Schoolgirl Baby

"Emma, pumpkin, you're so far away. I feel like you're on Mars way over there." He leaned back in his chair and rested his chin on his hand. He studied her, trying to read her reaction. But surprisingly, there wasn't much of one, at least not an exterior reaction. Maybe she had been in these situations before and her possible slutiness made his pulse beat faster. "C'mere, baby," he whispered.

She grinned at him with her cute schoolgirl dimples, her hair slightly disheveled from her hours-long nap. Young Emma approached him with an almost catlike stroll, making him wait with impatience for what seemed to be the inevitable.

She sat on the arm of his armchair, her buttocks divided by it. He wrapped his arms around her taut waist and felt pleasure that her tummy was tucked-in and tight without a pouch to dampen its effect. And the effect was great. He attempted to pull her into his lap, but she feigned a struggle, wiggling to get away from his grip. She laughed her high-pitched giggle, and he chuckled in his deep, throaty way.

"Let me go!" she insisted falsely. (She really was a very bad actress, he thought to himself).

"Not until you kiss me, honey," he said, looking upon her fighting figure.

She paused for a minute, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and sat upright once more.

"No," he said with a growl. "You're a grown-up girl now, you should kiss like a grown-up. Let me teach you, baby." He softly held the back of her head and pulled her lips down to his. Their faces lingered for a moment, looking at one another and their lips drew in closer. They kissed passionately and he observed that she did so with great experience and prowess. His cock lurched. Her panties moistened to the point of an obvious aroma that lured him in like the flower petals of a bad girl.

Without breaking the kiss, she slid her soft body into his lap, and they caressed each other with blind passion. His shoulders, she noticed for the first time, were broad and strong. Ever since he rescued her from the sidewalk that afternoon, it was as if she had been seeing him with a new eye. Everything she saw in him was now beautiful.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss and flipped back her long hair behind her shoulder. She licked her bubblegum lips to moisten them, and she leaned down to whisper in his ear, wetly and nearly childlike: "How else can I properly thank you, Mr. Finley?"

Part Four: Little Miss Sweet Mouth

He chuckled. "Oh baby, there are so many things you can do to thank me."

"What would you like?" she whispered.

Their bodies moved as they sat on the armchair together. With her long, tall height, her breasts found themselves parallel with his face and he couldn't help but envelope his nose in the firm, natural cushions that tempted him. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse, and the material spread on either side of her bosom to display the swell of her porcelain breasts and the sight of a white, lace bra that boosted up her tits to greet him with obvious cleavage.

She was a lot of girl. Healthy, strong, curvy, and she really filled up his lap. With his nose nestled in this abundance of adolescence that her boobs offered, he couldn't help but also notice her fragrance, not at all stifled by the heat of the afternoon. She smelled like a confectionary, a factory of sweet chocolates and sugars, all rolled up into this buxom little tart who happened to be sitting on his lap.

His thick index finger caressed her naked thigh, and he looked up into those green eyes that stared down at him in the glow of lovelight. "You know what I would like more than anything in the world?" he groaned, almost looking at her pleadingly. His defenses were now shattered.

She giggled innocently, pretending to be ignorant to his needs. She placed her finger upon her chin and pretended to find herself deep in thought. "Hmm..."

"Please baby," he growled. Her legs were crossed as she sat on him, and he began to rub her little rosebud of a clitoris which was now revealing itself through the thinness of her panties. He played with her, teasingly, and she sighed, her legs falling apart. "Tell you what, my sweet little sunshine, you give me what I need, and I'll give you what you need. As much as you want."

He wondered how the tables had turned so quickly. Normally he was the one who was in charge and in control of sexual situations. This girl, this horny little teenager, was pulling the screws on him, flipping their roles. And he was enjoying every moment of it.

Emma carefully extracted her body from his lap so as not to injure him with her elbows and knees and kneeled before him in a genuflect pose. He was delighted to see that she could translate his request - demand - so easily, and as she fumbled with his belt in the dark of the living room, he reached both of his hands over to the side table that sat next to him and lit a cigarette. The butt ignited to a brief flame, and he sat back, smoking, watching her at work. It was a sight to behold.

He lifted his ass up so that she could remove his pants and boxers and now, there he was, naked below the waist, a masculine offering to this sweet little piece of ass he had so admired from afar.

Charlie's cock stood erect, proud, tempting her into the challenge of sucking on him. In the glow of the blue television light and the contradiction of the dark evening, the head and stem of his largeness shone with the grease of his precum. Emma's tongue, once more, wetted her lips in an obvious urge of appetite and she could resist no longer: tilting her head to the side, her cravings got the better of her, and she began to mouth this big gift that most women hadn't the privilege to lay eyes upon. It presented itself to her almost as a fruit, a forbidden fruit, that need to be suckled till it was exhausted right down to the remaining seed.

Sitting back in his armchair, Charlie's knees spread more to make room for her. He was not at all a shy man, especially in these circumstances, and his arms nearly fell back upon the sturdiness of the furniture, a pose that appeared as almost disbelief. One elbow steadied itself on the arm of the chair, and he puffed his cigarette, looking down at her in her position of complete submission. She seemed to be enjoying her time feasting on him, and her enthusiasm and skill made it obvious that she had sucked cock before, and perhaps many times, to the point where she could've memorized the map of his veins with her tongue, if she felt so inclined.

Emma looked up at him, a thread of precum leaking from the corner of her mouth. She smiled and instinctively brought her arm up to wipe it away, but he held out his hand. "No, baby. You look perfect just like that."

Leaving the thread of precum where it was, it naturally detached, and she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and took him in as deeply as she could. The tip of his dick, thick and wet, was tickling the little bell that hung in the back of her throat, and he let out an involuntary growl, throwing his head back, saying in hushed whispers: "Oh baby, that feels so good." And she licked at the underside with short, clean strokes, nearly making him yelp. "Oh god baby, it makes me crazy when you do that. You drive me crazy, my sweet little baby."

The ashes of the cigarette were building up, as he had forgotten to tap them out into the ashtray. He was so distracted by her and her oral talents that he seemed to forget the stick of fire that he held between his middle and index finger. He then tapped out the ashes and playtime was resumed.

And what a nasty little playmate she was turning out to be. Charlie loved the way she sucked his cock: so attentive, so sweet, as if she wanted nothing more than to please him. "Do you like it?" she whispered between blows, not looking up from her task, her soft head of hair bobbing gently, taking him more deeply with each inward thrust.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart, you know I love it. I can tell you've done this before."

She giggled and her small tinkles of girlish laughter vibrated around the base of his cock. Emma placed her painted fingernails upon his balls that were sagging with heaviness. They were full of semen and all sorts of little gifts he wanted to give her for being such a good girl.

"Your balls are really heavy," she observed as she touched and molested them.

"It's been a while, baby. I've been waiting for your little mouth to serve me." He grinned and took a drag of his cigarette, studying her between the billows of smoke. She was a nasty young woman, he observed, the way she sucked on him without modesty or reservation. He noted that her shy, girl-next-door persona was just a guise, a mask for the tramp she really was. And he loved tramps. Especially ones like her who were young with a tight ass. "Take off your top, baby," he instructed her.

She paused the blowjob to peel the top up over her head, her long hair clinging to the fabric as she did so. But she also went a step further: reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra, and her heavy, youthful tits were freed of their confines. They were round and beautiful, capped with pink, girlish nipples that stood erect in their pleasure. Now, seeing her naked from the waist up, she seemed so much more mature, more adult than he had ever envisioned her in the gutters of his fantasy. Emma was sublime.

Taking his cock deep into her mouth, the tip teased the soft bell hanging at the entrance of her throat, and she took it beyond that: she began to deepthroat him, a thrill he had never before experienced, partly because of his size. But Charlie could feel his big dick slide down her teen throat, never by force, but by a sweet opening that she had made available to him. The confines of her throat were like velvet, a thick, wet velvety layer surrounding him with saliva. And this texture he had never before felt moved up and down his most intimate of body parts, massaging every inch of him at the same time without neglect.

He could hold back no longer and with a sudden thrust of his hips and an, "Oh!" escaping from his mouth, he ejaculated down into her throat, slipping down into the scarlet confines of her esophagus and then down to her taut tummy which was ready for his gift. She swallowed and gulped with increasing enthusiasm, happy that he had orgasmed into her body - a place to deposit his most special of fluids.

Lifting her head off his cock, she massaged her neck with the softness of her hand; she was not used to men of his size, and her throat was now a bit tender. He really had given every spare inch of himself, and she smiled good-naturedly at his horndog ways.

Charlie smooshed out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him and his heavy breathing began to return to its normal rhythm. "Sweetheart," he whispered to her. "You are so good."

She smiled sweetly. "Thanks. You were a lot to take. The biggest I ever came across."

He leaned down and inspected her neck. "Are you alright, darling? Did I injure you?"

She shook her head. "No, it felt good."

"Oh, my sweet girl," he growled giving her a kiss on the cheek. "You're such a sexy little plaything for me, aren't you? Now get that little ass of yours into the bedroom - I'm not done with you yet."

Per his demand, she skipped off down the hallway to the bedroom, her full breasts jiggling in their free and easy manner, free to the air, and free for his eyes. He watched her small body retreat into the bedroom and close the door behind her.

Part Five: Piece of Paradise

Emma lied on the bed in Charlie's room, alone with one lamplight on. She had undressed and lie there naked, an obscene, barely legal flower ready to be plucked whenever he felt the moment was right. And when that time came, and he plucked her from obscurity amongst the other daisies in the field, she would feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

He walked into the bedroom and was slightly taken aback by her bold nakedness, though he himself had taken his shirt off in the living room and was now completely nude as well. He had shut the TV off, took the last swig of whiskey in his glass, gone to the bathroom, and returned to his most precious of girls. He sat on the side of the bed, the two of them more alike now in their twin and luscious nakedness.

"How are we feeling, baby?" he asked her.

She stretched her arms up over her head in order to raise her breasts and arch her back. She reminded him slightly of a naughty pin-up girl, and he chuckled when she simply nodded. Yes, he was feeling the same way.

Her legs were beautiful: long and slim. He couldn't help but touch them. They were so soft, so feminine. Charlie stroked her skin and leaned in to begin kissing her neck, whispering those sweet nothings in her ear that women so longed to hear, but, in his history of conquests, were actually true at the moment.

"You know, sunshine, I think you have the sexiest legs I've ever seen," he whispered as the movement of their naked bodies created a blurred, erotic collage of skin and molestations.

"You think so?" she added with a twinkle in her voice.

"Oh, I do, baby. I really do."

His fingers crept up to her most private of spots, and he was surprised to find that, en route, her thighs were dampened by her desire. Like most men, an erection could not be acquired for a while yet, but this caused a flurry of butterflies in his stomach to know that he was found this exciting by a sweet and sexy high school girl.

He gently withdrew himself from her orbit and he kneeled at the foot of the bed, dragging her body to him with his iron grip upon her knobby little knees. The older man wanted to feast upon her pussy.

Now, with her legs spread boldly before him, he marveled in her shaved and pink youthfulness. It was so pretty, like a peach. The juices of her desire could be both seen and felt, and the aroma could be detected. The small little rosebud of her clitoris peeked out shyly from its home and he kissed her most intimately with gentle dabs of his lips. Her pussy did not retract or freeze, as was sometimes the case, but it only seemed to dilate more, to welcome his touch more. No sane man could pass up the offer she was making to him, and, as he mouthed her sweet pussy, he slipped a finger into her little lovehole that was making itself so easily available to him.

She was so wet. Little Emma was possibly the wettest, horniest girl he had ever come across. Above him, lying on the bed, she had propped her upper body up on her elbows and was watching his handsome face in between her thighs, expertly pleasing her and simultaneously pleasing himself at the same time, for he loved pussy, especially tight, young pussies like hers that seemed so sweet and ripe for the picking.

He fondled her little asshole with the pad of his thumb, careful and reserved, then, again nestled his face into her gash after a quick intake of breath. It was a scarlet gash, aflame with desire and a bold insistence on male attention. Her pussy juices stained his face, and she held back a giggle, as it almost looked as if he were wearing a shiny beard.

Charlie, in all his years of steady confidence and unwavering decisiveness, in this moment, could not decide what he wanted to focus on. He loved the way her rosebud peeked out to greet him, so he suckled that for a moment. But he also loved how wet her pussyhole was, dripping with honey and sugar of promises to come. So he fingered her with first one, then two fingers, dipping his tongue into her natural lake and coming to find that there was, in fact, one more thing that could make his decision of concentration more difficult: a sweet asshole that puckered itself, beckoning him for play. In the end, he could not decide what to focus on and so, with all poetics aside, he made a glutton of himself by feasting, kissing, molesting, fingering, mouthing, nestling, and nudging all her most private and precious parts that were hidden from the common man. And in that instant, he was not the common man. He was crazed.

He had made a mess of her pussy with his piggish ways, and they both moaned in simultaneous pleasure when she creamed twice from her pussy and squirted once upon his waiting face from the area of her clitoris. To be drenched in her pleasures was a validation and violation that Charlie wasn't aware that he needed or even wanted. But their satisfaction was double, and Emma lied back upon the bed, her breasts heaving from exertion, and Charlie reveling in the lovely filthiness of her lovelight upon his face.

She, too, had wiggled in a frenzy that even Charlie had not before witnessed; it was almost like a sweet nymphet was trying to make her way out of her soul as he served and beckoned her to cum for him. And she did, thrice, almost like a madwoman trying to escape from the corridors of an asylum, but their craziness was the asylum of sex and pleasure.

The moment had arrived for Charlie to make her his. With a look of certainty, he crawled from the floor upon the soft bed. The mattress gave in to the pressure of his weight as, knee by knee, he eased towards her, his body nude, a faint, crooked smile upon his face giving hint to the fucking that was due for both of them. Emma looked up at him, her upper body propped up, struggling to reach him for a kiss of filth. He could not resist her quiet plea and he kissed her, angling his face, his hand placed upon her firm, round breasts, brushing her arched, sweet nipples that were standing for his touch.

He kneeled between her open thighs; they were open like a warm invitation. He stroked his cock up and down, his eyes rolling back in his head and groaning.

Emma whispered to him in the dampness of the room, "Fuck me, Charlie. I want your big dick inside me."

"You do have a little bit of sugar to offer me, don't you baby?" he teased, his piece of meat dripping in a grin of drops.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Yes," she breathed. "I'm so wet, Charlie. Split my little insides with your cock. Do you like my sweet little pussy?" she asked fawningly, circling her legs around his paunchy waist, posing coquettishly for him with a crook of her head.

"Oh god, baby, you know I do. But please baby," he said, quietly kissing her neck, his nose tickled by her thick bunches of dark hair. "You know how to address me. Say it."

"Mr. Finley." She paused. "Sir."

At her polite and obedient request, he pressed the tip of his cock into her little waiting hole and pushed forward gently. Almost immediately, the lips of her sweetness opened themselves up to him as if they had been waiting for his intrusion. Her lips enveloped themselves around his big and swollen dick, blowing him the way her mouth had done not so long ago. Even if it went no further, he had already experienced a schoolgirl heaven.

Inch by inch he sunk himself inside, feeling her insides accommodate his leaking manliness, the thing he had jerked off so many times in fantasies of her. Now he was inside her and he nearly lost all his willpower right then. And Emma, for her part, she saw the grimace, the lustful grimace, of a man who was about to lose all his control into the little piece of paradise she offered to him. And he held back and struggled to hold himself in with a grunt; he succeeded, as he did with most things. Now inside her totally, he quickened the speed of his hips, reasserting his power as a male, putting back in place the fact that he was in charge and that she, at that moment, could not make him crumble any longer.

The central air conditioning that pumped through the vents of each room tapped out a dysfunctional, tiny squink, the only bit of noise in the room aside from Charlie's grunt on every inward thrust and the slapping of their raw, naked bodies colliding in the most natural of ballads. All these sounds came together to create a vulgar song that only the two of them would know, the rhythm foreign to all other ears except theirs. Emma opened her thighs wider, and he banged every bit of good sense out of her.