Self Knowledge

First story. Feedback is welcome, but be gentle.

There is no actual sex in the traditional sense in this first chapter, unless you count masturbation -- but I think it's actually somehow hotter for it.

You be the judge ;)

Disclaimer for the thinking-impaired -- this is *fantasy*. Everyone in it is fictional and is of legal age (18 or over). None of the things you read here should be repeated by anyone sane, unless they're part of a role-play with another sane, consenting adult and safe words agreed beforehand.

Prologue

So look: right off the bat, I want to say none of this is my fault.

If we'd spoken 6 months ago and you'd asked me "Hey, Marie -- did you think you'd be doing this as a teenage girl? And with... him...?!"

I would have scoffed at you and said "no, and hell no".

In that order.

But sometimes life, the stars, fate, or whatever you want to call it has a way of putting you right into a tight spot that you never wanted to be in. And in that tight spot, you might learn things about yourself that would surprise you.

Things like; what you actually want.

What you'd be willing to sacrifice.

What you're capable of.

And if you're super unlucky, fate will choose something (or *someone*) for you to want that will stretch the limits of what you'd be willing to do or lose to keep it, or them.

'Stretch' is actually the right word here, in more sense than one. We'll come back to that.

Anyway, to make this real instead of hypothetical:

What you're about to read is the story of what *I* found myself wanting, what *I* sacrificed, and what *I* found myself capable of. It's a story of natural teenage curiosity, some questionable choices, a little bit of spiralling, and some of the aforementioned learning-about-myself.

It's just that a lot of the learning in particular lately seems to be happening when I'm on my knees in front of him, doing things (eagerly!) that a girl my age just shouldn't want to be doing.

And yet...

Each time I find myself there, driven by some irresistible compulsion I don't understand, I relearn how little of a choice I have in all of this. I have to return to my place kneeling in front of him, to show him what a fast learner I am, and what a good girl I can be. To impress him with what I can do, to worship him (or parts of him) the way nature, genetics and youthfulness have equipped me for. To receive his 'gift' on (and inside) my body, to taste it, and to know from the look on his ugly old face when I look up at him; that all of these things I'm doing please him like no other can. Yeah, from his reputation he's apparently known scores of pretty young things this way, but all that matters is I'm the one making him feel incredible in this particular moment.

And yes, there's definitely a competitive element to it. He kindles that in me, and in a lot of other girls too I've come to learn.

So sue me.

And and, once again, for the record; none of this is my fault.

It's my libido sir.

Chapter 1

So the name's Mari, hi. The name... is Estonian, where my parents come from originally. It's pronounced 'MAH-ree' technically, but I do get 'Marie' mostly. So I just answer to Marie.

I'm still at school as a senior -- I'm a good student, nothing special. I'm headed to college probably, but haven't settled on where yet. I'm active in gymnastics, and that keeps me healthy and flexible. My parents are very active in the community, they try very hard to be accepted and blend into their new national identity so they often do charity work on top of their jobs.

This whole sorry saga began at one of their big ideas, a yard sale. They got everyone in the neighbourhood to bring their junk to our garden and hawk it for money to contribute to Médecins Sans Frontières. I had to be there, of course -- they had me moving boxes, organizing things, collecting money... I've learned that it's easier just to do it than to argue with them. One day it will sink in that they made it here as citizens and they don't have to try so hard now, but until then I'm pulled into every bit of good work.

I'd rather have been anywhere than there with our boring middle-aged neighbours talking small about trivial stuff, but I'd found a way to keep it at least mildly interesting during these events.

I'd put on a particular outfit, what I think of as either the 'my how you've grown' outfit or less subtly, the 'inappropriate old-guy erection maker'.

A tight white t-shirt (thin weave) that make my breasts look like big soft rounded pillows, with a smooth black plunge bra (outline very visible through the t-shirt, of the bra and my tits).

Bright-pink All Star low tops, with white ankle sport socks -- and a sexy little anklet to draw attention to my smooth, bare legs.

Tight dark blue jean-shorts.

And white thong panties, outline also visible through the shorts and the bands just peeking up over the shorts at my smooth hips

I put my auburn hair up into two braided pigtails down to below shoulder length and put on some shiny pink lip gloss to complete the look.

I looked at myself in the mirror, running my hands over my tits and over my bare, flat stomach, biting my lip in practice for my (undeclared) role at this event as the young ingenue all the dads will be whacking off over in the shower later.

Most girls my age have grown out of dressing in this teenie-bopper look by now, but my old stuff still fits (just) and it's nice to use it for a little naughty thrill while I can still fit my increasingly voluptuous body into it.

I spent most of that evening finding ways to stretch, lean, or bend over that revealed or highlighted my hot little body for the men present, absolutely revelling in their poorly-concealed lechery. Meanwhile I kept up my innocent facade, getting a little secret thrill from so much male attention. It was always such a fun game -- I'd see which part of my body I could get them to stare at. My smooth legs, propped up on a table; my breasts, pushed out while I arch my back stretching, my wide flared hips, my underwear or just my rounded little tushy by bending over to pick something up.

By the end of the evening I was actually having a blast.

When it was wrapping up, that was when I first met him... the old geezer who would very shortly be a big part of my life, and in my 'extracurricular education'. I was walking through the narrow corridor connecting our kitchen to the den, on my way to the basement putting away the stuff that didn't sell.

I was on my way out again to get another box, head down in my phone, and ploughed straight into his bulk filling the narrow hallway.

He pretty much fit the description of 'fat old creep' -- not hugely obese, but a noticeable paunch. Late sixties. Short hair, receded at the sides and crown. Grizzled, uneven stubble -- like he'd made an effort to shave but not enough of one. Slightly stale smell. For all that, quite tall at about 6 foot (to my 5'3"). He made quite the impression, and since I'd just walked into him he'd left one physically too it felt like. I'd soon be left with plenty more physical impressions from him...

I let out a dainty "Ooof" as I collided with him, and I watched my expensive phone drop to the floor behind him in the hallway, making a loud clattering on the wood flooring. He let out a grunt but didn't move much -- he weighed about five of me, plus change.

What happened next... you have to understand it was all very sudden. I'd been teasing the men at this event with my freshly developed body pushed into clothes a couple sizes too small, and I was worked up with a lot of sexual tension. I could feel my little panties had some slick moisture from my pussy on them. I was very much looking forward to stripping off, getting into bed, and working my clit to an intense creamy orgasm thinking about it. Also, I was actually doing a lot of physical labor, moving stuff for the sale, and going up and down the basement stairs had me breathing heavily and my silky young skin had a slight glowing sheen of sweat to it.

I was tired, zoned-out, and horny as hell. It was literally the worst time for what happened next to happen.

As we collided I lost my balance a bit -- I probably wouldn't have fallen, but the old lecher definitely saw his opportunity and one hand went out to grab my arm with surprising speed and pulled me into him. With my body pressed up tight against his, his right hand shot out to 'steady' me by grabbing an ample handful of my tush. He leaned his upper body forward, pressing against me, and let his hand holding my arm drop to rest on the back of one of my thighs -- I wasn't really falling backward, so his leaning forward to 'catch' me wasn't really needed. But it gave him an excuse for putting his gross hands all over me.

Both hands squeezed and bit into my soft, yielding flesh -- the hand on my thigh felt rough and calloused against the silkiness of my legs. Shocked and blindsided by being so suddenly grabbed and touched, I looked up from my phone on the floor into his weathered face for the first time, eyes locked onto mine intensely. My breath caught, I gasped and let out a little "Ooo, mmph" in reaction to his lewd groping. I kept looked up at him wide-eyed, conscious and scared that I'm suddenly the focus for this slob's libidinous attention.

My arms were trapped between us, one (the phone hand) bent at the elbow and pressed uselessly against his chest. The other was at my side when we collided and was now pushed and trapped straight down against his considerable belly. I couldn't swat him away or hold him off with my arms pinned between us.

His hands were definitely free though, and travelling -- the one on my rump moved to my other cheek, the one on my thigh seemed to explore my smooth dewy legs extensively, fascinated by their feel. Both of them were still squeezing and kneading me relentlessly. All the while he was pulling my whole body tight in against his bulk, robbing me of any leverage I might've had with my arms. I can feel him grow more and more excited by the second, his breathing laboured and heavier as he feels me up.

Geez, this old creep was really milking the show of 'steadying' me for all it was worth.

He wasn't finished with me yet. Somehow still managing to pretend I was 'falling' he steadied his grip by moving both hands upwards -- the hand squeezing my tushy shot up and got caught under my t-shirt at the side, sliding over my smooth warm flank where my slender waist curves out to my wide hips. The hand down exploring my legs shot up to my shorts waistband at the small of my back, and unbelievably down again *into* my shorts over my thong to cup and squeeze obscenely at my other pillowy asscheek, this time with nothing between his calloused hands and my bare smooth skin.

"Aaaah!" I cry out weakly -- the sexual tension I'd brought with me to this situation from my antics earlier was not helping, and my young body shuddered at it's first carnal touch that wasn't self-administered, from a man who looked to be a couple of decades older than my own father!

I was still in total shock and couldn't get a word out.

"Sorry miss, are you ok?" he said with a straight face somehow, hands still going everywhere. His tone was flat and unconvincing, but his facial expression, the way he looked at me... it was pure, animalistic hunger. And it was focused very much on me.

Finally finding my tongue, I speak but only to stammer softly and breathlessly, still looking up at him: "I... I...."

"You almost took a rough tumble there young lady. You ought to be more careful." He was grinning now, his eyes wandering freely over me after straightening us both fully upright. He was still holding me tight against him, but he was now craning his neck over the top of my head and shoulder to give me a long top-to-toe with his eyes, his ravenous gaze particularly lingering on my smooth bare legs and round bubble butt accentuated by the tight shorts and visible thong straps. His breath fell hot on my neck as he loomed over me, taking his time appreciating the visual provided by my tight derrière and legs. He clearly approved of having sight of the parts of me he had been sinking his fingers into. The other men at the event I caught staring in my peripheral vision -- they always looked away if they thought they were caught. This fat old pervert just shamelessly roamed over my body with his eyes and hands with utter confidence, and made no apologies for it.

"Oh..." I said, finding the power of sentences within me once more: "yeah, I guess. Is there... something you were... looking for?" I said shakily. Whatever he had come into the house looking for clearly wasn't a priority now that he had his hands all over me -- hands which still weren't going anywhere other than to other bits of my body, I noticed. Even with the slight risk of me falling now passed. We were still pressed tight together, his rough hands still groping as much of my flesh as he could hold. No-one watching this scene would be remotely convinced that he was helping me from falling at this point.

"I just came into the kitchen for some water. It's through there right?" He nodded in the direction of the kitchen, rather than pointing -- keeping his hands free, the better for him to continue his free-for-all on my teenaged body for as long as the flimsy pretence allowed.

"Y... yeah... I need to get back to the yard, sorry for... sorry".

I'm apologizing to my assaulter like an idiot.

I make to move around him, but I realize too late that the narrow corridor and his size make that an even bigger opportunity for this handsy creep to get his jollies from groping me. I should've gone out and around the back -- but I was exhausted and shocked from what had just happened. I wasn't thinking straight.

"Ok, sure; you just squeeze past there missy" -- he moved side-on so his back was against the wall, but his size and belly still made it a tight fit to get past. I hesitated, considering options that wouldn't involve me sliding my boobs or butt against him as I passed the narrow space I had. Before I could backtrack, the hand he had still inside my shorts squeezed my tender buttcheek again one last time, only much harder, his fingers sinking deep into my abundant soft tushy flesh. One of his digits brushed against my sensitive butthole, barely shielded from his perverted touch by the thin strip of my thong panties.

"Aaaah!" I cried again a couple of octaves higher pitched this time, instinctively bringing my legs together straight, and going up onto my tippy toes to escape the rough digit creeping close to the bud of my anus. But he seemed to catch himself, realizing that plundering a coed's virgin asshole with his unlubricated finger without consent would be stretching his already flimsy pretext past breaking point. He immediately released my abused cheek, moving the hand up to my hip again and pivoted me around. I meekly complied as he shepherded me around him into the tight space between him and the wall opposite, all thoughts of taking another route gone, just relieved at least that no parts of this disgusting old man was currently threatening to penetrate me.

My legs were shaking at this point from the exertion earlier and now my body's reaction to the unwanted abuse it had just received. My left foot caught on his right as he turned me, destroying my balance. I genuinely tripped this time and managed to place my foot out in front of me in time to stop myself headbutting the wall - but I'd ended up in something like a shallow front-split between him and the wall as a result, with my palms against the wall to stop me toppling forward.

The creep lost no time in taking a step forward to 'help' me once again, pushing me upright by pressing hot and heavy close against my back. My effort to escape had only resulted in my lithe young body now being spooned by this loathsome old pest, with his hot breath on the side of my neck again giving my goosebumps. He wasted no time finding new hand holds on me, this time reaching around my hips to settle his grubby mitts on the outside of my fine pale thighs, now pulled together after him pushing me upright from my impromptu deep lunge: he seemed very taken with my legs. Caressing their smooth tautness, he seemed to change his mind and curved his hand round the front to try and feel for the warmth of my inner thighs - I reflexively tried to keep them shut tight together to stymie him. But he was persistent and wormed his hands in to cop a good feel of the tender flesh -- eliciting a squeal from me from the renewed sensations of his abrasive hands on one of my most sensitive spots.

With his bulk pressed up into me from behind, his paunch pushes into the small of my back making me arch lewdly. Even worse, that means my haunches were now squeezed in tight against his crotch -- I'm suddenly very aware of there being nothing but a few layers of thin stretched fabric between his old cock and winning an award for 'Worst Lost Virginity Story' at a future Bachelorette party. I stop resisting his hands and let him grope the inside of my thighs, fearing the motion of my obstructing him would increase the friction between my rump and his groin. If he didn't already have an erection, I didn't want to give him one - along with any ideas about where to put it...

As if reading my mind he pushes forward into me while his hands hooked my inner thighs and simultaneously pulled me back against him -- basically dry humping me with little shallow movements.

That was my first encounter with his penis, pressed into me from behind through our clothing -- and geez, it felt enormous. Like a wind sock filled with hot play-doh -- long, girthy, firm, and radiating strong heat even past the fabric separating us. Even semi-erect and hanging straight down, it feels as if it's wedged firmly between my buttcheeks through the fabric of my shorts and his trousers. I start to tremble slightly, suddenly feeling very woozy and weak in the knees.

Of course his hands were still roaming, finding new places to explore to stop me from 'slipping' -- this feisty aged pervert seriously couldn't get enough of me! His right was now placed splay-fingered over my soft, exposed belly, and the other was cupping tight around my left breast, callously mauling my soft flesh through the thin material of the t-shirt and bra.. At least that hand hadn't found it's way under them -- small mercy. But that didn't stop the insatiable coot from kneading my tit like it was dough.

The worst was still to come.

With my legs together I was a bit unstable -- and with his bulk weighing down on my arched back, I slid a little to one side. I regained footing easily enough, but the creep was never one to turn down an opportunity to creep it up over me under the guise of lending a hand.

"Oh, careful there honey. Here, let me help you." More dissonance between the words and his tone -- the former expressing helpfulness, but the latter having a threatening, arrogant register to it. I think he got a kick out of the contrast between his kind words and the menace he actually implied with how he said them, and sensing the confused trepidation he was causing by it. Not only did I find myself doubting his 'help' would be helpful, I wondered what fresh degradation it would involve, and started trembling in his grip in expectation.

I didn't have to wait long for the answer.

The geezer pulled his left hand down from fondling and squeezing my breast down to firmly grasp my bare hip, ostensibly to support me but also conveniently blocking me from pushing past him and escaping his vile attention in the direction of the yard. Whatever he was planning, it was clear he didn't want me moving for it, other than to squirm.

His other hand on my belly slid down brazenly into my jean shorts at the front, pressing in against my soft stomach and tickled me. But it didn't stop there, and worked it's way into my little panties, coming to a stop with his uneven digits gently brushing my swollen bare pink pussy and clit.