"Little Maureen_s Family Pleasures" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ryder Virginia K. G.)

CHAPTER 5

When Tim and I reached the tennis courts in the park that morning, we discovered every court was taken, with more players sitting around waiting to play next. It would be a long wait.

“We should have gotten here earlier, I guess,” he told me, shaking his head. “Sorry, Maureen, I didn't realize it'd be so busy.”

“It's okay,” I said, then smiled. “Let's go over to our picnic table.”

He gave me a look when I mentionedourpicnic table, knowing what I was suggesting.

The park had many picnic tables scattered throughout its grounds, with several of them fairly private in wooded areas. This was especially true of the picnic setting we'd discovered two evenings earlier, roaming around, just talking and getting to know each other.

It was a small clearing, mostly hidden from view by trees and high bushes, with a wide, rough-hewn picnic table painted dark green. Next to it was a cement and iron-grated barbeque pit.

“All right,” he agreed, nodding. “Maybe the courts will open up a little later.”

“Exactly.”

As we headed over to the table, I took his hand, a bold move for a normal little 11-year-old girl, but not for me. The two of us were silent as we neared it and I was glad to see no one was using it. Tim was clearly nervous, even though this wasn't the first time we'd held hands.

And, of course, we'd already had our hands in each other's pants.

When we'd found the picnic table two evenings earlier, I'd taken Tim's hand then, too, and led him into the partially hidden clearing. He swallowed hard, but then gently tightened his hand on mine, thrilled-I'm certain-that I'd made the first move.

“This looks like a nice spot,” I said.

It was a place I knew very well, actually. But I acted as if we'd discovered it together, Tim and I. A romantic little setting. It was perfect for a couple of elementary school kids not certain what to do next, but with both of us liking the idea of some privacy to explore our options.

We'd known each other for almost two weeks, having met at the Greenbriar Mall's food court one happy afternoon, but we hadn't touched each other. Not even once in our many times together.

Not even 'accidentally,' if you know what I mean. Which I was usually pretty good at orchestrating.

“Let's sit in here awhile,” I'd smiled up at him, taking him right to the table. “It's more private.”

He nodded, but he obviously wasn't certain where this was heading. Boy-girl wise, that is. And it clearly made him nervous, though at the same time he seemed excited at the prospect of being alone with me.

“I can't stay out too late,” he said with an apologetic little shrug. “It'll be dark soon and my parents-”

I climbed up and sat on the table top, pulling him with me, so that we ended up next to each other. We were still holding hands, with our feet on the rough wooden bench seat below. He was in jeans and a pullover shirt and I was in my usual shorts and tee-shirt and sandals.

I kept my small purse at my side.

“We can just sit here a little while,” I suggested, innocently. And then, I turned to him and asked, “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

To which he awkwardly looked away.

“We played 'spin the bottle' at a party last month,” he admitted. “And they put me in the closet with Janey Whitlock, a girl in my 6th grade class. We kissed in the dark a few times. But when they opened the door, she told everybody I wasn't any good at it.”

I had to laugh.

“She said that?” I asked him. “What a little bitch!”

Tim just shrugged again, clearly uncomfortable with the memory. It even looked to me like he might be blushing.

“It was really embarrassing,” he admitted. “Later, Janey told me she only said it so the other girls wouldn't want to kiss me. And she wanted me to kiss her again. But I wouldn't do it.”

I had to shake my head.

So this was the kind of romantic adventures going on a year ahead of me, with public school kids-preteen girls already using their feminine wiles to protect what they wanted, namely boys, from other girls.

Girls like me.

“Do you want to kiss me?” I asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. “We can find a bottle and spin it, if you want…”

The tall gawky boy next to me shrugged at the suggestion, but then clumsily leaned into me. I puckered up and he closed his eyes and pressed his warm lips against mine, giving me a quick smack and then pulling away.

He opened his big brown eyes and looked to me expectantly.

God, I thought, he was such a good-looking boy! That Janey girl was an idiot, not to justgo for itwhen she had the opportunity with him in the closet.

I'd have locked the door and kept him in there, party or no party.

“That was fun,” I assured him about the kiss, smiling encouragement and giving his hand another quick squeeze. “Let's do it again.”

So Tim leaned forward and kissed me again. And again. And still again.

Until I put my free hand lightly on his smooth face and kept him there, his soft lips pressed against mine. When I opened my mouth slightly and darted the tip of my tongue against his lips, he responded in kind, his tongue cautiously slipping into my mouth to find my own.

The two of us, at last, were making out.

“You're such a great kisser!” he exclaimed, when he finally pulled back. “You must have a lot of experience…”

But he didn't say it as if accusing me of anything. It was rather as if he was terrifically impressed. I smiled to him, knowing my blue eyes were shining with the pure attraction I felt for him.

“I've been kissed a few times before,” I admitted. “I guess boys like me. But I like kissing you the best, so far.”

And I meant it.

Of course, I'd already made out with many boys and girls, before, during and after sex, but I wasn't about to admit that to him. Ever. Some of it had even taken place on the very picnic table we were using.

At the beginning of summer, for instance, my father brought me down to the park late one night with several young boys from the club. And they'd taken turns on me. Fucking me. It was like a field trip, he'd said, which every one of their parents (all members, all who were with my mom that night, fuckingher!) approved.

He'd first put a blanket on the picnic table itself, but then finally moved it down onto the grass, where it was much easier on my back. Or my skinny knees, doing it doggy-style.

Then he and the boys all fucked me hard for over two hours. I'd also sucked every one of their young-boy cocks, of course, another fun activity for me. I'm absolutely addicted to dick, especially using my mouth.

My dad liked to fuck me first, 'heating up' my pussy, he said, and then again after all the boys were finished.

By then, with all of them taking two or three turns on me, the very young having that ability, my slippery little pink slit was so filled with their warm semen it splooshed wetly out of me with every stroke of my father's cock pumping into me.

It was messy but great fun for both of us.

And I always came my brains out on those nights, my gangbang nights, wanting every moment of pulsating pleasure I could get. All that non-stop fucking just made me want more. I'd also swallowed a lot of hot cum, like I said, sucking every single cock before we were through.

I'd even taken several boy's dicks straight into my puckered but eager little asshole. My dad always brought along plenty of that flavored lube.

And yet, with all the sexual experience I'd had at my young age, I found Tim to be the boy I most wanted to spend my time with. There was something about him I couldn't actually define, that made me want to be with him as much as possible.

“Really?” he asked, seeming not to believe it. “You like kissing me the best?”

I gave him a look.

“What's wrong with that?” I asked. “You're cute and smart and sweet and everything else a girl could want. I'd be your girlfriend in a minute. If I was, you could do more than kiss me.”

That sort of put the brakes on. He froze up, then looked into my eyes.

“Likewhatmore?” he wanted to know.

He was smiling, but seemed to be growing more tense by the moment. I think he was afraid of getting in too far over his head. “Have you already done more than kiss?” he asked.

I held onto his hand, then finally nodded.

“I've already had a boyfriend,” I told him, true enough. “An older boy. Because we were going steady, I let him do some stuff.” I gave him a worried little look. “Not like all the way, just some…stuff.”

I could tell my confession bothered him slightly.

But it also had him thinking we could do some stuff, too, he and I. If I was his girlfriend. But when he looked back to me, I suddenly shook my head and abruptly turned away from him.

“I don't want to talk about it,” I said, not looking at him. “I shouldn't have said anything. I don't think I'm ready to do anything like that again. Anyway, I'm sorry I told you…”

We sat silently for several long, awkward moments, my back turned to him, until he finally said, “I didn't mean to upset you, Maureen. I like you a lot. And I'd love for you to be my girlfriend.”

I turned back to him, almost shyly, smiling slowly.

“Okay,” I nodded, then gave him another of my little shrugs. “But let's not do that other stuff yet. I'm not really ready for it, so soon.”

Tim nodded happily, glad to merely be getting along with me again. Boys or men. They're always so easy.

“But can we kiss some more?” he wanted to know. “Just kissing.”

“Sure.”

And so, sitting side-by-side on the picnic table two evenings ago as it grew steadily darker, we again began kissing. But this time it was as boyfriend and girlfriend, a time-honored commitment to romance that meant a little more was expected.

Sexually.

Tim was a fast learner, and I was an excellent teacher (I'd been told!), so before too long we were French kissing like we'd been doing it all our lives. And breathing so hard we were both shaky.

I could feel my heart pounding away in my thin chest and I knew his was doing exactly the same thing.

The rough top of the picnic table had grown hard against my skinny little butt, though, and then just as hard along my side when I lay back and pulled him down next to me. We kept kissing, slow wet kisses that had us both panting, the awkwardness of our position on the table virtually unnoticed in our excitement at being together.

But soon enough, I suggested, “Let's get down on the grass. It'll be softer.”

Tim needed no further prodding.

It was nearly dark by then, the bright full moon already overhead and providing all the light we needed. Without really disengaging, we slid off the table down onto the grass and kept at each other.

It was soft and sexy and somehow natural. It was also obvious the park was nearly deserted.

“You're getting me all excited,” I admitted to him, continuing to kiss him so hotly I knew he was as aroused as I was. “You know, between my legs.”

“Really?” he breathed back to me. “I'm all excited, too.”

And as if I'd never even considered such a thing before meeting him, I slid one slim bare leg over one of his and tightened myself to him, pressing my crotch into his denim-covered thigh as if I was humping it.

Kissing him fervently still, I was starting to grind against him, making little moaning sounds as I did so.

“You've got me so hot!” I panted. “I've never felt this…turned on.”

And I took his hand in mine and guided it down the back of my shorts, under my panties, his fingers easily finding my bare little 5th-grader's ass and squeezing it. I jerked with another little moan at the sensation of his warm hand, finally, in my pants, then squirmed against him as if I was already having an orgasm.

“I love your hand on my bare butt,” I breathed hotly to him, my lips still touching his. “Keep squeezing it like that…”

“Oh God, this is so great,” he said shakily. “I can't believe we're doing this.”

As if I'd just thought of it, I gave him a nervous little giggle and unsnapped his jeans, a moment later finding his zipper easily enough. I tugged it slowly down, my mouth against his, my tongue still working fervidly against his own.

He jerked slightly as he realized what I was doing, but then put up no argument as I slid my small hand into the front of his jeans and squeezed his throbbingly-hard cock through his underwear.

“Oh, Maureen!” he swallowed, kissing me even more ardently. “That feels unbelievably good!”

“I'll bet,” I told him somewhat breathlessly. And then, “I'm only doing this because you're my boyfriend.”

“I know.”

Our lips stayed together, kissing and sucking at each other, as I fished out his rigid cock and started jacking him off. He moaned again, low in his throat, his cock exactly what I'd expected from a 12-year-old boy.

It was slender and not all that long, but it was so stiff it was throbbing uncontrollably under my fingers. I worked it out into the moonlight, wanting to see it, and wanting to see it even closer when he ejaculated.

I loved watching a guy's cum shoot out.

I also wondered if I should go as far as putting it in my mouth, his dick, but then decided that'd be too much for a first time.

“Is this okay, Tim?” I asked him shakily, my hand moving up and down. “Am I doing it right?”

“It's great!” he managed, his hand still in the back of my shorts, gripping my small rubbery-firm ass tightly. “You're doing it just right…”

“Do you want to touch me?” I murmured, hesitantly. “You know, in front…?”

He pulled away from me then, looking into my eyes. And then nodded.

We ended up facing each other, lying on our sides in the grass under the full moon, my hand still tightly holding his stiff young dick, my shorts and panties down around one ankle as he explored my sweet cunt with eager fingers.

I had one knee cocked up so he could better get at me. With my knee up like that, it made my pussy slightly more open.

“You're so wet in there,” he said, his fingers probing deeply into me. “And so hot and slippery.”

“I love your fingers in my pussy,” I told him, my crotch alive with sensation. “Do you want to make me come?”

That again stopped him.

He was unsure, I was certain, how he might do it.

“Let me show you,” I whispered hoarsely to him. “I'll make you come and you make me come. Okay?”

He didn't have to be talked into it.

I let go of his slender dick long enough to guide his slickened fingers to my clit, then showed him how to massage it, using just two fingers, to give me all the pleasure I needed to have an orgasm.

“Just do it like this,” I instructed him. “Right at the top. You can stick your fingers inside me again after you make me come.”

“Okay.”

Then I went back to jacking him off.

“This is unreal!” he laughed, the two of us masturbating each other. “Maureen, I'm already going to come! Uhhh, man, here it comes!”

And his 12-year-old cock jerked under my fingers, twitching, the sudden rush of his cum surprising me with the amount that spurted out. The first long stream of it covered my slender wrist and became the start of a shiny puddle on the ground between us.

“Don't stop, please!” he begged me. “Oh, Maureen, it's so great!”

I kept jacking him off, my hand a sudden blur (the way I knew boys liked it), and the river of his semen jetted out in several erratic spurts before finally ebbing to a little sticky drop hanging from the tiny slit in the head of his dick.

I wanted to take his cock into my mouth, to suck even the last drops of his cum from him, but I knew better than to overplay my hand.

“Okay,” he finally gasped, “That's enough.”

I let go of his cock then, but put my other small hand over his, the one he still had between my legs. I was still lying with one knee up, giving him open access to my young cunt.

I began moving his hand on my clit, pressing his fingertips into it.

“Let me help,” I said to him.

He nodded enthusiastically, then let me masturbate myself using his slippery fingers, pressing them into and back and forth on my quivering clit until I was far shakier all over and breathing so hard I was gasping.

“Yes, Tim, yes!” I panted, pushing my crotch out at him. “I'm almost there. Kiss me when I start to come…”

And my orgasm burst within my little 11-year-old pussy while my new boyfriend's fingers manipulated my throbbing clit. The sudden pleasure coursing through me was so intense I was almost seeing stars.

And not the ones overhead.

“I'm coming!” I announced, and Tim suddenly pressed his mouth to mine. “God, I'm coming so much! Fingerfuck me and kiss me, kissme!”

And, our mouths hungrily glued to each other, we squirmed together as one after another rippling wave of indecent pleasure tore through the very center of me. My pussy was alive with shuddering spasms that nearly knocked me out.

“I'm coming,” I kept gasping. “Ohhh God, it feels sogood, so damn good! I love it, it's like my pussy's on fire.

And Tim stayed right with me, squeezing my entire crotch with his hand, his fingers slipping into my cunt even as he managed to stay right at my clit. I groaned directly into his mouth, squirming like a little live wire next to him, before I was at last sagging into the grass.

“Okay,” I finally gasped. “I think that's enough. Oh, God, Tim, I came sofuckinggood! You're so good at it-you made me come like crazy!”

When we separated at last, lying under the moonlight, I quickly hopped up and found my purse, then pulled out the wad of tissue I'd brought along. Just in case. In case I got lucky. He took them from me and wiped off the head of his dick, which was still hard from his evident excitement at bringing me to a climax.

“Tim, are you still hard from when I jacked your off or did you get excited all over again fingering me?” I asked him.

He gave me a look and shrugged.

“Both,” he told me. “You just got me so excited. I've never touched a girl's pussy before.”

I gave him a smile, but kept it as shy as I could. Almost innocent, but not quite. I mean, I'd grabbed his dick so fast it must've been obvious I was no real beginner when it came to sex.

“Do you want me to jack you off again?” I asked. “I will, if you want.”

He looked down to himself, at his slim dick sticking out from his crotch. “Okay,” he said. “If you don't mind.”

“I'd love to,” I told him. “And stick your fingers up my pussy again while I'm doing it. I want to come again, too. I'd love that.”

Yes, I would.