New owners.), I felt entitled to spend at LEAST a week on vacation, before getting seriously down to job hunting. I never knew then, that I was a pedophile. At least, that's what they'd call me these days. I was SERIOUSLY attracted to young women; but thought then mostly of looking at women from the ages of about twelve years old to about eighteen, or twenty tops. These days, even thinking about sex with a 12-year-old would get you classified as a pedophile. Back then, there wasn't even such a category ... I think. Heck, in those days it was considered NORMAL to look at a nicely turned-out teenager or even pre-teen girl, and remark how much you'd like to get in her pants. (Yeah, pants. In those days, all women AND girls wore dresses and skirts. If you talked about getting in a woman's pants, you meant those *underneath* her skirt. Nowadays, you'd call them panties ... flimsy, frilly things.) "Old enough to bleed, is old enough to breed," went the saying. We were just getting out of the days when most men married girls as young as twelve ... and an "old maid" was a girl of 16-18, who was still unmarried. By then though, the "old maid" stage had slipped with advancing life expectancy, until, at the time this took place, you wouldn't think of a girl as being an old maid until she was at least in her middle twenties. I doubt even the girl's mother was that old; probably marrying her childhood sweetheart at fourteen, her first kid within a year, and then divorced (a "grass widow") five or six years later. Just thinking about it makes me feel so STUPID! There's nothing in the world to make an old man's heart ache, as much as missed chances. In my mind I call her Jenny. I never knew her real name. There I was, sitting in the park, listening to the birds, the breeze in the trees, and just enjoying a nice sunny summer day. One of the reasons I like to visit parks (besides those stated) was I also like to watch children play. Back then, I had dreams of getting married and having children of my own. Still, up to then I'd never even properly kissed a girl (other than my sister ... once) and never gotten further with one than the single time I'd gotten a finger in MaryLou's pants that time we were sitting at the dinner table when I was visiting the cousins. Now THAT was dumb too! Sitting there, in the living room, with your hand up underneath your cousin's skirt, hand in her panties, and a finger slipping in and out of her slippery little slit. If we'd gotten caught.... But we didn't. After supper that night, I tried again . but neither MaryLou nor either of her two younger sisters would sit with me for the rest of the night. I guess their big sister told them what I did. Thankfully, my mother never found out. But that was almost ten years earlier. At twenty-six, I was (I figured) probably the only virgin in the whole state older than twenty; with no chance it seemed of correcting that condition. Not that I was that ugly, mind you. Tall, skinny, not exactly handsome, but not ugly. What I was, was terminally shy with women. Kids, on the other hand, make my day. I still love being around kids; their infectious giggles about silly things can brighten up the most serious grump's day. Getting one of the little angels to sit on my lap, or to hold a cute baby in my arms ... These are the precious memories an old man turns over in his mind like faded leaves of autumn, caught and pressed in a book for safekeeping. With each examination they grow slightly more ragged and fragile. That's why I'm writing this down. I don't want ALL memory of that precious hour forgotten forever. Even I will soon be gone; but maybe this record will survive after me. In my mind I call her Jenny. I never knew her real name. The first time I saw Jenny, was when her mother walked by me in a scented whirl of soft skirt that drew my immediate attention. The woman, looking barely in her twenties, if that, looked almost too young to have three children of her own. All I remember of her though, was a fairly tall woman, brown hair, sharp nose, and off-orange dress that reached to her ankles. "C'mon, Children," she directed her brood. "We only have a couple hours to play." "Yaaaayyy!" came the enthusiastic response from the kids. I'm not sure which two of the three. With the shrill whistling shriek, the three kids scampered off in three directions in the playground; the youngest two for each end of the sandbox, while the older girl headed for the teeter- totter, in hopes I suppose of getting some of the other kids to take the other end. When I saw the young mother heading for my bench, I got up myself and moved towards the empty swing-set. I told you I was shy. Right then, though I didn't know it, I missed an opportunity that I've been cursing myself for ever since. If I'd ONLY introduced myself! Now, as then, missed opportunities almost never come back. Back then, swings were wooden boards, usually with ropes. Metal was usually too expensive for swings; so it wasn't until some years later that they started using chains for durability ... and then later rubber slings, so kids couldn't come flying out of them so easily and get hurt. Also, so kids wouldn't get hurt by a wooden board smacking them in the head, I guess. Our litigious society, these days. But this is now; that was then. I sat there for close to twenty minutes; seemingly reading my book ... but actually sneaking peeks at the two darlings playing in the sandbox. It seems the older of the two youngsters, a girl about six who pointedly avoided her little brother, had somehow neglected to wear panties that day ... And every so often she'd be turned my way when squatting; and I'd get an almost full view of her bare little cunny! "She does that on purpose, you know," came a quiet voice at my elbow. The girl's older sister was standing there; trying to sneak a peek at the volume in my hand. Well ... you don't just show, "An Autobiography of a Flea" to a kid you meet in a park! I, quietly and as nonchalantly as I could, put the book aside, and tried to distract the girl by asking what she was talking about. "My little sister," she explained. "She likes to show off her crack. Acts like it's an accident. Some day some guy is going to put his `thing' in her, and she'll really squeal." She paused a moment, then added thoughtfully, "Of course, she might really like it too. I sure do." I almost fell off the swing, at the unexpected statement. You just DON'T have a little girl walk up to you in the park, tell you how much she likes to have big horny men put their swollen pricks all the way up inside her tight little cunny, and squirt her tummy full thick white cream! Well ... Jenny did. Jenny. That's what I call her in my mind. I was saved from having to make an intelligent reply by the girl's mother picking that moment to come over. "Uh ... say?' she asked hesitantly. I woggled my eyebrows; bringing a giggle from the child next to me. "You seem to like watching the kids," she began, "and I was wondering ...." "Yes?" I asked. Hell, I was almost beet red from embarrassment. I was lucky to get that out, what with the conversation (if you could call it that) that I had been having with her eldest daughter. "I was WONDERING," she repeated; now blushing herself, "if you could watch the kids for a few minutes. I don't want to leave them alone. You hear all these stories these days about perverts who hang around playgrounds." Well ... I wasn't a pervert ... or at least didn't consider myself one THEN. Except for my cousin, I'd never molested a girl in my life; and I'm not too sure even that would be considered abnormal; just sexual experimentation of two kids, since we were the same age. "Uh ...," I said, looking around for somebody to rescue me. Not that I really MINDED watching the cute youngsters . I was doing that already. I just didn't think I was the best person for the job ... not with a hard-on from looking up her little six-year-old's short little dress! There didn't appear to be a living soul except for us within blocks. "Please?!" she pleaded. "It's only a few blocks back to the car; and I don't want to leave the kids unattended. It'll only be a few minutes ... half an hour at the most. If I take the kids back with me, they won't get to play; and I really PROMISED them they'd have some time at the park today. Please?" she repeated. "Uh ...." I always was a sucker for a damsel in distress. She was pretty, the kids were cute and sexy, and I didn't have anything at all I really needed to do right then, The mother seemed to sense my capitulation. "Thanks, really," she almost gushed. "I'll make it up to you. You won't regret it. I'll be back in a half-hour ... 45 minutes, tops!" This last was almost yelled back. "Now you kids be nice for Mister ... uh ... Mister. You do what he says, OK?" "Yes, Mom," from my elbow. A distracted, "Yes, Momma," from the sandpit. No reply at all from the youngster at the other end. I turned to the sprite next to me. "Your sister really does that deliberately?" I asked. "Uhuh," she nodded, seriously. "So do I; but I try not to be so obvious about it." "Oh," I gulped; somewhat nonplused by the idea that the youngster standing beside me had nothing on under the short skirt she was wearing but her own bare skin. "Can I see it?" I asked daringly. Carefully the child looked around on all sides before saying, "I guess so," and quickly flapping her skirt high so that I got a quick glance at the bare body underneath. A flashing view of puffy little cunny-lips, and an oh-so-sweet look at a bare little belly. "I can't let you look very long," she apologized. "Somebody might see us." Damn, the kid had more sense than I did! It was with some disappointment that I heard her say, "Can you swing me?" Well ... If I couldn't sit there examining the little tart's treasures I guessed I could push the child's swing. Heck, if I pushed it from the FRONT, then I'd probably get quite a few glances up the child's skirt. That certainly wouldn't hurt; and it wouldn't be as if I was molesting her! I started to get up. "Not THAT way," she pouted; stopping my getting off the seat. "I want to sit in your lap," she explained. Oh. I shouldn't have done in ... But I did. If I had known what was going to happen, both then and in the years to come, I'm still trying to convince myself I would have stopped. I'm a liar too. I know darned well I would have continued anyway. Like I said, young guys that age think they're invincible. Nothing bad can happen to THEM. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I did it. Yes, I picked up the youngster and sat her square in my lap; her skinny legs dangling down on either side; and her bare little cunny rubbing against the front of my pants! The short skirt the child wore was just long enough to barely cover up the two of us without showing she didn't have anything on underneath. "See?" she whispered in my ear; while I started rocking the swing gently. "Now you can reach up under my dress and touch me; and nobody will notice." Oh God. I looked around, and still all I could see was a few trees, and the two younger kids still playing quietly in the sandbox. The girl's younger sister though, threw a big grin at us as she saw my hand was already underneath her big sister's skirt. God the child was smooth and warm and erotic. I couldn't help myself; barely able to keep one hand holding onto the rope; keeping the two of us semi-steady, while I felt up the child with the other one. Smooth and warm and . dipping one finger experimentally into the child's slit . wet and slippery inside. The little girl didn't object; instead pushing back at me as my middle finger slid inside her tight little tunnel to the hilt. "That feels good," she murmured, before reminding me to keep on swinging slightly so nobody would suspect. The hard part was doing that without having a heart-attack. "Billy likes to put his `thing' in me when we do this," she moaned; trying to push herself even farther onto my big finger. "Billy?" I asked; looking in surprise at the little boy in the sandbox. No way a kid THAT young would or even could .. "Billy ... My big brother." Oh. I was still almost shocked speechless that a girl this young would not only let her brother feel her up; but seemed to enjoy the idea of complete vaginal intercourse . Something even *I* hadn't experienced yet; and I was close to three times her age. "Please?" she whimpered. "It feels REAL good that way. I'll make it feel good for you too." When I didn't reply; the child squirmed even harder; trying to force my whole hand inside her body. "Billy really likes it a lot," she added persuasively. I was lost. I'll BET her big brother liked it "a lot". I could just imagine how tight the youngster's tight little tunnel would feel around my swollen prick. Her vagina was already making rippling motions on my invading finger. I'd never really gotten my prick inside a real girl before ... and here I was RESISTING the first one who asked me??? For some reason, the age of the girl I was about to lose my virginity with, didn't bother me in the slightest. It just didn't seem important right then. Like her mother, the girl could sense the collapse of my resistance. Hurriedly looking around again she reached underneath herself, unbuttoned my pants, unfastened my belt, pulled the front of my pants open, reached down inside my underwear, and pulled out my swollen and leaky prick. It was obviously NOT the first time the girl had done something like this, as the youngster managed the whole operation without getting off my lap or me moving off the swing. Luckily there was a building and fence just behind us; as anybody now passing to our rear would have seen me sitting on my pants; my bare rear-end hanging out for all the world to see. The child's short skirt still hid the obscene things going on from the front. I didn't dare do more than slightly rock the swing though, in a parody of swinging. "Are you sure?" I barely managed to gasp, as the little girl grasped my prick, and directed the cum-dripping head against her almost equally slippery little crack. Way too late, if you ask me now. I was almost scared to death we might get caught; yet unable to stop myself since the child seemed so eager. Besides, I'll admit it, my prick was doing most of my thinking right then. Only the fact that the child obviously had done this many times before (With her own BROTHER?) kept her young age from sending me screaming in fright. As it was, I certainly wouldn't be abusing the little girl's innocence! "Uhuh," she muttered; concentration aimed mostly at my penis; fitting the member firmly against her tight little baby-hole. "Billy really likes it when I do THIS," she groaned ... and then slid down my prick to the hilt! Oh God! I almost groaned my ecstasy as I felt a tight ring surround the head of my prick ... and then ripple smoothly down until it was making almost incredibly tight spasms round the base where my pubic hair had finally turned into a fairly decent bush. It was all I could do to keep from wailing my ecstasy at losing my virginity to the world . And no doubt bringing twenty thousand cops running to see who was being killed. It was only THAT scary notion that kept me from yelling aloud. Blinking back unexpected tears, I checked hurriedly around again to see who might notice the pervert in the park, now mated to a little girl perhaps only a third his age. Nobody except the child's little sister, who was now unabashedly staring at where my prick vanished into her big sister's body; now completely unaware that she was making almost as erotic a display herself, with her short skirt rumpled almost up to her belly-button, and wet little charms fully in view of any passer-by who happened along. Thankfully, nobody did. I still shudder to think about it. "Oooh, you're even bigger than Daddy." Oh shit. Every man likes to know he's big; but the thought of this little precocious morsel taking her own father's prick inside her almost had me spouting before I barely got inside her. "You fuck your own daddy?" I asked. "I used to," she pouted. "Then Momma caught Daddy in my room one night, and they had a big argument. He never came back; and I miss him," she sniffled. "After that, it was only me and Billy." Oh. "You and Billy," I repeated dumbly. "Billy taught me this," announced the girl sitting on my prick; seeming to recover her cheerfulness immediately, now that she had a prick inside her. The youngster deliberately did not bounce up and down. I guess it would have been way too obviously a little girl fucking. She closed her eyes; and her mouth screwed up in concentration, while I felt ripples of muscles running up and down the engorged member. "See," she told me, "I TOLD you I'd make it feel good for you." Oh God, did she ever. Too damned good for her own good, it seems. "I'm going to cum," I announced in barely a groan. I didn't dare say it louder. Still, I had to warn the child, even if she WAS way too young to worry about getting pregnant. "Are you going to put your baby-stuff inside me now?" she asked. I almost let her have every drop right then. Still, I somehow managed to hold on. After all, I wanted my first sex to last longer than five seconds! While I was in a hurry to finish before her mother got back ... or anybody ELSE noticed the obscene thing going on over at the swings . or some other children showed up, a few more seconds wouldn't make that much difference; while it would double or triple the time I had spent fucking a real live girl. What a way to lose your virginity! "How old are you, Hon?" I asked. Something I should have known a long time ago. Heck, some kids look younger than their ages. The kid could be eleven or twelve even. Some kids didn't develop breasts or hair on their vaginas until then. My prick actually wilted a little inside her at the scare. "Eight," she replied; holding up both hands; one with thumb and little-finger tucked under. "And a half," she added proudly. 8 1/2 ... still a kid, thank Goodness. "You're too young to have a baby yet," I reassured her; breathing a silent sigh of relief myself. "Momma won't let me take Billy's baby-stuff in my tummy any more," the girl responded. "She made us stop when my periods started, about two months ago." Oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT! I couldn't help it. The child's rippling cunny around my prick caught me by surprise. I had been paying more attention to the conversation than I had to the incipient eruption in my prick. All the time we had been talking, the little eight- year-old had been milking my prick with her tight little cunny ... and the youngster finally got what she had been begging me for ... a belly full of thick white cum. "It's not so much fun when he has to pull out, just when it's getting exciting," she complained; squirming and squeezing, and rippling her muscles up and down my prick. That was too much. I felt the first thin squirt of sperm spit out my prick, and into the child's welcoming belly. It was soon followed by thicker and more satisfying squirts. "Are you putting your baby-stuff in me now?" she asked; her attention obviously drawn by the fact that our movements had suddenly gotten slicker. It was WAY too late for me to pull out; so I just let it flow. Spurt after spurt, and jet after jet sprayed into the child, as it felt like I was almost pissing sperm into the child's womb. If fifty cops had arrived at that moment, I wouldn't have been able to stop fucking the child; jerking my sperm into her body in squirt after thick glorious squirt. "Uhuh," I groaned; unable to stop myself. "I'm doing it right now. Oh God, it feels good." "Thanks, Mister." She squirmed on me. "Did you like it?" She had to ASK? "Uhuh," I agreed; panting into her neck; enjoying the sweet scent of little girl added to the thick musk of male cum. "I liked it a LOT." The understatement of the century. My prick finally wilted a little; not really getting soft; but soft enough to pull out without hurting her. A thick white flood followed. "Wow," she muttered, "you sure do come a LOT ... even more than Daddy did. Is that really the stuff that makes babies?" she asked, innocently. "Uhuh," I could barely groan; guilt now overtaking me. "Wow," she repeated. "Am I going to have a baby now?" she asked, hopefully. "I want one, and Mom won't let Billy put his baby-stuff in me any more," she added with a slight moue of disappointment. Suddenly guilt warred with a desire to give the little girl what she was asking for. No wonder she let a strange man feel her up, fuck her, cum in her, and fill her tiny little womb with sperm. I'd never met a girl before who WANTED to get pregnant; though I've learned since it's not all that uncommon ... even in girls too young have babies yet. It's just not something people advertise. "Well ... Maybe," I explained. "Most girls don't usually get pregnant on the first try. Usually it takes at least two or three times of a man putting his baby-stuff in a girl before she catches. Though it could happen. You're a little young yet; but you COULD have my baby inside you right now." Oh God ... I could just see the headlines now, "Nine year old girl has BABY! Pervert in Park Arrested Man gets 99 years with no parole for fucking baby." Not that the girl was a baby ... far from it. She was more woman than most 25-year-olds. "Wow! He really did it in you, didn't he?" came the wide-eyed voice of the child now staring at her big sister's crotch where my seed was slowly trickling out. "That's even more stuff than Billy squirts," observed the youngster; looking in amazement at the mess in her sister's lap. "Yeah ... Well help me clean up," agreed the older girl; taking her skirt and wiping between her legs. "Here, let me borrow YOUR skirt a bit," she commanded; taking the little 6-year-old's and using it to finish wiping my dick. Neither youngster seemed the slightest embarrassed at showing off their completely bald little cunnies to a stranger who had just ejaculated inside the older girl. "There, that'll do it I guess," she decided, once I was just a little sticky. "You'd better get dressed before Momma gets back," she told me with the same voice-of-command she'd used on her little sister. Oh God ... talk about losing track of the really important things! If anybody had caught me with my pants down like that, just TALKING to two little pre-teenaged girls, they wouldn't HAVE to find sticky sperm in the youngster's twat to send me to jail forever. I almost cut my prick off with my zipper; fighting to get the thing closed. Wouldn't you know it? In my hurry, the damned thing JAMMED; and I could see their MOTHER coming up the sidewalk leading to the park. Oh DAMN! I didn't even get my prick properly back in my underpants. Shit. Still, we DID manage a bit of decorum. I managed to pick my book up, cover my lap with it, and PRETEND to be reading to the two girls when their mother finally arrived. JUST in time. "Were the girls good?" she asked; almost causing me to choke. I didn't DARE tell her how good the girls really had been. Thankfully, she noticed the book in my lap so I didn't have to reply. "Oh ... I see you're READING to the girls," she exclaimed with obvious delight. "The girls really DO like a good book; and I hate to interrupt." She looked at the cover, which I had down in my lap; just barely covering the open fly and bare prick underneath. "It looks kind of rare," she added. "It is," I agreed. "It's a classic." Well ... It was, and is. NOW you can buy the book in almost any bookstore, brand-new, right off the rack. Back in THOSE days, days of "The Comstock Act" even having the book in your possession could probably have gotten you twenty years in Federal Prison. Now the world has swung twice; and BOOKS are now legal ... even books like, "Autobiography of a Flea". Pictures however .... For a short while, ALL pictures and books were legal . even pictures (and books of pictures) of girls as young or even younger than the girl I had just had sex with, having real sex, full vaginal sexual intercourse with grown men, sucking and fucking like grown-ups, were legal. Many (a few years after this) coming from Denmark Sweden, and even Holland, where in THOSE days, a girl could have sex as often as she wanted ... and as young as she wanted. Many did; and quite a few of them posed while doing it. It was good pay, and the kids enjoyed it. Years later, long after it became extremely illegal, many of those kids still looked fondly back at the days when they were sex stars. Of course, I know now there was some completely illegal and abusive porn being made, even back then, where the children weren't protected like those Danish "sex star" kids were. Now, just owning one of those old beat-up pictures you bought legally over-the-counter will get you more years in jail than actually fucking, sucking, and getting one of the youngsters pregnant with your baby will. Sad, isn't it? A man and wife can be "underage" (16) and go to jail for taking pictures of themselves having sex ... Getting ten or twenty years in prison for "producing child-pornography"; where the EXCUSE is that, "Children are being molested and hurt, to make those pictures!" Say what? You send a child to JAIL for 20 years ... to PROTECT them from HAVING PICTURES TAKEN of them making love? When THEY are the ones taking the pictures of their own completely legal actions of having sex together? "The Law, Sir, is an ASS!" Truer words never spoken. However, in THOSE days, things were even worse, if you can believe it. A man could get arrested and sent to FEDERAL prison, just for printing a sex-education-manual for married women, to tell them about birth control. Yes, REALLY. FEDERAL prison, because the PAPER the pamphlet was PRINTED on had crossed State-Lines before being used to print "pornography". Yeah, right. It doesn't seem right NOW; but back then it was the Law of the Land ... just like today's idiocy about people looking at PICTURES is the same thing as doing what's on the pictures ... at least for child- porn. If that's the case, why isn't it illegal to look at pictures of bank-robberies or hijacking or murder? Aren't those far worse crimes than a little girl getting fucked by somebody she loves? Oh .. They're not. Sorry. Funny thing that ... It seems it's a far WORSE crime to look at a picture of a little girl having sex than to rape, torture, burn, and kill that same little girl, taking days or even months to torture the child to death. No? Then why the FUCK is the punishment for looking at the picture worse than that for raping and murdering the same girl? To me, something seems wrong about our country's attitude towards anything having to do with sex ... and especially books or pictures thereof. (Like this story: A long LONG prison-term, back in the days when the story took place; while actually DOING the things in the story wasn't all that bad ... If you married the girl, which in some places was even possible back then. Again, I curse myself for the stupid fool that I was. Sorry ... I'll get off the soapbox now. The point was: Just HAVING that particular book in my hot little hands back then, was a worse crime than what I had been doing to the little girl ... just because it was WRITTEN down! And I (idiot that I was) was sitting there using THAT BOOK to hide my half-hard erection from their mother. Talk about STUPID. Ah well ... You get wiser as you get older ... or you don't grow much older. "It's a book about a young girl growing up," I croaked; trying to get out of the mess without drawing more attention to either the book itself, OR what I was trying to hide underneath it. "It's VERY hard to get ... Almost no libraries have it," I explained. The book looked the part. And ... I was right. I knew the Vatican Library had a copy, also (I presume) The Congressional Library. Possibly even The Louvre. However, none of THEM would let anybody except, "serious liturgical scholars" look at such perverse material. Books like that, "Casanova," and even, "Lady Chatterly's Lover," not to mention, "Lolita," were generally only passed around under-the-counter at extremely exorbitant prices. But they STILL could be bought ... IF you knew where to get them. I did, luckily. However, I wasn't TOO worried about the woman recognizing the title. It didn't SOUND sexy, like, "The Many Loves of Casanova." "Well, why don't you continue reading to the girls for a bit. We don't have to go just yet." Oh shit. Trapped by my own cleverness. What could I do? I read the girls a chapter from the book. Wouldn't you know it was the part where Belle helps a man take his own daughter's virginity, and get her pregnant with his baby? At least I THINK that's what happened. It's been years since I finally lost my copy. Both girls stood there and just giggled; a thin drool sliding down the older girl's ankle; soaking her socks; both girls smelling intensely of male cum sticking to the insides of their short little dresses; while I falteringly read paragraph after paragraph about a man taking his daughter's virginity, fucking her, cumming in her, and getting the child pregnant with his baby ... just like the child right next to me might be conceiving MY child as we talked. I should have gotten up and run away. I should have asked the little girl standing at my side to marry me. I should have done the same thing with her little sister. I SHOULD have gone over to the woman on the bench and asked her for a date . her name, address, phone-number, ANYTHING, just to not lose track of her. I should have flagged down a passing priest and married the woman. I should have told her I was in love with her little girl. Anything! I did none of those things. I just read a chapter to two smirking little girls, who probably never dreamed such stories existed, and then finally shut the book when their mother got up. "Thanks for watching the girls," she smiled. "It really helped ... A lot!" "If there's ANYTHING I can do to show my appreciation," she added, "you be sure and come over to ask ... Mr. ...?" If ever there was an obvious invitation, that was it. Stupidly, stupidly STUPIDLY! I didn't take the invitation. I was too bloody worried about the thick cum still dripping from her oldest daughter's slit. If I had half a BRAIN, I'd have realized that a woman who didn't raise big objections to her older son pumping his prick in and out of his two sister's taut little bellies; spewing thick cum in the younger girl when the older of the two got too old .... Dumb, dumb, DUMB! You get wise when you get older; but there's nothing like lost opportunities to make a man feel miserable when he gets old. It took a few minutes to gather up shoes, socks, and other paraphernalia that kids tend to lose in playgrounds ... and especially sandboxes. Then they were leaving. It must have been one last try on her part; and I'll never forgive myself for not seeing it; but it's too late now. "Go back and thank the nice man for watching you," the woman told the older girl. "You can catch up with us after you're done. We'll walk slow and wait for you." Today, those very words just SCREAM invitation ... and knowledge about what her little girls and I had been up to. How COULD I have been that dense? "Momma said to come over here and thank you," repeated the girl. "Thanks for putting a baby in my belly. It makes me feel all gushy and wet inside." Well ... she SHOULD have been wet, with all the sperm I'd ejaculated inside the child. "Mmmm. I'm supposed to kiss you properly," she told me. I didn't remember her mother saying a word about kissing. Still, maybe it was a routine practice in her family ... only I'm sure not like WE did. Or maybe I'm wrong. I'll never know now. "Oh, not like THAT," she complained; as I bent down for a chaste little smooch. Darn, I was sure going to hate to see the last of her. (Again, stupid, stupid, stupid!) "Like THIS," she explained; climbing me like a squirrel. Placing each leg on either side of my waist, the little girl sat down on the swing facing me; her legs pointing in the opposite direction from mine. Her wet and bare little cunny splatted wetly on my now-exposed prick, while she shoved her little face at mine. I pecked at her lips; quite distracted by the feel of her cunny slobbering on my now-erect penis. "Not like that," she complained again. "Open your mouth, dummy" She had my name right THERE. "Mmmmm. That's better," the youngster moaned into my open mouth. "Thanks for putting a baby in my belly," she repeated. Oh God. "You're welcome," I groaned; lifting her a little so my now-erect prick could fit inside her. By then I didn't give a DAMN, if her whole family, mother, sister, brother, BIG brother, police, or the entire neighborhood stopped over to watch. I just HAD to get my prick inside the little girl's tight little tube again. Devil be damned. "Uh, Uh, OOOhh! The youngster slid down my prick until it was in to the root; and the child's talented little inner muscles were doing their dance again; milking my prick for it's seed. "Uhn, uh, unh," she grunted; bouncing up and down on my lap. "Are you going to put your baby-stuff in me again?" she asked; not stopping her squirming and milking on me. `Uh, huh, huh," I grunted in time to the, "Slap, slap, slap," of our genitals meeting. If her mother had looked back NOW, there wouldn't have been the slightest doubt what the two of us were doing on that swing. "Here it c - c - comes," I warned the little girl ... way too late; as I was already squirting thick sticky streams of goo inside her. "Uh, uh, uh, th - th - thank you," she answered; also in time to the thick wet slaps of our jerking bodies. "It feels NICE," she whined. "Much better than Bobby ... Better than DADDY even. Oooh, thank you." With that we had to pull apart. I gave the child one last open-mouthed kiss, and told her I loved her very much. Why, oh WHY did I stop there? My heart still aches. She gave me a grin that lit up the park like sun coming out from behind clouds. Pulling off my lap; she ignored the mess this time; not even using her dress to slop up the spill. She was halfway to the corner when she turned and said with the sunny smile I'll always treasure, "Thanks for the baby, Mister," and was gone. The whole family turned the corner, and I never saw any of them again. I knew the girl's mother simply could NOT have missed what her daughter said; as the girl was probably closer to her family than me ... and I heard each clear word in that childish yet somehow adult voice very distinctly. It wasn't until two minutes later, still staring after the departing family, that I came to my senses. DAMN! "WAIT!!" I suddenly yelled; starting after them at a run. The book and backpack I'd brought along went flying as I tore off around the corner in frantic search of my lost love. "Wait!" My words died to a whimper, as I realized nobody was to be seen. Oh, two or three people WERE on the sidewalk; but nowhere in sight was a family of three kids and a woman ... or anything looking like such. Somewhere up ahead, a big blue car pulled out from the curb ... but the chances were probably good it wasn't them either. Still, I chased it for almost three blocks, until it got too far away to see. I waited every day at the park for the next week and a half, until I simply HAD to go looking for work again. After that, I tried asking everybody I met there if anybody knew who they were. It seems they had just vanished. Of course, I figure they probably were just a family visiting the area ... for a day, week, or month; and had just happened to stop in at THAT park for some recreation. I came back there almost every weekend for over a year; until finally my job took me out of the area completely. It was only after I knew they were gone, that I realized the little girl had stolen my heart in the few short minutes we were together. Whether she took my child with her in her tummy like she wanted, I'll never know. I hope so .... On the other hand, I'd hate for the little girl to have been saddled with a child she didn't want. She DID so seem to want it though. I never fell in love with another girl. The memory of the child's sweet perfection always spoiled me for any other woman I met. Her, "Thanks for the baby," will be in my ears and mind when they lay me in the grave. I never had real sex again, either. Oh, I TRIED several times; but Jenny's childlike perfection just spoiled me for other women. Every time I'd try, I'd wilt. And no (evidence to the contrary) I'm NOT the kind of guy to hang around playgrounds, looking for little girls to molest. Besides, almost all little girls seemed so immature, compared to Jenny. One time in my life I had sex. One idyllic perfect time, with the most wonderful of all possible partners. How could I torture myself with anything less? Years later, when I finally got to be fairly well-to- do, I tried hiring several private investigators to try and find out who she was, and at the very least, how she was doing. If she turned out to be fat, happy, with a husband and ten kids, then I would have been happy for her. Maybe if I had found that out, I could have gone on to love somebody else. Maybe. My worry was that Jenny was somewhere, alone, with a baby, and nobody to help her in her misery. I ached for years; and still do to some extent, that I wasn't there to help her and the baby out. This story I guess, is my last hope. It's way too late to do anything now to fix what I did; but if somehow she or somebody in her family recognizes anybody in the story, then I hope they'll be kind enough to let her know. It's my last hope to apologize. In my mind I still call her Jenny. I never knew her real name. Worse yet, she never knew mine; because I was too much an idiot, and too frightened to tell her. Twenty-six year old men just do NOT fall in love with eight year old little girls. Only to my shame, dismay, and profound regret I did. I did, and I still am. Twenty short minutes, and I was lost forever. Perhaps my memory is failing. Everything else is. Perhaps this all really never happened; or didn't happen the way I think I remember it. Perhaps you're just a little girl I saw once in a park, and had fantasies about; and I never did even kiss you, let alone get in your nonexistent little panties. Perhaps it's just my imagination. But if so, then the world is an incredibly poorer place for your not existing; and I've been in love with a fantasy for all these years. I just don't believe that. It would be too cruel; and the world has been cruel enough, keeping me away from you for all these years. Why didn't anybody TELL me being in love could hurt like a knife in the gut? Jenny, I love you. I did, from the moment you first giggled and asked me to put my baby inside your belly. Strange method of proposing I think; but I treasure it anyway. I loved you then, I love you now, I always will. Please forgive an old idiot for not telling you when you needed him, and he had the chance. I'll never forgive myself; but still live with the hope that someday you might live to see this story and forgive me for being such an idiot. The universe isn't really kind to idiots. I miss her. I miss her every day; but mostly at night. I probably won't live out the year. The doctor says the tumor is inoperable. That's why I'm writing this now. I don't have much longer to look for her. The world gets darker every day. In my mind I still call her Jenny. I never knew her real name. -- +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+