Chapter 5
Little Girl Blue
"The frayed velvet of the seat rubbed harshly across my butt and the backs of my thighs as I sat down, my eyes rapidly adjusting to the dim lighting. The movie was a dumb cowboy thing, and I stared dully at the flickering screen only until I could see as well in there as outdoors. It was the super-special Saturday matinee, but I hadn't come to see the show.
"Although my heart was beating kind of hard and the palms of my hand were damp, I was amazed at how quickly I'd caught on to the routine. Even in the dark I'd managed to sit down next to a--likely one. I glanced at the man sideways, taking care that he didn't catch me observing him.
"He looked to be around fifty, and the way he was dressed gave me the idea he might be a businessman taking an afternoon break, probably miles and miles from where he worked and lived. A sad old businessman, looking for a nice, safe way to get a few thrills without getting caught.
"Karen said a lot of them were businessmen, actually. She said that people only assumed that old men who dug very young girls were dirty bums who lived in doorways and existed on cheap wine. Actually, Karen told me, most of the older men who came to the movies in hopes of getting to play with a young girl were what you would call 'respectable' types, guys with grown kids of their own, and often grand-kids our age.
"Karen is my best friend. She's the one who started the 4-F club. That stands for 'Find 'em, Feel 'em, Fleece 'em, and Forget 'em.' The way the whole thing started was that Karen simply got tired of always going to the movies on Saturday, sitting down, having some old creep feel her up, then having to change seats to get away from him. A girl ended up missing half the flick that way. She got felt up anyway, and she had nothing to show for it afterwards. It was a drag. Parents have no idea what goes on at these movies. I mean, a girl of any age has to expect she'll be hit on half a dozen times during a double feature. So finally Karen came up with the idea that we should get something out of it, at least.
"The club had its official start the week before. All us girls in junior high who lived in the neighborhood got together and formed the club. The deal was that when one of these men started fooling with us we could either tell him right off that he better buzz off or at least six girls would be screaming that he was molesting them, or we could let them mess around as much as we wanted, then threaten them with everything short of actual rape. The point was, they were not to get away without laying some bread on us-anywhere from half a buck for popcorn and a coke, just for bugging us, to a couple of dollars for a new record or something. Most of the time the girl didn't have to ask for the money. At the first sound of calling for the fuzz, the old fools would shell out automatically, telling the girl she had misunderstood, and to get a coke and cool off. It really was funny. And safe enough. And simple.
"Only it hadn't worked out that simple last week. Not for me. I hadn't told Karen what had actually happened; I'd only shown her the three dollar bills and evaded the details. Listening to the other girls recount what had happened to them made me even more determined to keep my mouth shut. Lee, a pretty twelve-year-old in the club, had giggled as she told her story.
" 'A guy sat down next to me right away, and started trying to get his hand inside my panties half a second later. I asked him right out if he'd give me money to catch a bus. Grinning like an ass he gave me a buck, his hand about an inch from my pussy all the while. I thanked him sweetly and said the buck would probably be enough to get me to the police station where I could report him. Man, did he ever take off!'
"I glanced around the clubhouse-a dusty tool shed behind Ginger's house-and wondered if any of the girls had had an experience like mine. Dolly told her story next. She was thirteen, like me, only she was much younger looking. She looked like a real kid with her flat chest and straight up and down figure. She was kind of cute, though.
" "This really old man sat down next to me and began the usual junk of touching my leg and all. I was wearing my jeans so there wasn't much he could do. I let him run his hands all over my legs and belly, and finally he got brave and put his fingers on my zipper. I waited until he got my pants half way unzipped before asking him for money. The creep was so excited he was shaking as he dug out a buck. I took it and told him I had friends sitting all over the place, and if I screamed half a dozen of them were going to say he was also trying to get fresh with them. I bet he's still running. He didn't even have the manners to zip me up again.'
"Ginger spoke next, and her story was the only one that came even close to mine. 'The guy that started fooling around with me was kind of sweet, in a weird way. I was wearing a short skirt, and his touch was so nice and soft he got inside my panties before I realized it. To tell you the truth, it felt kind of good. I mean, I knew he couldn't go too far, so I figured I'd wait awhile. He tried to put my hand on his prick, but I wouldn't do it. So he played with it himself, all the while rubbing my pussy real gently. The next thing I knew he was breathing hard and moving his hand fast under the sweater he had thrown over both of our laps. Then he sort of moaned a little and was still. I figured he had come. From what I've heard about coming, it had to be that. So next thing I know, he's on his feet and ready to split without so much as a word to me. I blocked his way and whispered that unless he gave me some money I was going to scream and tell everyone what he had done.
The old bastard went white at that, dug out a crumpled bill and shoved it at me, then ran. I thought it was a one.' She reached into her bra and pulled out the bill. 'See? It's a five! It was so easy and such fun, and now I'm rich!'
"When it was my turn, I lied. I told them that a guy had sat behind me and reached up, like he was leaning on the back of my chair in order to see the flick better. But he actually was feeling my tits. Then I told him unless he gave me some money I would scream. Well, it wasn't actually a lie. That part was true, all right, only I didn't ask him for money then. In fact, I never had to ask him for money at all.
"I thought about what had actually happened the week before while I did a quick once over of the man sitting next to me now. Last week I'd been really nervous. Oh, sure, I'd had lots of guys sit next to me at the flicks. Going to an afternoon show meant changing seats a lot because of them. But this time it was different. We were deliberately there because of these old letches. I had been nervous enough to find a seat alone for a moment instead of going directly to a seat next to a possible victim. But I hadn't noticed the man seated in the row behind me. I became aware of him when he slid over three or four seats so he could be directly behind me.
"He started by leaning forward in his seat and casually playing with my long hair. I'm proud of my hair. It's dark and heavy, and I keep it shining. It almost reaches my waist. Anyway, this man started fondling it. It was a weird sensation, because I had no idea who he was or what he looked like. Funny enough, I hoped he wasn't young. Boys my age, or even high school and college boys, turn me off. I'd always figured I was a little retarded or something, because the only males I was interested in were like one of my teachers who was old enough to be my dad at least, and some movie stars, also pretty up in years. Maybe it was because my dad had died when I was tiny, and maybe these guys represented a father or something. At least that was what Karen is always saying. I don't know, and I don't care. I just know that young guys give me the chills.
"Anyway, all this attention on my pride and joy, my hair, wasn't too hard to take. I half turned, as if shaking hair out of my face, and saw enough of the man to know he was even older than Mr. B-, the teacher I liked. This man must have been in his middle or late fifties, and he wasn't bad looking. He sort of reminded me of Mom's insurance man who had a granddaughter almost my age. I guess I sort of relaxed after that.
"He played with my hair for a while, then let his hands, both of them, slip over the front of my shoulders and down. He moved as if he were really sure of himself and of me. I guess he was right, because I didn't move or say anything as his hands firmly cupped my little tits. like my hair, I was super proud of my breasts. They are on the small side, but big enough for my slim frame. They really are pretty, soft and warm to the touch, with hard little nubs at the tips, each pointing upwards. Alone in my room, I liked reaching under my clothing and feeling them, squeezing them, thinking how much some man would enjoy holding them. It never failed to get me hot.
"This guy seemed to be enjoying them, all right. He had one in each hand, and I was glad we were seated up in the balcony where it was darkest. Realizing the man must have made sure we were safe enough before messing with me, I decided not to worry about it and just let his hands go on touching me for a while more. In the back of my mind was the thought that I should call it quits pretty soon, but there didn't seem to be an urgency about it. I could make him stop at any time, so why not take my time?
"His hands began to squeeze me. It felt good. I could feel my little nipples getting hard. Then, just as I was wishing my dumb old sweater wasn't in the way of his nice hands, he dropped his hands to the sweater's hem and brought them up against my naked flesh. I never wore a bra-I'm too firm to have to wear anything. My whole body tingled as he cupped my bare tits and squeezed. Holding them with nothing in the way really seemed to get to him-he began working them like mad, rubbing and weighing them with his palms, teasing the burning nipples with his fingers . ... There was no way in the world I was having any thoughts about stopping him then. It felt too wonderful.
"There was something eerie about being felt up this way, with the people in the movie screen shrieking and jumping around, bigger than life but completely unaware of me or the guy playing with my tits. I silently wished the movie would never end.
"Finally, the man removed his hands. I waited, unable to move, feeling kind of deserted and lonely now that my aching tits were abandoned. But then the man leaned even closer to my seat, in fact, rested his chest against it as if needing to get as close to the screen as possible for the exciting part. I could feel him against my shoulders, mashing against my hair, and the combined odor of tobacco, after shave and old-man smell was strong in my nostrils. It was a groovy feeling, waiting, being aware, but not Knowing exactly what would come next.
"I didn't have long to wait. Acting really casually, the man dropped one of his hands down over my excited tits, past my belly, and onto my lap. I was wearing a miniskirt, and his hand was right at the edge of it, half touching my thigh. When I didn't protest or move, the man reached under the skirt, felt my inside thigh, and put his hand over my panty-covered pussy. It felt as if I'd touched an electric outlet wet. Only good.
"Before I could recover, I felt the hand slipping beneath my panties and a finger inching between the lightly-haired lips of my young cunt. The finger began to trace the crack, which was, I was amazed to realize, sopping wet. Then, with no delay at all, the finger slipped into my hole while I mechanically opened my legs more to let it in!
"This was definitely the time to call it quits! I knew I'd stalled long enough. But it felt so groovy, his big hard finger in there, moving around, doing crazy things to my insides. I kept thinking, I'd stop in another minute, just one more minute . ...
"He was the one who stopped, finally. He moved his finger out of my hole and up a ways, rubbing it against something hard. I felt my little clitoris respond, and all through me the wonderful sensations were stronger than ever. While he rubbed he put his lips so close to my ear that his breath sent shivers down my neck.
" 'In the parking lot in the back,' he whispered. 'The black station wagon parked way in the rear, near the field. Follow me out, but don't come too close. Got it?'
"I felt myself nod, and then the finger dipped into my pussy one last time and was gone. My knees were water as I got up a minute or two after the man brushed past me on his way down the aisle. I didn't stop to ask myself what I was doing, and I didn't think about how the man might be a murderer or something. I just followed him. I didn't seem to have any choice. My cunt was one big ache, such as I'd never before experienced, and the ache had to be soothed, that was all there was to it. Forgotten was the 4-F club and the other girls, and the money.
"It was late afternoon, and I blinked as the bright sunlight chased the fog from my eyes. I wasn't too far behind the man, so I slowed my step. I had been right about him, he was probably old enough to be my grandfather, and he was dressed as square as the insurance man, but none of that mattered at all. In fact, it seemed to add to the excitement.
"He held the door open for me, glancing nervously around. But he didn't have much to worry about. There was only one other car parked out there, and there wasn't a soul anywhere. It was one of those dumpy parking lots where no one ever really parks, and the field near his car was a burned out nothing that wasn't much good for anything, not even the little league.
"Now that he had me in his car, the old man started acting kind of weird, super nervous and up tight. He wouldn't look directly at me, as if he didn't want me to really look at him. I figured he was worried about getting caught, but after fighting it out on his own while I just sat there, too hot to move, he bent toward me.
" 'Listen, kid, I guess this is as good a spot as any. Huh?' His hand snaked between my legs again. I nodded and sighed. His fingers were separating my little lips again, then rooting around in the slick, hot cavity beneath.
"His eyes slitted as he felt me. 'You sure are a pretty little girl. You're the prettiest little girl I've ever seen, honey.' His voice was thick. He had one arm around me as he whispered into my ear while his other hand was busy in my hole. 'You're just a baby. How old are you, honey? Tell me. Not older than twelve, huh?'
"For some crazy reason I nodded, although I was very proud of being thirteen and a teenager. It was like I sensed that he wanted me to be twelve for him.
" 'Your sweet little pussy is so nice and tight. Have you ever let anyone else touch you there? Has anyone else ever done this to you?'
"This time my answer was the truth, as well as what he wanted to hear. 'No. No one. Just you.'
" 'Good!' he replied. 'You mustn't let anyone else do this to you. Other men would hurt you, you sweet little girl. They wouldn't just do things to you that feel good, like I'm going to do. They'll take their big things and try to stick them up your little hole ... your delicious, beautiful little hole.. , . ' He moaned then and dipped his finger further into me. Then he took my hand.
" 'Do you know about the things men have in their pants? The big stiff cocks that could hurt little angels like you?' He brought my hand to his fly. Under the rough fabric and closed zipper I could feel the man's large cock. It was as hard as a rock and twitched as my fingers touched it. He seemed to love my feeling it, and I was more than willing. I'd never touched a prick before. But he took my hand away.
" 'Those things are bad, darling. They'll ream your little hole wide open, if you're not very careful. There are a lot of men who would push you down when their pricks are as hard as mine, push you down and spread your legs and ram their fat cocks right up that beautiful little pussy of yours. They would.'
"At that point, having that happen didn't seem like such a bad thing. His voice and hand had me worked up so bad I didn't know what to do. Having this man stick his prick up there might feel even groovier than having his finger in my hole. But I kept quiet.
" 'I won't do that to you, sweetheart, so don't worry.' Then his voice changed and he sounded like anybody else. He looked around, then said, 'You watch real careful to see if anyone comes along. Hear me? If you see anyone-I don't care how far away-you tell me right away. You hear?'
"I nodded and promised, not knowing what was next on the program. As soon as I agreed, the man pushed me back on the seat to a sideways, half-sitting, half-reclining position and got to his knees on the floor. It was fortunate that the station wagon was a big one. He was pretty big. But if he was uncomfortable, he didn't say anything. Then he spread my legs a little, and pulled down my panties. All the time he was getting me out of them he kept whispering things. I couldn't understand all that he said, but he seemed to be carrying on about what a beautiful little cunt I had and how good it would taste, and how he had to get it in his mouth. Stuff like that. It didn't make me any calmer, those crazy words of his.
"When he finally had my panties off and my skirt bunched around my waist, he brought one leg around his neck so that his face was right between my thighs, up against my pussy. I was beyond thinking about what he was going to do to me. I just held my breath, and if he hadn't hurried I might never have taken another breath. But in a flash he had buried his face into my opened slit, the little lips on either cheek so that his lips and nose were pressed directly against my aching clit and juicing hole. Then his tongue darted out and flicked over my clit. I'm not sure I didn't pass out. I may have. It's hard to remember. All I know is that the most intense wave of agony/pleasure passed over me, leaving me weak and crying. But that was only the start, and I was weak and helpless to do anything about it. It's a good thing that no one came to the parking lot, because at the first whipping of his tongue against my clit I was blind and deaf to anything save the fire in my pussy. And he was totally caught up in tasting and sucking and licking and sniffing and biting every inch of me from the crack of my ass to the base of my belly.
"I even tried pulling away after a while, thinking I might die if the intense shocks didn't stop for a little bit. But he wouldn't let me escape. I struggled frantically, but his iron mouth was a trap from which I couldn't release myself. But it was while I was struggling that it happened; a strange rumbling kind of white-hot something began, way inside, a curious sensation that couldn't be ignored and grew in spite of all I could do to stop it. My thighs tensed and I felt a sudden film of sweat on my upper lip. I think I screamed. I know I grasped the man's hair and held on for life as the wave crashed somewhere in my womb and the white hot light was suddenly in front of my eyes and I was crying and trembling all over, and my legs were locked so tightly around the old man's head that I'm sure he couldn't have breathed at all until it was all over . ...
"Somehow I was being helped back into my panties, helped out into the street, given three damp and crumpled dollar bills and left there in the gray, smelly belch of his exhaust fumes as he started up the car and screechingly pulled out of the parking lot. But I was dumb to this sudden exile, alive only to the startling realization that this was what it meant to 'come,' to reach an 'orgasm,' to 'shoot' ... and I knew, just as I know now what heaven had to be if people were to struggle towards it, that I would be back next week, back for the matinee, for the faceless old men, the angels of this new, crazy, wonderful heaven I'd so unexpectedly discovered . ...
"Oh, yes, there was no doubt I'd be back . ... "
As we have alluded earlier, the psychologic mirror-response of nymphophilia is gerontophilia (Greek: gerontos-elderly, and philos-love of). The word is easily recalled if one thinks of geriatrics (identical roots).
The aberrations nymphophilia (or pedophilia, in this case) and gerontophilia are complementary and each assists in the apparent normalization of the other. By this statement is meant that while nymphophilia directed toward a fourteen-year-old girl may be considered destructive and reprehensible if the girl responds only out of curiosity and trust, it becomes much less evil (and psychologically destructive) if the girl herself has precocious sexual attractions toward the nymphophile. The reasons are simple: she has, by her own mirrored attraction, become less of a pawn, less directed. Since she has a conscious need (and thus a motivation), she is not, in effect, being maneuvered quite the way another fourteen-year-old might be. This peculiar set of circumstances is not quite as rare as we might suppose, and it accounts for some of the more bizarre attitudes we see in both psychologic and legal circles. Many nymphophiles, for a certainty, are led on, induced and provoked every bit as much as they induce and provoke, and thus it becomes a question of dangling carrots before a donkey, putting a shot of bourbon before the alcoholic, tempting the diabetic with chocolates . ...
Here again, we are confronted with the element of money-whether that money represents approval, aggrandizement, or tokenism doesn't really matter, since there is a different quality here than in the chapter dealing with outright prostitution ("Pixie Was Twelve"). On close reading, one gets the impression that Elaine is only secondarily interested in the money-or that it has become a symbol of success by which she competes with her girl friends. Her mentions of the remuneration from her under-age exploits seem to have a "so-what?" quality. It is apparent that we shall have to explore other areas to find a more convincing explanation of her antics.
We would not be hasty in assigning a "geron-tophiliac" tag to Elaine, but neither would we rule out the possibility. For one thing, Elaine alludes to no male school chums, nor does she seem to have a social-centering in her life other than with her competitive girl friends (one a heterosexual withdrawal of sorts, the other easily translatable to a fear of lesbianism). All of these (and other) possibilities are ambivalences, containing elements of hostility, aggression, passiveness, and indominance, all at the same time. Which is precisely the near-schizoid type of ambivalence one detects in the circumstance of gerontophilia.
On the other hand, we are not keen about the gerontophilia concept, simply because the classic aberration itself lies in a somewhat different area. True gerontophilia implies that the older partner be exactly that: old. A forty-year-old man marrying a seventeen year-old girl is not really gerontophilia, because forty just isn't that old. However, a thirty-year-old woman marrying a seventy-year-old man (or vice versa) is clearly gerontophilia (if other motives can be dismissed). Elaine, when she opts to select her males carefully, seems to be aiming toward virility and attractiveness, not gerontophiliac compensations for the same qualities. Her motives seem genuinely sexual, and on a somewhat highly organized conscious level. For this reason, we must regard her as being simply sexually precocious, motivated by a need for acceptance within her circle of girl friends, and aggressive to the point that gerontophiliac overtones (but not much more than that) must be admitted. The other fears and douhts which are constituents of gerontophilia seem to be absent: fear of absolute confrontation, doubts of one's desirability, the indominance of "yielding" to "wisdom."
Thus the fragmentary gerontophilia we see here is centered about aggression, that peculiar form of soft sadomasochism by which one is able to "force" and "reject" the world in one stroke. Perhaps a better understanding of this phenomenon is needed at this point.
Aggression is the acting-out manifestation of the unconscious condition generally referred to as hostility. Both the underlying root (hostility) and the acts themselves (aggression) belong to that personality trait we sometimes refer to as assertiveness. This is generally an evolutionary character development indicative of early anal and oral fixations (and thus heavily intertwined with incest wishes), all related to primary developmental stages in the human infant. When one alludes to hostility and its agent, aggression, another manifestation must be considered. It is the "capper" or "final straw" which tops the cake, frustration, which means the blocking of human motives and acts here as a sort of middle-man catalyst by which the actual character of the subject is energized and brought into a rigid, definable focus. To be frustrated is to be overinhibited by a system of blockages, which serve both to nullify drive and motive, and to externalize resentments. The subject tries to "fight" out of the confining blockages (or perhaps-occasionally-try to find reinforcements of the strength of the original motive whereby the blockage can be subdued). Quoting from Fillmore Sanford's text, Student Workbook for Psychology: A Scientific Study of Man, we discover:
... an additional and equally direct reaction to frustration is the aggressive response. ... But, far more important, we must understand that aggressive behavior results from an inner hostility. ... Frequently the frustrated organism, instead of attacking the immediate cause of its difficulty, will vent its anger on other and safer objects that come readily to hand.
What "safer" and "readier" object might Elaine have hoped to encounter than those which seemingly sought her out? Thought of in this light, we might reasonably assume that her sexual confrontations with older men were actually aggressive "contests," whereby she undertook to vent hostility and thereby relieve some inner frustration dealing with her earlier parental relationships.
This is not to say that these older men represented father figures-such may or may not have been the case, but psychic response is rarely so direct.
As we proceed with the narration, we caution the reader to take careful note of the risks Elaine is willing to take (hostility), and the almost casual contempt with which she regards her suitors, (exploitation-a form of aggression).
"His hand on my leg brought me back to the present. For a moment I'd forgotten I was at the matinee again, so wrapped up was I in memories of the week before. I sneaked a glance at the man next to me again.
"He wasn't as old as I'd first thought. In fact, I pegged him for his late thirties, at the most. One of those old-before-their-time types. He was glancing over at me, too. But, crazy as it sounds, I was no longer interested. I got up and started slowly up the aisle.
"It's an odd feeling, walking up an aisle in the near dark and silently hunting for a man. I saw Ginger sitting next to a guy. They seemed to be watching the screen intensely, but I wondered where his hands were. Then I spotted mine. I walked slowly to the very last row and moved in a dozen seats. As usual, there was no one in the last three rows. Except for him. He was seated about four chairs away from me. I leaned back in the chair, spread my legs apart like some dumb kid who doesn't realize her skirt is now halfway up her crotch, and waited.
"Almost immediately the man got up as if he had to take a leak or something. But I wasn't fooled. I just sat tight until he came back with a box of popcorn. As I knew he would, he sat down right next to me this time.
"He offered me the box of popcorn. 'Would you like some popcorn, little girl? Go ahead. I bought it for you.'
"I nodded and helped myself to the box. It gave me a chance to look at him directly. He was old, with white hair and salt-and-pepper eyebrows. The way he was dressed made me think he was probably retired or something. I stared at his thin lips and wondered if they'd soon be kissing my pussy. I almost choked on the popcorn.
"He patted me on the thigh, a grandfatherly kind of pat. 'You're a very pretty girl,' he whispered, his hand still on my thigh. 'Very pretty.'
"That was my cue, I knew. If I didn't like the hand I could shrug it off and he'd immediately leave me alone. If I did nothing, I could expect to have the old man all over me. I didn't move.
"His soft hand felt warm on my leg. He kept it there awhile, then lifted it and brought it directly to my pussy. The way I was sitting he was able to press directly against my crotch with only my panties barring him from my actual slit. 'A very pretty girl,' he sighed, squeezing.
"I hadn't expected the quick jump to my crotch, but, I had to admit, it felt good. I let him rub me awhile, my eyes slitted toward the screen while my panties began to get damp. He would cup my mound and squeeze, rubbing his palm over the sprinkling of cunt hairs he could feel through my panties, then drop his hand lower, running his fingers between the lips and squeezing the little lips gently. He seemed to love every inch of my pussy. His breathing sounded funny, but the pressure of his hand was stronger than ever.
"He kept playing with me a long time until, finally, almost by accident, his finger slipped inside my panties. I let my eyes close as soon as he had found and entered my hole. He didn't try to go in very far, just maybe half an inch or so, but that felt wonderful. I was all gooey and hot, and I kept remembering last week, and that tongue playing against my slit. I wondered if this man had a car, or if he had a place we could go, or if anyone would be in our clubhouse now. I could imagine that white head down between my thighs. Maybe this man would want me to play with his penis . ...
"I was so caught up in my fantasies I didn't even realize that the man had One hand on me and the other in his own lap. He had the usual sweater thrown over his lap, and he was beating his meat for all he was worth. His finger was hardly moving in me at all now. I moved my hips around a little, as if to remind him, but it was no use. Then the man made a funny sound and hunched over in his seat a bit. When he straightened up, he pulled his hand from my wet crotch. He paused to rearrange his pants under the sweater, then got up and made as if to leave the other way, without so much as a glance in my direction. Anger and the ache in my pussy made me stop him.
" 'I sure hope you have some money, mister. 'Cause if you don't, I'm going to yell my head off about how you grabbed my pussy.' My voice was hard. He wouldn't think I was kidding.
"Well, he panicked, of course, and pulled two dollars from his pocket. 'This is all I have,' he whispered, his eyes wide with terror. He thrust the bills at me.
"After he was gone I looked around, trying to decide what to do. I was on fire. My little pussy was throbbing like mad, and my nipples were stiff and aching. I wished the man I'd met last week would come back. I knew I'd feel that white-hot explosion just as soon as he tongued my hole.
"I found myself looking right into the eyes of a well-dressed man as I turned around. He was standing by the back wall. I had no idea how long he'd been there, but if he'd been there for more than the last minute he must have had a perfect view of my cunt being played with! His eyes were unreadable, though. He looked in his late forties, and was really very nice looking, with a tall, slim body and graying hair. For all I knew, he was the movie manager or something. I didn't want to take any chances. I started towards the lobby.
"But as I breezed by the man, he grabbed my arm. 'Listen, kid ... what's your name?'
"I was so startled by his unexpected question, I answered him.
" 'Well, listen, Elaine, how about we sit down back here and watch this fine show? Come on, sit down. My name's Ken, and I won't hurt you.' He laughed.
"Dazed, and uncertain about this man, I allowed him to ease me into a seat. He sat down next to me and brought his mouth next to my ear.
'"I saw you with that old guy, Elaine, honey. You liked what he was doing to you, didn't you ? ' He kissed my ear. I was glad we were sitting where no one else could see us.
"I nodded faintly. At once he took my hand and brought it to his lap. He had no sweater, but it was dark enough to risk pressing my hand where it wanted to go. Under the fabric of his pants I could feel a rigid bar of flesh, a rubbery skinned length of steel.
" 'That's what watching you did to me, honey. Now what are we going to do about it?'
"The blood was rushing painfully to my ears. Touching his cock was so exciting. I wanted to feel it naked in my hand. Boldly I brought my mouth to his ear. 'Do you like to lick girls down there?'
"He laughed softly, and his prick seemed to grow another half inch. "There's nothing I don't like doing to lovely little ladies like you, Elaine. Nothing at all. Do you have a safe place where we can go? I don't know this neighborhood very well. I'm just passing through town.'
"I nodded, making up my mind. 'Three blocks down, to the right is Adams. Just across the street is an alleyway. Go down the alley until you come to a dirt path leading to a little white house. It's my friend's tool shed. We use it as a playhouse. Will that be okay? No one will be there.'
" 'Can I'm lock the door?' He put his hand on my thigh and rubbed just below my pussy.
"I had the feeling that if I said the tool shed was the local 'cop shoppe,' as us kids called it, he couldn't have cared less. 'Yeah, there's a lock. Do you want me to go first?'
"Ken nodded. 'I'll meet you there in a couple of minutes. Get naked if you get there before me, huh? No, leave your pretty little panties on, on second thought. Oh, baby, I'm going to be so nice to you! If you like getting that little pussy of yours sucked, I'll suck it all day long for you, if you want!'
"His prick was throbbing wildly in my hand now. I wasn't in much better shape. I was almost sick with desire. Without allowing myself to think, I got up, giving his thing a final squeeze. 'Hurry up. I'll be waiting. Do you know how to get there?' The whispering voice didn't sound like my own. It sounded thick and urgent.
"He nodded and I left, my heart racing like mad. I prayed I wouldn't meet any of the others on the way, and that the clubhouse would be empty. There was no reason it shouldn't be-the girls would all be at the show, and we usually went to the ice-cream shop and had malts or something after the movie was over. I figured I had at least an hour and a half without sweating it. At the moment, that didn't seem nearly long enough."
"A blue car passed me slowly as I crossed the street. I watched it turn into the alley and felt another bolt of lightning hit my belly. I continued walking, thinking of how maybe he would undress me now. My knees were weak as I finally reached the tool shed. The blue car was parked down the alley a ways, and I saw a man seated behind the wheel. He was looking ahead, but I suspected he was watching me in the rear-view mirror. I banged on the clubhouse door, just to be sure, then let myself in. Then I closed the door but didn't lock it. We had bought the lock just last week, so that our private talks couldn't be disturbed by anyone without our knowing it. Besides, we kept any extra money we had hidden under the rug. The outside lock was one of those combination things, but the inside one was just a bar. It would do, though, in case anyone did leave early.
"I waited a few minutes, thinking Ken would be right in. But I finally decided that he planned to wait awhile, either to make sure no one else showed up, or maybe to give me time to strip, like he said. I decided to risk it. If any of the others came by, I'd tell them some kind of story.
"I took off my sweater and my skirt, leaving on my panties but kicking off my shoes. There was a cracked mirror on the wall and I glanced nervously at myself. Would Ken like me?
Naked like this it was easy to see my real age. My titties were nice, but very young looking, and my hips were still on the boyish side. My legs still had traces of bruises and scratches, just like a kid. Even so, there was something sexy about my lean body and the lightly-haired pussy that looked kind of womanish. But if I had any doubts, they were gone as Ken stole into the room so silently I hadn't heard him enter.
" 'Beautiful! Elaine, baby, come here. My God, kid, you have any idea what looking at you like this is doing to me?'
"I looked at Ken, pleased that he was good-looking, glad that he liked the way I looked, and eager for him to do something to me. I walked to him slowly, not daring to breathe.
"He took me in his arms and kissed me, slipping his wet tongue halfway down my throat. Boys had kissed me before, at parties and all, but it had never felt like this. I sighed against his mouth as he used his big hands on my tits. There was a ripped old couch in the shed, and Ken pushed me down on it. His mouth went to my nipples, first one, then the other, sucking and nibbling on each before going on to the next. He managed to get most of my tit into his big mouth. It felt good. I could feel his giant prick against my leg and could hardly wait to see it. I wondered if he would try to stick it into me. like the old man last week had warned me about. The thought thrilled and scared me. If he tried, would I let him? What if he forced me? Would it hurt? I'd heard it hurt the first time. But then it was supposed to feel really good.
There seemed to be dozens of things to think about, all of them exciting, but no time to think at all. I was too busy feeling.
"His hand was stealing down my belly towards my pussy. Everywhere his fingers touched me I began to tingle. My breasts where being sucked hard, devoured by this fully dressed man, this stranger more than three times my age. I felt his hands on my panties, playing around the little lace trim. He felt me all over without disturbing my last garment. He felt my flat stomach, my smooth hips, my rounded ass, and at last my hot, aching cunt.
"I gave myself up to his hand as Ken crushed my body against his. He didn't remove his lips from my nipples, but his hand on my pussy now had my full attention. He began to pull my panties off. I was powerless to resist, though I did think it was strange, me completely nude while he remained fully dressed, even down to his shoes.
" 'You beautiful little thing,' he groaned, looking down at my body as he tossed my panties to the floor. 'Do you really like getting that adorable little twat of yours licked? Who licks it for you?'
"I was so excited I could hardly speak. But I managed to answer him. 'A ... a man did it to me last week. It felt so good . ... That's the only time.'
" 'Then here's the second time . ... ' He bent over me and spread my thighs apart.
"I started moaning even before his tongue touched me. He nuzzled his face between my thighs and began kissing my sopping crack.
When he used his tongue it was to scoop out my juices. Then he began to lick the insides of my thighs. It felt good, but not nearly as good as when he brought his mouth to my marble-like clit. I almost jumped out of my skin as he lapped it slowly and thoroughly. I grabbed up a handful of stuffing in the hand that had crept into a big slit in the couch.
"His fingers were on either side, holding the small lips of my pussy open all the way. I was one big throbbing ache. Yet my lips were curved into a beatific smile. A fuzzy thought popped into my mind, about how rarely I smiled or was especially happy. But here, with Ken's mouth on me, I was smiling like mad. Happiness for me, then, was feeling a tongue against my slit. I smiled even harder at the thought. Then I forgot about smiling and everything else. As Ken's hot tongue beat against my clit I felt the first tremors of that white-hot feeling. I held myself very still. A small warning moan erupted from my throat.
"Ken must have sensed what was threatening to occur. He stopped licking me at once and pulled his face away from my cunt.
"I groaned, as if in pain, and begged him not to stop. 'Oh, no, please, mister, please, Ken, don't stop licking me! It feels so good ... please do it some more . ... " He didn't pay attention, yet I know he heard from the way his lip curled into a grin as he unzipped his pants.
"He sat back on the couch and reached into his opened pants. 'Come here, Elaine, baby. Look at this.' He pulled out his big cock.
"I simply stared at it in awe. It was much bigger than I thought it would be, with a large purple head and a thick, red shaft. A jungle of mostly dark hair was at the base of his cock, and I could barely see Ken's big balls. He adjusted himself still more, and out popped those hairy balls, big loose sacks with egg-like things in them I could hardly take my eyes off him. His dick twitched under my gaze, and a drop of something gooey sprang out of the tiny opening in the head.
" 'Play with it, honey. Go on, touch it. It might spit at you, but it won't bite, honest.' He laughed and reached for my hand.
"I let him bring my hand to his cock. It filled my hand good. In fact, my fingers couldn't reach all the way around it. It felt strange, very hard yet very smooth, almost delicate. The velvety skin moved loosely, up and back. Ken seemed to love it most when I coaxed the skin that way. I touched the whitish goo. It felt a lot like my pussy juice. I wondered if it would taste the same. I wondered how a man would taste . ...
"I didn't have to wonder long. Before I knew what he had in mind, Ken pulled me down to my knees between his legs. I felt his hand on my neck before I realized what he wanted me to do to him. Then I didn't have a chance to consider if I wanted to do it or not. I was too busy doing it.
"His prick was pressing urgently against my lips. I opened my mouth by reflex action. He was inside me at once. It was weird, but not unpleasant or anything. He didn't shove it down my throat, or ram it in and out of my mouth. He just sort of sunk it into my mouth and held it there.
" 'Suck it a little, you sweet baby. Just suck my big cock for me. Lick it with your sweet tongue. Just for a minute, darling.' He patted my hair and sighed as I did my best to do as he asked. It was like sucking a gigantic thumb, except for the drops of cream which tasted salty. But I didn't mind. The realization that I was actually doing something I'd only heard kids talk about excited me as much as actually sucking cock. When Ken pulled it out of my mouth I was kind of disappointed. It looked about two inches longer now.
" 'Has anyone ever fucked you, Elaine, honey?' he asked, his voice very thick. 'Has anyone ever stuck his cock up that tight cunt of your?'
"I shook my head nervously. I couldn't have answered for anything. I didn't even know for sure if I hoped he'd fuck me, or feared that he would.
" "Then it's time you were,' he answered shortly.
"I wasn't given time to think at all before I was thrown down none too gently on the couch. Ken fell down on top of me, still fully dressed with his stiff prick hanging out. He put most of his weight on his knees and elbows, but the pressure, from my point of view, was definitely on my spread pussy from the head of his cock. As I felt it press into me my voice returned.
"'Don't, Ken! It will hurt!' Yet even as I protested I was aware that my legs were going up towards the ceiling. His big dick felt wonderful against my tiny slit. A part of me very much wanted Ken to shove himself inside my hole, no matter how much it would hurt.
"Ken kissed my ear, then whispered into it. 'I won't hurt you, honey. I won't even break your little cherry. I just want to put it in a little ways, that's all. Then I want to have you suck my cock some more while I go back to licking your wonderful little cunt. It'll feel good, if you just relax and trust me. I just want to get the head in there ... '
"With that, he began to push gently, nosing the head of his prick into my tight hole. I felt it bucking against my slit and I tried my best to relax. But it hurt, anyway.
"He pushed a moment more, then pulled back, moved forward pulled back again, and pressed gently but firmly. Before I realized what was happening, I felt his cock sink into me a few inches, stopping only when it pressed against a tight inner shield. I groaned, but not with pain.
"He was groaning, too. 'That feels wonderful, honey. Your pussy is so tight, so beautiful. Damn, but I want to shove all of it in you. Let me, sugar, I won't hurt you too much. Let me fuck you good, darling.'
"I don't know where I got the strength to resist. It felt so good, but somehow I didn't want him to bust my cherry. Maybe it would have been different if he hadn't already mentioned how we'd suck each other afterwards. I pushed on his chest and told him not to fuck me. I told him I didn't want to be hurt, that I would not be able to help screaming if he hurt me, and then half the neighborhood would be pounding on the door. That got him.
"His prick was sticking straight out. He looked at it proudly. 'Look at that. You make me feel like a kid again, honey. It's been years since it's stayed up this long. Come on, Elaine, baby, get on that floor and I'll give that beautiful little twat of yours the best licking yet.'
"Trembling, I got down on the floor and waited. Ken got over me, then tumbled to his back, pulling me over on top of him. I was like a rag doll in his big hands, but I didn't fight him. He twisted me around until I was sitting on his face, my ass pointing toward his head, my face pointing toward his feet. His thick cock twitched up towards my lips.
"I screamed softly as his tongue darted between my thighs. He meant business this time. His hot tongue slithered over my box, up over the crack, and directly planted itself next to my clit. He began to whip my clitoris with his pointed tongue, attacking it with a vengeance that seemed to swell his prick even more.
"I remembered my own duties about then, and gladly lowered my face to his standing cock. Out of curiosity I lapped up the new drops of goo on his dick and tasted them. like before, it was salty and thick, and still warm. I wondered what a mouthful would taste like . ...
"He was licking my cunt now like it would be his last chance ever. I knew I couldn't stand much more of it. Already the suggestion of that white-hot come was in the wind. Although I didn't really know how to manipulate Ken's cock with my mouth, I did the very best I could, sucking hard and flicking my tongue over it from top to bottom. I was one big mass of agony, alive and in delicious pain all over as my mouth tasted cock and my cunt was thoroughly explored by his tongue.
"I tried to hold on to the sensations for as long as possible, but it was too much for me. I flexed my thighs around the lapping mouth and sucked frantically on the prick halfway down my throat as the white wave began crashing over and over again in my pulsating womb. I tried to scream but couldn't, and had to settle for letting hot tears stream down my face in ecstasy as I came, then came again....
"I guess my excitement got to Ken. All of a sudden, even while I was still quivering all over, he began to spurt in my mouth! I tasted an ocean of his burning sperm, managed to swallow that without choking, and received still another mouthful. I sobbed as my own final wave exploded, unmindful of the come which trickled from my lips or the big prick which was rapidly shrinking even as I sucked it . ...
"As I dressed myself Ken sat on the couch and watched. He looked much older now, and very tired. It was funny, because what we had done made me glow with life and energy. I felt like I had only begun.
"Finally, before I was all dressed and tidied up, the man got up and reached into his pocket. He handed me a bill. 'Here, honey. What with the couple of bucks I saw that other guy give you, you should be able to see quite a few movies. Maybe I'll catch you again some Saturday....' He kissed me quickly and left.
"I looked down at the ten-dollar bill in my hand. The memory of Ken's big prick pressed up against my slit flashed through my mind as I looked at the money. Maybe the reason I hadn't let Ken fuck me was because I wanted to save that for the next week . ... But as I stared at the money, the aching began all over again. I ran a comb through my hair and headed back to the movies...."
Each time we have encountered the instance of a sexually precocious female, we have noticed a similarity of accounts. It seems not to matter if the early excess-or predisposition toward excess-is assisted toward consummation by some lecherous pedophile, some unsure and gangly youth, or even by an agreeable parent; the nymphet herself invariably exhibits a great sexual curiosity combined with a certain hypersexuality. Reworded, we have yet to encounter a case of female gerontophilia (in this age bracket, at least) where the girl is simply responding to external actions. She is, at some level and in some degree, a sexual aggressoreven when she is too young to fully comprehend her actions.
This is one of the hallmarks of any sexual aberration, be it mild or severe. Whatever outlet the aberration takes, it is usually accompanied by a preoccupation with sex itself. We do not encounter rapists, say, whose attitude is "well, if I were going to have sex at all, I would commit rape in order to achieve it; but the fact is, I'm just not interested at all."
Elaine's preoccupation with sex, in itself, is rather natural. The actual method and degree of the mobilization of these sexual forces, however, is not. As we have earlier stressed, both the pedophile and the gerontophile are suffering from areas of doubt and inadequacy; elements which must be dealt with on a casual level before any real improvement can be expected.