David Hawthorne - Little Rhonda's initiation

I remember the first time I saw her and I knew immediately she would be mine, my lover. She was one of a bunch of kids that hung out at my place. I had the only pool for miles and I was only too willing to share it with the neighborhood five to fifteen year olds. Of course I had a reason for being so nice. I had more money than any two other people in town-hell I owned the town; well, a large part of it, and I looked on the kids both as mine to watch over and nurture and as my playmates, because they did not have ulterior motives to befriend me, they didn't want to borrow money or get me to invest in their businesses or ideas.

I was forty-four years old and you can say I was a big little boy inside. That's what two ex-wives and half a dozen ex-girlfriends often said: that I was immature and a child inside a wealthy man's body.

Every parent in town knew their kid at my place was safe and that I was a good man. Goes to show what a little care and some money spread around can do. At any given time I was fucking at least four or five of these kids-the little girls, mind you, I didn't have a thing for boys; that was not my thing, and each little girl thought that they were the Special One and the Only One that received my cock into their small pussies and behinds. Took a bit of doing but I had long since mastered the trick of it.

When they got older, when they started to grow big breasts and thick pubic hair, I gently pushed them out the door and into the arms of a boy their own age, but often they were so used to a grown man that they would find older lovers, men in their thirties or forties, and there were always plenty of those who could not resist the flirtations of a sexy teen girl. That's not to say that we never shared a bed again but it was rare and usually followed a breakup. I could resist teen girls, but I could not resist seducing a preteen angel.

Maybe you think I am a monster as you read this.

I am not a monster.

I truly loved all my girls.

I never forced myself on a girl but instead wooed her and let her make the first move and they always did. I used to bet with myself as to when and how a girl would make her play and I was rarely wrong. A lot of these girls needed a strong male figure in their lives because they either did not have fathers or their fathers were losers; and when one showed up and paid attention to them they always got these ideas that they had to please such a man any way he wanted or they might lose him..

Somehow I never got caught although I knew that some of the parents-the drunks and the ones who felt their little darlings were a burden-guessed what I was up to but as long as nobody raised a stink they were willing to let well enough alone. I don't think I ever hurt one of my loves but if I did I never heard about any problems and I certainly never meant to. Most all of them left my bed as willing and playful lovers who I'm sure pleased their boyfriends and husbands to no end, because I taught them all to do every sexual act in the book; they were willing to do some of the most kinky and vile things even prostitutes won't do for money, and they did these things because they knew it made me happy and if I was happy, they were happy.. It's a lot of work to properly break in and train a virgin but I always felt the reward was worth it. There are men out there who owe me, because they didn't have to train their girlfriends or wives how to suck cock and lick balls, that swallowing sperm was sexy, that drinking urine was sensual, that it was possible to have an orgasm during anal sex.

This is all about Rhonda, little Rhonda's love story with me. But where can I properly begin?

The pool…

It always begins at the pool.

She was getting out of the pool by pulling herself up on the side and the bottom of her swimsuit pulled down as she pulled herself up. By the time she belly flopped onto the deck most of her ass crack was exposed-and what a nice cute ass it was too, filling out into womanhood. I watched as she fixed things and noticed the rest of her; she was tall for ten years: five foot six, slender and about a hundred pounds, a flat chest with just a slight hint of nub; by the time she was seventeen, she would probably be six feet tall and a goddess, maybe model material. She had smooth perfect skin and long brunette hair, hair framing a face that told its own story: she was sad, she needed a grown man to replace her father.

Her mother had just moved to town after the death of her husband and knew no one and was desperately looking for work before her money ran out. I was able to ask a few quiet questions and make silent suggestions and soon she had found a job at a local store. The pay was not much but there was enough to feed and clothe them both. After she had settled in I allowed her to hear rumors about my having helped her and when she came over to thank me I downplayed my role as just doing what a good neighbor should. She knew who her benefactor was and that was not a bad thing. I had gradually included Rhonda in the activities at my place and as was my custom I presented her with small gifts. I did this for all the kids, girls or boys, whether or not I had plans for them; I didn't want jealousy to come into lay, or a suspicion of favoritism; I always did it in private but it was no secret that if a kid really needed or wanted something it might just show up. There was no begging or anything like that, the preferred way was for a friend to mention it or for me to notice the need and wait for the proper time to bestow the gift.

Within six weeks, Rhonda was practically living at my house and she tried to call me “dad” once or twice. I told her she already had a father but she could call me Uncle Dave in private if she wished. I insisted that all the kids call me Mister K. in public but allowed the special ones to use nicknames when we were alone.

I never make fats moves; seduction takes time, and I am a patient men. Some girls it took me a year or two, if I started when they were seven or eight…I gradually manipulated them into making that first sexual move, the kind I would act surprised of, but would never reject.

It only took about three months before one day I found her swimming topless. I joked with her about having lost something but she looked serious and asked if I thought she was pretty. Her breasts had grown slightly more and she was a few weeks away from turning eleven.

I said, “Little girl, you have a beautiful body and you know it.”

She said, “Not my body, Uncle Dave, I want to know if I'm pretty, not if I have a nice ass.”

She seemed troubled by something and as I wondered what if she slipped out of her swimsuit bottom and posed nude for me? She did have a nice little slim ass and I was hoping to see it in the raw soon…and soon touch it, lick it, fuck it.

She said, “Well am I pretty or am I goofy looking?”

Gently, I said to her, “All right now, Rhonda, what's bothering you?”

Oh, I was enjoying the view of her chest and brown nipples; it was the first time I had seen her naked and her body was perfect for my needs.

She sighed and told me, “One of the older girls said I was 'goofy-looking' and told me to stop trying to act and look normal. She said that I was weird and wanted me to go away. Told me that everyone was laughing at me and nobody really liked me. That they all thought I was stupid and dumb.”

“What girl said this?”

“Lonnie.”

The tears were flowing now and she just stood there looking like she believed this preteen cruelty. I knew this was common for tall thin girls her gave, taller than all the other girls, and how tall girls could be gangly and awkward.

I scooped her up into a hug and carried her inside to sit with me on the couch. I was very aware of her naked body flanking mine and it was all I could do not to just take her right there. I know she would have let me but the time was not right, I like to have my special girls come to me because they really want me and not because they are in pain and need a quick fix of love.