Vincent Church - Degraded teenager

Wendy walked around naked, her teenaged body budding at several interesting spots.

Her tits were just beginning to form now, pushing out firmly from her chest, the nipples permanently erect red buds that would be just right when they got a little bigger and she got a little older. They would be perfect for a man (or a woman, for that matter) to suck on and lick all wet and juicy and make her all tingly and ready for anything.

But that was for the future, of course. That was for the grown-up girls, letting men paw them and put their fingers in the hairy holes that grown-up girls had to offer. And it was for girls older than Wendy to play with the toys a man could show. Those big, stiff pricks she had heard so much about. Oh yes, she'd heard about all the strange things you could do with them. She couldn't wait to have one deep inside her young pussy, and she couldn't wait to have one in her mouth, to see what it tasted like, and to suck on it till it gave her that hot, sticky, metallic fluid which she had also heard so much about.

Yes, there was a lot awaiting her as soon as she came of age. But that was not for several years. She was only just thirteen years old. She was much too young to have a man sticking his cock in her pussy – or so she had been told. But it was a little bit frustrating, and she couldn't keep from desiring such a supposedly tremendous experience as everyone kept telling her sex was. The thought of doing it someday made her young, pink pussy simply drool with excitement.

Yes, one day she would have a young man who liked her a lot, and he would want to fuck her. Then she would have his cock to play with, to suck on, to stick in her cunt, to do all the exciting things she had heard about.

She had talked with her girlfriends who had actually gone ahead and let a boy fuck them, and they all told her the experience was fabulous and unforgettable. But she was afraid to go ahead and do it. It was safer, much safer to remain a virgin, even if a horny one.

After all, she didn't want a baby, for gosh sakes!

She could wait. She would have to.

Until the time came for her to get married, or anyway to have an affair, she would have to make do with something less drastic than fucking.

Namely, masturbating. That was her favorite sport by that time in her thirteenth year. She loved to run her fingers through her pussy and make herself get wetter and wetter. And then came the fateful climax, making her shake and quiver and come.

Ah well, better not to think about such things. It only got her feeling ready to jerk off once again, and that was a risky thing to do.

So she skipped down the street, not thinking about sex at all – if she could help it.

Mr. Ogden wanted to see her. He beckoned her to come into his house. What on earth could Mr. Ogden want? she thought to herself.

But, since he was the father of her best friend, she couldn't exactly refuse to go and see what he wanted. It wouldn't be right at all.

Tish, her best friend, was out doing something very very naughty, but her father wouldn't know about that, of course. Wendy hoped he wouldn't ask her about it.

Tish was such a sexual creature, she couldn't get along for any extended period of time without having a cock to suck on or sit on, or some boy (or girl) that she could put her naked and open pussy upon. She liked that a lot – being eaten out, having a wet tongue, male or female, stroking the labes of her young pussy and twirling around on her pink, hard clit. That was fun, all right. Like Wendy, she was sometimes forced to resort to masturbation, but not very often, for Tish was a lot braver and more aggressive than Wendy and most of the other girls at school. Tish usually got what she wanted which was usually a boy of seventeen or eighteen with a long cock that could work on demand.

But that was Tish, and not Wendy. She felt guilty about talking to Tish's father when Tish wasn't there. She felt uneasy possessing all that secret knowledge about the man's daughter and not wanting to let on any of it. She wondered if by any chance he was going to ask her about Tish's private life.

She hoped not. There was very little she was willing to say. After all, she didn't want to lose Tish as a friend, and that would surely happen if she let Tish's father know about what the girl did, especially where the opposite sex was concerned. In that department, she had a whole lot, and Wendy was sure Tish didn't want her father to know about it. Her mother, that was a different story, for Tish's mother was reportedly every bit as wild as her daughter.

"Come on in," Lew Ogden said. "Come on inside, honey, I want to talk to you."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"That's a good girl."

She gulped. She wondered what was to come.

Wendy didn't suspect a thing when Lew Ogden asked her into the house. She and Tish were the best of friends, and Lew and Penny, the girl's parents, were almost like family. She went willingly, thinking Lew wanted her to perform some chore Tish had left undone.

The first hint that something was wrong came when Lew suggested she take a sip from his highball. He had offered her things before – money mostly. She remembered her thirteenth birthday, mere months before, when he gave her an envelope with $25 in it, and offered her $25 more if she'd sit on his lap. But she knew about that! She knew about the hard thing in his pants leg, what it was for, and where he wanted to put it.

"W-Where's Tish?" she asked now, knowing the girl was out joyriding with two older boys from school, but needing something to say.

Lew drank deep from the highball. He left half an inch of booze and handed her the glass. She drank to be polite, and gagged. He laughed. "If I know Tish, she's getting laid right about now," he said matter-of-factly. "Her and Penny both. They fuck like crazy – anybody."

She blushed, unable to think of anything to say. She'd heard her parents say the same thing about Penny Ogden. But hearing it from Lew was somehow different. She felt the hot blood flooding her cheeks as the warmth of the liquor began to spread through her belly. Lew often talked dirty, but had never before been so bold. Her gaze dropped to his crotch. She stifled a gasp. The front of his pants bulged as if he had a crowbar in there. She wanted to run, to get out of there before…

"What you need is something to wash down that drink," said Lew. He moved to the bar at the far side of the living room and refilled the glass. He winked at her, pouring soda in with the gin and vermouth.

The liquor had already begun to make her dizzy, and she didn't want any more. But when he sat on the sofa and patted the cushion, she stepped forward, heart thumping. Lew was handsome, not very old – she supposed he was still in his 30's – and although she was frightened by sex, and had never let a boy do more than feel her small titties, the thought of a grown man wanting her was exciting.

"I-I have to get home," she whispered when he moved close, put his arm around her shoulders, and held the glass to her lips. Again she sipped. It tasted better this time.

Lew turned the glass and ran his tongue over her lipstick smear. "Um. You taste good."

She watched him gulp. For no reason she could think of, she giggled. She felt silly, light-headed. Flirting, she was learning, was fun. She became conscious of the patch of red curly hair between her young thighs. She glanced down; the hem of her mini was too high.

"You've got nice legs for a kid," observed Lew, grinning as she tugged at the garment.

"I'm not!"

"What?"

"A kid!" She turned sideways, bringing her knees up on the sofa. She knew she had nice legs – knew she was nice allover. All the boys at school wanted to touch her. Even Daddy had begun to look at her in that funny way lately.