Unknown: The willing Usherette

The sign on his desk read "Newton Simpson, Manager". Betsy Morrison's dark brown eyes left the sign and went back to the handsome man behind the desk. The dark, slender twelve-year-old felt a trembling tension in her tummy. This was the first time she'd ever tried to apply for a real job, no wonder she was excited.

Newton Simpson looked up from the application that Betsy had just filled out. He was handsome, a little plump, and too well fed. But his black hair was full and neatly combed and he wore a loud but expensive sports coat. In short, he looked just like what he was, a successful manager of a large motion picture theater.

"It says here that you're sixteen, is that right, Betsy?" The little girl tried to smile and look casual under the man's knowing stare.

"Yes… sixteen," Betsy lied.

Mr. Simpson nodded and raised one eyebrow.

Betsy could see that he knew she wasn't telling the truth but the twinkle in his eye told her that he wasn't going to press the issue.

"You understand that your work here would keep you out late? Does your family know that you wouldn't be getting home until after midnight?"

A flicker of a frown crossed the pretty little girl's face before she nodded. "There's just my mother and she says that it will be all right, at least during the summer," Betsy said in a low voice. The pretty girl thought of her mother. Poor Julia, it was terrible for her, widowed only a few months and finding that the money from Daddy's insurance didn't stretch as far as she thought that it would. They needed the money and her mother would just have to get used to the idea of her getting home at midnight.

"All right," Newton Simpson murmured as he pretended to study her application, but Betsy knew that he was really looking up her long, hairless legs and under her short skirt. The pretty brunette felt a warning ripple run along her spine when she realized what the man was doing and she wished she'd worn the longer skirt than she had.

It was embarrassing and upsetting, but for the past half year she noticed that men and bigger boys had started to stare at her and Betsy wasn't certain how she should take it. On one hand, she knew that it was dirty and wrong, but even so she found it sort of exciting and it made her feel good to know that they were looking at her budding body.

"I'm not all that sure that you would be willing to work the extra hours that it requires," Newton Simpson said, watching Betsy closely.

The pretty preteen girl jerked upright in her chair. She had to get this job, it was important!

Before she could speak, the theater manager went on, his eyes never leaving her as he did: "Of course there are… opportunities for an… eager young lady, such as yourself, to make a good deal of money here at the Majestic, but it does take work and long hours."

"Oh, I'd work hard, Mr. Simpson, it's really important that I get the job. My mother and I need the extra money!" There was another reason that Betsy was desperate to be hired. She had been talking to some friends and had bragged that she already had the job. What could the girl say if she didn't?

Seemingly satisfied, Newton Simpson smiled at Betsy and leaned back in his chair. "Come here, honey," the man said in a quiet voice. "I want to take a look at you."

Betsy was forced to spread her thighs as she uncrossed her long, coltish legs and it made the pretty little girl blush when she realized that he could see all the way to her panties when she did.

"We wear a rather… revealing costume here," Mr. Simpson purred to her. Betsy felt herself flush again as she nodded. She'd seen that uniform every time that she came to a movie. "Please go into the other room and see if we have a uniform that fits you."

The manager pointed to a door behind his desk. Pleased that he was still interested in her for the job, Betsy scurried to the door and up to a rack of freshly cleaned usherette costumes.

Without a moment's thought or hesitation, the slender girl unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. The pretty brunette stared at the uniform tops and shook her head as she looked down at her own, cupcake-sized breasts. She had more than any of the other twelve-year-olds that she knew, but she would have to do something to fill any of these uniforms out.

Still concerned about her lack of the large, creamy breasts that she wished she had, the young girl unsnapped her skimpy skirt and let it drop to her feet. All that Betsy wore was a filmy pair of blue panties and she shivered as the cooler air of the room bathed her slim figure from head to toe. The girl was so intent on finding a uniform small enough for her that she didn't stop to think where that draft came from. She didn't notice the door behind her quietly swing open to allow Mr. Simpson to step in and sit in the large chair in the center of the room.

At last, Betsy found one uniform that looked small enough and, taking it from the rack, she turned, planning to try it on.

"Ohhh! I… I didn't know that you would be here, Mr. Simpson!" She was so embarrassed! The slim little girl clutched the plastic shrouded uniform in her hands and tried to hide her naked body from the man's glistening eyes. "I… I'm not… dressed yet!"

Mr. Simpson nodded, only the faintest hint of a smile flickered at the corners of his lips. He made no move to leave. All he did was sit there and stare at Betsy until the trembling girl was sure that he could see through the small uniform that she was holding in front of her.

"Betsy," Mr. Simpson said as he crooked his finger and motioned for her to come to him.

The surprised girl began to inch toward him, but she was still terribly uncertain.

"Come here, honey," the man said. This time, his voice was stronger, more commanding. "Let's get something straight between us. I know that you're not old enough for this job and I know that you want it pretty bad."

Betsy nodded, her wide dark eyes never left Mr. Simpson's face as she obeyed him and came a few feet closer.

"Am I right? You aren't old enough, are you really?"

For a second, Betsy was tempted to bluff her way, but then her courage failed and she hung her head and shrugged helplessly.

"Do you really need this job? I mean do you need this job bad enough to… be nice to me and do what you're told?"

The poor little girl was stunned! Betsy looked at the theater owner with bulging eyes. He hadn't said it in so many words, but the girl knew what he was asking! Simpson smiled and nodded. "That's right, I'm asking if you want this badly enough to have a little fun with me from time to time." The handsome man shifted in his chair and instantly Betsy knew why. The shocked pre-teener could see the front of his pants pushing out as his penis grew erect and hard!!

Betsy flushed and made a small sound deep in her throat as she stared at Mr. Simpson. She knew what a hard prick looked like. She had a friend, Dickie Webber, and they had been playing… games in her garage for over a year. They had not done much, and nothing that they'd done in their fumbling, groping, and touching made her ready to handle the situation she was faced with now!

"I… we need the money," the little girl whispered as she stared at the man. Besides that, Betsy could imagine the scornful looks on her friends' faces when she had to confess that she didn't have the job and the picture made her feel just awful! "But I… I don't know if… I've never done anything like that before. I'm afraid."

Betsy saw the excitement rising in Mr. Simpson's face and she was surprised to feel a strong, pounding sensation in her own untried body.