This was really hot. Seemed like the action started going really quickly near the end, but I still very much liked it. Please continue!

>>22606
Op, you should deffinetly continue, since roommates is basicaly dead, and there are no other little girl stories, /elit/ needs this

Yeah, pretty desperate for good loli stuff these days. It seems to be all 18+ or gay crap these days. And this was really good. Definitely want more.

tl;dr - More loli stories, people!

I agree with everyone else, this is the best new story to come up in a while. Looking forward to more, if you're so inclined

I really liked this a lot, OP. Good work. Really hot and decently written.
Agreed with everyone else. We need more loli/jailbait stories.

Also, it was Evangeline Lilly who played the female elf in the Hobbit movies, not Kate Beckinsale.

It had been was a completely random encounter at a crowded mall in a major city. In all likelyhood, I'd never see Andrea again... If I just let things take their natural course.

So instead, I went full blown stalker.

I'd never actually done this before, except for a single cringeworthy crush I'd had in junior high, and I soon realized I was embarrassingly bad at it. For the next few days, I kept imagining one of those CSI type shows where the detectives were trying to track me down, and each time they figured out what I'd done they'd look at one another in bafflement and ask “Is he retarded?” Only half joking.

I'd walked out of the theater high on adrenaline and with most of my blood occupied south of the belt, but by the time I got to my car, both the rush and the boner had faded. I couldnt help but wonder what had possessed me to just up and leave like that. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. I'd imagined my sudden exit would lend me an air of mystery, mischievousness, and would leave her wanting more. Unfortunately I hadn't considered that I also didn't know her phone number, address, or even her last name. I even almost said Kate Beckinsale was playing an elf, when everyone in their right mind knows she was played by the chick from Lost... Something Lilly... Evangeline Lilly! That's it! Seriously, what the fuck had I been thinking?

I sat in my car, waiting for the silver econobox I'd seen the older girl driving. The longer I waited, the more nervous I got. I'd shied away from asking personal questions when I sensed how reluctant Andrea had been to explain why she was at the theater alone. I knew I'd already pushed things too far, too fast, and I'd been hesitant to ask any questions that could destroy the little fantasy we'd both created together, but now the only thing I had to go on was a vague memory of the older girl and the silver car she'd been driving. After about fifteen minutes, I started to have second thoughts. Despite how carefully I'd been watching, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd missed Mousey McGee, or worse, that someone else had come to pick Andrea up, and I hadn't even noticed. I considered going back in a third time, I considered driving off and checking to see if she came back another night. Fortunately, after ten minutes of waffling, I saw a silver Focus drive up to the side exit, and I watched Andrea walk out and hop in. I smiled, and did my best Dexter impersonation.

Tonight's the night!

Except it really wasn't at all. That night, all I managed was some basic recon.

I got close enough to memorize get the make, model, and license plate, then I dropped back to keep at least one car between us whenever possible, like all those spy books I'd read had said you were supposed to do. I didn't think Stubs McKenzie up there was checking her six for familiar headlights, but better safe than sorry. They ended up in a low income neighborhood, a couple steps up from a trailer park. There were several cars parked outside one of the houses. The silver focus joined the little huddle, and the girls got out and went inside.

I parked on the periphery away from any streetlights, and sat back, watching. I felt a bit paranoid sitting there in the street, but no one seemed to pay me any mind. People walked right past me and never gave me a second glance. I wondered if private investigators ever took crap from the neighbors when they were following cheating husbands, or checking for insurance fraud.

Stakeouts are boring as shit, but I had all the time in the world, and a good book to pass the time, and no place I needed to be in the morning. I was starting to think my instincts had been wrong, and that there was no one else coming. I must have fallen asleep sometime, because I woke up around six in the morning, to see a dirty, yellow Neon drive up and park. A red haired, long legged woman in a t-shirt and sweatpants got out and staggered inside a house a couple doors down from the one that Andrea and the other woman had entered. She looked to be in her early to mid thirties, and in amazing shape, especially considering her age. She also didn't seem to be drunk, just really tired, and she walked as though her feet pained her.

The age was right, the coloring matched up. I was intrigued.

I was still tired as fuck, but I forced myself to stay awake for the next three hours. That was when I saw Andrea emerge from the house where she'd stayed the night, walk over to the redhaired woman's house, and use a key to go inside.

Interestinger and interestinger.

I was still missing a lot of pieces, but I was pretty sure I now knew where Andrea lived. I could finally allow myself to go take a nap. After that, I had work to do.

*** *** *****

I didn't bother using proxies when I searched for a GPS tracker. Tor is just so slow, and I figured there were enough jealous husbands and suspicious housewives that this kind of search wouldn't put me on too specific of a watch-list. Besides, I was gonna have to get the bloody thing shipped, and I didn't want to wait to figure out how to do that anonymously. They weren't cheap, but they weren't as expensive as I'd thought they would be, even with the data plan. I ordered several of the type that had the best reviews on Amazon and scheduled them for next day delivery. When they arrived, I drove over to Miss Mousey's apartments, popped it up under her silver Focus, just like I'd seen them do in Breaking Bad, and watched it fall to the asphalt, unceremoniously.

I immediately started berating myself for not testing it on my fridge, or with my keys, or something. I should have known that it wasn't magnetic. I picked it up, and shuffled away, trying to look nonchalant while my heart thumped with adrenaline and my face burned with embarrassment. If they ever make the story of my life into a movie, I should probably be played by Rowan Atkinson, despite the physical dissimilarity.

Fortunately, the same company that made the devices also made a magnetic case. I paid the exorbitant next-day shipping cost once more, thankful that I'd had little college debt, no wife, no kids, and largely inexpensive tastes for most of my life. I also made some impulse buys in the adult section of Amazon while I was at it, because why not? Those actually ran me a good bit more than the tracking devices with cases and shipping included, but it still barely even put a dent in my savings, more of a scratch really, and it never hurts to be prepared.

Unfortunately, I had to work the next day, and the shipping company apparently didn't want to leave a small mountain of packages on my front porch, for some odd reason. They left a note instead, and all the money I'd spent on next-day delivery pretty much went in the shitter. I called their office and arranged to pick up my packages at one of their offices during lunch, which put an end to that little farce, and I finally managed to get a tracking device on the Silver Focus that night. I'd planned to get one on Andrea's mother's car as well,

I was worried that I was spending too much time in the neighborhood, and that someone was bound to take notice, so thought back that first stakeout, figured out where Andrea's mother must have entered the neighborhood, and waited along the main road for her to show up. Her car was cheap, but pretty distinctive, so even though I was deep into a good chapter of the new book, I still noticed her pulling out of the neighborhood. From there, it was a simple thing to follow her to a restaurant and plant the tracker under her sedan while she was inside picking up her food.

I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty much the greatest stalker in the world.

Despite my screwups, I'd gotten both trackers on the cars, and I'd managed to do it without being spotted, so team pedo!

I set up the tracker to notify me when the silver Focus got close to Andrea's house or the movie theater, and went about the rest of my work week trying not to check their positions every ten seconds. I studied their movement patterns obsessively when I got home, of course, and I even checked out some of the locals for myself, but I didn't really learn much of anything. The silver Focus mostly split its time between the house and a local office building. Andrea's mom got not only their name, but their address, phone numbers, VIN, and vehicle class and type, all for just a couple bucks.

The girl in the silver Focus was named Janie Mill, and Andrea's mother was listed as Melinda Burke.

This information let me extend the stalking to the online realm. This was more comfortable territory. There were plenty of guides to help as well, so before long, I'd created fake profiles, gathered enough friends to not seem suspicious just by sending out a ridiculous number of invites to people who looked like the type to accept anyone. Once I got a few friends in common, I sent friend invites to my targets. Janie accepted right away, which didn't surprise me at all. She had almost three thousand friends. No one knows that many people personally. I thought Melinda had ignored my first invite, and was trying to get another fake account set up, this time with more friends and family in common, but right as I was getting started, she accepted my first invite. I guess she was just didn't check it as religiously.

Sifting through their pages and photos was a tedious process, and I didn't really find out all that much. Melinda's page listed her profession as “dance instructor,” and I didn't see any evidence of recent relationships. She had some pics of her out partying with a number of pretty women ranging from early twenties to mid forties, and for a moment I wondered if she might be a lesbian, but that never seemed to fit. When I got the tracking data, and realized that Melinda was spending her weekdays at a strip club downtown, the pieces fell into place.

Whatever else she was, Melinda did seem to be a genuinely loving parent. It would have been easier on my conscience if she was a vapid shrew, but the more I dove into her facebook posts, the more I started to like this woman. Her albums were primarily comprised of pics of Andrea, and her taste in music, books, and movies were all quite excellent. She had a very pragmatic view of the world, but her sense of humor actually got me laughing out loud at some of her posts. I genuinely liked this stripper. I mean, I was still going to diddle her daughter, but that didn't change my admiration.

Janie, on the other hand, showed definite stoner tendencies. She didn't have 420blazeit! Splashed across everything, but there was plenty of paraphernalia in her candid shots. She worked in the office of a non-profit organization that seemed rather disreputable, based on the quick google search I did. Still, I guess everyone has to make a living. She was in a relationship, and was living with the guy.

I had a lot more questions than answers by the time Friday night rolled around again, but I felt I'd made good progress. That night, I tried to do anything to distract me from staring at the GPS like Kim Jong Un looks at cake. It was only a couple hours after work when I heard the little notification that told me Janie's car was at Andrea's house, . Fifteen minutes later Melinda's car drove off towards the strip club, and Janie's went straight towards the mall. I allowed myself a Napoleon Dynamite style “yusssssss!” as I fumbled for my keys, grabbed a manbag that is most definitely not a purse, and walked out the door.

They had a head start, but I caught a glimpse of Andrea disappearing down the right hallway while I was buying my ticket. That narrowed the search considerably, and this time I found her on the first try. I braced myself, and started up the stairs. She finally noticed me when I got halfway up, and I held my breath. This was the moment of cliché, and I paid careful attention to her reaction, looking for any sign of suspicion or dread. Fear I could handle, mistrust even, but if she looked angry or betrayed then I'd probably have to abandon this whole scheme.

Fortunately, my worrying had all been for nothing, because her face lit up like a goddamned Christmas tree, and she waved me over. I relaxed, and finally allowed my focus to widen beyond checking her expression, watching for angry looking men in uniform, and ensuring I had a clear exit strategy. She was wearing a not-quite skintight green striped longsleeve tshirt with jean shorts that showed off her deliciously slender thighs. Unfortunately, the seating situation was not exactly ideal. This was a new release, so the theater was quite a bit more crowded than last time. There were almost thirty minutes to go until showtime, but there were already several other people on the row, and a good number of people behind. Not ideal at all, and the situation would only get worse the closer we got to showtime. Still, I couldn't really complain. I was just happy I'd been able to find her again, and that wide, beaming grin had dazzled all my anxieties into submission.

I grinned back and started up the steps. I sat down, handed over one of the bottles of water I'd been carrying, and proffered my bag of popcorn in her general direction. She smiled distractedly, and grabbed a handful, but she was looking around while she munched.

“Expecting someone else?” I asked. I kept my tone lighthearted, but depending on her answer I was prepared to bolt if need be.

“No, Mr. Mark.” Goddamn, this girl was polite for a stripper's daughter.

I laughed. “You don't have to say the Mr. if you don't want. Just Mark is fine.”

She finally looked fully at me, and smiled, embarrassed. “That sounds funny.”

I thought for a second. “Alright, how about Uncle Mark? Is that better?”

“You're my uncle?”

Ah, youth. “No, but you can call me Uncle if you think it sounds better.”

“Oh! Ok, I can do that, I guess.” She ate another handful of popcorn, still looking around.

“Is something wrong?”

“Mr... I mean, Uncle Mark?” I was glad the theater was noisy and no one seemed to have been close enough to hear, but I smiled and gave her an interested look. “I... um. Sometimes, when a movie is boring...” She looked ashamed at this point. “I sneak out and go watch a different movie.”

I smiled at her. “That's pretty smart. I was a lot older than you before I ever thought of that trick.”

Once again, blatant flattery seemed to be the way to go. She flashed me a wicked grin, obviously pleased. She obviously had something else on her mind, though. “I just... I think... I think this movie is probably going to be boring.”

“Oh is it now?”

“I think so.”

I adopted a considering tone, “Well, I know you know a lot about movies. If you think this one's going to be boring, maybe we should go watch a different one.”

She tried to nod seriously, but the effect was ruined by her irrepressible grin. She grabbed her bottle and skipped down the stairs, checking every couple of steps to make sure I was still following. When we got out into the hall she looked back and asked me “Which movie do you want to see, Mr... I mean, Uncle Mark?”

“You can call me Mr. Mark if it feels better. I don't really care.”

“Nooo! You're Uncle Mark!”

“Well, if you insist.”

“So what movie you wanna watch?”

“You're the expert, I'll let you pick.”

Again, this was obviously the right answer. She skipped through the hallways with the confidence of familiarity, checking the signs and showtimes outside the rooms. Finally she came to a door and said “What about this one.”

I was surprised, despite myself. This movie mostly existed as an excuse to have pretty young naked things up on the screen. Too tame to be porn, but too dumb to be good for anything else. I grinned down at her and said, “Wow! Have you seen this one already?”

She gave me a proud, challenging look, and said “Uh huh!” As though daring me to deny it.

“Did you like it?”

She tried to maintain her defiant look, though I sensed just a tiny bit of uncertainty when she nodded in the affirmative.

“That's really cool!” I said, smiling at her, “We can definitely watch it if you want...” I said, and watched her smile start to widen. “But...” I said, thoughtfully “It would definitely be a problem if people saw us together in there. We should probably sit in different rows.” I started walking in as I said this, as though it were a done deal, and I held my breath.

Fortunately, I heard her say “Wait!” and I looked back, as though surprised. She looked thoughtful for a second. “We couldn't sit together?”

“It just wouldn't be a good idea, little one. If they saw me taking you in there, they wouldn't like it.” I left the “they” nebulous.

“Oh, right.” Just as I suspected, she didn't have to ask why. She was pretty clever, this one. I watched her think for a moment, then she grinned up at me. “But my uncle might take me to see a kids movie, right?”

“You know, he just might!”

“Alright, this way!” She said, and led me back the way we'd come. It was the same movie as we'd watched last time, though a different theater. It was set to start a little after the other film had been, so we were the first ones in after the cleaning crew. Andrea made a beeline for the back corner, and I let her walk in front so I could watch her ass move in those shorts that were not quite Daisy Dukes, though they definitely toed the line.

We sat down, and I set my manbag (it's not a purse, damnit!) on the seat next to me. We went through the normal routine of opening drinks, eating popcorn, turning our phones to vibrate, etc. Though, we were glancing sidelong at one another and smiling a lot more than normal.

I had hoped against hope that we might end up in an empty theater, but sure enough, once we got closer to showtime, a mother-son combo came in, and after them a couple full families. They all sat up near the front or middle though, so because of the angle and since this wasn't true stadium style seating, none of them could see much of anything below my neck.

Andrea was still fiddling with her phone, but she couldn't have been paying much attention because she kept looking up at me, then looking away as soon as she saw I'd noticed. It even became a game, I'd pretend to be looking somewhere else, then turn towards her suddenly. She'd snap her eyes back down to her phone and open a different game. We did that a couple more times, then I held my hand out for her phone. She hesitated a moment, and I waited patiently. Finally she came to a decision and said “Trade.” And held out her own hand. I smiled, pulled my own phone out of my pocket and unlocked the screen for her. She immediately looked through my apps, and started trying out my games. I smiled and got to work.

The phone opened up in a modified main page that was obviously some kind of child-lock. There was a list of approved apps, mostly games and the phone, but no internet and no store. Not a bad little system. I could probably overcome it if I fiddled with it for a while, but I figured it was probably better to leave it alone. I brought up the phone function, and entered in the number of the prepaid burner phone I'd bought. I'd driven a couple counties away and used cash to buy the the damned thing, which was probably unnecessary, but that was how I'd seen them do it on the Wire.

If you can't tell by now, everything I've learned in life, I've gotten from TV and books. Anyone with any real knowledge of this stuff would probably laugh their ass off at my “precautions,” either because of how unnecessary they are, or how pointless, but there are worse things in the world than being a bit ridiculous.

I named the contact “Marcelline,” and explained what I was doing to Andrea. She lit up, “Like a girl's name for Mark?” She asked, and I nodded. There were enough contacts in her phone that I figured one more girl's name wouldn't be noticed except by the most hyperprotective parent. Once I finished, I called my phone so I'd have her number in my system. She saw the incoming call and picked up the phone.

“Hello, who is this?” She asked in a super serious voice while glancing up at me and fighting back a smile.

“This is the movie police. We hear you've been sneaking out of your theater and going to movies you didn't pay for!”

“There's no movie police!” She said, putting down the phone with an exasperated expression.

I kept talking into her phone. “Yes there are, and we're coming to lock you up.”

“Janie will just pay for another ticket when she gets back.”

“Not good enough. You're going to jail!”

“Fine, then, Uncle Mark will buy me another ticket.”

I held my hand over the phone. “Don't bring me into this kid, you're on your own.”

“Hey!” she said, holding the phone to her chest.

I got back on the phone. “It was her all along, coppers! She's the one you want! She was the one who made me go to another movie! I didn't want to do it, but she threatened me. She beats me terribly.” At that, Andrea actually did start whacking me on the arm. “You see what I mean? She's a beast! She's crazy! I think she's going to kill me so I can't testify!”

Andrea put on her best angry face, wrapped her hands around my throat, and shook my head back and forth. I went with the motion, then flopped my head back and let my hand fall to my lap, careful not to jostle her phone. I ended the call, then played dead for a while. When I finally looked up, Andrea was still on my phone, searching the internet.

I saw what she was typing, and nearly panicked. I managed to stop her from hitting enter, but “boy who is naked” was all typed in in the search window, ready to go.

“Careful, there.” I said, laughing. “You're gonna get me put on a watchlist.” To tell the truth, I was probably already on one, what with the NSA knowing everything about everyone, but I didn't need her adding “boylover” to my file. She looked at me uncomprehending, and I rushed to explain things to her. I don't think she understood exactly why I'd stopped her, but she seemed mollified enough when I offered to help her look up whatever she wanted to see.

Which was Dicks, apparently. Lots and lots of dicks. Big dicks, little dicks, erect dicks, floppy dicks. Dicks of every shape and size under the sun, she couldn't get enough of them. She laughed at some, eeeeewed at others, and asked me a hundred questions how, when, why, and what.

And so I played the role of sex-ed teacher. I started answered her questions and brought up new searches to illustrate what I was talking about. Blowjobs, cunnilingus, 69, vaginal, we covered all the basics. For half an hour I explained sperm, ovaries, puberty, pregnancy, childbirth, condoms, everything I could manage. I tried to explain it openly, honestly, and in such a way that she could understand. I've had this talk before, and I've gotten pretty good at it. Thirty minutes isn't enough time to explore every detail, but we got the basics covered pretty well. She'd already had a rough understanding, but I was able to confirm her suspicions, explain the lingo, and correct her mistaken assumptions.

I did make a point to get her good and scared about pregnancy, and once I had, I started bringing up a few of my very favorite anal vids, some tender and loving, some rough and dominating, but the one shared feature throughout each of the vids was that the girl was obviously and visibly into it.

I acted as though this were just part of the talk. I didn't mention anything special about the videos, in fact I talked less about them than I had all the others we'd seen. Sure enough, her curiosity took over.

“What's that?”

“Oh, it's anal sex. Some people like to do it because you can't get pregnant that way.” Unless the cum drips down into the vagina somehow, but why confuse the issue?

“Isn't that dirty.”

“Not most of the time.” I wasn't really sure of the exact statistics, so it could be the truth. Who knows?

“Does that feel good?”

“Depends on the person. Looks like she likes it. I hear it takes some getting used to.”

“But you don't get pregnant?” A confirmation? A sign of interest perhaps? I did my best to still act casual.

“Sperm has to go in the vagina to get you pregnant.”

“But I can't get pregnant until puberty, right? When I start to bleed?”

“Well, generally, yeah, but you can never be sure when that's going to happen. Some girls start going through puberty at six.” I had no idea whether or not that was true, but I could always write that off as “something I heard somewhere.” “And you can get pregnant before you have your first period. I think the youngest mom on record was nine, or something. It was really bad for her.” I thought I remembered reading something about that on wikipedia, and I'm sure pregnancy would be pretty damned bad for a nine year old, so I didn't feel it was an outright lie. “Besides, the vagina isn't really ready for sex until puberty anyway.” It felt a little odd sharing something in common with the social norm, at least on this particular issue.

“Because it's like how boobs grow?”

“Exactly.” I felt I'd planted the seed, but I wanted to avoid the appearance that I was trying to push her towards anything, especially since that was exactly what I was doing.

The lights went down and the previews started, but we kept on watching porn on my phone. I tried to make it a highlights reel, thirty seconds from one clip, a minute of the next, just a taste then move on. I did my best to make it look like I was trying to show her everything, but I carefully steered her away from anything too rough. I showed her vids were everyone was obviously having fun, and especially amateur vids with real orgasms. We watched happy bondage where the girl smiled as she was tied up and pushed around, where she enthusiastically deepthroated her master's dick, and swallowed his cum, fingering her own ass the whole time just to have something in there. I avoided threesomes, double penetrations, and gangbangs, because I'm selfish and didn't want to start her thinking about bringing in a third party.

So yes, I shamelessly did everything in my power to imprint my own fetishes on her developing mind. It might seem like I was a bit ass obsessed, which to be fair, I am. It's more a mental thing for me than physical. In practice, it's a pain in the ass, metaphorically speaking. It requires a lot more effort and planning to do right, can be a real mess if it goes wrong, and most girls are adamantly against it by default. I don't do begging in general, and I don't argue with people about it. If they're not into it, that's fine, and it's not a big deal. However, there is simply nothing sexier than a girl who actually wants to be fucked in the ass. It's the hot fudge on the sundae (imagery not intended), the jelly in the donut (why do these sound so sexual?), the bacon on the loaded baked potato. All of those things are just fine without, that last finishing touch. Fantastic, even. They're perfectly worthy on their own merits... It's just a little last bit of something that bumps the experience up from great to incredible. I know I've been talking about it a lot, but there's it's a difficult thing to describe.

I didn't want her to reluctantly try anal for my sake. I wanted to bring her along so she came to crave it.

When the movie started, I checked the theater over once more, but no one else had come in, and everyone in front was focused on the screen. There were no entrances or exits that could open up anywhere that could see us, and even if someone were working in the projection booth they'd never see us at this angle.

I pulled Andrea on my lap, and she complied, unresisting, her entire attention on my phone's screen. I took the phone and put on one of my old favorites, a nice long oil massage that escalates slowly to sex by gradual degrees. It was a forty minute video and I let it run from the beginning. I rubbed her arms and shoulders, just letting her body get reacquainted with my hands while the girl on my phone climbed onto the table and under the sheets. As the masseuse worked, I rubbed Andrea's, stomach, massaged her back, shoulders, and neck, and planted little kisses on her temples, ears, and neck. The usual slow seduction.

The massage went on for a solid twenty minutes before it ever even became the slightest bit inappropriate. Unlike most massage videos, the guy had excellent technique, and he'd never ventured too far under the sheet. Now, though, he ventured further. His hands began to brush the sides of her breasts, to travel further up her thighs. The sheet got folded back again and again over the course of the next ten minutes until its presence was a mere formality. Similarly, I allowed my hands to brush across where her nipples must be. When I slid my hands between her thighs, she parted them wide to give me access, never taking her eyes off the phone.

When the masseur gave up pretense, I reached into my bag of tricks that didn't even resemble a purse and pulled out a few of the toys I'd bought off Amazon over the past week. I started with a vibrating egg, which I traced all over her body. She squirmed away from it at first, laughing, but I wasn't trying to tickle her. I held it tight against her neck, her back, her chest, letting her get used to the sensation. When she started actually leaning into it, I slid it down her body, slowly. I held it against her nipples in turn, or at least where I guessed they must be, against her belly button, though that made her squirm even worse than before, and down, and down, and down. I held it just under her belt for several minutes, forcing the vibrations deep between her hips. Slowly, so slowly, I slid it down, and down, and down again, until finally I was pressing it between her spread legs. The girl on screen was sucking the guy off now, and he had two fingers inside her going to town.

Andrea was panting now, and I could taste the salt of her sweat on her neck as I nuzzled and licked. She was still holding my phone, still looking at it as much as she could, but her head kept lolling back. I unbuttoned her shorts, pulled down the zipper, then reached over to my bag, pulled out another egg, pressed the button to start it vibrating, and slipped it inside her panties, eventually replacing the egg I was holding over her shorts. Once that was firmly in place, I tugged slowly at her shorts until they came down to mid thigh, then I slipped them completely off her legs and placed them on the chair where she'd been sitting. It was more risk than necessary, but I wanted the danger, wanted her to feel more exposed, more vulnerable. I couldn't help but imagine someone starting to walk up the stairs unexpectedly, the mad, desperate scramble to get her clothed again. It made me even harder than before, and I pressed her against it, now separated only by my clothes and her panties. I'd pushed her with the hand I was using to hold the egg securely in her panties, which had pressed the egg even harder against her clit. Her thighs snapped shut, and she trembled in my arms, head completely back over my shoulder now, throat so vulnerable and exposed that it was all I could do not to take a bite out of it. It was hard, so very hard not to lose control and leave a mark, but that was something I absolutely could not afford. I restrained myself, but only just.

Her moaning might have become a problem if we came to a sudden quiet part of the movie, so I clamped one hand over her mouth, forcing her to breath desperately through her nose. I took my other hand from between her legs and used it to pull a few more goodies out of my bag. It's not easy managing a bottle of lube one handed, but I managed to get a nice dollop on my fingers without spilling everywhere. I adjusted her position a bit, slipped my lubed up hand down the back of her panties, and started getting everything good and wet. She was squirming a bit now, but I still had my hand over her mouth, and the vibrator was still doing a number on her clit. At this point, she literally couldn't say no.

Sometimes, I can be a real bastard.

I reached over for the training sized buttplug I'd pulled from the bag, lubed it up, put it in her pants, and slowly slipped it inside her. It was barely bigger than my pinkey finger, and her ass practically sucked it all the way in once I got it past the outer ring. Once I had it in, I focused on bringing her up for another orgasm. This was the crucial moment, and I had to solidify the good associations I'd carefully built in her mind. I slid her shirt off and put it with her shorts, then I suckled her nipples, which were even a bit erect, despite her young age. I took the egg away, slipped her out of her panties then slipped down to my knees, turned around, and placed her on the edge of the chair right where I'd just been sitting. We were in the middle of an action scene, so I didn't bother covering her mouth, and I just dove in to her pussy. She rocketed back up almost immediately, and couldn't seem to decide what to do with her hands. She was writhing on the seat, which was wiggling the plug around in her ass, and I was wrapping her clit with my tongue, smothering it, engulfing it with a sensation completely different from the fingers or vibration she'd felt up til now. I looked up and saw she was trying to cover her mouth with her hands, trying to stifle the cries. I wadded up her panties and stuffed them in her mouth, never easing up on her clit the whole time. When the action scene was over, I eased up. I lifted her up, sat down, and pulled her into my lap. She was still wearing nothing but the panties in her mouth, the plug in her ass, and the shoes on her feet, and she lay against my chest, panting while I held her close and scanned the theater for any sign that we'd been noticed.

That had been stupid, no doubt about it. But once again, we'd gotten away with it. I tried to convince myself that I wouldn't do something like that again, but something about this girl just drove me nuts. I knew the risks but somehow, when I was with her, I just didn't care.

I had to find some privacy with this girl before I did something even dumber.

That was a problem for another night, though. For now, I just held her while she came down, enjoying the pressure of her body on my cock. I also noticed that even though I wasn't restraining her anymore, she made no move to take out the buttplug.

Idly, I grabbed her arms just below the elbow, and started flopping them around. I touched her nose, her stomach, her legs, and even her “boobs.” I could feel her giggling through the vibrations in her body, though they weren't really audible. I slid my hand over hers, and put it between her legs, but she squirmed away.

“It hurts, a little.”

“Did I hurt you?” I asked, concerned.

She thought a moment. “Maybe. It felt really good, but now it hurts if I touch it.”

“So it's sore?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Alright, fair enough.” I said, and we lay together watching the movie for a bit.

“Are you gonna stick your thing in me now?”

I smiled. She asked the question so matter of factly. “Not for a while, at least. Your body's not ready for it yet.”

“Ok.” She said, and we sat together a while longer. “It feels weird.”

“It's just saying hi. It likes you a lot.”

She giggled. “Hi, Mr. Weiner.”

I flexed my PC muscles to make my boner jump a bit, lowered my voice and said “Hello little one.”

“I'm not little.”

“You're little to me.” I said, shrugging.

“Yeah, but I'm bigger than him.” She said, reasonably.

“Good point.”

We shared another moment of silence.

“Being naked feels nice.” She said, idly.

“Mmmmhmm.” I agreed.

“This thing in my butt feels weird.”

“Mmmmmhmm.” I said, noncommittally.

“I feel like I need to poop.”

“Try to hold off on that.”

“I know. It just feels like it is all.” Another pause, and then, “I wish we could do this every day.”

“That would be fun.”

“Yeah, this is way better than before. I don't even mind seeing the same movie over and over anymore.”

“Do you always come to the movies alone?”

“Not always. Janie used to come with me.” She frowned, and seemed conflicted, but didn't say anymore. I wanted to ask about that whole situation, but I didn't want her to get in the habit of divulging secrets, so I changed the subject. The conversation wandered around in harmless territory for a while.

When the last action scene came, I told her to stand on my knees, and I took the butt plug out. She was fully visable now, and completely exposed if someone came in or turned around, but no one looked away from the action on screen. I used some baby wipes to make sure she was spic n' span, wiped off the toy, and put everything away in plastic baggies to deal with later. Then I leaned in and rimmed her until the good guy defeated the bad guy, and everyone on screen started celebrating.

I helped her put her clothes on as the movie wound down, and this time I didn't run off early. She confirmed that she was here every Friday, and we agreed to meet up in the arcade next time. We even risked a quick hug in the hallway before I walked out to my car.

*** *** *****

The next day I got the photos from the private investigator I'd hired to tail Janie. He got her dropping off Andrea at the movies, walking back to her car and driving away. He had then tailed her to a shady looking house. The guy told me he'd looked into it, and the house was a fairly well known drug hotspot. Janie had emerged a couple hours later, kissed a couple guys, neither of whom were her boyfriend, and walked off.

I wondered if her boyfriend knew how she scored cheap drugs. I was fairly positive Melinda didn't know, which meant Andrea was accustommed to keeping secrets from her mom.

I decided I'd just hold on to the photos for now. I didn't see how exposing Janie would help me, at least not at the moment, and I didn't think I could safely blackmail her into dropping Andrea off at my place, or anything. I mean, who knows, she might go for it, but I could also think of a thousand ways for it to backfire. Still, it was nice to have options. After all, I was going to need to move this beyond the theater, and sooner rather than later.

>>22620
Awesome second (chapter?)... whatever man, that was awesome. Hope to see more from you

To be honest, I should have waited to post this until I could give it a rested once over. I talk about going Andrea's and Janie's apartments, even though they live in houses, I somehow seem to have edited out a whole paragraph about looking up the license plate numbers online, but the sentence about what info I got get jammed onto another paragraph with no context. I'm sure I made a lot of other mistakes in the same vein. Hopefully they won't be too much of a distraction. I had a pretty hard time getting everything set up for how I want the story to go, so I was too tired to proof properly.

>>22623
A great installment, OP. I'm really liking where this is going. And don't worry too much about those smaller details. I didn't think they were too distracting.
And it's always okay if you wanna take a little more time to be comfortable with your work before posting. As long as the content is good, it's worth the time.
Keep up the good work, OP.

>>22623
The vehicle lookup was maybe a little confusing, but not bad enough to really break the flow of the story. That was really the only glaring thing. Overall it was an awesome installment.

If you really wan't to be able to edit them, did you ever look into hosting on either asstr or Loliwood Studios?

>>22633

I actually created an author's account at ASSTR after my last story, but I've been too lazy to put my stories up. I've been telling myself I'd get around to it for weeks, but I just haven't made the time. Maybe I'll just put up the stories as-is, and then edit them if I feel like it later, or even find someone else to do it for me.

Have I mentioned I'm a lazy bastard?

I stopped smoking the next day. Rather, I should say, I continued not smoking. I pretty much only ever smoke when I'm drinking, and it had been two weeks since I'd gone out with the people from work. Brian looked surprised when I waved off the proffered cigarette, but seemed genuinely happy for me when I told him I was trying to quit. I did stay out and enjoy the smell, though. I've always thought fresh cigarette smoke was oddly pleasant, though there are few things more foul than stale cigarette smoke. The next day I went to the farmer's market and picked up a bunch of fresh fruit.

Brian smiled when he saw me snacking on Pineapple at work on Monday, and I knew he'd already put two and two together. I just smiled at him and waggled my eyebrows cartoonishly. He came over and teased me a bit, he didn't pry. Instead, he told me about a forum post he'd read about a special recipe. We looked it up and I agreed it looked interesting. Once I got off work, I went to the local health store and overpaid for small amounts of l-arginine, zinc, pygeum, and lecithin. I just got enough to tide me over for a week or so, then went home to buy more in bulk from cheap online suppliers.

I figured I'd sufficiently cleared the pipes by Wednesday, so I held off fapping for the next couple of days so I'd be ready on Friday. I downloaded all my favorite deepthroat videos to have ready to go for tutorial purposes, then enjoyed the sensation of building pressure as I waited in gentle anticipation for Friday.

So of course, when we met up, there were no sufficiently empty theaters. Several new releases had pushed our movie out of the time slot we needed, and none of the age-appropriate showings had the kind of space like we'd had last time. We might have been able to get away with some quick, paranoid sucking if we were willing to take a big risk, but that was hardly ideal. Even if we didn't get caught, that wasn't the kind of environment I wanted for taking her first virginity. I wanted to be able to teach her, coach her along, let her ask questions and watch videos for inspiration.

So instead, I took her to the movie she'd wanted to see last week. Even this early, the theater was starting to fill up, but we found a few seats to ourselves. I asked her if she'd taken a number two before she came, like I'd told her she should, and she nodded her head, embarassed, but still smiling. I smiled back, and pulled out the lube a new butt plug. It wasn't really all that big as these things go, I'd chosen the smallest one that fit my requirements, but it was still a good bit larger than the last one I'd used, and she was just so tiny that it was really quite a step up for her. For a moment I hesitated, wondering if I should get the smaller size, wondering if I should try and explain the situation, wondering if I should ask her opinion, even her permission. I generally trust my ability to read a girl's reactions so I can avoid breaking the fantasy with questions, but I didn't have time to prep her like I wanted, and this was definitely going to hurt if I went through with it. I decided I definitely should just go back to the size I knew she could take. That was the best compromise. That's what I should do. That's what I would do. Definitely... definitely.

I felt a little bad when I saw her start wincing when I only had the newer, larger plug halfway in, but she kept up her part of the act the whole time, pretending to show me something on her phone. Honestly, the new plug seemed even bigger now that I was holding her, feeling just how narrow her hips really were, but I didn't stop pushing, and she neither complained nor tried to writhe away. Her body tried to force me out, but that was purely involuntary, and I kept up a steady pressure so the lube could do most of the work. Finally, the thickest part of the plug got past the sphincter, her contracting ring actually helped pull the rest in more quickly. She shifted on her seat, trying to find a way to sit, then looked up at me, still uncomfortable but obviously proud. I smiled back, but a family was walking up the stairs next to us, so I couldn't really say anything. I pulled my hand out of her panties and rubbed her back affectionately while we watched youtube videos.

When the previews started, I handed her an egg and had her put it down the front of her panties. Fortunately, I'd taught Andrea enough about the physiology that she was able to understand my instructions and get herself situated. Once she had it nestled on her clit, I clicked the remote and started the egg buzzing. I'd tested a lot of models, but this had by far been the best combination of power, battery life, and most importantly, silence. Even though I was sitting right next to her, I could barely hear the thing, even during the silences between previews. If I hadn't known what it was, and hadn't heard it change pitch when I changed the setting, I doubt I'd have noticed it at all. Even if I had I'd have written it off as static from the speaker.

When the movie started, I pulled out the other remote and started the butt plug vibrating as well. It was louder, so I only turned it up during the exciting, noisy bits of the movie, which also served to keep people from noticing how she squirmed next to me. We had the armrest raised, and she was planted against my side, as though trying to touch as much of her body to mine as we could get away with. I played with the toys speeds, and even left them idle for long stretches, which kept her in suspense, helped her regain sensitivity, and also helped save on battery life. Triple whammy. The first egg ran out of juice around halfway through the movie, so we switched it out. The plug, on the other hand, used AAA batteries, and had plenty of juice to last through the movie. That was the main reason it was so big, well, that and the vibration mechanism.

When the movie ended, we sat through the credits until most everyone had left, then carefully removed the plug. It had been in there a good while, and the lube had pretty much broken down. I had her lay across my lap, and dripped lube around the base, then worked it gently back and forth until it was slippery enough for me to start twisting it around a bit. Rinse and repeat, so to speak, until I was finally able to twist it any which way I pleased with barely any resistance. I wished I could have seen Andrea's face while I did that, but she just lay there, docile as you please, and let me work. It only took about a minute in all, and I was able to bring it right out without making her jump or tremble, so I took that as a good sign. She waited while I wiped everything down, bagged everything up, and kissed her little bottom. She wobbled a bit when she stood up and pulled up her pants, but didn't seem too much worse for wear. We were talking about going in to another movie to wait, but Janie texted that she was outside and that was that.

*** *** *****

After that session, I started expanding my grooming process beyond the theater. Andrea was a surprisingly adept texter, considering her age, and we'd been messaging one another fairly regularly during the week between our second and third movie night. All hail the information age. I'd kept everything tame, and played the part of a friend from school. However, when we'd met, I'd finally been able to check her phone and ensure that yes, she did know how to delete messages properly. It wouldn't save me in a court of law, where they'd probably just pull the messages from some archived copy somewhere, but it would at least keep her mom from noticing anything strange.

The week before, I'd let her lead these conversations because I figured she was better at knowing what almost-eight year old girls would text about, and I continued to let her decide our topics even after we'd dropped the pretense, and started having real conversations. When we were together in the theater, I worked hard to set the pace because it was important to get her accustomed to following my suggestions without question. I didn't ask permission before I did things to her because I wanted to forge her ideas about sexuality myself, and I didn't want her head getting in the way. So long as I made sure she felt good, pavlovian conditioning would take care of the rest.

These conversations were a part of that process, but here it was all about the head, what she was thinking, what her opinions were on things what she liked and didn't like. It helped me get to know what was important to her, and at the same time it helped her feel closer to me. We didn't talk about sex unless she brought it up, and even then, I didn't overtly direct the conversation. I didn't have to. Like before, I never lied to her, but I did slant my answers to help her come to the conclusions I wanted.

On Monday, I showed her how to get around her phone's child safety program, and we spent the next hour just searching for porn together. She'd tell me what she wanted to see, and I'd help her with wording the search. I took a risk and didn't tell her about incognito mode for a couple weeks, because I was interested to see what she searched for when I wasn't around to help.

“What do people mean when they say something like around second base?” I actually remembered making an offhand comment about rounding second base some other time.

“What is second base?”

“How do I lick a penis good?

“What do boys like when I lick his penis?”

“How do I not hurt a boys penis with my mouth?”

“Blowjob”

“How do I blowjob good?”

“How do I practice blowjob”

“How do I make mom buy bannanana”

“How do I make mom buy bananas.”

“Banana health facts”

There were plenty of other searches, but I did notice that particular trend showing up most often. I guess I wasn't the only one here with a one track mind.

I wiped her history, cache, and cookies, showed her how to use incognito mode, and made her promise to use that whenever she was on the internet from then on. Her mom could probably find out her daughter was using the internet if she looked at the data usage on her phone bill, but at least this way she wouldn't know what she was looking at.

*** *** *****

I tried to find an opportunity for Andrea to put her internet searches into practice for the next three Fridays, but they were frustratingly similar to the last. There was never a theater as empty enough to risk either of us actually taking any clothes off, or even just letting Mr. Happy out for a jaunt in the open air. All I was able to do was continue training her with vibrators. She had learned to take the larger butt plug like an absolute champ, and could even put it in herself now, if need be. I still hadn't had a fap and was getting more than a little frustrated. Just being close to her, smelling her, feeling her warmth against my skin was enough to keep me hard for hours. That was actually a bit problematic because the supplement cocktail Brian had recommended had increased my precum enough that I had to check to make sure there wasn't damp spot on the front of my jeans after the show. So far there hadn't been, but I was considering keeping an extra pair of boxer briefs in my purse, just in case. Manbag, I mean! I meant my manbag.

I the third Friday, we were cuddling while the credits rolled. I'd already removed her plug and wiped her down, and now we were just sitting together. Honestly, these were some of my favorite moments, and I'd have taken all the risks just for this alone. Not saying I didn't want to fuck the shit out of her, only that even if I never did, and this was all we had, I'd still be alright with that.

“I wish the lights wouldn't turn on and we could just sit here all night.” She said as we watched the stream of names slowly rise.

“That'd be nice.” I said, and actually meant it. She felt warm against me, and so small. I wrapped her up in a tight hug, and she buried her face against my chest.

A minute or so passed by in contented silence before she said, “I don't wanna go back to Janie's.”

“You stay there every weekend?”

“Yeah, when mommy works at night, she has me stay over there. They used to work together so she lets me stay there for free. They make me stay in my room all the time, and the whole house stinks.”

Yeah, I guess they didn't want her around while they were all getting high. I thought a bit. “Does anyone ever check on you?”

“People used to come in when they were having parties, but not any more. They make me lock the door now.”

“They lock you in?”

“No, I have to lock the door so their friends don't come in.”

“And what if they don't have friends over.”

“They always have friends over.”

“Do they knock on the door, check to see if you're ok?”

“No, I just play on my phone til I go to sleep.

“Not ever?”

“Nope.”

“And what about in the morning. Do they wake you up, fix you breakfast?”

“They're always asleep when I wake up.”

“And no one checks on you all night?”

“Yeah, no one ever comes to talk to me, or read to me or anything.”

“Does your mom know?”

“Sorta. I told her I was bored, and she started paying Janie to take me out and stuff. We used to do lots of things, but...”

“But she started dropping you off by yourself...”

“I'm not supposed to tell.”

“It's not your fault if I find out on my own.” It wasn't her fault at all, and she should have told her mother immediately. Otherwise she might meet a bad man like me. Of course, I wasn't about to discourage her from keeping secrets, especially from her mom.

“I guess not.”

“Does your mom ever get back early?”

“No, she works all night on the weekends. She says she makes the best money then, and she can hang out with me during the day, and every weeknight that way.”

“Sounds like your mom loves you a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like you love her a lot too.”

“Yup. Lots, and lots.”

“But you haven't told her about Janie?”

“It's not a big deal.”

I figured Madeline would probably disagree, but I left it alone. We'd already talked a lot about keeping secrets. Repeating myself too often wouldn't be more effective, it would just make me seem insecure.

The credits ended, and we parted ways. I always hated not being able to walk her out to her car, but it just was too much of a risk.

*** *** *****

“It's too much of a risk!” I said to myself, firmly for the hundreth time. I'd said it while I was driving back to my apartment, I'd said it while I was filling up my big duffel, I'd said it as I carried everything out to the car, as I'd driven out of my parking lot, as I'd parked and gotten out, I said it as I walked down three blocks worth of back alleys, I said it again now that I was standing behind Andrea and Madeline's house, but I still walked through the gate and set my bags just outside back door.

“This is insane, this is too much of a risk.” I said again, and I walked out the front gate and across a few lawns to Janie's house.

Sure enough, they had friends over, and I could hear the bassline of their music as I stood outside. There were voices and the smell of weed coming from the back yard, but as I approached, I could hear them disappear back inside the house. I strolled along the sidewalk, as casually as I could, and looked at each window from the corner of my eye. I told myself firmly that if the window to her room wasn't in the front, then I'd give up on this madness and go back home. I'd knew this was all because of my stupid decision not to fap for the better part of a month, and I swore when I got home I'd have the jackoff session of a lifetime. I'd strip down naked, set up porn on both my computers and on the TV, lay down towels, and just beat the meat til I jizzed out all the crazy.

She wasn't in any of the front windows. Thank god. I finally had the excuse I needed to end this madness. I turned to go pick up my bags and head back to the car.

I found myself easing open Janie's gate, and slipping as quietly as I could into the back yard. The grass was unkempt, rose up almost to mid calf, and was littered with dandylions and other milkweeds. I saw a beer can in the corner, and paid extra care where I placed my feet, so I wouldn't make a noise. There was one window on this side of the house, and when I looked in, there was Andrea, lying on her bed, fiddling with her phone.

I tapped gently on the window a few times until she looked up, curious. When she saw me, she actually squealed and ran over to open up the window. I removed the screen, and she flung her arms around my neck, nearly strangling me with the force of her hug. She was wearing a thin cotton nightshirt and plaid flannel pajama pants, her hair was still damp from the shower and she smelled like tropical fruit.

I was struck anew by how beautiful this girl was. She looked like a young, auburn Audrey Hepburn with freckles. Her eyes weren't really bigger than normal, I suppose, but they were so expressive and clear that it was hard to look away from them. Her clothes weren't really tight, but they moved with her comfortably, pulling tight in places as she leaned or reached, showing a delicate, athletic figure, slim shoulders, slim hips, slim everything with the notable exception of her tiny bubble butt.

“How did you find me?!” She said, snapping me back to the moment. The words could have been an accusation, but there was nothing but delight in her voice. I shushed her gently and ignored her question.

“You've got a key to your house, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna give me a tour?”

“Right now?”

“You don't have to if you don't...”

But I couldn't finish the thought because she was already climbing out the window and into my arms. I helped her out and shut the window most of the way behind her. I had a moment of panic, and had her test to make sure she could open it back up herself if she came back on her own. It was a bit of a struggle, but she managed, which was good enough for me. We closed it up again and slipped out the gate.

Audrey skipped ahead and opened the door for me. For some reason I couldn't help but picture the look of horror on Melinda's face if she could see what her daughter were doing right now. I wondered how many little girls had died because they'd trusted someone the way Audrey trusted me. I wondered how many had suffered fates worse than death.

I don't blame parents for worrying about their children. I don't blame them for hating people like me. If the situation were reversed, and it were my child, I'd be terrified for them, and if I could I'd run the guy off with a shotgun, put the fear of god into him so he'd never touch my little girl again. I'd never want my children taking this kind of risk, and so it's impossible for me to hate the people who want to imprison me for life.

Fortunately for me, I'm enough of a hypocrite that I'm able to ignore that pang of empathy if I choose, particularly with Audrey standing there in the dark, looking back at me with mischeivous eyes. I followed her in.

I wanted to pounce immediately, to tear her clothes off and smell her, taste her, feel her. I held back and let her give me the grand tour. It was a small house, three bedrooms, one serving as an office. The flatscreen TV in the living room was fairly large, but not exactly the most recent model. Madeline's room was filled with bookshelves, which themselves were filled with paperbacks. Most of her books were old and well used, with cracked spines and faded covers. A book lay on the bedside table, face down and spread open to the page she'd been finishing. It was a quiet room, and very cozy. If I'd seen it without context, I'd have never guessed it belonged to a stripper. The den was cluttered with papers and bills. The computer was a Mac, a few years old, and obviously not meant for gaming. A facebook machine most likely. The kitchen was small, cramped even, but clean and tidy. I smiled when I saw a couple bananas on the counter, all that remained of a former bunch.

I felt voyeuristic, wandering through the tiny home, and not in a good way. Still, I followed Audrey around and smiled and nodded. Last, but certainly not least, we went into Audrey's room. She showed me all her toys and her stuffed animals, and her nerf sword and shield, and her hulk action figure, and her microscope, and on and on she paraded her things for my inspection and approval. I found myself enjoying the show, oddly patient considering the frenzy that had brought me here. I'd worried I was going to push her down and ravage her as soon as we got inside, but instead we spent a solid half hour just sitting and talking. She showed me the pictures of her dance recital, and used a group photo to point out all her friends in the class. I was surprised to see her Mom in the group shot. Apparently she really was a dance instructor, go figure. When I asked about it, Audrey told me that they practiced weekdays after school. I had noticed that Melinda did leave the strip club around three each day, but I hadn't paid attention to where she went after she picked Audrey up at school. I wondered if there were any other strippers on the PTA, and smiled.

While I was lost in thought, Audrey snuck up behind me and thwacked me with her nerf sword. I laughed, and dove out of the way of another attack. I still play soccer on the weekends, so I'm pretty spry for a guy with a desk job. She chased me around the house, and I dodged desperately until I managed to work my way back to her room and grab a dart gun. It was a pretty basic revolver design, and was already loaded, and as she came in the room I fired off a snapshot that wizzed past her ear.

We tore around the house for a while with her dodging bullets and me dodging sword slashes. Once she realized I had to run and recover my darts, she started snatching them up herself, or fending me away from them, the little scamp. There was a moment where she actually blocked my shot with her sword, anime style, and while it was probably more luck than intent, I decided it had been just too cool, and I let her “kill” me. My death scene was long, and appropriately dramatic, and it had Andrea in stitches, which was pretty much the whole point.

She decided she had died too, and after another long, though ultimately derivative, death scene, she flopped across my chest. We lay there together, panting for a bit, and I felt her start to wriggle a bit. It made our clothes slide over our skin, and the sensation, coupled with her weight and warmth, was very nice. I hadn't just laid on the floor in a long time, and I was suddenly thrown back to my own childhood where I remembered rolling around in the fresh laundry, just enjoying the feel of warm clean cloth against my skin. It wasn't the same sensation, but there was a similar abandon and innocence in the way she was enjoying herself.

She started sliding up and down along my chest and stomach, almost swimming over me. The movement pulled at my shirt a bit, and felt rather nice. She spun on top of me so she could crawl back up, and when she turned around to go down again, her foot ended up beside my head. I turned and grabbed it with my teeth, though I let go easily when she snatched it away. She lowered her foot back, and I grabbed it in my mouth again, though this time I licked her toes before she again snatched it away. She turned around and crawled up my body, She seemed to be offering me her stomach, but her shirt was in the way, so I did nothing. Nonplussed she started to turn around again, and in the process her bare arm came within range. I turned my head and grabbed her arm with my teeth, and she pulled away again, giggling.

When she realized I was only going after bare skin, it became a game. She rubbed her shirt all over my face, knelt on me, sat on me, exposed her belly button an inch away from my mouth then jumped away, just typical shit. The little tastes were nice, and she kept raising her shirt higher and higher, pulling down one side of her pants so I would bite her hip. She also started “accidentally” touching my boner through my pants; with her legs or feet at first, then she fell so her shoulder would bump it, then she placed her hand on it while she was crawling around, and pretended not to notice while she lingered. I was trapped somewhat uncomfortably in my boxer-briefs and jeans, and she sometimes put her weight on it in a way that felt less than pleasant, but it wasn't a big deal.

The first time she flashed her nipple, I grabbed her and didn't let her escape while I suckled and nipped. I stayed that way for a good ten seconds before I let her go and went docile again.

“That's not fair!” She said. She was trying to sound upset, but she couldn't stop smiling, and her face was flushed.

I just shrugged and we continued. For a while we went back to the old safe zones, and I stayed still, only chasing her with my head. Once she'd built up her courage a bit, she put her butt in my face and started pushing the back of her pants down. As soon as I saw the top of her crack, I reached up, grabbed both pants and panties, and yanked them all the way down to her knees, then I grabbed her thighs and dove in with a long lick from the bottom of her pussy, worming between her cheeks, and all the way up to her tailbone. She struggled to get away, but I held legs firmly so she could only thrash with her upper body, and rubbed my face all over her ass, nibbled each cheek in turn, then finished up by worming my tongue around her sphincter, and pushing in a fraction of an inch.

I let her go and lay back, then watched her pull up her pants and glare at me. I just stared back placidly, waiting for her next move. She straddled me on all fours so we were face to face, and seemed to be about to give me a piece of her mind. She didn't get the chance, because I snaked a hand behind her neck right at the base of her skull, and used the other to pull her body tight to mine, then I kissed her hard, forcing my tongue into her mouth and past her teeth. She fought me at first, but eventually melted into the kiss, letting me rub my tongue against hers. I explored her mouth with little subtlety, and crushed her body to mine, letting her struggle uselessly against me. I counted out thirty seconds in my head, then released her and lay back. She sat back, but she was still straddling me and for a moment she just sat there, panting, and I waited to see what she would offer next.

To my surprise, she didn't come close, but scooted back so she was sitting on my thighs, undid my belt and zipper, and fished me out of my pants. I raised my hips and helped push my pants underwear down to my upper thighs, then lay back and watched her explore. I'd been at about three quarter's mast when she had freed the beast, and now that he was in the open air, he grew steadily til he was fully hard and pointing at a spot six inches above my chin.

I had shown her plenty of vids, and I know she'd seen plenty more on her own, but she'd grown up without a dad or brothers or any other males in the house. From the way she stared at me, I was positive that this was the first dick she'd actually seen in the flesh. I reached up and stroked it, rolling the foreskin back both to give her a better look, and demonstrate how I touched myself. I'd been leaking a small amount of precum the whole time we'd been together, which gave the whole thing a shiny appearance, and made the whole thing more slippery than it had usually been before I'd started taking those supplements. I grabbed the base, and pointed it up towards her, which seemed to be the only indication she needed because she scooted over to the side, and folded her legs beneath her so she could lean her head over my waist and lick it.

The first touch was so light it was barely even noticeable, but just knowing that her tongue had touched my cock for the first time was enough to make it surge and jump all on its own. She licked at the drip of precum that had come out, then sat back, contemplating the taste. She frowned, all her focus inward, then shrugged and licked again. Her hand replaced mine at the base, and she started using her whole tongue for wide, flat licks, lollipop style. I resisted my natural inclination to reach out towards her hips to pull her around for a 69. This was her thing, and besides, I wanted to encourage the notion that not everything had to be reciprocated or even mutual. I had all night long to make her scream, no need to rush things.

On the other hand, I really, REALLY needed to cum, and she was still just licking me. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good tease, but after weeks of total celibacy coupled with our Friday teasing sessions, I was at my absolute limit, and I didn't want to be teased. I wanted to fuck her face.

I sat up, stood her on her feet, then wriggled the rest of the way out of my pants as I stood myself. I think I might have growled a little as I stripped her out of her night clothes, and stripped off my own shirt, then I pushed her, gently, but firmly, to her knees.

I'm fairly tall, so I had to bend my knees a little to make the height match up, but it wasn't a problem. I put my hand on the back of her head, just like you're not supposed to do, pointed my dick at her lips, and pulled her in.

She opened up immediately, almost eagerly. Perhaps she was glad to have the direction, who knows. I didn't much care at this point, I just wanted to cum down her fucking throat.

Despite that, I didn't shove her down balls deep and treat her mouth like a fleshlight. No matter how much I wanted to indulge my inner caveman, I still had to think long term. I let her get used to having her lips around an object that size, and I gave her pointers on how to avoid scraping her teeth on the skin, how to use her tongue, and how she shouldn't worry about drooling or dripping. I must have said the word “relax” several dozen times at least. Relax your jaw, relax your throat, relax your shoulders, relax and don't worry about being perfect, relax and explore, relax this is all just for fun. After we'd been going for a while I pulled her head gently, encouraging her to go deeper. Predictably she gagged and choked almost immediately, however, she surprised me by immediately trying again, and again

I kept my hand behind her head, fingers twined in her long, silky smooth hair, and added gentle, steady pressure when she tried going down on me, but I always released her as soon as she started coming back off me. I praised her each time, telling her how good her throat felt, how impressed I was by her progress, how mature she was for trying this. Praise, and push, praise and push, Play to her ego, her sense of pride, her desire to be mature, her competitive spirit. It was so easy, I almost felt bad, except she felt too damned good, and I'd waited too damned long.

I felt myself getting close, and I wanted nothing more than to just slam in to the hilt and spurt down her throat til I had nothing left. Someday, perhaps. Someday.

But for tonight, I warned her that I was about to cum, and had her sit back on her heels, open her mouth, and stick out her tongue as far as it would go, porno style. I don't usually do the whole facial thing, I'd much rather cum inside, but I wanted to do it this way because I felt it would be a gentler introduction for her, it would still establish a firm dominant precedent, and also because I was just curious to see how much I had saved up after all this time and all those powders.

The answer was a lot. I don't normally have a super huge load, but I sent five full spurts sailing onto her face and in her mouth and another couple squirts onto her bare chest before I started to dribble. I immediately stuck my dick back in her mouth and once I was capable of human speech, I instructed her on how to use her tongue to milk out the last drops, then told her to swallow, which she did with only a slight grimace. To be fair, that might have just been because she had to squint with one eye to keep the cum from running into it.

The pressure was finally off for the first time in weeks, and the relaxation of the mental checks I'd had to use to hold myself back for three weeks was almost as much a relief as the orgasm itself. I stood to enjoy the afterglow and admire my handiwork for a moment, then I brought her in to the kitchen, looked around until I found a clean dishrag that didn't look too fancy, ran it under some warm water, then wrung it out and started cleaning her off.

“What'd you think, little one?” I asked, unable to wipe the big stupid grin off my face.

“I... I love your cock, and...”

I cut her off before she could feed me any more memorized bullshit. “Bahh, knock off the porn talk, it's not the right time for it. I want to know what you're actually thinking, munchkin, not what you think I want to hear.”

“I dunno...”

“Can you give it a try? Can you remember what you were thinking when it happened?

“It was... different from what I thought.”

“Was I being scary?”

“No... not really... just, a little.”

“Sorry, sweetie, I've just been wanting to do that for so long, I kinda lost my cool a bit. You know I'll always stop if you want me to, right?”

“I know...”

“Good, 'cause I mean it. Now, how's your jaw feel, does it ache a bit?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“It's not used to having to stay that wide that long. You did great, kiddo, I'm super proud of you.”

“I did?”

“You were a trooper. We should probably wash your hair, though.” I carried her into the bathroom, helped her rinse off, then bundled her up in a big fluffy towel, used another to give her a towel turban, and carried her out to the couch to cuddle.

“You made me feel really good, you know that?” I asked her while she nuzzled against me.

“I did it right?”

“You're a natural, kid.”

“Was it the best you ever had?”

“Not even close.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry kid, it's nothing personal. You did an amazing job for your first time... Was that your first time?” She slapped my arm and scowled cartoonishly. “Just checking. You've got guts, and you've got enthusiasm, all you need now is practice.

“So we're gonna do it again?”

“Sure, if you want to, but later. There's no rush.”

“So what do I have to do to be perfect?”

“You are perfect.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yup. What's your favorite food?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just answer the question. If you could have any food in the world right now, what would you want?”

“Pizza!”

“Good choice. Ok, would you want to eat pizza every day?”

“YEAH!”

“You are young. Ok, so you're eating pizza every day, you can only ever eat pizza. You can't ever have ice cream, or popcorn, or cheeseburgers, or cereal, or candy, all you can ever have is pizza. Is that still ok?”

“Oh, yeah, that'd suck.”

“Exactly. Variety is the spice of life, kiddo. There's no perfect food, and there's no perfect blowjob. You just get better at knowing what the other person likes. Ya dig?”

“Yah what?”

“Feel me, homeslice? Comprende, mamacita? You down, clown? You cool, cat? We tight? We coo'? Do you understand the words that are comin out of my mouth?”

“You're weird.”

“Never truer words were spoken.” I reached around and pulled her towel up, then reached down with both hands to play with her from front and back. She arched back and closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation as I fiddled her diddle and circled her bum. I leaned up to kiss her, and we spent the next half an hour just laying there, making out. It was the first time we'd ever been able to just totally relax and enjoy one another, and I found myself wanting to linger. I coached her on kissing technique the way I had with blowjobs, and I enjoyed feeling her progress, and even begin to experiment. My lube was still in my bag out by the house's backdoor, so I was exceedingly careful with hers, but I made sure too keep at least part of her awareness on it as I slowly brought her up to an orgasm using my fingers. She relaxed enough that I was able to slip my finger inside with only a minor wince, and I wiggled it around slowly as I brought her up to a second.

I turned her around without removing the offending digit, and introduced Andrea to the concept of the sixty-nine. I had to crane my neck and hunch my back to make it work, but her squeals and squirms were worth the effort. I didn't give as many pointers this time, and let her experiment some more. However, when I was about to come, I did tell her I wanted her to swallow as much as she could. If she had asked about it, I would have reluctantly explained that she didn't really have to swallow, or even take the shot in her mouth at all, that it was her body, and her choice, and blah, dee blah, blegh. Fortunately, my little girl was eager to please, and I heard her choke and cough as she tried not to spill a single drop. She couldn't manage it yet, of course, but it was a good effort, and I praised her too the sky as I wiped away the cum leaking from her nostrils with the towel that had been her turban.

I could see she was getting sleepy, and to tell the truth, I was having to fight to keep my eyes open myself, especially after cumming twice, but it was only a little after midnight, and wasn't about to let the night end yet. I left her on the couch, walked to the back door, and brought my bags inside. I opened my laptop on the coffee table, and browsed through the folders. I'd been downloading videos every day in hopes of a situation exactly like this, and I chose one of them to help keep her attention while I got everything else set up. I put down a couple of blankets, dug through my bags.

In one bag alone, I had Eggs, plugs, vibrators, a Hitachi wand with half a dozen attachments, anal beads beads, Ben Wa balls, an inflatable triangular cushion for positioning, a small pump so I wouldn't hyperventilate filling said cushion, a leather blindfold, fleece lined leather restraints for wrists, upper arms, ankles and thighs, matching hogtie clip, solid braid nylon rope of a few different lengths, Flat edged medical safety scissors in case we didn't have time to untie, a ball gag, a leather dog collar, two spreader bars, a riding crop, massage oil, and of course lube. It would have been easier to find what I needed by laying everything out but we hadn't ever gotten as far as BDSM in our video searches together, and I didn't want to scare the girl too badly. Now that I'd cum a couple times, I could see easily see I'd gone more than a little overboard, but back at my apartment I'd been lamenting how little I'd been able to fit in the bags.

You know how they say you should never go shopping while hungry? The same applies with going online shopping while horny.

I got out the lube, the wrist cuffs, and the goddamn Sybian.

If you don't know what it is, just look it up. That thing alone had cost more than everything else I'd already mentioned combined, even before you counted the fuckmothering accessories. The scratch in my savings had now been upgraded to full blown dent. Hell, I'd probably have to replace the whole fender, be lucky if the frame wasn't warped (There comes a point where every analogy breaks down. We passed that point long ago).

It was a stupid impulse buy, and I'd probably never have even known about the things if I hadn't seen them on Howard Stern back when I was sixteen and mom had the computer in her room, and I had to jerk off to the goddamned E channel. It always seemed really hot, and I always heard the reactions were faked, and that it's really just an overpriced vibrator. All that is probably true, but there was this one video, this one goddamned video. I've found it several times, on all kinds of legit sites, so it was probably legal, but to my trained pedophile eye, the girl looked fifteen, tops. She had a cute enough face that no one would mistake for beautiful without parental bias, a toned enough body, though not my typical waifish preference, and her breasts were firm and pretty enough, though one was significantly larger than the other, which lent her an intriguing off-balance look. She was not at all my usual type, and I don't generally go in for solo vids, but there she was, straddling that sybian, smiling at the camera not as though a director had told her to, but as though she'd just seen a priest fucking a nun and hadn't decided whether to tell the secret or keep it to herself. She sat there as the vibrations ramped up. It seemed she was trying to stare the camera down, except every now and then her eyes would literally roll back in her head in a way that suggested it was mostly involuntary, but enjoyed thoroughly nevertheless. Her breasts kept jiggling in a completely unpredictable pattern as the muscles played, just barely visible beneath a thin, feminine layer of fat, smooth skin, and barely visible vellus hair. She didn't moan, so much as let out long, shaky “ooooooo's” like you might hear during a true deep tissue massage, the painful kind that breaks up scar tissue. And every time she did, she'd close her eyes, and her lips would twitch in an involuntary smile that screamed sex. The vibration increased, and her cries grew louder, more frantic, her stomach started spasming, but she kept smiling that same little smile on the inhale. On the street, I'd have given her a once-over, a smile, and forgotten her by the end of the block. In this video, however, she was a goddess, the avatar of the power feminine, and when the machine stopped, she slumped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, only able to breathe and smile. I fapped to her every day for a week and a half. I still go back to that video, years later.

So I bought the damned thing, because I as soon as I saw it in the online store, my mind put Andrea in the picture beside it, naked, exhausted, and smiling a wicked, pleased smile.

She was so curious about the big thing on the ground that she never even asked me why I was cuffing her hands behind her back. When I asked, she confirmed that they were indeed comfortable and not too tight, then got right back to asking about the Sybian. I put my little bondage speech into the back corner of my mind for when I might need it, and continued getting her situated.

The regular attachment was just a bit bigger than the vibrating butt plug we'd been using, but I figured she was going to have to be dealing with enough new sensations and experiences which might make her clench up harder than usual. I decided to go with the finger attachment instead, since it was much smaller. I came back to the couch with a bottle of lube, and pulled sideways onto my lap so that her legs were laying across my right thigh, her tailbone resting on the left one, and her hip was pressed against my chubby. Her arms were still pinned behind her back, so I had to keep one arm around her body to hold her up. With the other, I reached between her legs, teasing her clit a little on my way past, and spread a few dolops of lube between her cheeks. We'd had to do things fast at the movies, but tonight was all about taking our time and showing her how it felt when you did things right, so I spent a good ten minutes toying with her before I even started to push inside. Her ass greeted me almost hungrily now, and I fingered her for another ten minutes or so while we heckled the current porn on the screen and I felt her muscles clench and relax around me.

When she felt good and relaxed, I walked her over, lubed up the “finger,” and eased her on. The sybian comes with a stool specifically for the partner, so I sat in front of her, just stroking her body, whispering in her ear, letting her get used to the new position as well as the new invader. I was surprised by how intimate the position felt, her on the toy, and me on the stool. The height difference was largely neutralized, and her head was able to rest comfortably in the hollow of my neck, and My dick was poking her in the upper stomach and chest. After a while, I asked if she was ready, then started her off at about fifteen percent. Even at practically the lowest setting, I could feel the vibrations throughout her tiny body, and, I could see her muscles clenching involuntarily. She looked up at me, wide eyed, and I could see fear there, but also trust.

“Does it feel good?”

“I don't know.” She said, and it wasn't a mindless throwaway statement, it sounded as though she had put all of her cognitive ability into the question, and come up blank.

“Does it hurt?”

“I don't know.” She answered, the same way.

“Do you want to stop?”

She hesitated a good while this time before answering, “I can keep going.”

“That's my good girl.” I said, shamelessly, and I turned up the speed a bit. Her twitches mostly stopped after a minute or so, and her breath against my neck became deeper, steadier. Another minute went by, and she started writhing, and unconscious humping motion. I asked her again, “Does it feel good now?”

“Yeah.” She said, breathlessly, as though from a great distance.

“Do you want to go higher?”

“Yeah.”

We went higher. Then higher still. She stopped answering at about the forty percent mark, and I started to go off her body language. For her part, it was all she could do to lean against me and moan into my neck. I pinched her nipples a bit, and not terribly gently either which made her cry out extra loud on a couple exhales while I gently rubbed the hurt away. I reached over to the bag and brought out the riding crop. A bit of carefully applied pain, followed by gentle caresses and soothing words; rinse and repeat a few times before upping the intensity and starting the whole process over again. When we got to around sixty percent, I flipped the other switch to make the “finger” rotate in her ass. She squealed loud, and damn near jumped off the damned thing, but she couldn't use her arms which made it easy to keep her under control until she settled down. Her body adjusted enough to accept the new sensation, and she added a new, trembling moan to her repertoire. She kept moaning that same, moan in a regular rhythm that slowly grew faster and more desperate. I could sense she was getting close, so I left the settings alone, and focused on nuzzling her neck and ears while I whispered that she was safe, and she could just let it happen.

She bit my shoulder when she came. She started to pull away after a second, but I pulled her head in harder so she couldn't let go, and when the next wave hit she bit even harder, squealing the whole time. A minute later she threw her head back and grunted, deep, gutteral grunts, “Unhgh! uuUUngh! UUUIIIIIIIIIeeeee!” The noises she was making don't really lend themselves to spelling or syntax, they were an older, far more primal sort of language. The message came across loud and clear, and I figured she'd had enough. I stopped the rotation, and slowly eased the vibration back down over the course of a minute or so, then finally turned it off entirely. Sixty percent was not at all bad for her first go, and it meant we had room to explore.

I helped her off, then laid her face down on the other blanket. Her arms were still bound behind her back, and she didn't have the energy to do anything but lay limp and pant. I spread her cheeks wide, but she was clean as a whistle, and she looked absolutely delicious. I dove in and ate her ass for a few minutes, then added more lube and slipped a finger in. A few seconds later I slipped in a second, and then a third. She didn't even react, and her anus was apparently too exhausted to put up a fight. My dick was still tingling just from the vibrations it had felt through her body, I couldn't even imagine what her ass felt like right now, nor did I much care.

I lubed up my cock with my free hand, straddled her legs, pressed my head up right underneath my fingers, pressed it forward as I withdrew my hand, and just like that, I was inside.

To be perfectly, horribly honest, I don't think I would have stopped for anything at this point, not if she said no, not if her mom walked in, hell if the police crashed through the door weapons blazing, I think I would have continued to hump until I bled out. I laid down on top of her, supported just enough of my own weight to keep from smothering her completely, hooked my hands around her shoulders from the underside, and used them for leverage while I fucked her little brains out.

I didn't try to last long, for her sake as much as mine. I'd done as much prep as I could in our limited time together, but it still had to have hurt. She cried out as I built up speed, and I was too preoccupied to try and figure out whether it was in pleasure or pain. All I knew was I just had to cum as fast as possible, and as deep as possible.

I'd cum twice earlier that night, but this was the load I'd been waiting to drop since I'd first spoken to the girl, and there's just no cum as satisfying as the one you've been picturing in your minds eye for weeks on end. Everything I'd done tonight had been to get us here, to prepare her both physically and mentally, to salve my conscience just enough that I could ignore the guilt completely for this one perfect moment.

The moment where she was completely helpless beneath me as I sprayed cum all over her insides.

There are times, when you finally attain the object of your desire, the goal you've long strived for, lived the moment you've been imagining, and found it paling in comparison to the idea, the reality failing to live up to the fantasy.

This wasn't one of those times.

When I could move, I rolled onto my back. I took Audrey with me, staying inside her while we changed positions. I was still getting cum aftershocks, little spasms and twitches, and I wanted to stay inside her ass forever and ever.

“Did I do good?” I heard Audrey ask, a bit tired, but not shakily, and she was actually even moving her hips a bit experimentally on my still-hard cock.

“You did really good, little one. You're a hell of a dame, you know that?”

“I'm a dame?”

“Damn right, munchkin. You made me feel so good. I'm really happy.”

“That's good.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm glad. How do you feel.”

“Good, tired, but good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“I'm ok.”

“So I did hurt you.”

“It hurt a little, but I don't mind. That felt kinda good too. Am I weird?”

“You're definitely weird.”

“Hey!”

“Don't ask if you can't take the answer.”

“I'm not weird, your weird!”

“I'm totally weird, but you're weirder.”

“I'm not!”

“Only weird little girls let big, scary strangers fuck them in the ass.”

“You're not a scary stranger, you're Uncle Mark!

“And you're a goober. Come on, let's get cleaned up.”

There was a bit of groping in the shower, a few wandering hands, but we were both pretty drained, and snuggling was just plain nicer at the moment. We toweled up, I packed everything back up, and for the next few hours we sprawled together on the couch, looking at stupid internet shit on my laptop. She didn't know the password for the house's wifi, so we had to use my phone's connection, which not only ate into my data plan, but it was worth it. Audrey wasn't exactly an internet neophite, but she'd never seen Keyboard Cat, Charlie the Unicorn, Dr. Tran, Star Wars Kid, Numa Numa, the OK Go treadmill's video, Afro Ninja, the Daft Punk hands, Peanut Butter Jelly Time, Dramatic Chipmunk, or dozens of others. It made it really easy for me to keep her giggling, and I even got to take a nice little trip down memory lane.

She started to fade pretty heavily around four in the morning, so I got us both dressed, packed everything up, set my bags outside, triple checked to make sure the house looked the same as when we'd arrived, then carried her back to Janie's house, helped her crawl back through the window, and gave her a kiss goodbye before I went back to grab my backs and make my getaway.

Just a note. Several times in this "chapter" you call her Audrey instead of Andrea. Also quite a few typos, but I'm sure my story has some of those as well.

>>22683

Was too busy to work consistently on this, which is actually a hell of a lot more exhausting than ripping it all off in one go. I couldn't bring myself to look at it even one more time for an edit. It's entirely my own failing, but see above about me being a lazy bastard.

I feel you on that. I've been taking an edit as I write approach to my story. CBF to really edit it until its finished.

Am I the only one that hates this guy's stories? All of his characters talk like they're about to tip their fedora and unsheathe a few katanas, yet are depicted as perfect Marty Stu Chad Thundercocks. It completely sucks the realism out of it, because I know that no woman of any age would be attracted to these types of men.

>>22703

Don't make fun of my katanas, yo, They can cut through a tank. And for your information, all m'ladies tell me my fedora was what attracted them to me in the first place.

Dude, i'll be the first to admit my stories have been lazy as shit recently. They're nothing but my favorite fantasies, and if the guys sound like losers, that is me shining through. No real story, no real conflict, and i'm generally sick of them by about the third update. In short, I honestly don't disagree with anything you said, except for one thing. I'm far more pathetic than any of the characters i've written, and little girls get crushes on me with shocking regularity. I've never acted on it, because I'm not about to ruin their lives like that, but a lot of little girls aren't discerning. They like anyone who gives them positive attention, even if he's a loser neckbeard who writes shitty stories.

While I can't understand why, some oddballs on this site actually seem to like these little mental turds I drop in this board, at least until I run the idea into the ground. What I really don't understand, though, is why the fuck you read them if you dislike them that much. I'm not questioning your taste, they're shit stories, but why put yourself through that? Just ignore them and read something that does get your motor running.

>>22705

"If you don't like it then don't read it" is the laziest response to criticism in the book.

You clearly agree with my criticisms. Then take some pride in your work and seek to improve. Otherwise what's the point? Don't get mad at the messenger.

I am attracted to your stories because of the carefully crafted backstories and little details that show promise, but the ultimate execution is disappointing. I keep hoping that you will finally change something up.

Also maybe lolis can be attracted to those types of guys, but not any girls over 10, which feature in your stories. Girls grow into bitches early these days.

>>22709

God, you really think a lot of yourself, don't you? What part of my response indicated that I was angry at you? However, if we're gonna talk about lazy, let's look at your criticism. Fedoras, katanas, autism, and Marty Stu? It's you've got a /b/tard checklist in front of you and you're trying to hit every one of the most unoriginal insults with absolutely no innovation or cleverness of your own. Vitrol I can take, which is why I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I've always been fairly friendly with my detractors, because everyone deserves a good ego deflation now and then, but that just gives you wood and keeps you coming on, so let me set the record straight. I write these for one purpose, and I've warned everyone multiple times that I only write these to blow off steam, and that I'm not going to take the time to make them good.

Because I save my effort for my real stories.
Because I just write these for a laugh and a fap.
Because I don't owe you jack fucking shit.

You like how my stories begin, but don't like how they end? No shit, sherlock, because they have no conflict. I'm not writing this to create literature, I'm writing it to create a situation that feels just real enough to let me get MYSELF off. I post them on here for laugh, and because it tickles my pickle to know other people like the same twisted shit I do. When you call me out on writing bad stories, I don't bother disagreeing, because they are bad as stories. I don't write them as stories.

Then along comes you, trying to make yourself feel superior somehow by whining, then calling it criticism, which is a fucking laugh. You show no effort, spam the most basic bitching bile, and then act like you're doing this for some greater purpose than making yourself feel a little better about yourself after fapping to kiddy lit?

Fuck the fuck off. Read my shit, or don't. Write your own to show me what REAL elit looks like, or don't. Bitch at me all you want, and that's fine, but the other authors on here deserve a better sort of critic. The ones who are actually trying to create something deserve more effort than "reedz liek AnoniMPK,butt no gud!"

You're not doing anything special.

You're showing yourself to be smarter.

You're just being a cunt.

>Girls grow into bitches early these days.

Jesus, I missed this on the first read. I retract my /b/tard comment. You belong on /R9K/, you fucking misogynist loser. People are just people. If women don't like you, it's probably more to do with you than anything else. Don't project your insecurities on me.

>>22712

Maybe you shouldn't post content on an open, anonymous forum if you can't handle criticism without going on a buttmad tirade?

Sorry but all of the fedora tipping/katana unsheathing talk is just a perfect way to describe the way all of your main characters act. Your dialogue sounds like a collection of aalewis quotes. If they ranted about global warming and the War on Christmas then I'd say they sounded like Glenn Beck listening neocons. Stereotypes exist for a reason.

I guess I don't see the point in posting stories you admit that you put no real effort into. Maybe that's just me.

>>22713

Aay lmao, how did I know that you would be a beta whiteknight SJW?

How much pussy has valiantly defending the reputations of women online gotten you? Far less than I or any other man can get by being what you see as "misogynist", I guarantee it. I won't get into that though. Maybe some day you'll find out that being a sociopathic asshole makes women wet or maybe not. But from your wall of text it looks like the one that has insecurities here is you. Enjoy continuing to be a self-admitted pathetic loser if that's what makes you happy.

I'm sorry that my criticism so deeply affected you. I didn't mean to make you so enraged. Have a nice day.

>>22715

>Maybe you shouldn't post content on an open, anonymous forum if you can't handle criticism without going on a buttmad tirade?

Clearly not the issue. I've had plenty of criticism, and taken it in the way it was intended. It made for good discussion, and helped me see problems I hadn't noticed before. I even was willing to joke with you. I don't take umbrage with you criticizing my story, It's that your real goal is so clearly to draw attention to yourself, place yourself on some pedestal, and win some imaginary contest. I've done that, everyone online has done that, but it's juvenile, and you only feel impressive in your own mind, especially when you're so bad at it.

> Stereotypes exist for a reason.

So surely you're going to show me what an original, freethinking individual you are, amirite?

>Aay lmao, how did I know that you would be a beta whiteknight SJW?

>How much pussy has valiantly defending the reputations of women online gotten you? Far less than I or any other man can get by being what you see as "misogynist", I guarantee it. I won't get into that though. Maybe some day you'll find out that being a sociopathic asshole makes women wet or maybe not. But from your wall of text it looks like the one that has insecurities here is you. Enjoy continuing to be a self-admitted pathetic loser if that's what makes you happy.

God, you're just so cute, I could put you in my pocket. I could literally go to r9k, close my eyes, copy any post, and it would be practically indistiguishable from your little diatribe. The funniest part is you think that anyone who's not a woman hater is automatically a SJW. You think that because you've read a PUA handbook that you're some kind of pussy savant. You don't even realize how pathetic that mindset is.

Sure, stereotypes exist for a reason, sure there are lots of fat little self deluded bitches on Tumblr claiming that they're trigender, identify as half werewolf, half dragon, half snowflake, and yell about internet trolls giving them PTSD, and making fun of them is hilarious, but you just can't see that you're the opposite extreme which is just as ludicrously, hilariously misguided.

You can keep trolling as much as you want, but you're never going to feel better about yourself. And someday, when you grow out of this little phase, you're going to look back and wonder just what the fuck you were thinking, caring so much about making yourself feel like a big manly man that you were willing to troll the fapfic section of a mostly dead chan just to get any kind of human contact.

>>22715

Now here's a guy who's completely missing the point

7chan/elit isn't about masterpieces of erotic fiction. We come here because we're all kind of fucked in the head and want to beat off to something that if our friends knew we were reading, they probably wouldn't be our friends any more. So what if the characters are a little two-dimensional? The guy writing them has already admitted that he doesn't put as much effort into it as he could, and why would he? At least he's not whining about feedback and craving attention like some other authors do. He's just putting this stuff out into the web because it gets him off and he figures it'd probably get someone else off, too. Which it does. Thanks for that, by the way.

Nobody's whiteknighting. You're just being a douche. Get over yourself.

>>22720

>win some imaginary contest

Based on your walls of text, it is clear that you are the one competing in the Internet debate championship.

>You don't even realize how pathetic that mindset is.

Compared to... a man who is a self-admitted pathetic loser?

>to troll the fapfic section of a mostly dead chan just to get any kind of human contact.

I just come here to wait for the conclusions to some of my old favorites and see if anybody new shows promise. I just thought I'd break up the dead circlejerk here with a little bit of discussion on a lazy Sunday. I still don't know what has you frothing with indignation.

>>22721

I guess I am missing the point. I didn't see any notice that criticism was not wanted or that it had to only be submitted in tumblr-approved feeling-safe language. My bad!

Anyway it's clear that I'm deflating an ego bubble here that doesn't want to be touched so I'm going to do something better with my time.

>>22722
Shut up already.

Guys, there was a pretty awesome loli story going on, here.

Then someone got butthurt and fucked it up.

This is why we can't have nice things.

Please continue, OP. I will suck your dick so God damned hard if you continue, no homo.

>>22734

Embrace the homo.

And I don't mind people crapping on my stories. I only took issue when he started getting self righteous and spreading his bile to other, better threads.

I think this story has one more part, maybe two. We'll see how it goes.

>>22735

QfT. There are exactly two authors on this board that I even check into /elit/ for and OP is one of them.

You know, you'd think they'd be more appreciative of our work, considering we're basically the only two who are actually updating our stories with anything resembling frequency.

I'm all for constructive criticism, just irks me when people judge our stories without knowing where they're actually going. Anon should read anonympcs Phil phantom stories. I feel pretty confident he'd shit a brick at the lack of realism.

>>22737

Dude, don't let yourself think that way. No one owes us appreciation for this crap. No one owes anyone else anything here. That's what makes a good comment worthwhile when it does come. If someone feels that you need praise in order to keep writing, then they may well just start posting insincere shit just to hurry you along. I'd rather hear someone's honest opinion any day. Even the troll had some nuggets of truth hidden within the bile. Chans like this are valuable because people can be honest in their opinions, and we get to take that and decide what that honesty is worth. The moment we start talking about how people should be more appreciative is the moment we start encouraging disingenuousness, and that cheapens the experience for everyone.

It's no fun to masturbate to the good comments if you're constantly wondering whether they really meant it, or if they're just bored and trying to get you to produce another chapter of fap material.

*** *** *****

As far as my story goes, the more I wrote of this update, the more I think this idea is mostly played out. The next update was going to revolve around a bachelor party for one of Brian's friends, and being too drunk to realize that they're going to Melinda's strip club until it was too late. I was gonna have him get some dances from her, and buy her some drinks and talk for a while. She would open up about how she hates leaving her daughter with a druggie neighbor, but she's made too many bad decisions and gotten into too much debt, and she's just on the cusp of finally crawling out and being able to finish school and get a real job, etc. And the plan from there was to have him bump into Melinda while "househunting," and pretend it was an accident, but then turn an "awkward situation" into a friendship, and eventually get her to leave Andrea with him when she worked.

And then from there it was just gonna devolve into my usual, use one loli to catch more loli, and they all fuck like rabbits for years, and everyone eventually moves on with their lives but looks back on those times fondly, and blah de blah bullshit.

I threw up in my mouth a little bit typing just that much out. I don't mind writing that shit, but i've done it before, and this story wouldn't be significantly different in any interesting way. No need to put you through that.

Anyway, that's why I won't be updating. I'm thinking of writing about something that can jump from body to body, Fallen style, but we'll see. I've been letting my real writing slide recently so I should probably focus on that.

>>22749
Did I read that right? this story is done?

>>22750

Not so much done as not interesting enough for me to keep going, but it amounts to the same thing.

She hasnt even lost her virginity yet though. At least have that happen before you end things if you'd be so merciful

Don't see why you need to nix the whole story based on realising your plans are shit (really, they were).
The whole willing BDSM thing is uncommon in loli stories, and something I really enjoyed.
Why not just have Mark track down Melinda at the strip joint, give her a big tip and get himself a private show, and leave his number for her to call if she wants to go out for a drink sometime.
Then you can have him domming mother and daughter without realising until he decides it's time for a threesome.

>>22778

I've made the mistake of continuing on stories lime this after the spark is gone, and it's always underwhelming. It's better left to your imagination. Besides, I have a very specific scenario that is completely fucked up and so goddamned hot. I might not get around to it for a while, but it's definitely the next thing i'll post here. Much less touchy feely, not at all like the saccharine setups that have been my norm recently.

I couldn't stop thinking about this story today. It deserves a bump just for that.

>>22749
Pleeeease update op. i'm begging pleaaaaase

Best story on elit. Please come back, Rick.

making sure we don't lose this one

This is the hottest thing ever, humbly requesting more

This is the hottest thing ever, humbly requesting more