By JetBoy
A month or so passed. Lisa came to visit regularly — sometimes alone, usually with more of Vanessa’s friends. I found myself masturbating more than I had in years, with Lisa the star of my fantasies more often than not.
I liked it best in the morning, all cozy beneath the sheets, replaying Lisa’s sex show before the mirror in my head. Sometimes if I was feeling especially daring, I’d imagine it was me making her come.
I’d be sitting behind the girl, both of us naked. I was kissing her neck, my fingers toying with her smooth slit while she leaned back against my breasts. She’d gasp and shiver and cry out and go limp in my arms, then I’d kiss her quivering mouth.
It was a fantasy that never failed to make me come like gangbusters. And afterwards, lying quietly on my damp bed, I felt contented… but also troubled. I was a grown woman, damn it, lusting for a girl of eleven — the same age as my own daughter!
It was unnerving, yes. But not enough, not nearly enough to make those feelings go away.
I kept telling myself, Okay, I’ve got this… thing, this lust for a preteen girl. Yeah, it’s kind of sick, but that’s how I feel… so I might as well just ride it out. It’ll just fade away, I’ll get to know her better, and she’ll just be like another one of my daughter’s friends. And I’ll be over my desires, all cured, and no one will ever be the wiser.
Sounds good in theory, anyhow. Problem was, Lisa had other ideas.
*****
Fourth of July. It had always been a big deal in our household. Since we were the ones with the swimming pool, our home had evolved into the place for any and all summertime family get-togethers. (For Christmas and Thanksgiving, the go-to place was my brother Ernie’s suburban palace in Florida.)
I’d had to get the house ready for the inflow of relatives that came down for the occasion, which gave me a lot less time for scary fantasies about a certain underage girl. Lisa herself had been out of town for a couple of weeks with her family event of her own, and her absence seemed to ease the frantic lust I’d been feeling for her. I found myself thinking, Good, I’m getting over this whole crazy obsession with my daughter’s best friend. Soon, I’ll be my old, slightly boring, motherly self again.
One of our family rituals for the Fourth was to put together a huge picnic feast and take it to Bishop Lake, where our town always gathered for a day of fun and relaxation, capped by a spectacular fireworks show that took place after nightfall.
The day beforehand, Vanessa had asked me if Lisa could come along with us. I said “Sure,” confident that I could handle being around her without acting the lust-struck fool. Anyhow, I had my brothers, my sister and all their kids to distract me… and what with the crowds, commotion and non-stop fun and games, I doubted I’d even see much of Lisa.
Our picnic baskets packed to bursting, we all piled into our various minivans and SUVs and set out for the lake. My vivacious sister-in-law Carla rode with us, and she commanded so much of my attention with her hilarious family stories that I didn’t get the chance to do much more than exchange a quick hello with Lisa, who spent the ride doing giggly girl stuff in the back with Nessa.
Soon we arrived at the lake, where everyone spread out their blankets on the shore, then we laid out our feast and tucked in. Like I’d predicted, I was so busy moving around — socializing with family, friends and neighbors, sampling fried chicken, barbecued ribs, potato salad, cole slaw and every kind of cake and pie imaginable — that I’d barely gotten more than a glance at Lisa.
By sunset, things had calmed down somewhat. It had grown cool enough to be a little nippy, so I sat on our blanket with one of Great-Aunt Claudie’s quilts draped over my legs. I was enjoying a moment of calm before the fireworks show, watching the horizon slowly devour the sun while being serenaded by the whooping and romping of nearby kids.
Then, just before the night fully descended, who should appear at my side but a slightly out-of-breath Lisa.
For the first time that day, I took a good, long look at her. She was barefoot, wearing a very cute white and blue striped knit dress that came to about mid-thigh. Her hair was enchantingly tousled, eyes bright.
Oh, my stars… I could feel my body throb from head to toe, my self-control out the window and over the fence in an instant.
“Hi, Ms. Johnson!” she chirped.
“Um, hi, yourself,” I replied, fighting to sound much calmer than I was. “Where’s Vanessa?”
Lisa pointed towards the lake. “She’s down by the water, playin’ freeze tag. I was gonna play, too… but I wanted to be with you instead!” She glanced down at the quilt that was draped over my lower half. “That looks nice. Uh… can I sit under there, too? My legs are gettin’ cold!” She broke into a brisk shivery-dance for a few seconds.
I knew it was a very bad idea… but right then, nothing in the world could have stopped me from responding as I did. “Sure, no problem,” I smiled, lifting the edge of the blanket. “Come on, get under with me.”
And before I knew it, Lisa had positioned herself between my legs and sat. I’d really meant for her to sit next to me, but well, there we were.
Fighting to calm my galloping pulse, I settled the quilt over us so that only our heads could be seen. Lisa leaned back against me, all but purring with contentment. She looked back and up at me, her smile making me light-headed. “I like this,” she said.
She smelled like baked apples. I felt her settle herself against me, felt her bottom wiggling between my thighs. My hands under the quilt hung over my spread legs, just above hers. Suddenly her warm calves were against my palms. She’d raised them, and my hands seemed to naturally rest on her legs. Unable to stop myself, I began to gently stroke them.
Lisa looked up at me again, lips parted slightly. “Mmmmmm, that feels really good.”
“You like that?”
“Mmm-hmm…” I couldn’t resist. My hands began to inch their way higher, ever so slowly sliding up Lisa’s legs.
A loud crack, a flare in the sky above. A spray of color and light. The fireworks had begun. Everyone oohed and ahhed.
I began to stroke her thighs. Both hands, both legs, my soul drinking in the moment. The unimaginable softness of Lisa’s skin. The spicy scent of her. The warmth of her slim body against mine. I was smitten, completely in love.
I barely heard but felt her happy sigh — and then her legs began to slowly move apart for me. Welcoming my touch. Nestled against my sex, Lisa’s bottom seemed to pulse with pleasure at each soft downstroke of my fingers.
I realized that the angle of Lisa’s legs had to be high enough to fully expose her panties, if one was able to peek beneath the blanket we shared. I wondered what color they were — knowing that was a place my dirty imagination had best avoid, going there anyhow.
Lisa enjoyed my feather-light caresses for a couple of minutes while we watched the fireworks, the show now fully underway. The sky seemed ablaze in vivid reds, greens and blues, underscored by the whistling of ascending rockets and the sharp report of their colorful detonations.
Detecting movement, I glanced down to see Lisa, tilting her head back to look at me. Her eyes were alight with mischief.
“Wanna know a secret?” she murmured. I nodded. She leaned up to whisper directly into my ear, and even then softly: “Sometimes I touch my legs the way you’re touchin’ ‘em…”
“You do?” I said softly, my head spinning with desire for this bewitching creature.
“Uh-huh,” she whispered, her warm breath caressing my ear. “but y’know what I really like, the best of all? It’s to do that in the middle of my legs!”
A pause, one in which my heart seemed to have ceased beating. “In between,” she added, giving me a most significant look. As if I’d somehow failed to understand exactly what she meant.
My heart pounded in my ears. “You — you do?”
“Uh-huh… and it feels really, really, really nice!” We stared at one another for a few heartbeats while the fireworks whizzed and popped above us. Then she put her lips to my ear again. “You do that to me, okay?” then back to gaze at me, her eyes warm with hope.
I stared at Lisa with my mouth open, still absently fondling her thighs.
Then I decided, and leaned down to whisper, “You can never, ever tell anyone about this. All right?”
She pulled away again to look up at me, a big smile on her face, and nodded.
“I mean it. Not anyone.”
Her lips brushed my ear again. “I know. Never. Cross my heart an’ hope to die.” She leaned back even further into me. I felt her legs open even wider, if that was possible.
Summoning up my courage, I allowed my hands to slide slowly, lightly up Lisa’s legs. I felt the wondrous softness of her inner thighs, converging toward her sweet center.
Then, before I was even prepared for it to happen, my fingers touched cloth. I had come to a dangerous place: Lisa’s panties.
This was it. I was on the verge of committing an act that had the potential to wreck my life for good. But somehow, my life didn’t seem to matter so much, right then. All that counted was this instant. Me and this heartbreakingly beautiful little girl, nestled together beneath a blanket.
I let my right hand take the lead, the index finger toying with the leg band of Lisa’s underpants, all the while steeling myself to take that first big step, the one that would take this from innocent snuggling to actual sex with a girl of eleven. Lisa took a shaky breath, her bottom shifting restlessly against my crotch.
I casually looked around, making certain that everyone in the vicinity was enthralled by the firework display, then slid my hand the rest of the way between Lisa’s legs, cupping the front of her panties.
And even though I was fully aware of how excited Lisa was, the warmth of her sex startled me. She was hot and moist through the soft cotton, ready for me. I trailed a finger down the crease of her slit.
“Oh, yesss!” Lisa hissed, her eyes briefly rolling upward, a visible shiver racing through her frame..
Alarmed, I leaned in and murmured, “You have got to look like you’re watching the fireworks, honey!”
So she gasped and said, “Oh, wow,” to the sky.
Reassured, I continued to explore my little preteen treasure. My heart pounded like a mad thing as I slipped a hand into her panties, my fingers searching for the delights hidden inside.
A tiny, choked cry escaped her parted lips when I touched her bare pussy for the first time. Lisa was wide open for me, dripping with excitement. And oh, my God, I was so hot, my body glazed in sweat in spite of the night’s coolness. Lisa was hot too, her cunt like a juicy furnace.
She was greedy, eager for more, much more of what I was giving her. That much was obvious when she seized my wrist, gripping it as if she was afraid of me taking my hand away. Fat chance.
I glanced down at her, and a dizzying surge of lust pounded through me when I fell into those deep green eyes and saw the fierce, pure need in them, begging me to make her come. And at that point, I didn’t need much in the way of persuasion.
I began to masturbate her, exploring every inch of Lisa’s vulva. And she was just loving the fireworks! She oohed and aahed and gasped and squealed and cried out with each new burst of color as it exploded in the sky above. If anyone had looked our way — thankfully, no one did — they’d have thought that this particular girl liked fireworks a bit too much.
Unable to resist, I stole another glance at Lisa. And what a vision of young sexuality she was! Her eyes were glazed with pleasure, her mouth slack, lips wet, cheeks flushed. Her gaze shifted to meet mine, and she spoke in a strained whisper, stammering, “M-Ms. Johnson?”
“What, honey?” That was when I eased a finger into Lisa’s tight, slippery vagina, surprised to find myself penetrating her right up to the third knuckle. She had no hymen, apparently she’d already seen to that.
A soft moan escaped Lisa’s lips, her eyes rolling back and drifting shut. Then they flickered open again, and she drew a long, deep breath before whispering, “I love you…”
I wanted so desperately to kiss her right then — to slide my tongue inside her pretty, willing mouth, to taste those soft lips. Of course, I couldn’t do any such thing. Instead, I murmured, “I love you too, Lisa.”
I was teasing her pussy, just the way I liked to when masturbating myself, or fingering a female partner — taking her to the very edge of release, then easing up enough to keep her from coming, then approaching the precipice once more. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was a very effective technique for driving a lover wild.
But it quickly struck me that I might have gotten carried away in the heat of the moment. Lisa was starting to lose control of herself, reacting to even the gentlest touch. Every colorful burst in the sky elicited a moan from her. And having seen Lisa come once before, I quickly calculated that we would need the grand finale to drown out the sounds of her sexual rapture. Anything less might draw the attention of onlookers to the two us, fireworks or no fireworks.
Just as this notion occurred to me, the finale began — so I centered my attention on the firm nubbin of my little lover’s clitoris, manipulating it between two fingers. And as the biggest and loudest of the fireworks went off, so did Lisa.
It was spectacular, with rocket after rocket whistling into the night sky, coming apart with great thunderous bangs and dazzling flashes of light in all the hues of the rainbow. Everyone clapped and cheered and made such a lively ruckus that Lisa’s long awaited orgasm passed unnoticed. A good thing, too… because when she came, it was a grand finale in itself.
When that blessed release first hit, she let out a wail of relief at first, then a long drawn-out cry that started softly, then began to rise in volume and pitch. I felt her body moving frantically against mine, hips thrusting against my busy fingers, her left hand gripping my leg so tightly that it left a bruise I had to hide for days.
It was so thrilling to hear Lisa try to maintain her pretence of watching the fireworks as she came, babbling crazily while I masturbated her. “Ohhh, look, ohhhhh wow, yeah… mmMMMMMMMmm ohhh, it’s… that’s so — OoooOOOOOOHhhh it’s so b-beautiful! OH! Mmmm, oh yes, Ms J-Johnson, I… AAAHhh! Oh no, no, I can’t… I c-c-can’t…!”
And with those final deep, thundering booms from above that we felt as much as heard, Lisa reached the apex of her pleasure — legs quivering, buttocks clenched tightly, eyes squeezed shut and her mouth hanging open. I had her pulsing cunt cupped in my right hand while the left was underneath, supporting her bottom — one finger inside the crack and lightly resting against her rosebud.
Finally, with a huge release of breath, Lisa went limp in my arms. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and a patina of sweat glazed her forehead.
Peering about to make sure no one was paying attention to us, I carefully removed my hand from Lisa’s panties and tugged that short skirt down. Then I tenderly eased her back until she was lying beside we, wrapping her up in the quilt.
When Vanessa came around a few minutes later to look for her friend, I said, “Lisa watched the fireworks with me, sweetheart… then she fell asleep.” And it was the truth. Part of the truth, anyhow.
*****
Before that incredible evening by the lake I’d had a serious crush on Lisa, a secret longing that would never be anything more than that. After that night, my feelings for that amazing girl had become an obsession — a crazy, forbidden lust that had me in a grip of steel. By then, I was bringing myself off at least three times a day, sometimes more.
Those moments of guilt had grown fewer and farther between, too — especially now that I knew Lisa was at least open to the idea of exploring sex with me. Eleven years old or not, I dreamed of having this girl in my bed, outdoors, in my car, a bathtub — anywhere!
I’d honestly believed that I had this little crush of mine under control until that Fourth of July night. I found myself assailed with memories of it in the days that followed — her hungry little twisting body against mine, those passionate moans, the smell, the taste of her! Seconds after I’d brought Lisa to orgasm, I removed my hand from her panties and licked my fingers, savoring the rich, sharp flavor of her cunt.
After that, it was all I could do to restrain myself from inviting Lisa to sleep over that very night. I imagined myself spiriting her out of Vanessa’s room in the middle of the night and into my bed, where I would make love to every inch of her body and to hell with the consequences.
Needless to say, it didn’t play out that way. Instead, Vanessa sat down and snuggled with me while we let Lisa snooze. Soon her parents came looking for her. We chatted for a moment, then I gently awakened the girl and turned her over to them with a pat on the back.
As they wandered away into the night, Lisa turned to give me a sleepy smile that only added fuel to the fire that seethed and snarled beneath my belly.
Packing up our stuff, I got Vanessa, my various family members and myself back to the house as hastily as I could without arousing anyone’s suspicions. Excusing myself for the night on grounds of unexpected sleepiness, I made my way upstairs to the guest bedroom (my brother Jim, his wife and their two-year-old were installed in my room that evening), stripped, brushed my teeth and crawled into bed, where I fingered myself to orgasm at least four times.
*****
My whole world had been turned upside down. Where before I’d mostly been attracted to beautiful women and the occasional male, now I was endlessly distracted by the sexuality of young girls. Wherever I went, whenever I turned on the television or picked up a magazine, my attention was captured and held by the sight of undeveloped female bodies.
My fingers still held the memory of Lisa’s bare slit — its warmth and smoothness, how juicy it grew to the touch. I wondered what it might be like to explore more of her. She barely had breasts to speak of — would it be difficult to suck her nipples, or would I have to content myself with teasing those tiny buds erect with my tongue? If I went down on Lisa, would it be like kissing a mouth? What might it feel like to have those angel-soft thighs against my face as I licked her? How would she react if I parted the cheeks of her flawless buttocks and explored her rosebud with my tongue?
And once I’d had these thoughts about Lisa, it was all too easy for me to transfer them to other young girls. She still held the leading role in my sex fantasies, but no longer held exclusive rights.
In my day-to-day routine, enticing little nymphets regularly crossed my path. The two cuties in school uniforms who passed by me in the mall… a tomboy in flannel shirt and cut-off denim shorts, sailing down the sidewalk on her skateboard… even a bare-legged blonde girl I saw at a neighborhood pizzeria who couldn’t have been more than nine. And when I took Vanessa to see the latest Harry Potter movie, I was blindsided by a wave of helpless lust for Emma Watson that left me with restless hands and damp panties.
I was coming to the realization that I might be a lesbian pedophile. These feelings should have left me appalled, even horrified … but somehow, they didn’t, not exactly.
That said, I experienced a hell of a shock one afternoon when a glance at my own daughter Vanessa had me seeing her in a very different, very unexpected way.
It happened so suddenly. I’d walked upstairs to ask Nessa if she wanted to go shopping with me, not realizing that she’d just come from the pool and was getting changed.
There was my daughter, completely naked. The stereo was on, so she didn’t hear me approach her open door. She’d just taken off her suit and had her back to me, moving to the music as she rummaged through her underwear drawer.
I was somewhat astonished at the first thought to pop into my mind, which was, well, how absolutely scrumptious she was.
To which my common sense primly replied: Oh please… she’s your daughter! You’ve seen her naked a million times!
Well, okay, sure — but not for at least three years or so. And daughter or not, she was stunning, even lovelier than Lisa. Good grief, what a perfect bottom she had!
I knew if she saw me there she’d play the Daughter Intruded Upon, but for the moment I just couldn’t turn away. Shaking that flawless bare butt to Katy Perry, she was, I blush to admit it, getting me hot.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, I turned away and moved slowly down the hall on autopilot, all thoughts of shopping gone. Instead I went to my room, closed and locked the door, and took off all my clothes.
My body was tingling all over as I stood before the big mirror in front of the bed, the same one I’d watched Lisa masturbate in a few weeks ago. I caressed my breasts, teasing the nipples, loving how they swelled to the touch. They were erect, throbbing, hungry to be loved, and won’t someone suck them for me, pretty please…?
I fell back on the bed, spreading my legs wide apart and slipping a hand down, down to palm my vulva, groping it roughly for a few exquisite seconds before my fingers got to work. No need for a subtle buildup here, just zero in on my eager clit with the right hand, while driving two fingers hard and deep into my dripping cunt with the left. I was wide open, fucking myself like a woman possessed.
I see Vanessa, that yummy bottom of hers — ohhh, no, I can’t, I can’t. Lisa, oh my sweet Lisa, kiss me, little girl, my precious little lover. Let me touch you, caress you, show you how good it is to be loved by a woman. Oh yes, Lisa, you’re coming now — come for me honey, oh YESSS, what a good girl, Oooohhh now I’m coming, my God oh my God…!
That was when the queen mother of all orgasms hit, enveloping me in its crushing embrace. I nearly bit through my lower lip in my struggle not to scream. God only knows what Vanessa would have thought if she’d seen me… or if she knew that my glimpse of her in the nude was what drove me to maul my body like this in the first place.
I lay quietly, the staccato thudding of my heart ringing in my ears. Good grief… what the hell happened just then?
Just when I was resigning myself to this screwy infatuation with underage girls, my own daughter had managed to complicate things even more.
Continue on to Chapter 3