Chapter 5
Paul Snow was on his way home from Whitehall but decided to stop in one of the many coffee-bars in the Victoria Street area.
He sat down at a small table rather hoping that he would be left alone to read his newspaper, but he had no sooner ordered his coffee than a young girl came and sat opposite him.
"I hope you don't mind me sitting down here," she said, smiling at him a wan smile, "but there seems to be nowhere else to sit."
She was young, perhaps sixteen, with a pony-tail, wide-set eyes, oval face and jaunty, up-curving tits under a black sweater.
No, thought Paul, I certainly don't mind you sitting there. And then he spoke his thoughts: "No, do by all means, you're most welcome. Would you like me to order you a coffee. I mean will you have one with me?"
She seemed pleased. "Oh yes, I'd love that."
Paul ordered a second coffee and studied the girl's face as they talked inconsequentially. She was young and immature but she had fine, generous, almost voluptuous features. He could not decide whether she was just an innocent or whether she was well practiced at picking men up for hump-purposes in coffee-bars under the guise of innocence.
As they talked Paul decided that he would make every effort to get her to go back home and fuck with him.
"Do you live round here?" he asked her.
"No, I work in an office and live at Acton."
"On your way home them?"
"No, I always stay around at night, either down here or at Hammersmith."
"Don't your parents expect you? How old are you? Surely you can't go home just when you want to?" Paul was beginning to think that he was on to a good thing, but he had to make sure. But the fact that she worked at least suggested that she was at least sixteen.
"I'm fifteen and a half."
"But how can you be working if you're still under sixteen?"
"I'm only working during the holidays. As long as I earn a few pounds and give it to my father he does not bother me."
It was like that, thought Paul. A drunken father perhaps, a whorish mother, the two of them content to get what they could from their daughter.
"Oh, I see," said Paul. "Well, would you like to come back to my apartment? It's in Hampstead. You can go home by taxi."
"Oh, I don't know. I've never been to Hampstead, but I'd really like to. What are we going for?" She looked at him with a faint and whimsical smile on her lovely face.
"Well, you know the usual thing. Have you done it before?"
Paul had decided to take the plunge. He was very excited at the thought that she was only fifteen and a half, and a real contrast from the fifty-year-old he had fucked, at the Anomalies Club. He thought of Gina and Angelique but this girl, both in her innocence, youthfulness and beauty left them both far behind. He felt a very urgent desire to take her home as quickly as possible before she slipped through his fingers.
She didn't speak for a few minutes, lowering her head so that he could see the pony-tail. Then she said, "I'm not a virgin if that's what you mean, but what happened doesn't count. It was my father who fucked me first and I've never had anyone else. He doesn't do it now because I won't let him. But he tried to make me do it with a man he brought home also. And I refused him too. I think my father wanted the money he would have given him."
Even better, thought Paul. But he suddenly felt very sorry for her and he felt a wave of protectiveness overcome him, and urgent desire to take care of her, to reassure her.
"Well, if you refused to fuck the man, why are you coming with me?" It seemed a fair question, and Paul was not actually looking for flattery.
"Oh, because I like you and I'm lonely. I don't want any money for letting you frig me. It would be nice to be liked by you." And then she spoke the truth: "I would like some money, but I won't do it just for money."
"I understand," said Paul. "Well, I'll give you some money and you can get some clothes, and if you like me you can come again — you can come whenever you are in trouble too. I like you very much."
The girl looked at him almost unbelievingly. "Oh, I'd like that. But I don't know whether I'll be any good for you. I am rather frightened of — of sex, after what happened, but I want to try to get over that."
"I understand," said Paul. He was now roused to such a pitch that his cock had become erect under the table and wanted to pull out his prick there and then. But, of course, his better judgment prevailed. He knew that he had the girl in the palm of his hand, and provided he was gentle to her she would no doubt get over her fear of cock and fucking.
After a pause he called for the bill. "Well, let's go back then. We'll take a taxi."
They got up to leave and he let her go ahead of him as they walked a few yards down Victoria Street, looking for a cab. She was quite tall for her age, with long slender legs and a sensuous ass.
Paul was amazed at the shortness of her pleated skirt. Amazed that she wasn't raped at every street corner. They exposed more than half her thighs and as she walked one would have seen the flesh of her asscheeks if she had not been wearing tights. And as they stood waiting for a taxi to draw up he could see her lovely breasts in profile. Despite her youth she was very well developed and Paul knew that he was extremely lucky indeed.
They reached Hampstead about seven o'clock and Paul showed her into his living-room while he got some drinks. When he returned she was lying back on the divan her pony-tail splayed out on the cushions.
"What a lot of books. Have you read them all? Have you any records? Give me a cigarette please." Paul had scarcely time to phrase an answer to her questions before she came out with another one.
"Hey, just a moment. One thing at a time," he said, smiling down at her as he reached for a Pall Mall. "Here's your cigarette. Do you want a drink? Whisky or something?"
"No, but I'd like a Coca-Cola."
"I'll get you one." And as he went back to the kitchen he talked to her answering her questions. "No, I've not read them all. Some I use when I want to look up something. As for the records, yes, you saw the stereo player. I've hundreds. What do you want?"
"Oh, anything. Have you got 'West Side Story'?"
"Yes, I'll put it on for you. Here's your Coke." He took his own glass, half filled it with whisky, added soda and raised it. "Well, cheerio," he said.
When he had finished his Scotch he sat down on the bed beside her and embraced her. She pulled him to her and at once he knew that she was a girl who knew how to make love and fuck a man. "Oh, you are lovely," he said, partly to thank her, partly to reassure her, "you are very lovely and desirable. I am sure you will not be frightened of my cock when I fuck you!" He took her in his arms and their lips met for the first time, lovely sensual lips of a young girl touched those of the young rake, Paul Snow, lips that had sucked a hundred twats, sucked men's pricks and even those of animals. But he felt a different man, full of affection for the innocent and helpless girl in his arms, and his lips conveyed a gentleness and love that would have surprised many of the women he had been with in the past few years, though it would not have surprised his dead wife Lavinia if she could have seen them.
He kept her close to him, his chest against her luscious tits, as he continued to kiss her. She began to respond warmly to his embraces and kisses and soon she had opened her mouth for his tongue to penetrate and probe her tongue and teeth. Soon he was half on top of her, his prick erect and hard in his trousers, filled with a mixture of desire and protectiveness.
He then told her that they should go to his room and undress. "It will be much better if we fuck in bed," he said quietly. He was almost hesitating to take her innocence with the perversions he had planned for this lush young cunt; but then, he thought, if I don't someone else will.
He wanted to undress her but she seemed to be too shy to allow him to do this. She rapidly threw off her clothes as she turned away from him, but when she had finished she turned and stood in front of him.
He had reached the stage of pushing his trousers down his legs, but when he saw her absolutely voluptuous young body naked in front of him, he stopped full of wonder, amazed and flabbergasted.
He never expected to see such a combination of youthfulness, pure girlish innocence with the characteristics of a mature woman. Her body was slim and golden, almost that of a child; yet she had full, rounded breasts with large teats set in brown aureoles; her bush-hair was plentiful; her asscheeks well-rounded; her thighs, though boyish, held out the promise of perfection as they nearer the angle of her crotch and cunt.
And then she untied her hair and it cascaded down over her shoulders, reaching to her waist.
Paul pushed off his trousers and then his White shorts and went over to stand in front of her, his cock erecting already hardening. She smiled her candid smile and then lowered her long eyelashes. "Do you like me?" she smiled.
"Like you! My God, you are the loveliest thing I've ever seen. And your father has already fucked you, oh my God. It's horrible but I can hardly blame him. I can't keep my hands off your cunt ..."
His prick jutted from his mass of bush-hair as he reached out to touch her, to feel her lovely golden skin. She looked down at him and he could see that she was intrigued by what she saw. He went closer and pressed his body to hers, his stiff prick between their stomachs. And then, gently, more gently than he had ever kissed a woman before, he brought his lips against hers.
"I want to fuck you," he whispered.
"I want to fuck you too," she whispered in reply.
And he took her hand and led her to the bed. She got on first and lay back on the soft bedcover, her legs falling as if instinctively to reveal her cuntlips and twat.
It was moist already and as he touched it he knew that she was ready for him. But he had to fondle and caress her awhile, to savor her body. It was so precious, this moment of having her tits and ass in his hands for the first time. It would never be quite the same again, he thought.
He lay at her side, and then began to feel her breasts, gripping her tits, kneading the full flesh of her breasts, then feeling the smooth satiny skin of her flat stomach. His hands then went down to her lovely knees and he brought one of them up between her thighs to spread her cuntlips lightly as he moved to touch and caress her silky pubic hair. And then his fingers could no longer wait to feel between those lovely, golden haired cuntlips. He parted them with his index finger and felt for her clitoris. It was already enlarged and as he touched it and began to fondle it the girl moaned her delight and twisted her legs in pleasurable ecstasy.
And then it occurred to him that he did not know her name!
He pulled his hands from her twat and half lying across her he looked into her eyes. "Darling, we don't even know one another's names?"
"Mine's Rosalind," she murmured, closing her eyes as he brought his lips down to kiss her.
"I'm Paul."
"Oh, Paul, I'm excited. When are you going to — to do it?"
"Fuck you? Now, I'm going to do it to you now. But I'm worried, love. I mustn't give you a baby. I'll put something on later, just before I feel that I'm about to come, do you trust me?"
Any woman who trusts a man to come out of her cunt once his cock is in and fucking away and put on a contraceptive is a damn fool and asking for trouble. But Rosalind was lucky for Paul happened to be a man of his word, whatever his many failings. So though she did not know it, she was safe.
He fondled her breasts for another few moments and then parted her thighs, kneeling between them for a moment to fondle her wet pussy and to probe briefly into her cunt. She was wet, hot and waiting ...
He leaned forward, placing his weight for a moment on his left elbow while he guided his huge, throbbing prick into her juicy cunt with his right and. And then leaning on both elbows for a moment or two he urged his prick into her luscious father-violated vagina.
"Oh, Paul, it's lovely," she sighed as she felt his hard, virile dick enter her body. "It's so different when you put yours into me. Oh, go on Paul, do it to me now."
He let his weight press onto her thighs, belly and tits as he took her in his arms and gripped her to him so that he could get the maximum purchase for his cock's thrust, which he now began deliberately and rhythmically. His prick delved into the lovely twat of the girl, probed hotly into her almost virginal hole, reaching deep into her avid, receptive cunt. And for a moment he stopped his thrust as he felt her cervix pressing against the hard rim of his dick-head. Just then she lifted her legs and brought them tightly to clasp his body, and as she did so her lips sought his, pressing with desperation against him, using her tongue to excite his mouth. This was it then, thought Paul, a supreme moment of delight in every sense, a lovely body with a young almost virginal cunt. A fifteen-year-old!
He began to fuck her, pushing his prick hard into her clinging, tight pussy, kissing her passionately, and taking her asscheeks into his hands, digging deep into her satiny buttocks with his nails. Then he kissed her eyes, cheeks and shoulders, and was soon biting into her neck, knowing that he would leave marks that would not go for days. But he no longer cared as his hump-lust took full possession of him. And it was obvious that the girl too was completely carried away by his enthusiastic screwing. She writhed and squirmed under him as she moaned and murmured her delight. "Oooh, Paul, it's lovely, oh, please fuck me Paul."
Paul was indeed fucking her with all his power, ramming his cock into her, crashing his bush-hair against hers, feeling the hot sweat of his and her body trickling down between them. Up down her lovely girlish cunt he rammed his prick dozens of times until suddenly as they writhed in ecstasy on the bed they came together in one shattering, shuddering orgasm. And he had forgotten his promise! He was spurting his hot sperm deep into her vagina, feeling it shoot against her womb as he also felt her own spasms releasing her cunt-juices to mix with his spunk.
"Oh, darling, how lovely, how wonderful that load you just shot in my cunny feels!" she whispered to him.
"Yes, but I've come inside you," he panted. "I didn't mean to love. I'll have to look after you if anything happens."
"Oh, it won't. I'm just about due for my period. I'm sure I'll be safe this time," she said gently as if she could reassure a man twice her age, as if she wanted to take the burden from him.
They lay for a long time in the silence of the room until he turned to her again and started to frig her sperm-oozing pussy a second time, bringing them both closer than even the first time and giving them a moment of ecstasy that Paul felt could never be experienced again.
And then, when it was after midnight he helped her to dress. He gave her twenty-five dollars, but told her to keep it from her father, and then put her in a taxi to Hampstead. She said she would come to get laid again on the Saturday afternoon.
He waited eagerly for the rest of the week. For once he made no telephone calls and was content to look forward to having Rosalind's lovely pussy again for he knew that she would fulfill him as no one else had done since Lavinia.
He would have kept to his decision if he had not had an extraordinary encounter as he walked from his office through Camden Road on the Friday evening before the day she was coming to see him.