Asstr Slut

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Asstr Slut


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Author: Dayvid Notellin ( dnt_x-asstr@yahoo.com )
Summary: Not all little girls
are innocent, not even the ones who appear to be perfectly behaved little
ladies.
He didn't even realize he was
doing it. At least, not until she moved, causing his own eyes to move, and he
realized she was looking at him - straight at him. That was when he
realized that he'd been staring straight at the little girl's panties for...
well far longer than he should have been, that was sure! Ten seconds?
Twenty?
His face flushed with
embarrassment, all the more so when he saw that hers didn't. If anything, hers
seemed pleased . As if she'd accomplished a goal. And perhaps she had.
The skirt was really pretty small for so young a girl, though he knew they were
wearing them short these days. Still, she couldn't have been more than what,
eight? Nine perhaps? And she sure has hell shouldn't have had the fabric
of her panties tucked so deeply between what must have been quite puffy labia!
That was what had really caught his eye. He'd always been a sucker for
cameltoes - pun notwithstanding, and when the little girl had plopped down into
one of the chairs in the waiting area, her legs splaying wide, she'd shot him a
view his eyes had shot to automatically.
The reason for her moving
became apparent as she got up, grabbing her bag, and heading for the boarding
gate. The chime had sounded, and now the announcer was telling them to begin
boarding. Clark grabbed his own carry-on - a satchel filled mostly with papers
and his tablet, and made his way to the crowd as his hand sought out the ticket
in the side pocket.
He was tired - exhausted
really. The week-long seminar had taken its toll. He was really too old for
this sort of thing. Even at forty he'd been able to party and whore with the
younger crowd, but it seemed like once he'd hit fifty, he'd lost interest. Not
so much in the girls - they were always young, attractive, and willing to do
some really interesting things - but the partying no longer appealed, and
really, to get seminar groupies, you had to do the seminar parties. So in
recent years, he'd generally satisfied himself with calling an
"escort" to his room for some good - and less rowdy - exercise on a
more intimate level.
This time though, the last few
days of his schedule hadn't really allowed, and he could feel himself growing
restless for some sex. He was looking forward to getting home to that cute
little intern Emily, who had some sort of "Boss Crush" on him. She
was only seventeen - far, far too young for him. But as long as she was
willing to give it out, he sure as hell wasn't going to turn it down!
After getting his ticket
scanned by the conductor, he made his way to his cabin. It'd cost far too much.
Every year the rates went up and it seemed like the cabins got harder to find.
But he'd managed to get a single-solo this time, and was looking forward to a
good meal followed by several hours of uninterrupted sleep. He wasn't so much
physically exhausted as emotionally . It'd been a harried trip so far,
and the seminar hadn't gone according to plan. They never did, but this time
had been particularly bad, and he'd had a ton of stress. As he opened his cabin
door, he felt eyes on him, and saw down at the end of the car, the same little
girl he'd locked eyes with in the waiting area. He stumbled hurriedly into his
cabin.
After the train had got up to
speed and the utilities were available, he spent a productive time washing up.
It was refreshing, and he felt more human as he made his way to the dining car.
This particular line, though modern, had some old-fashioned ideas about their
trains, and still had dining at tables available - to those who could afford
it. The rest generally ate at the counter or in their seats or cabins. Clark
took an empty booth and was tucking into a wonderful veggie lasagna. Part of
the reason he liked this line was the cooking.
He was almost finished when the
same little girl slid into the seat across from him. "I'm Julie," she
said as if he'd asked.
Clark frowned. It was bad
enough she'd caught him staring at - well, where he shouldn't have been
staring. But now apparently she thought that had made them friends somehow. It
wasn't that he didn't like kids, it was just that he didn't really like
them much. They were typically loud, rude, and far too energetic. Still, common
courtesy pretty much dictated that when one met someone on a train, one was as
pleasant to them as one could manage.
"Nice to meet you Mr.
Clark," she said politely, extending her hand. It surprised him both
because the tone was so polite and cultured, but more because her hand wasn't
angled for shaking. She expected him to kiss it - or he was grossly
mistaken. He took her fingers between his fingers and thumb, and as expected,
she didn't even flinch as he brought it to his lips. He was surprised to find
that she smelled of lightly-scented soap - she'd clearly washed up before
dinner, unlike most people did these days, and his estimation of her went up a
notch. She apparently wasn't one of "the great unwashed", in either
the literal or figurative sense. His smile was actually sincere as he released
her hand, and he was again surprised to see that hers was both sincere and
calmly accepting of the kiss just above her knuckles, as if it happened to her
every day.
He released her hand, and she
spoke again, her voice calm, measured, and yet still bright and fresh with her
youth. "I'm terribly sorry to intrude, but I was hoping you could
help me out," she said. It sounded like something out of an old movie.
"Sounds like something out
of an old movie," he accused.
It elicited a merry laugh,
almost a giggle, that brought a smile to his own lips. "Busted!" she
said. Then in a lower voice, "But you seemed like such a gentleman that I
didn't want to come across as some dumb kid." She had a conspiratorial
look to her eyes, like they had some sort of shared secret. It was probably
some silly kid-game, he figured, but she was a charming little thing.
Her eyes were huge and deep
golden-brown, high-quality caramel while it's still in the hot, liquid phase.
Her hair was a deeper brown, though with highlights of a similar deep
golden-brown tone, and not curled, but more curly than wavy. It covered her
shoulders in a beautiful mane and fell half-way down her back. Straight, it
probably reached the vee of her behind.
Her face was too pink to be
called tan, but too tanned to be called pale, with a brief scattering of
freckles which were already fading. By the time she hit mid-teens, they'd
likely be gone. Pity, he thought. They added something to her appearance
which while pretty enough, was otherwise fairly standard in terms of what
"pretty" meant. She still had a bit of childhood roundness, and it
was clear that she'd end up with laugh-lines early in life - her demeanor was
far too happy for it to be otherwise.
Naturally she had nothing to
speak of in the way of curves yet, though when he'd seen her walking ahead of
him in the station, he saw enough to know that under that little skirt was a
very nicely-rounded behind - not big, like the kids liked them these days - but
round . Her legs were nice enough as well, for a kid, and her posture was
far better than most girls. She must go to an excellent school. Or perhaps she
was a model or something. At any rate, she carried herself well, which did
wonderful things for her appearance. Even though he knew she couldn't have
anything under her top to speak of, her bearing made it seem as if she
might.
The outfit likewise spoke of
culture and class. It was simple linen for the most part, snow-white and with
only enough embellishment to actually embellish , without overpowering.
The skirt was some sort of blend, a dark beige that went well with her hair and
eyes, and light enough to flow, even though it was short enough to reveal - as
he'd discovered at the station. The thigh-high white socks and tan Mary-Janes
completed the ensemble, making the whole greater than the sum of its parts. The
only jewelry was a gold chain which fell into the opening in her top, hiding
whatever the pendant was, and a pair of gold studs in her ears. All-in-all, she
was very pretty, as well as damned cute, though in a somewhat subdued manner.
"So what am I rescuing you
from," he asked, his tour of her form and fashion complete.
"Highwaymen? Some sort of dragon? A plague of locust?"
"I wish! " she
rolled her eyes. "Try utter and complete boredom! My parents are
schmoozing - daddy is hoping for a promotion - and they expect me to completely
disappear after making a good first impression." She took a sip of his
untouched water and Clark noticed for the first time that she was wearing
lipstick. It was so subtle and well-matched, that he hadn't realized it until
he saw it on the rim of the glass.
Clark's patience had suddenly
run its course. He was not about to stick around an entertain a child,
no matter how charming she might be. He'd nearly finished his supper,
and was looking forward to that nap, though at the moment he didn't feel the
least bit tired. "I'm very sorry Julie," he said, managing to keep
the irritation from his voice, "but I won't be staying long. Now that I've
finished," he tossed his napkin on his plate indicating he was done,
"I'll be returning to my cabin for a much-earned rest. Now if you'll
excuse me..."
He was starting to slide out of
the booth when he felt her foot on his leg, stopping him more in surprise than
anything else. She leaned forward and whispered, "Did you like the view in
the bus station?"
Suddenly he got it. She was
going to blackmail him into keeping her entertained! Why, of all the
low-down, sneaky, underhanded... he could feel his face reddening, more in
anger than embarrassment.
But she'd read him well, and
spoke again before he could attack. "Don't worry Mr. Clark," she said
mildly, "I'm not going to make any fuss. I just wanted to know if you
enjoyed looking at my panties as much as I enjoyed showing them to you. Was the
fabric tucked deeply enough? It was hard to tell by touch, but you seemed to
think it interesting enough to keep looking."
"I... er ...
uh..." he said, fumbling, caught completely off-guard by her admission of
setting him up that way, as well as her claim to enjoy showing him.
"I guess," he finally got out, "it was fine. I mean, not that
I..."
Her smile lit up her face, and
the foot on his calf slid upward. "Oh good, so you did like looking
between my legs! I tell you, if the chime hadn't sounded, I'd have given you a
lot more to look at!" In an even lower voice, she added, "It
makes me really horny when men look at my naughty bits - or when I look at
theirs!"
Clark was beside himself. How
the hell was he supposed to respond to that? He tried to think, but that
attempt was cut off by the feel of her foot on his crotch, where he could feel
his manhood swelling at an alarming rate. Apparently she'd slipped her shoe
off, as she was lightly kneading him and, he though, "feeling him up"
with her toes!
Like a deer, Clark fled. He
went from the table to his cabin door with no recollection whatsoever of having
traversed the distance. He didn't think he'd run the distance, but the
way his heart was pounding as he leaned against the cabin door, closed behind
him, it wasn't impossible. After a moment to calm himself, he shook his head. Was
he having some sort of hallucination? Thinks like that didn't happen in
real life! Or maybe she was having some sport with him - probably laughing her
arse off back in the dining car. Yes, that was probably it. She'd seen him
looking at the station and really was bored by her parents' inattention.
So she'd availed herself of a ready target for some entertainment.
Well he'd brought it on
himself, he thought after the searing heat of anger had dissipated. He
shouldn't have been looking at the gusset of a preteen in the first place! By
the time he'd washed his face and brushed his teeth, his hands had stopped
shaking and the pounding of his heart had subsided.
But what hadn't subsided
was his painfully-hard erection. Truly, it had been too long since he'd
been laid, if that tiny bit of stimulation had so aroused him! He couldn't
recall that last time a little footsy-under-the-table had increased his heart
rate!
He still needed the nap though,
so he folded down the bed and stripped down to his underwear, smiling at the
reflection in the mirror. His erection looked huge the way it was
sticking his underwear out! Laying down in the bed, he reached for his tablet,
dimmed the lights, and turned it on. A little porn was always nice, though he
didn't think he'd need it.
None of his usual porn sites
were appealing to him tonight though, which irritated him. He started four
videos in succession, lightly stroking himself as each started, but none
appealed. The fifth had just finished buffering when the door to his cabin
clicked open - in his confusion and haste, he'd forgotten to lock it!
Julie slipped in, closing the
door quickly behind her, and he barely got the blanket to cover himself before
she turned around. Her eyes were bright with mischievous excitement as she
giggled. "Made it without anyone seeing me!" Seeing the look of shock
and fear on his face, she calmed down and tried to calm him too.
"Oh, stop fretting, Clark!
I'm here for you, honest!" She began to undo the buttons on her top as if
it were the most normal, natural thing in the world to be doing while standing
in an adult's cabin on a train while he tried to hide his erection.
"What?" he asked,
quickly replacing it with, "How?" followed briefly by
"Why?"
She grinned at him. "Slow
down old-timer. One question at a time." The top came off, exposing her
braless bare chest to him. As he'd expected, there was little enough there in
the breast department, but like all men since time began, his eyes
automatically locked on her nipples, which seemed to him to be large, ripe, and
tightening even as he watched. "What - That's easy. I want to make love
with you. How - I'm pretty sure you know how. And Why? That's easiest of all.
You're a nice guy. I could tell that immediately by the way you blushed when I
caught you looking. You're clean, smell nice, and have been very nice to me
even after I interrupted your dinner for no good reason. I think you'll make a
great lover. I'm sure you'll keep my secret. And I know your cock
is large and hard for me." With one swift motion, she slid her skirt down
onto the floor, and stood before him in nothing but panties - still tucked into
the crease to exaggerate her cameltoe, her socks and shoes.
Despite years of conditioning,
Clark's basic nature was asserting itself. A lovely young lady was standing
before him, offering herself to him, and his libido was all in favor of taking
her up on the offer. His cock sent shocks down his spin with every slight
movement of the blanket against it, and he couldn't have torn his eyes off her
with a jackhammer. Then she dropped the bomb.
"Don't you think I'm
pretty?" she said, her eyes full of sadness at his implied rejection. Of
course, he hadn't rejected her - yet - and it was unlikely she could
actually bring the tears her expression indicated to bear, but the male
conditioning runs deep, and he couldn't help but reply immediately, "Of
course I think you're pretty - hell, you're beautiful! "
Her face lit up, and he
realized how he'd been played. Clearly this little girl knew enough how to
manipulate him! One of his married-with-children friends had once told him that
his daughter had been born with the knowledge of how to wrap daddy
around her finger. Clark was getting a taste of that now, and wondered if all
girls are born with that knowledge.
It was too late to do anything
about it though. Julie had already hopped up onto the bed, jostling the blanked
against his pecker enough to make him shiver with pleasure, and was quickly
divesting herself of shoes and socks. In a few seconds she turned to him,
flipped over, and crawled to him on hands and knees wearing nothing but her
panties. "Don't worry Clark," she said in a voice that should have
belonged to a much older woman. "I'll be gentle," she grinned, then,
reaching him, pressed her lips to his.
The sensation was like an
avalanche. Her lips were soft, warm, and opened immediately, her tongue
slipping into his mouth before he could even think, and then it was too late -
his own tongue responded and he was lost in the deep, sweet, and very, very
adult kiss. Her mouth was fresh, warm, liquid, and much smaller than he
expected. When he realized that, it drove home the realization that he was
tongue-kissing a child , and it was an odd sensation to realize that it
didn't matter . Or rather, it mattered - but in the exact opposite way it should
matter. Instead of being turned off by the fact, instead it seemed
enormously stimulating!
Somehow he'd gone from sitting
up to laying down with this sexy little girl atop him. Clark had always had a
particular fondness for the woman-superior position, and his hands
automatically moved up to caress her, once again finding the smallness
of her body to be exciting rather than the opposite. Her skin was smooth, her
body lacking the curves that would be there later to soften the bones beneath.
He could feel the muscles of her tummy, the ribs of her chest, and the
rock-hard nipples with little behind them. His hands ran down her back, feeling
the muscles, the dimples above her behind, and that exquisitely rounded and
quite firm behind. Gliding over her panties, he continued his exploration,
finding her calf-like legs, sans the rounder musculature of maturity, also
exciting, and when he touched her feet, she jerked and giggled like a ticklish
little girl - because she was one. Granted, many grown women have ticklish feet
too, but their reaction isn't nearly as sharp - she almost bit his
tongue!
For her part, Julie was busy
getting the sheets and blanket out of the way. She wanted to be pressed against
Clark, and soon she was. With practiced motion, she positioned herself so that
her cameltoe pressed down on his shaft, and pressed his cock firmly against his
tummy. Then, as she continued to kiss him, she grinded on him gently, the
warmth and dampness within her panties transmitting though the fabric to his
cock, sending the clear message of her arousal, leaving no doubt whatsoever of
her desire and intention.
"God, but you're a sexy
little... thing," Clark said as their lips finally parted.
"Slut," she corrected.
"You meant to say it, so say it." She shrugged, then dipped her head,
shaking her hair down on his chest to tickle him then flipping it back.
"It's true too. I am! And I'm proud of it! Don't be a fraidy-cat
Clark, we're in bed together. Treat me like a woman! "
It was all the permission he
needed. She gasped with pleasure as he grabbed a handful of hair, pulled her
head back, and attacked her chest with his mouth. Clark quickly found out that
while she might not have much actual mass there, the nerve endings were
there in plenty, and she was soon gasping and panting at his licking, sucking,
and biting her nipples and the surrounding tiny mounds.
He could feel the warm wetness
seeping through her panties to soak his cock, and suddenly he had to
sample her. Flipping her over onto her back like a little girl - because she
was one, he knelt between her small, thin legs, and whipped her panties off. An
instant later he was lifting and parting her legs a
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