Jenny Jones

Jenny Jones was an epic story posted on 4chan /b/ at about 00:30 EST, 2007-04-14.

Jenny Jones: Part 2 or possibly "Aina" was a just-as-epic sequel posted on 4chan /b/ at about 10:55 P.M. EST, Tuesday, August 28. Like the first story, this one was related in real time (as Anonymous waited for a bus). It took until 12:50 EST at which point Anonymous left the thread.

Jenny Jones, by Anonymous
I'm wondering if I'm going to end up in jail.

A week ago if you told me I'd be Bubba fodder soon, /b/, I would have laughed at you. I'm a master-of-the-Universe type fucker, in control of my own destiny. I know how shit works, and I enjoy exploiting it. But this week it all went crazy...

It all started when I met Jenny. But I'll get to that in a minute.

I'm on a resort island in the South. Georgia, Golden Isles, that kind of area. I won't say which one, because...fuck if I want to go to jail any sooner. But suffice to say, my family's wealthy enough that I can spend as much time by a pool as I want.

Every Easter, the island gets flooded with families. Big, crazy clans of people, all rich snd silly and DRUNK. Mine included. I generally just find the nearest lawn chair, put on a pair of cheap sunglasses, and enjoy the view. Gorgeous girls--stacked southern dames with tits pushing out of their bikini tops, cute petite yankees with pale skin and bright smiles--walk by constantly Easter Week, and all you need to do is watch and shift your towel to hide the hard-on. Which I was doing, when Jenny walked by.

I'm no pedophile, seriously. CP always creeped me out when I saw it on here, and even loli was just a momentary distraction. But let me fucking tell you, I understood what Lolita was talking about when I saw this little girl walk by. God knows why her parents let her have a two-piece at her age--why do 12-year-olds dress skimpy nowadays? But they did, and it made me absolutely STARE, because never had I thought a tiny girl, so obviously immature, could look so sexy. She strolled by talking to an older guy--her brother, I assumed--and giggling, an overpriced ice cream cone in one hand. Her suit--a green little number, tight--clung to her ass as she walked past, so thin I could make out both cheeks of her absolutely perfect little ass.

My hard-on only got bigger from this kid. She looked back at me suddenly, a fleck of ice cream on the corner of her mouth. Even with sunglasses I was obviously leering; she outright grinned at me and licked the ice cream away with a deft flick of her tongue.

I managed a smile back and a wave. She hurried to catch up to Big Brother, that barely-clad ass swaying now, and I wondered if I'd been out in the sun too long. She really had looked sexy, the more I thought about her. Shoulder-length brown hair, a cute and rounded face with a button nose (that, horrifyingly, reminded me of my younger sister), that tight little butt I couldn't stop watching, and the puffy hints of tits just barely pressing against her bikini top. Not to mention the saucy grin and the licked away ice cream. Fuck, I thought, cock straining obvious against my bathing suit, she even had a few *freckles.* What the hell had just happened?

Maybe it was the way she'd grinned. Or the particular tilt of her head as she licked her lips clean. Or the way her eyes were, I shit you not, absolutely fucking fixated on my (so I thought) well-hidden boner. Either way, I couldn't stop watching her until she was out of sight, and once she was gone I hurried to the men's spa to take a steam and jerk off in one of the private showers. It didn't really help--that night I went to the exquisitely decorated Spanish-style bar in the island's five star hotel (again, not telling you which one, feds) half-hard. Trying to drown away the image of the little girl with the perfect ass, I downed a shitload of rum drinks the locals called Plantation Punch; this turned out to be a mistake.

I don't know how I ended up in the hot tub at the beach club, or why my bathing suit was balled up next to me. I vaguely recalled a bubbly junior staffer who'd quickly left when we ran out of alcohol, but even her nice legs and blonde hair vanished from my mind after a while in the water. I let my head sit against the flagstones outside the tub, rest of my body just drifting, and thought broken, lusty thoughts. Little girls, I remembered, had little hands. I tried to fixate on that instead of any part of the bikini girl's body.

Immediately I imagined them wrapped around my dick. I'm not John Holmes, but I'm not some Japanese fuck, either, and I could easily imagine my cock dwarfing those little hands with their pink-painted fingernails, maybe scraped from a tumble on the sandy beach that'd pull part of her bathing suit down--

No, no, no.

Her hair. Okay, that would work, her hair. Nothing sexual about that. Unless, I thought, she was naked and writhing on top of me, slick little cunt leaving trails on one of my thighs, her wet hair dragging over my face and neck, smelling like salt water and candy and whatever the fuck precociousness smelled like--

No!

I smacked my head back, once, against the flagstones ringing the length of the tub. I didn't want to get out, and really didn't need to; rules are suggestions to people rich enough to live here. But if I was drunk off my ass with a big fucking hard-on and no suit hiding it, the few staffers left might be less inclined to leave well enough alone.

I decided to settle on her cute face. Bright eyes, that button nose, lips too red for someone who didn't wear makeup yet...

...flushed red *without* makeup, lips rounded into a lustful O, nose flaring with frantic breaths, suddenly painted white with my cum while her little hands, stacked one over the other, jerked me off and her hair dragged across my legs--

"Damn it!"

My eyes snapped open. I'd shouted that, and must have looked really damn strange to whoever was nearby; naked guy with a raging boner in a semi-public hot tub, cursing the sky and surrounded by empty Plantation Punches. Fortunately, the only living thing nearby was a not-so-curious sea gull who'd wandered in from the nearby Atlantic. I tossed it a lemon slice and closed my eyes again.

Okay, clearly I was fixated on this little girl. Which was okay! So long as I didn't fuck her. No one fucked little girls, that simply wasn't allowed. So I did the next best thing, taking a gentle hold of my cock under the water and starting to jerk off. I even had the presence of mind to flail until I turned on the jacuzzi jets, which I was proud of. Now the sloshing noises had an explanation and my hurried stroke-job was a flesh-colored blur.

I conjured up the last image with some alterations. This little Lolita on her knees in front of me, beaming, now in a little schoolgirl's uniform, stained and smeared with cum, licking it like the errant ice cream off her lips and sucking my dick expecting more. "Thanks, Mister," she'd chirp in such a cheerful, grateful tone--

Again I was interrupted, but this time not by me.

"Whatcha doing, Mister?" I cracked an eye open and saw her. Still in her two-piece, her hair in fucking PIGTAILS. Oh, come on, I lamented inwardly. Pigtails? Are you trying to make me lose my shit, God? But she seemed as earnest as anything, leaning over the hot tub, hands on her knees, legs planted wide. I couldn't help it--I stared between them, and damned if her bathing suit wasn't pressing into her no-doubt hairless cunt, giving me a perfect glimpse of camel toe. She didn't seem to notice. Or, if she did, didn't seem to mind. Instead she repeated her question.

"Whatcha doing?"

I struggled. My bathing suit balled up nearby, at least six empty drinks with ice glittering in the moonlight, and one hand on my cock under the water.

"Relaxing," I finally said, opening both eyes. God damn it, had her suit gotten TIGHTER? Or maybe it was just chilly, because her nipples were definitely straining against her top. Immediately and unbidden the thought of one of them between my teeth came into my mouth; I tried to push it back. My hard-on was problematic enough, and God knew when the timer on the jacuzzi would run out and the water would go transparent again.

She giggled. Fuck, why was that sound so sexy? "You don't *look* all that relaxed," she said, taking a seat with a sudden thump and dropping her bare feet into the water. They swished back and forth just...just...JUST ABOVE my cock, which was traitorously pointing straight up. Thank Humbert Humbert the hot tub was a deep one, even if I yearned for one pink-painted toe to rub precum off my head. OP here, can you blame me if I have newfound respect for Humbert Humbert?

Anyway...

She had a southern accent. That only made my dick twitch more. The twang that annoyed the shit out of me when hitting on local college girls sent a thrill through me when cutely distorting the words of a twelve-year-old.

And abruptly I realized who she was. Brunette, southern, with Big Brother? That guy she was with earlier was a bodyguard. This girl had to be the richest girl on the fucking island.

This girl was the daughter of the island's *owner.*

How she got away from her cheerless security detail long enough to be inches from footjobbing a drunk college grad was a mystery, but I didn't much care, because she was idly rubbing her crotch as she sat there. Maybe it itched. Or maybe it had something to do with the way she'd grinned at me before.

"I'm not entirely relaxed," I admitted.

"Why not?"

"You're, um...it's less serene with you here."

She scrunched up her face, angry. I waved my free hand placatingly, the other starting to slowly stroke my dick again. What the fuck was I doing?

"No, no, it's just..."

"Just ya got a big-ol' hard-on from looking at my bikini?" She asked with an innocent tilt of her head. I looked down; the water had stopped churning, making the throbbing erection and my hand around it perfectly visible. I paled, and she laughed.

"Naw, that can't be it. You ain't a pervert, Mister, are ya?"

"Certainly not." I looked for the last half-full Plantation Punch, which I realized belatedly was next to her and almost empty.

Christ, how long had she BEEN here?

"So it wouldn't have anythin' ta do with the big ol' boner you had when ya saw my butt today, huh?" She leaned over the water again, eyes wide and curious, looking down at the blurred cock. I wanted to either flee for my life or grab her and tear off that bathing suit, and, scarily, either option seemed reasonable. Ain't nice to lie.

"You were the one in the bathing suit," I managed weakly.

"Still am," she said, utterly proud and throwing out her hands. God, her tits looked good through the suit, small as they were. And before I could think about it anymore she was sliding into the water across from me, hissing and tossing aside the green bikini top I'd been leering at.

"Ahh, that's much better, Mister! You'd be surprised how often I gotta wear that thing."

I made a choking noise. My cock didn't choke, but just throbbed more insistently, reading messages from my eyes, which were relaying the pigtailed little slut bobbing across from me, her bare nipples now visible in the water. She ran her hands across them just below the surface, pinched, and, if that wasn't just an optical effect, tugged; judging by the way her eyes lidded, I'd say it was really happening.

"But it ain't all, is it?"

"No," I mumbled, "it ain't."

She dove under the water. I felt something definitely Not-Me brushing against my dick--a shoulder, I realized--and then she resurfaced, grinning hugely, her bottoms in her fucking *teeth*.

"Boy, *this* is how ya'll should do it all the time," she said once she'd tossed the bikini bottoms aside. "Feels so nice on my cooch." She abruptly blushed, a neat trick for such a temptress. "Sorry. My *cunnie.* Big sister says cooch sounds so gross."

"I do like cunnie better." Damn fucking ill-lit water! I couldn't make out her legs; past the middle of her chest, her body was a fleshy blur. Son of a bitch, my last post timed out.

"So do I!" she said, delighted, slicing through the water towards me. Before I could protest she was pressed against my side, stiff nipples brushing my chest. "Cooch is just...whassthat word? We covered it in English yesterday..."

"Habitual?"

"Sure." She batted her eyes and looked down. "Say, Mister, your hard-on ain't gone."

"No."

One of those slim hands squeezed around it, surprisingly strong. Her blue eyes widened, suddenly saucers. "Jeez, Mister, it's real big!"

"Not my fault." I couldn't take this. I grabbed for her ass, so infuriatingly close by, and now she gasped as I closed my fingers over it.

"You're touchin' me!" She said, but her voice was more thrilled than horrified. I nodded and must have clearly wondered what the fuck she expected; clumsily shucking my boner under the water, she continued "Last four yankees I did this to just stared at me or got outta the water!"

Last FOUR YANKEES?

"What--"

"One of 'em had a hard-on, but he didn't *do* anything, Mister," she whined, looking at me. So little daughter of the owner of a fucking island was curious? Why didn't she just seduce one of the bodyguards? Or better yet a friend her goddamn age? What was she trying to do, get me arrested? Did she have any idea the risk she was putting me in, hitting on me like this? Why wasn't I getting the fuck out of here right fucking now?

None of these were questions I actually considered. Instead, the only question in my head was: "Can she get pregnant right now?"

Oh, right, also.

"What's your name?"

"Jenny Jones," she said, nuzzling into me, still trying to jerk me off. "Do you think I'm cute, Mister?" Every time she called me 'Mister' it sent a jolt through my body and some more precum into the water. Fuck, had she spent some time reading lolicon before she tried this out?

"I think you're sexy, Jenny," I said, curiously hoarse. "And I think we should get out of the water and somewhere indoors."

"Aw, no need for indoors, Mister." Jolt through the cock again, which she clearly noticed this time, freckled face lighting up. "My daddy owns this club." She whispered it like it was some kind of goddamn secret, reached down to curiously squeeze my balls. "Ain't nobody in it right now, not even guards. Ya think I wanna get caught?"

Sharp little kid, I thought.

We clambered out of the hot tub, sending water everywhere. She giggled at the way my cock bounced when I climbed out, then let out a squawk when I smacked her little butt as she bent away from me.

"What?" I said defensively. "You're being naughty, aren't you, Jenny?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her ass. "Guess I am."

She looked so small, hunched over on the edge of the hot tub like that, pigtails hanging and blocking part of her face. I reached and stroked her ass, then her smooth, pale thigh; weird a southern girl would be so short on sun. But she glittered with water in the moonlight, and at my direction laid back on the flagstones. So there little Jenny was, stretched out on the flagstones. They were pretty cool, and it made her arch up before I'd even done anything to her, trying to keep her back off the ground. I didn't mind; it put the delicate bumps of her breasts off the ground, closer to my fingers, to my lips--

God, the shudder I got when I finally got one of her nipples in my mouth was heavenly. She went from arching away from the ground to squirming like fuck on top of it, and I ran my hand up her thigh, checking her--damn, not entirely bare--pussy. Though just barely fuzzed with brown hair, it was almost as bald as any loli's; utterly fucking lickable. But I couldn't move away from her nipples, which she didn't seem to mind. I stroked a fingertip slowly over her slit, which was clearly not just dripping from the hot tub, and tugged on her nipple with my teeth.

"F--feels so good, Mister--!"

I had a sudden thought. She wasn't too short, but could her pussy reach my face?

"Get on top of me," I ordered, glad I was finally in charge. There was only a moment's hesitation, her breath coming out in excited puffs, before she scrambled on top of me, that barely fuzzed cunt leaving wet streaks across my belly.

I didn't correct her at first, just laying there and enjoying the sight of a gorgeous little girl, rubbing her slit against my stomach without even thinking about it. I reached up to play with her tits.

"You like your cunnie rubbed?" I asked.

"Uh-huh, Mister," she mumbled, grinding harder.

"You want something even better?"

"Oh yeah, please?" Her eyes lit up.

"Then you're gonna need to do something for *me*, Jenny Jones." She blinked down at me, uncomprehending, even as she kept grinding her fucking cunt into my flexing stomach. I grabbed her hand and pushed it back--to my cock, sticking straight up. She tried to jerk me off; I shook my head.

"Get your cunt in my face," I growled. Blushing, she started to drag herself up my body, and I shook my head again, giving her behind a sudden crack.

"Jeez, Mister!" She whimpered.

"Get your cunt in my face, and *your* face by *my* cock."

Realization dawned. All hesitation disappeared, replaced by excitement and curiousity, and she scrambled around on top of me, nearly smacking herself in the face with my dick.

"Now try--" Before I could even suggest it a hot little tongue dragged up the side of my shaft--a little clumsily, granted, but holy FUCK she was eager--and I responded in kind with a loving lick over her slit.

Even with chlorinated water over her pussy, even after a day of swimming in the Atlantic, she tasted fucking better than the Plantation Punch we'd forgotten about nearby. And her moan buzzed my dick; she was trying to take the head in her mouth, slopping her tongue all over it in the process.

Jesus Christ. I was lying somewhere that, even on a private resort, was considered public, with a twelve-year old stretched across my body trying to swallow down my cock. My only response to this thought was to tongue her clit, which made her scream. Fortunately her mouth was full, but her hips shook so hard I had to grab her ass to keep her from falling off me. Sensitive, these kids.

I kneaded her butt, licked her from top to bottom, and savored the juice she was quickly, with her squirming, getting all over my face. Everything seemed to set her off--my tongue especially, but every time her shudders brushed my nose against her clit she squealed, every knead of her butt made her whimper, and when I pressed my tongue thoughtfully to her little asshole she wailed, loudly, despite the prick she had halfway into her mouth.

God, did I need to come, and she could tell despite the inexperience, clenching her hand around the rest of my dick and squeezing my balls with the other one, mumbling something--a muffled "Mifter"--with a mouthful of prick.

I flexed my tongue against her clit and gave her a hard smack on the ass, making her cum so hard she seized up on top of me, my dick popping out of her mouth. That change in sensation was enough, and I came so hard I saw stars, even as I heard her yelp, white stuff splattering her lips and chin. She was a brave tyke, though, jerking me off as I came, and to my delight nuzzling my twitching cock, striping her cheeks and nose with the last of my spunk.

She crawled around on top of me again, and I found myself face-to-face with a frazzled and white stained twelve-year old. Her pussy, damn warm, settled on my half-hard dick, and I groaned.

"That felt real good, Mister," she panted. "Do I look cute like this?"

I took her in. A couple streaks of cum masked her freckles; she was licking it from her lips as I watched, and a shot had even hooked into her hair.

My cock stirred against her mound. She squealed happily. We just lay there, her slowly grinding herself against my steadily hardening prick, me slowly feeding her the cum all over her face. She didn't mind a bit as I wiped my spunk away with my fingers, nor did she resist as I pushed them to her mouth.

"Suck them clean."

"Yef Mifter." She slurped obediently. This continued until her face was clean--but shiny--and she was grinding herself up and down my fully-hard (and kind of sore) shaft.

"Mister?" She whispered, ducking her head into my neck. Until now she'd hardly seemed embarassed or hesitant, just inexperienced, but here she whispered and blushed and didn't want to look at me. I ran one hand along her bumpy spine, the other soothingly over her spanked-red ass.

"Yes, Jenny?"

"Mister, I never put no..." She hitched herself against my length for emphasis.

"Cock," I murmured, nuzzling her cheek.

"Cock in my cooch before."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"My mommy's hairbrush," she mumbled, clearly wishing I hadn't asked. I chuckled and kissed her forehead, then reached to undo her pigtails.

"I think you'll be okay. Just get on top of it and sink down as slow as you like."

She looked at me warily, a little absurd with her soaked hair and flushed, cum-shiny face. Abruptly I pulled her up for a kiss, pushing my tongue past her lips; she moaned and rubbed cunt-juice along my belly, squirming her ass in my hands.

We broke the kiss. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," she said, "I guess I do..."

"Then put my cock in your cunnie, Jenny. Right now." She giggled at the word--so cute, I thought, flooded with the weirdest mix of affection and lust for the hot little brunette about to lose her cherry to a trust fund drunk. It was tough going at first, her hot lips barely able to part around my dick--I'm no slouch in size, like I said, and a hairbrush isn't comparable to even a fucking *dildo*. She was breathing slowly, eyes squeezed shut, fingers on my chest. I looked from her concentrating face to her flat tits to those pink-painted fingernails and considered just grabbing her hips and slamming into her myself--

She gasped and saved me the trouble, jamming herself downward, keening when she hit the base of my shaft. She slumped forward on top of me but made no movement to get off my cock.

After she lay there for a minute I gently stroked her hair. "Jenny?"

"Just...gimme a minute, mister," she whispered, voice raw. Then she tried to pull up, shuddered, and succeeded, both of us groaning as her clinging, tight cunt drew away from my cock. I could feel a little trickle of blood coming down my shaft, but before I could worry anymore she slammed down, and it was my turn to holler.

"JESUS!" It was the tightest cunt I'd ever had, gripping me like a vise, and judging from the full-body blush Jenny was sporting she had to be enjoying the feeling, too. She started bouncing, slow breath disappearing, wet hair flapping against her shoulders and face. I reached to tug a stiff little nipple; she wailed and fucked herself on me harder. I was going to come inside this little girl, I realized. I was going to make her my fucking Lolita, right here on the pool deck, and no one was going to stop me. I let go of her nipple, reached and grabbed her ass--and starting ramming back into her, grinding up as she sank down, both of us moaning almost in perfect sync.

It looked so wonderfully wrong, so smutty, her little body arching on top of mine. The freckles. The barely there tits. The imperceptible fuzz on the pussy I was fucking up into like my life depended on it. Something would set me off, any second now--

I glanced at her hands again, there clutching at my torso, and saw that her nail polish wasn't just pink.

I was fucking the shit out of a girl who wore Hello Kitty nail polish. With sparkles.

I. Fucking. Came. Her eyes went wide and she threw her head back and wailed, a sudden, sharp "Mister, I--OH!" that ended in incoherent yelling. If I wasn't blowing a load into her cunt it would have sounded like she was playing some particularly fun game.

Finally she slumped atop me, that defiled cunt still clinging to my dick. I wondered how I'd pull out; if I'd blow another load trying to do so. I also thought about her sucking her own pussy off my dick and grinned, stroking her hair, catching my breath.

"We really did it, Mister," she panted against my shoulder. I tried to respond, groaned as she slowly--so damn slowly--pulled off my dick, pressed her oozing pussy against my body. Maybe she could eat my cum from her cunt, I thought, mind already a-whirl with possibility.

"Right out in public," I responded. "Very naughty, Jenny."

"Yeah," she said, smiling blissfully. I thought about those lips going places most girls wouldn't dare; Jenny would definitely be up for it, especially given the shriek when I'd rimmed her earlier. I could fuck her ass tomorrow, in one of the valet-parked cars, I thought. I could screw her little cunt on the beach while the parents sip margaritas in her billion-dollar house.

I'd gotten away with it. Scot fucking free.

"No one's here, right?" I asked lazily, my eyes drifting shut. Jenny eating my ass, Jenny tied to my bed, Jenny begging for my cum or squealing through one of her own while I ate out her pussy and stroked myself against her body...

"Oh yeah," she said, almost purring. "My daddy never leaves people in here at night on account of the cameras."

My eyes snapped open, caught on the blinking, completely obvious monstrosity of a security cam that had watched me sixty-nine, cum all over, and fuck a little twelve-year-old in perfect public view.

All in all, though?

I think it was worth it.

Jenny Jones: Part 2
It wasn't supposed to happen again, /b/.

Do you have any idea how much bribery, cajoling, and effort it takes to get out of a fucking child molestation charge when there's video evidence and you're not famous, you're just rich? In the SOUTH? Do you know how far I had to go to avoid the squads of yokels--some paid, some not--who wanted to lynch me for violating their little angel? Not to mention the shame it brought upon my family, which gave me a stipend and told me to in no uncertain terms fuck off.

Yeah, fucking Jenny Jones was not the best decision I ever made in my life.

At the time--little brunette panting and sheened with cum on top of me, grinding her pussy against my stomach, completely fine with the fact I'd just committed at least two felonies in front of a video camera her rich father probably had checked every HOUR--I figured I could, I don't know, steal the tape or something. Go on some grand adventure, get to the security center before dawn like that stupid-ass writer claimed I did (I am NOT into boys, by the way), somehow save my pedophilic ass.

Instead what I got was one of the most vicious beatings I'd ever received, three days in a (thankfully empty) jail cell, and a speedy speedy trial in which I was mysteriously given a slap-on-the-wrist Jenny was there; little bitch waved at me. Waved!

Of course, the trial wasn't all bad. I was in the bathroom during a recess when a stall door swung open, revealing Jenny in all her life-ruining glory. Even as fucked as things were I immediately found myself thinking of things I could do to her in that stall. She was in a Hello Kitty tee, and I happily imagined tying her wrists with it, shoving her to her knees on the bathroom floor, and fucking her face til cum shot out her nose. Maybe even pissing on her, given how badly she'd screwed things up for me.

"Sorry you got caught, Mister," she said, breaking me out of my revenge fantasy. "My dad's real strict."

Like that explained it. I just glared, drying off my hands.

"I hope you don't go to jail or anything, so I uh, wanted to wish you good luck?" She was blushing. Oh, Jesus, did she actually think...

(Un)Fortunately, "wishing me good luck" entailed running to me in a sudden bear hug around my waist that made my heart soar and my cock throb. I could feel her stiff nipples against my leg, even through her shirt and my slacks.

She felt the growing bulge, laughed--I still loved that laugh--quietly and kissed it, nuzzling against my crotch. Public courthouse bathroom. I imagined the fat Georgia security guard walking in to a little girl pressing her face between my legs; pushed her away, headed out in a rush.

The rest of the trial passed without incident. As much as a child molestation trial could, anyway. The judge gave a stern tirade about social responsibility, barred me from the state of Georgia (like I'd want to go back), gave some token punishment and...that was it.

After a few awkward days with my family back in Indianapolis (who cares if I tell you where I'm from by this point), I had everything I owned in one suitcase and found myself stepping off a plane in Santa Barbara Airport.

The banking slip my father gave me promised $100,000 per year, provided I never called the family again. Yeah, that'd be an awesome phone conversation.

Except...what the hell was I supposed to do in Santa Barbara? I'd been given the bum's rush so fast there wasn't a new home waiting for me, or even any friends (fuck if I had any of those anymore).

So I did the logical thing and found the nearest hotel.

Oh, I'm sorry, resort. Yeah, I'd been kind of...used to a life of elegance up til this point, you know? There was no way I was going to stay in some Holiday Inn outside of town, but no way I'd spend the rest of my life in a stuffy luxury hotel away from the ocean, either. What I needed was someplace elite--quiet, with very few patrons to fuck up this valuable time of reflection, and with a staff that knew not to ask questions.

And where I wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of cute little girls, reminding me of all my fucking problems. I needed a beach chair, a few gorgeous legal-aged women to pour some grief into, and a bar of epic size. What, did you think I'd lock myself away in some shithole out of shame?

I should have realized I was setting myself up again, but god DAMN it, I was running on autopilot by the time I arrived at the Lacuna resort. It was a lot bigger than the Jones' Golden Isle place; huge compound, meant for real money, the folks who want their own houses as opposed to their own bedrooms. I moved into my little building, spent an hour throwing my clothes around the room, sobbed a little in the bathtub, and then I was out by the pool.

Girl-watching.

I mean--woman-watching. There's something very soothing about it, you know? Just leering through a set of sunglasses, now from my own darkened corner cabana instead of a beach chair. From behind my drink's umbrella--more of those Plantation Punches--I could see most of the pool deck. This one wasn't some podunk little diving pool and hot tub combo meant for the Golden Isle residents who couldn't afford their own private spas; this was a three-tiered deck that started by the rooms and ended at the ocean waves, with cabanas and beach chairs surrounding a pool filled with former athletes, the occasional movie star, and...oh yes. Women.

There were the California blondes. An army of amazing tits pressing tight against bikinis so sheer they could have been eyepatches, some of them even in fucking thongs, their asses swaying back and forth. Even three days without rest and soaked in alcohol I grinned and toasted them, got a smile back; if I wasn't worth their attention I wouldn't have been there, after all.

There were the Midwestern heiresses, chubbier than their coastal counterparts but fuck if they didn't have great curves. I watched a sandy-haired girl--must have been late twenties--walk by and wondered how well I could fuck her tits. You couldn't do THAT with a ten year old, no sir, even if their nipples got so hard and you could streak their chests and faces with so much cum and they'd giggle and want MORE--

My drink slipped out of my hand, broke on the flagstones.

Fuck.

One of the staff--an array of ubiquitious, polite, and completely invisible Mexicans--swooped in to scoop up the lost drink.

"I get you another," she said softly, "is Plantation, no?"

"Yeah," I muttered, flinging an arm over my eyes, feeling the sunglasses press into my face and willing the visions away.

"Senor?"

I blinked and looked up at her.

"Everything alright?" She asked, radiating worry. Man, she was cute, too, if a little sleepless. They probably had her working til the sunrise out here, picking up meals, catering to folks like me, and here she was in her little floral-print uniform and her Lupe nametag asking if the rich asshole who expected her to clean up his drink was all right.

"Yeah, I'm..."

"Mama!" Called another voice, panicked, on the edge of tears. Accented, obviously Spanish...

A younger voice.

Lupe was away from me immediately, at a run, the glass left at my side. More puzzled than angry I followed her, checking out her butt as she hurried--

To the edge of the pool, just in front of my cabana, to a dark young girl's side. Said girl looked about eleven or twelve--Latina, obviously Lupe's daughter--I almost covered my eyes again, but the sight was seen, and I took all of her in.

Little. Slighter than Jenny, just a bit, and darker skin. Her bathing suit, a tiny one-piece, was clearly a hand-me-down; far too tight on her skinny little ass, emphasizing the crack, oh fuck I had to stop staring as her mother interrogated her in Spanish.

The kid was holding a bleeding knee, and was thoroughly soaked--her black hair was long, plastered down her back, some of it to her cute and plaintive face.

"¿qué sucedió?" Her mother asked. "¡Estoy demasiado ocupado para esto!"

"Me caí. Corté mi rodilla," the girl whimpered. Clearly she'd fallen, gotten a scrape; the knee didn't look all that bad, and I knew every cabana had a medical kit in it what with all the rich unhealthy fucks out on the coast--

"Is she all right?" I asked, again on autopilot. Lupe looked up guiltily, and I noticed the other patrons staring. Another squadron of Paris Hilton Wannabes sashayed by, all of them glaring at the Help making a scene.

"Bring her in here, I'll get her a bandage." I rose and carefully stepped over the broken glass, beckoned the two of them, turned and hunted for the cheery little medkit which was WHAT THE FUCK WAS I DOING?!

"I'm sorry, Senor," Lupe babbled, jerking her daughter along behind her. The girl still looked on the verge of crying, but also curious; she'd clearly never been within more than a few feet of one of these cabanas.

"It's fine, fine," I said, hunting through the medical kit, grabbing a little gauze. "Have her sit by the table there, give her something--" Every cabana had its own little smorgasboard in back of it; fresh fruit. Lupe chattered at her daughter in spanish, casting a look back over her shoulder, and the girl's eyes lit up.

"I'm sorry, Senor," Lupe babbled, jerking her daughter along behind her. The girl still looked on the verge of crying, but also curious; she'd clearly never been within more than a few feet of one of these cabanas.

"It's fine, fine," I said, hunting through the medical kit, grabbing a little gauze. "Have her sit by the table there, give her something--" Every cabana had its own little smorgasboard in back of it; fresh fruit. Lupe chattered at her daughter in spanish, casting a look back over her shoulder, and the girl's eyes lit up.

Within seconds she'd forgotten about her poor widdle wounded knee and was scrambling onto one of the chairs, grabbing for a chocolate covered strawberry, biting into it with a happy little squeal.

Jesus. I felt my dick start growing, willed the erection away, felt my will slipping when she looked up at me with curious, fearless eyes, chocolate around her mouth, her tongue flicking out to take in some of it.

Lupe reached for the bandage, but I waved her away, kneeling in front of this cute little Latina (hell, that rhymes with Lolita! Humbert would be proud--again), radiating professional calm while inside I wanted to beat the shit out of myself and fuck the shit out of her all at once.

"What's your name?" I asked, watching her bounce her knees. A little blood oozed from the scrape, but she didn't seem to care, still gleefully eating her strawberry.

"Aina," she said through a mouthful.

"Hola, Aina," I said, waving the bandage. She giggled. I glanced at her mother, who was frowning, but Lupe said nothing; so I hovered the band-aid over her skin. "Going to put this on you now. Si?"

She hesitated, glanced to Lupe as well.

"...si," her mother said through her frown, eyes on me. I gave the woman a reassuring smile, nodded to Aina, and curled a hand behind her knee. If my touch bothered her, she didn't show it, though her bouncing ceased and now she was more focused on me than on the strawberry.

Her tongue was partway out between her lips, still idly licking at them, as I brought the bandage down. Pressed it in, squeezing tightly, and little Aina bit her lip, pain obvious in her eyes.

"It's okay," I murmured. "Bueno, Aina--" and then I tickled the back of her knee, watching the pain vanish and surprise appear. "--si?"

She shrieked in laughter, jolting in the chair, and as I watched her legs flailed apart. Only for a moment, but Jesus Christ that moment may as well have been in slow motion, because tanned dark thighs spread to reveal a suit so ill-fitting it was actually pulled slightly sideways off her little (hairless, from what I could see) pussy.

I let her go, and her legs stayed open; good thing I still had my sunglasses on, because otherwise her mom would know my eyes were fixated RIGHT on her fucking crotch.

"Gracias, senor," she said, that voice so damn cute...already I could see her mumbling that through an orgasm, that little quim in my face, maybe with her suit pulled to the side right there in the chair—

"Si," Lupe said all sharp and meaningful, and my gaze (locked on her daughter even if it wasn't so obviously on her cunt) snapped back up to her. "Thank you for the help, senor. No afford day care, is summer vacation--they say she can use pool."

"Well, that's nice of them. You like the pool, I bet," I said, all jovial now, but not daring to stand up. My cock throbbed insistent against my leg, and I thought desperately about what to cover up with. The medical kit? No, too unnecessary, she'd wonder why i was holding it. A drink? Wouldn't work and mine was on the floor in pieces. Her little daughter's pussy, bared after the swimsuit'd been ripped off, closed fist-tight around my cock? Oh, fuck yes, if I could manage it...

The menu. I grabbed it and rose, businesslike again, tapping it against my leg. "And I'd like another drink. Could you...?"

Watching me, frowning still, Lupe nodded. "Aina!" she said, expectant, but little Aina wasn't moving; her eyes were fixed on the lunch menu, watching it flutter back and forth, and if I wasn't imagining things she was licking her lips again...

Lupe gave her shoulder a painful squeeze. The girl yelped and slid out of her chair, let herself be tugged along by her mother again. I let them get a few paces, called out:

"Aina!"

She shot a glance back towards me, long black hair whipping water all over her mother's dress. I tossed another chocolate-covered strawberry her way and she caught it with a cheer, jumping up and down on the rest of the way out of the cabana.

I watched that ass bounce.

God damn it.

Lupe was replaced by a hulking, silent man with no nametag after that; he brought me a second, third, fourth Plantation Punch without incident. After that I switched to the local drink, some kind of mango-passionfruit-151 concoction, and by the time I finally stood up to head back inside it was dark and I was wobbling considerably.

I saw the maid cart outside my neighbor's door and thought nothing of it; yet more Mexican ninja staff, slipping in and out and keeping everything in tip top shape for the rich folk. I got to my door, leaned against it heavily, barely noticed the "Your Room Has Been Cleaned" sign.

I had to laugh. I'd trashed this place the second I got into it, getting out the last few days' crap all at once, and within a matter of hours it looked fit to house anyone from Michael Jordan to a rich oil baron from somewhere ending in -stan. They'd even replaced the broken mirror, hooked back up the TV, put a little pair of panties on my bed--

Wait.

What?

I rubbed my eyes, but the panties stayed there, plain white and tiny and stubbornly refusing to disappear. They sat in the center of my huge King Size, slightly crumpled, like someone had sort of...tossed 'em there and forgotten about them.

And then I heard the moan.

Carefully and quietly but not particularly steadily I backtracked to the gigantic room (complex of rooms, really)'s door and made sure I'd entered the right one. I gently swung it open and looked at the dangling sign on the door, realized I'd completely misread. It hadn't "been" cleaned, it was in the PROCESS of being cleaned, and usually if a tenant saw that sign I'd imagine they'd go to the wine cellar rather than deal with any of The Help...

Another moan, a little louder this time, from the bathroom.

Still being as quiet as any drunk and horny half-pedo has ever managed to be I made my way to the mirrored bathroom door. Got a good look at myself--stubble, wide eyes, utter confusion and horniness on my face, and a hard-on obvious even in the dark growing in my swimsuit. I looked past myself, through the crack in the door, and--

I'm pretty sure God hates me. I swear to Humbert.

Either that or he loves me. It's kind of up in the air.

There was Aina from before, out of her bathing suit and in some kind of soft yellow sundress, which was pulled up around her fucking thighs while she sat on the toilet and furtively rubbed at her totally bald cunt. Long as her mane of hair was up top there was not a wisp of it down there, and she was slowly working her fingers over her slit, skinny thighs spread wide. She even looked wet--fuck, she brought up her fingers and licked them!

Made a face, but kept licking, then clumsily rubbed that spit into her pussy. I could see her find her clit again, brush it once, tense and moan, louder this time; it echoed in the bathroom, dying off into heavy, insistent breathing while she played with herself some more.

Obviously the girl's mother had already come through here. Everything was spic-n-span (hah!). But here was Aina herself, masturbating in her clueless way in my bathroom, hoping--what? If she left the sign on the door whoever lived her wouldn't come in and find her?

I remembered a cross around Lupe's neck. Ah, maybe she couldn't do this at whatever hovel her mother was sent to after work. Catholicism thinks playing with yourself is a sin, after all.

I had to wonder what they thought of fucking little girls, because that's what I was doing with my mind by this point.

Watching this girl learn that, hey, rubbing your clit feels awesome! What do you think I saw next? Do you think I saw her realize I was there, get up shrieking, call the Party Van on my ass in broken Spanish?

No. What I saw was one fingernail--oh my God, I thought, pink-painted just like Jenny's--vanish into her tight little cunt, to the middle knuckle. Her eyes went wide--like she was surprised it could go inside or something--and she pushed it in the rest of the way, giggling, moaning, gasping all at once. Unconsciously it seemed, her other hand was drifting to her chest, squeezing one of her completely unformed tits. No beginnings of breasts, like Jenny's; she was flat as a board, but I could see her nipples through the sundress (probably so old and handed down it was a nanometer thick).

Her toes curled in the luxurious carpeting in front of the toilet. She started finger-fucking herself, moans getting more frequent, and I closed my hand around my dick, stroking with her, matching this little girl's pace. Jesus, even her FEET were cute, and if I didn't have such a vivid tableaux in front of me I would've pictured those little feet working up and down my shaft but here they were pawing at the ground as her finger sped up.

And then I felt it. Under my foot, one of the elegant expensive wooden floorboards that made up half the floorspace in this goddamned luxury resort apartment--why hadn't the designer used carpet everywhere, WHY--shifting. Shifting down, too late I tried to compensate, and still there was a long, low, and horribly loud CREEEEEAAAAK.

I froze. Aina froze. For all I knew the entire fucking world froze.

"¿Está alguien allí?" She called, voice shaky. I said nothing; the only sound was the air condition's reassuring hum, and her own echoing gasps. Even now I watched her heaving flat chest, the arousal so obvious there, even as she tried to compose herself.

"¿Hola?" She called again, and here is where I thought I would have a fucking heart attack: "¿Senor?"

When I, being smart, did not say a word, she slowly relaxed. Mumbled "Señor era tan hermoso" and...here I decided that for the moment God loved me again...grabbed at the hem of her dress.

She pulled the whole damn shoddy thing over her head. Just tossed it in a pile next to the jacuzzi across from the toilet, and spread her legs even wider, index finger slipping back into her cunt. Now it came out glistening, and she moaned full force: "Senor..."

The little bitch was masturbating thinking about me.

She still had a lot to learn about herself, that one finger slid in and out clumsy and without tempo, but in and out it still fucked, while she clutched at her right tit--just at her nipple, really, rubbing her palm hard over the skin--and moaned "Senor" again and again and a-fucking-gain.

No doubt about it, she'd seen that hard-on at the cabana; no way she could know this was my room, but I still felt Providence shining down on me.

I also felt a load brewing up in my balls as my hand kept flying up and down on my shaft and I watched her body--god she was so fucking TINY, I could probably lift her up under her ass with one hand--writhe more and more on the toilet. Her skinny legs tensing, untensing, breaths getting shorter, shriller, eyes lidding and finally squeezing shut--

"Se siente bien!" she wailed, hips pushing upward, little body arched up off the toilet, hair drifting down damn near the floor as she threw her head back.

I watched this totally naked little girl cum her brains out in my bathroom, thought about all the ways I was GOING to make her do it from now on, thought about the fact that for all I knew she'd just had her first all-out orgasm thinking about my hand on her leg and the hard-on in my shorts.

And her prudish Catholic mother was cleaning the room next door.

Jesus Christ, how I came so hard in my bathing suit without knocking the door open or making a sound is beyond the reach of science. I came so hard it nearly shot through the fabric, stopped by the waterproofing, darkening the front of my shorts; still I jerked, each stroke in time with the shudders and jolts of the, yes, little brown girl.

She tried to pull her finger out and whimpered. I nearly came again. This time when she looked at her finger--slick and shiny under the bathroom's superbright vanity lights--she didn't make a face, but shoved it into her mouth, slurping noisily, squeezing her eyes shut. Had to clean up the mess, I imagine.

Eventually she just let her hand drop, let it leave saliva-and-pussy-juices-trails down her slowly rising and falling chest and against her still-tense thigh. And sat there, eyes half-lidded, smiling dumbly.

I had a flash of inspiration.

Jenny Jones was a sexy little firecracker to be sure, but she was also the daughter of a rich and powerful man and completely unpredictable. Here, at least, I was the one with the upper hand; and we knew that this lolita wouldn't go admitting to mother what she'd done in a strange man's bathroom.

I crept away from the door, back to the entrance--and noisily slammed it open and shut.

I could hear the pitter-pattering of desperate cute feet as I took my time stumbling to the bedroom. The bathroom door was flung open, lights still on, and she was on her hands and knees on my bed, desperately grabbing at her panties.

"¿Hola?" I asked in mock surprise, staring. Fuck, her skirt was riding up, showing that tight and tan fucking ass...

I frowned, one hand on my hip, other tactically hiding the dark stain from the mess still sticking to my thighs and cock.

"Aina, you can't go around in other peoples' bedrooms. You could get your mother in trouble. Understand? Tu madre?"

Aina shook her head in mute horror, so shocked she didn't even pull down her hiked-up skirt.

"Please, no tell madre, Senor..."

"That you were playing with yourself in my bedroom?"

Her eyes widened further and she looked like she was about to cry. I couldn't be so cruel. "It's okay, bueno," I said, soothing, moving to her, laying a gentle hand upon her back. Her lower back. She didn't seem to object, still staring at me, finally sitting up (damn!). With my hand stroking her back she kind of forgot about the panties in her hand.

"If you leave those with me," I said, pointing to them, and here she blushed and hid her head in her hands, "and come back here tomorrow when your mother is cleaning, I won't tell." I struggled to remember high school Spanish with a sniffling loli showing ass and thigh and leaning into my hand. "¿Entienda? Las bragas aquí, usted vuelve mañana."

She peered up at me, blinking away tears, and looking to the panties.

"Come back?" She asked. Jesus fuck, I wanted to kiss her hard right then, but...

"Come back," I repeated, and what the hell, planted a kiss on her forehead. "Tengo gusto de usted."

Beaming she left the panties on the bed and, a little awkwardly, slipped off to the floor. Her dress caught as she did, hooked on my foot--and pulled up almost entirely, baring tight ass, cute legs, smooth back. I laughed and reached out to playfully swat her butt; she jerked away, laughing too, and made eye contact again.

"Mañana," I said firmly. She nodded and hurried off, slamming the door on her way out, leaving me with a pair of panties and a newly-hard cock.

I flung myself back on the bed.

Fuck.

And that's my bus, so I'd better close up the laptop.

Next time: mañana.

Alternate Ending by Anonymous
Posted in the same thread as the original parts Jenny clamboured over me, her warm juices dripping onto my chest as she did and hovered over my head. Squatting over my face she slowly lowered down. Her juices were dripping like she was leaking, drip drip dripping onto my face. I greedily lapped up the sweet sweet juices.

"Do you like licking my juice Mister?" she asked giggling?

My dick throbbed, I reached for it but she grabbed my hands to stop me.

"No, you're gonna have to wait!" she laughed. I couldn't see her face, just her sweet cunny and asshole squatting over me, but I knew she was smiling.

I noticed her asshole was getting wider. I saw it expand and what...yea, the tip of a poo was poking out.

"Uhm...Jenny?" I asked nervoisly...

"SCAT MUCH?" she said.

I tried to move but she'd immobilised me with her loli beam

"NOW I AM GONNA TEACH YOU A LESSON BOY!" she moved from my head and shtarted shitting on my chest. I could see her eyes turning red and her clit swelling.

I was very aroused but scared because I couldn't move

"a...b...." I started. Words just wouldn't come out.

Her clit swelled until it was larger than my own dick.

"TURN AROUND!" she bellowed.

OH GOD! I thought. In my head I was screaming. She lifted me with her loli powers and spun me around in mid-air. I landed in the doggy-position, still unable to move a muscle.

She ripped into my asshole with her loli-dick. BAM BAM BAM! she pounded me over and over, her sticky warm shit sliding across my chest and slopping onto the floor as she did. The smell was overpowering. My asshole felt like it was being kicked from the inside. I wanted to die.

"YOU LIKE THAT BITCH?" she roared.

I still couldn't speak nomatter how much I tried. I felt like she was ripping my insides apart and then she just stopped. She slowly walked around me until I could just see her loli dick. It really did look just like a gigantic clit in the shape of a penis, that or a skinned cock. It had a thin layer of shit and sweat....my shit and sweat...all over it.

"SUCK IT!"

I couldn't even move my mouth. I wanted to yell for help, to run, but there was nothing I could do. She rammed her shit-covered loli-dick into my mouth, the smell of shit filled my head. She shoved it into my throat. Her loli-powers had disabled my gag-reflex so it went all the way in.

I heard a scream. I strained as hard as I could but it was no use I couldn't see shit.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" she screeched. I could tell from her voice that she was afraid.

"mudkip. mud." was the answer.

"BUT HE'S MINE! YOU'RE NOT HAVING HIM!"

"kip kip. mudkip!"

"BUT!.."

"MUDKIP!"