Sheri Frick - Lust Against Her Will

She came out of the back door of her house, sleek and graceful, all pale, flashing legs and flowing blonde hair, all bright blue eyes and soft, red, perpetually pouting lips, all quick, lithe youthfulness, with a subtle yet easily perceptible aura of sensuality about her that said: She's ready.

Nickie Darcy tossed the thick towel over the back of a lawn chair with practiced expertise, never glancing in the direction of her target. Her eyes were only for the beckoning coolness of the pool, ahead.

The dark knit fabric of her two-piece swimsuit was an inviting contrast to the pale softness of her flesh. The suit was skimpy to begin with, and she had grown-to be sure-since she'd first gotten it the year before.

She was tall for her few years, almost five foot four. But she was fresh-faced, almost childlike in the hints of baby-fat lingering in her lovely countenance.

Her throat was graceful and smooth, an invitation to the lips of lecherous men and hot young boys. It flowed in clean young lines to her slender shoulders. There was a light sprinkling of freckles, so faint that they were almost invisible, across her upper chest.

Everything about her was so like a young girl-child.

Her waist was trim and smooth, her stomach and abdomen fat. Beneath the gentle softness of lingering baby-fat so thoughtlessly pressed by the elastic waist-band of her swimsuit bottoms were taut muscles. She loved to swim and run and ride her bike-and if the sensations of the bicycle seat jostling against her almost hairless little cunt lips and the dormant nubbin of her – clitoris, sending sweet waves of delight rippling through her slender frame, were an added incentive for the journeys down shaded roads, what of it?

Her hips were slender, barely stretched with the onset of puberty. And her ass was the tight, molded, saucy half-moons of a young girl-child, clearly outlined in its perky movements by the tight bottoms.

Her legs were long and slim, trimly athletic and shapely in their gentle curves. Her legs made men think of base pleasures, pleasures that were surely unknown to the finely made girl-child who walked on those marvelous legs.

But if all else about her seemed to say she was but a beautiful girl-child, they were overruled by her breasts.

Her breasts, Nickie's breasts, the breasts of this ‘child' were, in a word, perfect.

Nickie's breasts weren't little girl's boobies, or the pear shaped tithes of a barely pubescent child.

Nickie's breasts were firm, thrusting mounds of creamy sensitive flesh, jutting proudly away from her. Her breasts were the richly curved swells that girls and women years her senior dreamed of, wished for. Her breasts were the shape of half-globes, and tipped with tiny pink nipples that were sooo sensitive and became rigid little points at the least stimulation.

Her breasts weren't the fatty, overabundant knockers of some adolescent girls. Nickie's breasts were as saucy and proportioned as the rest of her-only a bit more so.

She strode to the edge of the pool, her nipples erected and clearly outlined against the sensuous pressure of the too-tight top. She poised at the edge and raised her arms over her head, preparing to dive, the motion lightening her top on her so that the upper swells of her breasts pushed above the line of fabric so that her tight little ass cheeks were clearly shown by the year-old suit bottoms, so that her long legs became still more lean and smooth.

She bent her knees and sprang outward, towards the center of the pool, turning with smooth grace to knife into the glassy surface of the water.

The coolness was an Invigorating shock after the heat of the day. For long moments she explored the bottom, her healthy young lungs holding the air for almost a full minute before letting herself float to the surface,

Her head broke water. Her small, quick fingers went through her wet hair, bringing it back and away from her face, Her cheeks were slightly flushed with exertion and the glistening droplets of water seemed to gleam on her skin.

Languidly, she turned over and floated on her back only her head, toes, and the twin peaks of her snowy breasts breaking the surface.

But Nickie Darcy was an adventurous girl, a girl who loved excitement and new things-especially if they offered the promise of pleasure.

Because Nickie had inherited her disposition and proclivities from her mother and father.

She quickly grew bored with sedate floating and set out to swim ten laps of the pool.

With the same impetuousness she brought to everything. Nickie began kicking and stroking towards the end of the pool, then turned, precisely and strongly, and pushed off towards the other end.

She loved to feel the stretching of her muscles, the strangely satisfying, twinges of pain in calves, and shoulders that came with the exertion. She was aware of-her body, aware of it with a lucidity and appreciation that were not only far beyond her years, but beyond many who lived far longer than she had.

It was in this very same pool, not too many weeks earlier, that she had been horsing around with her brother. It had begun innocently enough, when her brother Ted had pulled her suddenly into the pool. It was purely accidental when he'd torn loose the straps holding the halter of her suit-and exposed her budding breasts to his youthful gaze.

And the knowledge of his eyes on her naked breasts had somehow excited her.

She climbed out of the pool and reached for the towel, luxuriating in the feel of the plush terrycloth against her sensitive flesh. She loved the sensation of touch-perhaps too much for her own good.

Quickly drying off, she-headed back into the house and ran up the stairs to her own room. Almost by reflex, she glanced out through the window of her room at the window on the other side of the patio roof.

It was through that window that she had watched her brother, excited after the pool incident, jerk on his hard, erected young cock until he'd spurted his creamy froth out. Through that window she had seen where he hid the photo-filled magazines that excited him.

She pulled a pair of panties from her dresser drawer, then decided to wear her faded blue-jean cut-off s and a tee-shirt.

She remembered how she'd sneaked into his mom and taken the magazines, how he'd caught her…

…how she'd tugged at his young cock with her own small white hand, duplicating the motions he'd used till he shot his hot spunk all over her quivering, exposed flesh, and how his fingers had worked at her sensitive, toe-ready little candy clit till she'd writhed and come herself.

She was an adventurous girl! A curious girl!

She was her mother's daughter, her father's daughter. She was a hedonist, a sybarite as much as they were.

She finished dressing and padded barefoot down the stairs, then out the front door to go to the mailbox. Her mother was out shopping, her brother still slept, her father away on another-yet another-of the sales trips that kept him away from home for such long periods at a time.

She passed one of the funny little basement casement windows-and remembered the night when Tod had come to her room and led her out through the sweltering night darkness. She remembered so vividly watching her mother and father getting it on in the basement rec room through that window.

And then Tod had eased his throbbing young hardon into her hungry little slit. It was the first time she'd ever had a boy, though she'd stripped away her own cherry the night before, in the steamy bathroom.

There were two magazines, a bill from the phone company and a letter to her mother from Uncle Ernie. Nickie closed the mailbox door and hurried back to her home.

She was just pouring the milk over her cereal when she heard the sound of a car door slamming, then an engine-and by the time the car was roaring off down the street, Nickie was at the window, watching.