Unknown - The willing Usherette

"No, I didn't think you had," Newton Simpson breathed as he stared greedily at the lovely, slender girl before him. "If you do go to work for me this summer you could work at night and on two mornings a week we have meetings of the Film Classics Club. If you worked those mornings that would mean even more money for you and then, if you work out all right, there are… other ways for you to make money. A lot of it."

The handsome man's face was even and calm as he asked again, "Do you want the job, little girl? I think that your mother would like all that extra money. I'm sure she would."

Betsy began to tremble. She was so upset that she didn't know what to say.

Mr. Simpson solved the problem for the startled child, he leaned forward and calmly took the uniform out of Betsy's nerveless fingers and then motioned for her to come to him.

The shocked little girl stood before the man dressed only in a tight, nearly transparent pair of panties. Betsy shuddered. She was so aware of his stare that she could feel his eyes creeping up her slender thighs and over the plump, hairless folds of her virgin sex.

Betsy wasn't certain how it happened. She felt herself moving and looked down in amazement as her bare thighs carried her forward far enough for Mr. Simpson to take her hand and pull. The trembling little girl was so close that their knees touched and she had a clear view of the straining bulge in his slacks.

"Don't be afraid," the handsome man said in a soft voice. "You and I can have a lot of fun together. I can show you things that you never knew about before." His fingers tightened around her wrist as he stared at her near naked body. Betsy was shivering. It was caused by the excitement and the delicious feeling of fear and anticipation that raced along her nerves. The man had positioned her far back on his lap. The nervous little girl's back was pressed against his chest and, what was shocking, she could feel his stiffening, bulging sexual member pressing up against the thin seat of her panties!

"Mr. Simpson? I… I don't think…" Betsy didn't have a chance to finish her meek protest. The handsome man hugged her close and began to whisper in her ear. Each word that Newton spoke to Betsy calmed and settled the nervous little girl.

"Shhhh, Betsy. There's nothing to be afraid of! I won't hurt you. All I want to do is make you feel good." The nearly naked pre-teener shivered, but didn't try to struggle, even when the man's warm hands moved to her bare shoulders, then down. He used a slow, circular movement and with each circle that his hands made over her flesh they dropped lower.

"Haven't you ever let some nice boy do this for you?" the man asked. His voice was deep and husky. "You're such a pretty little thing. Hasn't someone ever put their hands here and squeezed you?"

Betsy gasped and stiffened. Mr. Simpson's warm, soft palms were completely covering the firm little melons of her budding breasts and their pressure felt SO nice!

"Tell me, honey," the man persisted. "Haven't you taken your clothes off for some other man or some kid and let them have you?"

Betsy wiggled uncomfortably, she didn't want to tell the man about Dickie. Besides, he didn't really count. "No, I never did this before." It wasn't really a lie. She'd never sat on a man's lap while he kissed her slender neck and gently squeezed and played with her small breasts like this before!

"I'm glad that I'm the first," Newton sighed. As the man spoke, one of his warm hands dropped away from Betsy's hard little breast and began to creep down over her flat belly. The man used one hand, moving from one sharp nipple to the other. Each time that he pinched and gently pulled at one, Betsy would sigh and wiggle a little against his bone hard erection.

"I can show you some ways to make you feel good, honey. I can show you some tricks that you won't believe!" He sounded excited, too.

Betsy made a soft moaning sound when his fingers reached the elastic waistband of her panties and dipped underneath.

"Do you play with yourself, sometimes? Do you put your fingers in your tight little pussy, baby?"

Betsy felt herself blushing furiously. She wiggled uncomfortably as she nodded. "Yes," the pretty little brunette whispered. "Last year a girl in my class showed me how to do it. My mother says that it's not a nice thing to do… but I still do it, sometimes."

Mr. Simpson chuckled, his fingers were slowly working down over the silky flesh of her belly. The slender twelve-year-old knew where they were headed and the thought made the plump lips of her hairless little slot feel all puffy and hot.

"All mothers tell their children that playing with themselves is wrong, but it isn't. All playing with yourself does is make you feel good, right?"

Betsy would have answered him, but at that very instant his forefinger found the smooth swell of her immature pussy and forced its way between the lips. "Ummmmm, you're getting wet," Newton murmured, pinching one of Betsy's pebble-hard nipples. "You like this, don't you?"

The trembling little girl didn't know what to say. Betsy knew that what she was letting the man do wasn't nice, but she and her mother did need the money, and it did feel good! "Yes, it's nice," Betsy whispered and she was rewarded when the man's finger began to twirl and press against the tight mouth of her tight little cunt, sending hot, blazing jolts of pleasure radiating out through her suddenly overheated body!

Betsy gasped and wiggled. She felt Mr. Simpson's hard-on rubbing against her and boldly pressed her firm, high-riding buttocks against it, making the handsome man groan with pleasure.

"Have you ever seen a man's cock? Have you ever been close to one when it's hard and held it in your hands?" Mr. Simpson's breath tickled her ear and sent chills of pleasure racing up and down Betsy's spine. "I want you to hold my prick, Betsy! Will you do that for me?"

Before she could even think of what to say, the shocked little girl heard her voice rising. "Yes! I mean… I guess… If you promise not to hurt me."

"Oh, no! I don't want to hurt you, honey," the eager manager whispered as he lifted the surprised twelve-year-old off his lap and stood her on her unsteady feet. "You're going to like this! Now let's get these off first." Betsy's hands shook as she helped the man pull her tight panties off and slip them down over her slender thighs.

Looking down, the little girl was surprised and a bit embarrassed when she saw the wet spot on her crotch piece and realized that her tight little cunt was sending down a warm coating of lubricant.

Mr. Simpson had left his jacket in his office. The man leaned back in his chair and smiled boldly at the shocked twelve-year-old as he calmly unbuckled his belt and unzipped the front of his slacks.

Without hesitation, the lovely little girl pressed closer and watched as the theater manager popped the snaps on his shorts and pulled his stiff, hard penis into view! A small sighing sound oozed out of her throat as Betsy stared intently at Mr. Simpson's big dong straining in his fist.

"Oh, my! I thought that Dickie's hard penis was big," the excited little girl thought, "but Mr. Simpson's is three times as large!!" A tingling, itching sensation flickered to life deep in the untouched depths of Betsy's virgin love sheath. She knew how babies were made and what men and women did together in bed. The idea that the man would want to put that big, swollen-looking penis inside of her frightened Betsy, but it was an exciting, bubbly kind of fright and she didn't back off.

"I know it's wrong," the girl told herself, "but we need the money and I want the job!" She was hiding part of the truth from herself. Betsy knew it, but she was having such an exciting time that she didn't want to think about any of that now!

Mr. Simpson had pushed his shorts and slacks down past his knees and he sat half naked in his chair, smiling at her while he pumped his hand up and down his big, scary pole. Betsy trembled as her dark eyes moved from the round, hair orbs of the man's heavy balls, up the white shaft to the red, almost purple knob of his glans.