Chapter 1
Surrendering the virginity of her sweet little pussy was the smartest investment Jenny ever made ... but she didn't know it at the time.
Jenny wasn't that kind of girl-the cold-blooded, calculating kind. The idea that she might trade her tender flesh for riches never occurred to her.
In fact, it took a great deal of convincing to bring the youngster to the point where she passively let Uncle Walter take her.
At first, she wasn't ready for it, not at all. Jenny was so very young! Only in the last year or so had she crossed the boundary of puberty.
She was curious about this business of the birds and the bees, of course. Boys her age fascinated yet intimidated her.
But she was intensely curious. She knew something about the physical mechanics of the love act between male and female.
But all such knowledge was strictly on the theoretical side, of course, and was gathered from her clinically cold-blooded health and hygiene classes in junior high school, from scenes she had seen in R-rated movies (never had the tender teen seen an actual X-rated film-little did she dream that her young life was destined to become so wrapped up with all sorts of heated sex that her real-life exploits would make mere fictional films seem tame! But that was all in her future, and she had not the slightest idea of how things would wind up).
She was hardly naive. Between the gossip of her friends at school, and her own readings on the subject, she had a fair idea of what this business of sex was all about.
Or so she thought. Actually, Jenny was in a position similar to that of a denizen of the Great Plains of the Midwest, who has read about the sea and seen films of it, but has never actually stood on the shore of an ocean.
Only in her case, the unknown territory was not the sea of water, but rather the steamy sea of sex in which it seemed all adults swam.
This, the summer of her thirteenth year, was to be the summer of her sexual awakening and initiation-for starters.
The first time she discovered that Uncle Walter desired her-physically, sexually desired her-the innocent teen was shocked.
He was so very fond of her, of course. The other relatives made her feel unwanted, like so much excess baggage-but not Uncle Walter.
This lovely little teen miss, polite and proper, shy and soft-spoken, was just the apple of Uncle Walter's eye.
He made no bones about openly demonstrating his fondness for the newcomer which only infuriated his other kith and kin.
However, there was little that they could do about the girl, since they, like Jenny, lived in Uncle Walter's mansion, and thrived on his genial generosity.
He was rich-rich! He had made his pile in real estate dealings, and now, in his ripe middle ages, was one of the wealthier men in this Mid-Atlantic state.
Jenny and her Aunt Gloria were his house guests for the summer, adding their numbers to the ranks of those of his relatives already living in his mansion.
It was quite a place, a wonderland which awed and somewhat intimidated Jenny.
But there was nothing intimidating about good-natured, jocular Uncle Walter, after Jenny got to know him.
That is, there was nothing intimidating about the handsome, silver-haired old gentleman, until Jenny got to know him better.
At last she knew him too well, and the girl was once more intimidated, this time by the knowledge that his fondness for her had a sexual basis.
From the young vantage point of her thirteen years, Uncle Walter seemed old indeed, but that was only an illusion of her youth.
He was in his middle fifties, spry and strong despite a heart attack he had suffered some five years earlier.
To a youngster like sweet Jenny, anyone past the age of eighteen was an adult, part of that tribe of grown-ups whose motives were so often mysterious.
The first stirrings of Jenny's initiation from innocence into knowledge took place on a warm sunny weekday afternoon.
It was about two-thirty in the afternoon, and Jenny, as was her custom, was taking some tea with Uncle Walter.
He loved the company of the young girl, and this afternoon teatime had become a kind of ritual which he rarely if ever missed.
The tea was taken in the outer room of his suite of rooms in the upstairs area of the mansion. This outer room was a kind of parlor.
Uncle Walter and Jenny sat facing each other, seated in old-fashioned, deeply cushioned high-backed armchairs.
Between them was a small table whose round top held glasses of tea on coasters. The summer's heat required cool, refreshing iced tea.
It was a rather ordinary day, much like any other-or so Jenny thought.
Pretty as a picture of sweet youth she looked that day, indeed every day.
She was tall, slim, coltish, with silken fair hair, a round wide face with wide pale blue eyes and a pink-lipped rosebud mouth.
She was very fair-skinned, and her face was tinged with golden tones from time spent under the sun's tanning rays.
Her hair when unbound reached down to the middle of her back. She would not cut it, but summer's heat made it too uncomfortable for her to wear her hair loose.
She had solved that problem by braiding her hair. Her hair, parted down the middle of her scalp, had been wound into a pair of thick braids.
These golden braids hung down on either side of her sweet face, which was round and softened with traces of her babyfat.
The braids reached down so that the ends of them dangled lightly on the top of her chest, where her small breasts began.
She wore no make-up, her fresh natural loveliness needing none. Pale freckles were lightly scattered across her round cheeks.
Jenny was charmingly outfitted in a fetching thin frock, pale blue with white trimmings, a sleeveless dress whose hem reached her knees.
Her feet were wrapped in shining white ankle socks, with flat-heeled loafers completing her outfit.
Demure, a little lady, she sat in her chair, knees pressed together, hands resting in her lap as she chatted with Uncle Walter.
He was tall, thin, wiry, with a sharply featured face and shrewd eyes which glittered and sparkled as they scanned the face and form of the girl.
Jenny was only just starting to ripen into the blossoming curves of adolescence, and a good part of her charm consisted of the mixture of child and woman in her.
Such girlish charms were not lost on Uncle Walter.
Uncle Walter was a bit of an eccentric. Happily for him, he had the millions which permitted him to act any way. he desired.
He slept past noon, and spent a good part of most days idly lounging about in his rooms, dressed in little more than a robe and slippers.
Thus was he dressed on that sultry summer afternoon. His long lean bony form was wrapped in a quilted smoking jacket, belted by a sash at the waist.
Under his robe, he wore a pair of striped pajamas, top and bottom. His hair was silver, remaining thick and full, and was combed straight back from his forehead.
His clean-shaven face was pink and shining, with dark brows, deepset eyes, a hawk-like nose, and thin lips.
A cool breeze played through the parlor and the rest of his suite of rooms. Uncle Walter disliked air conditioning, and cooled his personal rooms with a fan, the breezes of which constantly played over him and Jenny.
In order to improve the circulation of the air, the door to his bedroom was open. From where Jenny sat, facing that open door, she could see a portion of the room, including the antique fourposter bed with its overhead canopy.
Looking at her uncle, a genial silver-haired middle aged gentleman, Jenny found it hard to believe that he had once been the rapacious real estate pirate whose shrewd, hard, complex deals had built up a massive fortune.
Wealth and its seductive ways were new to this young miss, who had been raised in resolutely middle class surroundings by her Aunt Gloria.
From time to time, she had been brought by Aunt Gloria to visit her wealthy Uncle Walter, who seemed to grow fonder and fonder of the little lady as she left girlhood behind and reached puberty.
Her recent visits had been of increasing duration, so that where she and Aunt Gloria once stayed for a night or a weekend, they now visited for weeks at a time.
This was her longest visit, since she would be spending the summer, with her guardian Aunt Gloria, living in one of the many guest rooms in the mansion.
It was a novel way for Jenny to vacation. Aunt Gloria had promised her that it would be a real education for the girl.
She and Aunt Gloria had only been staying at the house for the last ten days or so, having arrived about a week or two after Jenny had finished up the term of her year in the junior high school she attended.
Before this summer, the girl was annually packed up and sent off to summer camp. This was the first summer she would spend with Aunt Gloria.
Jenny and Uncle Walter sipped the refreshing iced tea. Jenny's parted pink lips were moist with the cool liquid, as she pressed the rim of the frosty glass to her mouth, tilted back her head, sipped and swallowed.
When the glasses at last were drained, Jenny put them on a tray and set them outside the door of Uncle Walter's room, placing the tray on the floor just outside the door, where one of the servants could fetch it later.
"Close the door, darling ," Uncle Walter said.
Jenny obeyed. Her skirt swirled around her knobby pink knees as she crossed the room and came to the area where her uncle sat.
"How pretty you are!" Uncle Walter held out his hands to her.
His hands were heavily veined on their backs, with "fingers like dry brown sticks. They took Jenny's slim-fingered hands in their own and fondly squeezed them.
Releasing his grip on the girl at last, Uncle Walter patted the top of his thigh. "Come, sit on my lap, you little darling!"
Once more Jenny obeyed. She was a most docile girl, and generally did what her elders told her to do, within limits.
She didn't know it-couldn't have dreamed of it-but before very long, the limits of her obedience were going to expand to new realms beyond her wildest imaginings.
So, she sat down on the lap of grinning Uncle Walter, who fought to keep that grin from becoming a leer when the girl parked her pert bottom on his lap.
Jenny sat down on his lap, her buttocks pressing warmly on his groin, her calves and feet dangling over the side of his thighs.
He slipped an arm around her waist and held her tightly, smiling as he did so. Jenny was a sheltered lass, and saw nothing wrong in such an innocent pasttime.
Uncle Walter was most fond of her. He was always hugging her and kissing her, always stroking her like some little pet and fussing over her.
Such attentions had not endeared her to his many other relatives and hangers-on, who resented anyone more in the millionaire's good graces than themselves.
He held her and squirmed under her, loving the way that the warm weight of her buttocks pressed down on his genitals.
"What a pretty little thing you are, what a darling!" he fussed. "Now tell me, Jenny dearest, where on earth did you ever get such golden hair?"
"Oh, Uncle Walter, I don't know," Jenny giggled.
As she giggled, her buttocks rolled over his genitals even more, although the innocent miss was entirely unaware of the effect she was having on him.
Red color flared in his face, and his eyes were hot, calculating. His mouth was still shaped in the genially indulgent grin he wore habitually in her presence.
He hugged her tightly, his puckered lips pressing the side of her face in a wet smooching kiss which brought a bit of a blush to her cheeks .
Still fussing over her, he took hold of one of her braids, which lay in his weathered palm like a length of golden silken rope.
He fondled her hair, teasing her, coaxing a fresh bout of giggling from her by rubbing the end of the braid against her face.
He breathed harder, his mouth watering. Her hair was close to his face and he could smell the faint, sweetly natural scent of her tresses.
Excitement pounded in his pulse, setting off a powerful throbbing in his penis. That throbbing, once begun, could only continue.
Continue it did. Shifting around on the pretense of making himself more comfortable, he managed to rub his stimulated member against her bottom.
Believing that his squirmings were nothing more than his getting into a more comfortable position, Jenny thought nothing of: it.
Indeed, the idea of herself as sexually stimulating had hardly occurred to Jenny at this early stage in the development of her womanhood.
Like virtually all adolescent girls, who have only recently reached puberty, Jenny was confused, concerned, and highly conscious of her body.
Many a night, safely locked in the privacy of the rosy little room at home, Jenny had examined herself naked in the mirror.
First making sure her door was locked, and her windows were fully curtained and covered, Jenny would strip down to bare flesh.
She would stand facing the mirror, critically peering at her reflected image, examining the blossoming of her body.
Puberty was strange. Since she had gotten her first period, her body, so familiar to her and thus taken for granted, was transformed into a thing of wonder.
Girlhood was left far behind as she changed and ripened. Her chest, formerly as flat as a board, had budded with the soft tender roundnesses of blossoming breasts.
Fleecy hairs, soft as silk, had sprouted on the gently arched mound of her little pussy, until a pale blonde bush, thin and fair, lay there.
And there were other, inner developments as well-like the way she would get so hot and bothered sometimes, until she couldn't stand it.
At school, like all the other little darlings her age, Jenny had watched with keen eyes the development of her female classmates.
They all were at that awkward age where dolls were set aside for real, live boys and the intricate rituals of the teen courting game.
Some girls grew up faster, others slower. Adrian Mitola, a girl who was in her class, already had womanly breasts and a darkly bushed pussy.
Of course, that maybe didn't count, since Adrian had stayed back, and was a year older than her other classmates.
But then there was Cherry Hoyle, one of Jenny's best friends. Cherry had soft brown hair and dark eyes and a very nubile body.
In the shower room and the locker room of the girls' gym, Jenny had often covertly studied the different physiques of her schoolgirl associates.
Cherry really was built. Her breasts were like pears, full and shapely, coming to a point, with dark pink nipples.
And Cherry also had a dark brown bush, a patch of fleece much darker in color than the hair of her head.
By contrast, Jenny was not entirely satisfied with the ripening of her own flesh. If Cherry's breasts were the size of pears, then Jenny's breasts were the shape and size of plums, forming pert soft swellings at her bosom.
Jenny wished she. was built like Cherry. But, it could have been worse, since there were some girls in her grade who had not gotten their periods at all yet, and whose chests were flat and their pussies smooth and hairless.
Still, Jenny could not help but wish that she would really ripen out-although she was not sure if she could handle all the attention from boys which Cherry got.
Cherry had confessed to Jenny that sometimes it got obnoxious, when the boys in class kept staring at her tits.
More than once, when she had been with her friend, Jenny had seen not just boys in junior high school, but high school guys, and even men, looking over Cherry with lust in their eyes.
Jenny herself had gotten such hot, sizzling looks from men once or twice, men who looked her up and down and liked what they saw.
It scared Jenny, to be looked over by a hot-eyed male who stared as though seeing right through her dress and undies at the coltish body beneath.
It was scary but flattering, at least in retrospect, when she was safely away from those strangers and could reflect on their desire for her.
She knew Cherry was eager to go all the way. Jenny was not so eager, and in fact was highly nervous about giving up her all.
What it was like-sex, that is-was the number one topic of conversation between the tender young teen girls at junior high school ... and of the boys as well.
Jenny wondered what it would be like. She had been on dates with boys, and made out lots of time. But for her, making out only went as far as prolonged sessions of open-mouthed kissing with tongues, generally.
Once or twice, she had let boys that she really liked feel her tender little titties, if only through her blouse.
Some of her girlfriends would permit boys to fondle their bare breasts, but Jenny was hardly prepared to permit such liberties.
Wistfully, she thought that it must be dreamy, if the boy would be real gentle. Her little titties were so sensitive to the touch!
Often, during her night-time sessions of staring into the mirror at her naked self, Jenny would handle her body.
She would stroke her titties. As sensitive as they were, each gliding pass of her caressing fingers over her breasts would set her a-quivering.
Then, under that slow, smooth, stroking sensation, her tiny nipples would tingle and then stiffen into a pair of rock-hard little points.
When her nipples stood out stiff and straight, they were more sensitive than ever, so that she would get breathless and really hot from touching them.
And there was more ... sometimes, when she got so hot that she had to do something, she would hurry to her single bed and lay down on her back.
Spreading her long skinny legs, she would put her hand between them and softly touch her pink-lipped, delicate little pussy.
As her fondlings set the pussy lips glowing with erotic warmth, drops of humid moisture would ooze inside her pussy.
The more she rubbed and touched herself, the wetter and hotter she would get inside her slit, and indeed all over her body.
Then she would squeeze her eyes shut and let her fingertips steal to the little button of pearly-pink flesh that was her clitoris.
She would rub and stroke and squeeze her clitoris, kindling a fire in her flesh until that fire swept over her.
Then she would know the sweet, shattering release of orgasm.
This she would do for herself-but no boy had ever so much as put his hand on her bare breast, not to mention her pussy.
Once, when she was really hot, a boy she really liked had taken hold of her hand and pressed it on the swollen lump of flesh that was his erection.
He rubbed her hand against his penis, which was wrapped in the denim crotch of his blue jeans. She masturbated him through his pants.
When he came, she had thought that he was going to pass out, so intense was his reaction when he orgasmed.
Such was the extent of her sexual experience at the start of summer.
Now, as she sat on the lap of kindly Uncle Walter, a frown knitted her brows, and rosy red spots of blushing color flared in her rounded cheeks.
She felt something hard and swollen pressing her buttocks-something stiff and lumpy in the crotch of Uncle Walter's pajamas.
She tried to ignore it as best she could. Her face burned with a bright red blush. Anxiously she chewed her lower Up.
Innocent as she was, she had been with enough boys to know a hard-on when she felt it pressing against her.
"Such a sweet child," Uncle Walter cooed, as he caressed her hair and face. His face burned hot and red, too, but not from blushing.
Jenny might have sat on his lap for a long, long time, but it was Uncle Walter himself who eased her off his lap and on her feet.
Blushing in a state of swirling confusion at this turn of events-never had there been anything sexual between her and Uncle Walter-Jenny stood up, smoothing down her skirt to mask her distracted state.
Warm sweaty wetness was sticky under the arms of her sleeveless thin dress. When she sat on his lap, her panties had pressed into her crotch.
She cast a quick sidelong glance down at his lap, quickly looking away as she saw the swollen bulge which lifted the crotch off his pajamas.
Uncle Walter was cool and collected, showing not the slightest sign of shame at the stiffly swollen erection which bulged in his pants.
He rose from the chair to his feet, the flaps of his dressing gown falling over his crotch, and thankfully covering his state of arousal.
Uncle Walter shuffled across the floor, the soles of his soft slippers sliding over the intricately patterned carpeting.
He paused at the open "doorway of his room. "Don't go away, darling little Jenny girl-I'll be right back!"
"I have something that I want to show you, dear," he added, winking bawdily before he entered his bedroom and vanished behind the wall.
Jenny stood there , sweat oozing from her palms, face hot and red, She told herself that Uncle Walter's arousal had been purely accidental and innocent.
After all, he was a male, and he might have gotten hard from the way his groin was pressed by her bottom when she sat on his lap, and "Look, Jenny!"
Once more, Uncle Walter was in view, standing out-lined in the open doorway of his bedroom, facing her.
Only this time, his robe was open, and his pajama bottoms were down, being held by him in one hand, so that they hung at his knees.
His other hand clutched a red, swollen, nakedly exposed erection.
"Look what Uncle Walter's got for his little Jenny girl!"
His laughter followed her as she ran.