Preface: Don't let anyone tell you that little girls aren't sexual. Here's proof of the matter, once and for all. Little eight-year-old Angie's magnificent body will tempt even the most professed of the righteous. Her Uncle Rick will certainly attest to his addiction for the little angel and after reading this story, you'll be an expert on "Lickety-Split." But don't try this exercise by yourself. Most any eight-year-old can give instructions.
"Hey! You're NOT supposed to do that," nine-year-old Becky admonished her schoolmate, ten-year-old Richard Driscoll.
"But you promised," he whined with a tone of disappointment.
"I know, but NOT on the school bus, 'cause someone might tell."
The soft shimmering flicker of a candle on their table cast a seductive glow on the stunningly pretty child's smooth face. Yes. She was pretending to be coy… and totally at ease with her fate. I watched quietly from a distance while sipping my cocktail.
The writing looked like a child's, but the address and name on the envelope were correct right down to the zip code.
It's not often that I get a letter in the mail, with email and text messaging being the preferred method that most of my friends and family use to connect with me. But a Saturday afternoon presented a surprising, pleasing and unexpected letter from someone whom I'd never heard of…or met. The return address was from someplace in the South Pacific islands.
Silky-smooth little-girl panties! That's all I can think of these days after my cute little niece graced my fingertips by letting me touch her where no man should.
At six years old, Jenna loved to sit on my lap whenever we watched TV together. The innocent antics of a child soon shaped her behavior…and mine as well. It all came about when her mother and dad left me to baby-sit one memorable night as they went to a late night wine-tasting party with friends.
Finding a job in such a short time wasn't as difficult as Slade Wilcox had feared. After a lengthy prison sentence for child molestation, he was labeled a "convicted sex offender" and the newest addition to the National Sex Offender Registry.
Story intro: Everyone Loves Homer. Here's an uncut, unseen episode we'd all like to see. Homer, in his typical bumbling style, teaches Bart and Lisa the finer points of sex.
It was a quiet Sunday evening in the Simpson household when Marge Simpson just happened to walk by Bart's room.
"What are you doing Bart? Stop that this instant!" Marge ordered as she walked briskly into her son's room.
Thanks for reading my series. The genesis of this story started on Nifty.org, but some of the story lines required a more openminded site. I'm very thankful to Hiddenbookcase for offering that platform.
Jerome’s Chicago “girl-friend” was passed out in her own bed. There had been a few photographs of them together by the press, and she was young with nice tits that filled out a dress well and looked good on his arm. However, she had only enjoyed his cock a couple of times, when her husband happened to have their son—the bastard. Every other time she weirdly had passed out before they got to sex, just a little too much to drink was her reasoning.
I guess just about everyone has a deep, dark secret that just won't go away. Mine's from the Vietnam War and, if revealed to the right people, could get me locked up for a very long time.
Her name was Tho. At just about seven or eight years old, she couldn't tell me her age because she spoke absolutely NO English.