Sonja - My Personal Sex Journal

Dear Diary:

I was coming home from school today and you won't believe what happened to me! I was raped… Well… Almost! I mean, it was like the same thing, like some big, ugly man had jumped out of the bushes and stuck his dirty cock in my little slittie and just fucked me silly. I mean, it was almost the same thing…

When Annie left the school grounds, she was already excited. The seat of her bicycle was pulsing hot from the sun and her cunt mini-skirt wasn't much protection when she got on the bicycle. The hot leather seemed to bum right through the thin nylon of her panties and her fat, little cunt lips were pressed reluctantly against the seat. Hurriedly, she started pedaling, standing up as she pumped the bike into motion. But the damage was already done. The soft, hairless lips of her slit were so agitated that the motion of her thighs as she pedaled the bicycle was enough to create a rising excitement in the little girl.

On her bicycle, Annie was a postcard maker's delight. Her dark, curly hair blew out behind her exposing a cute face, innocent with a stubby nose and wide brown eyes. Her gay miniskirt, with its tiny primroses on a bright yellow background, was made all the more interesting by the soft swell of immature breasts that just barely poked the material out from the flatness of her chest.

Her buttocks sloped back. A man looking on, the way Hal Green was doing, couldn't help but think that his hands would cup those soft cheeks almost perfectly with room for his fingers to slide between her slender thighs and stroke her pure little box.

The thought was so strong that Hal Green wanted to turn away when he saw Annie pedaling her bike down the boardwalk along the beach. But he couldn't. The girl's miniskirt was so short that as her knees came up, Hal imagined he could see the white crotch of her panties.

He stared, and after a moment, he was sure. He could see the flashes of white between the naked flashes of her soft inner thighs which were tanned an even, golden brown.

It might have stopped there, the girl riding by and the man continuing his stroll, but Annie chose that particular place to stop her bike and try to relieve the frantic itch that had been building up.

It was embarrassing. At least to Annie. The itch had started with the hot bicycle seat and had grown and grown until it seemed to the girl that she was being consumed by the itch in her crotch.

She desperately wanted to scratch, but she couldn't do that. At least, not there on the boardwalk where everyone could see her.

There was only one thing to do, and Annie did it. She slid forward on her bike saddle and then glided back, forcing the slick saddle leather against her crotch with the limit of her strength. It felt good. But not enough. So she did it again. And again.

Thrills of strange pleasure started shooting up through Annie's, body as she rocked her cunt back and forth on the bike saddle, working the tip against her soft, squishy crotch. She knew by then that her white nylon panties were soaking wet and that the bicycle seat smelled terrible, but that wasn't enough to make her stop doing it. The rubbing just felt so good that she couldn't stop.

Annie slid her butt forward on the slippery leather and sighed, luxuriating in the swift, gliding feel of the smooth saddle between her sleek thighs and the pressure on her little girl slit. She was oblivious that around her the sun was shining, the sidewalk was practically shimmering with heat and that white and tiny, fluffy clouds scudded overhead across the blue sky.

The sight of a twelve-year-old girl masturbating herself on her bicycle seat was out of place in that setting. But it was happening. Annie sat on her bike on the edge of the seawall and did it faster and faster, her cute little: butt practically shimmying on her seat as she dragged her excited twat lips across the end of the saddle. She became faint with the effort of trying to move faster and faster while the waves roared and pounded at the foot of the seawall twenty feet below her.

Oh, Annie thought, what if it sticks in me?

The girl imagined the pointed saddle horn getting rammed between her hot little lips and shivered with delicious fright. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. The feeling that something was going to happen was building in her.

Faster and faster her crotch sawed at the saddle. Her short skirt flipped frantically up at each back and forth thrust. The material practically snapped in the warm air and there was no doubt that she was exposing her crotch and panties to anyone who cared to look.

Hal Green looked. Standing rooted to the spot, barely ten feet from the girl, he couldn't move. His cock felt as big as an elephant's trunk in his pants. He was sure that everybody could see it. But he didn't care. What counted what watching Annie though he didn't know her name at the time.

The girl was standing as if transfixed, staring out to sea. But her eyes were blank and her pretty little mouth was open. Her pink lipstick-less lips trembled as if she were being transfixed, and her hips kept swaying back and forth.

Hal couldn't be sure! That was part of what griped him. Her skirt covered her thighs and the bicycle seat and he wasn't sure that her cunt was actually touching the seat. He knew he could just be imagining things-seeing more than there was to see. But he didn't think so. His cock, definitely, didn't think so. His balls were so full and heavy in his pants that he moved with difficulty when he did move.

Hal approached the little girl on the green bicycle with some trepidation. He assured himself that his intentions were honorable. He just had to find out if the girl in the bright yellow mini-dress was being naughty. It was his duty to reprimand her. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Are you lost, little girl?" he asked.

Annie's mouth closed with a snap and she froze. The terrible tingling shot through her and she was still itchy between the legs. She wished she could have gone on and on for a long while, but somebody was noticing her and it was time to go. Only her legs felt so weak she couldn't start pedaling.

"Are you lost, little girl?"

Annie shook her head and her curls bobbed.

"No sir," she said. Her voice was weak and uncertain. She was acutely aware of the wetness between her legs and the way her soggy panties stuck to her skin like they were glued on. She shivered. Maybe he knows, she thought. A tingle started in the hot slot between her thighs and drilled straight up her little pee hole and Annie felt like she had to take a pee right then and there. She was dizzy and lightheaded and the bicycle seat was poking between her legs and rubbing the little button there and sending guilty shocks of sexual feeling soaring through her body-thought she didn't know the feeling was sexual.

"Are you ill?"

Annie stared at the man. He was tall and sort of thin. Maybe he was as old as her daddy who was almost forty, and he had a little grey in his black hair. His face wasn't handsome, but it seemed kindly to her and Annie nodded her head in automatic agreement that she wasn't feeling altogether right.

"Well, would you like to come to my house and lie down?" Hal Green had to gulp when he asked that question. His cock was pressing so painfully against his trousers that he could barely walk. He knew that he didn't want Annie to go to his house because she was ill. Don't do it, his conscience screamed. And his prick got sweaty with fear that he would listen to his conscience after all.

"Yes," Annie said. "I would." And she got off her bike and walked alongside the nice man and tried not to think about that terrible itch between her legs.

Hal Green lived in a rented house that faced on the boardwalk. It was white with green trim around the windows and fake storm shutters that wouldn't close. The yard was full of flowers protected by a white, picket fence.