Ken James Fiction

 

Barely Legal 1

"She's too cute to be a minute over seventeen." The line from the Chuck Berry song "Little Queenie" was the first thing that came to my mind when I saw her.

I'd taken a day off in the middle of the week to run a bunch of errands and surprised myself by finishing slightly before noon. Since I wasn't very hungry or in the mood for a fancy place, I stopped at Taco Bell on the way home.

The girl was ahead of me in line with two boys. The boys were about her height. Both had dark hair and short pony tails. One had the sides of his head shaved. They were both wearing baggy dark shorts and T-shirts. I didn't look at them too closely. She was the one who grabbed my attention.

She was a little more mature than I'd first thought, at least eighteen, with straight shoulder length blonde hair and pale white skin. Her face was rather ordinary with icy blue eyes set in square Germanic features, pleasing but not spectacularly beautiful. She was fairly tall, probably 5' 10", and quietly muscular, with a tiny waist and flat stomach. Her breasts were the size and shape of half-baseballs.

The thin fabric of her purple tank top clung to her breasts as if sprayed on, clearly outlining her upturned nipples. The tank top ended just below her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. Her tight blue jeans rode low on her hips. In back, two symmetrical holes frayed into the fabric a few inches below her waist revealed tiny white patches of buttock.

My penis was already swelling as I imagined putting my hands and mouth on her lithe body. I doubted if she'd developed much sexual technique. She was at the age when she could please a boy simply by opening her muscular thighs and letting him into her tight young pussy.

While waiting for my order, I tried to be unobtrusive, but I couldn't stop staring at her. She seemed to sense something. A couple of times, I caught her returning my gaze with a pleased half-smile.

The place was crowded and I was disappointed when she and the boys found a table at the far end of the room. All I could see was her gleaming blonde hair and an occasional glimpse of her face. I gulped my ice tea and took another good long look at her while refilling my cup. She and the boys were talking in low intense voices. They finished eating and stood up. I followed her with my eyes as she walked out the door.

The world seemed drab and flat after she disappeared from view. I spent several minutes finishing my now-tasteless meal, threw my trash into the bin and stepped out into the bright sunlight.

She and the boys were standing beside an old car at the far end of the parking lot, obviously arguing. "Fuck you!" I heard her exclaim, just before she stalked away. The taller boy started after her and grabbed her arm. She jerked free and stomped off, ignoring his protests.

Leaving the parking lot, she walked to the edge of the curb, spread her legs, tilted her hips, lifted her chin, inflated her chest and stuck her thumb out. Any man driving past that didn't get a hard-on at the sight was probably dead. I jumped into my sports car and pulled out into the street, stopping beside her. "Going north?" she asked.

"Sure am!" We both knew my answer would have been the same if she'd said she was going to China.

"Great!" She was grinning as she climbed into the passenger seat and gave me directions to her house. Her name was Tracy. As we were driving to the freeway, she mentioned she was finishing her freshman year in college. She looked so young I had trouble believing that, so I asked her a few questions about classes and quickly concluded she was telling the truth.

"So, what's your name?" Tracy asked.

"Bob Johnson."

"Cool!" she answered with a slight giggle. "Like the blues guitar player who inspired all the English musicians. Do you play?"

"Not guitar. I've had a few classical piano lessons."

"I play classical piano, too." Tracy said. "But I'm mostly a rock guitarist. I'm in an all-girl band named 'Fishnet Barbie.'"

"This is a nice car," she said, leaning back luxuriously in the bucket seat. "I'll bet it's a real babe magnet."

"It can be, but I don't really need it for that." Traffic was light and there didn't seem to be any cops, so I took a slight chance. We did the twelve miles to her exit in seven minutes, smoothly passing the other cars as if they were standing still. At the last moment, I maneuvered onto the exit ramp and decelerated smoothly, gliding to a stop at the light.

She licked her lips, impressed in spite of herself. "That was macho," she remarked.

"Naw, just fun." That was a lie. Of course, I was trying to impress her. It seemed to have worked. Her eyes were wide, she was breathing hard and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off me.

Her gaze wandered from my face to my muscular arms and chest, down to my flat belly, lingered on the stiff fabric of the shorts concealing my crotch, checked my legs and moved back to my face.

"Bob, I just realized," she announced. "You're older than you look. Almost thirty."

"Something like that." Her estimate was in the right decade, almost.

"But you're in really good shape . . . for an old guy," she continued.

"Ever heard 'Use it or lose it?'"

"Those are cute shorts," she said, eyeing the bulge in the fabric.

"It's just stiff cloth. They always look like that."

The index finger of her right hand was slowly circling her left nipple. "Yeah," she said huskily. "Turn right at the next corner. It's the fourth house on the left. You can park in the driveway. Dad's in Chicago until Friday and Mom works in San Antonio and only comes home on weekends."

"Mom and Dad are cool," Tracy added casually. "They arranged for me to get on birth control when I started dating boys."

"You want to come in?" she asked after we'd stopped. "I can fix you some ice tea or something."

I followed Tracy through a large living room dominated by a concert grand piano and into the kitchen. She stopped in the middle of the floor and turned to face me. "Should I take my top off now?" she asked directly. Her tone was neither playful nor angry and the expression on her face was neutral.

Halting about three feet away from her, I responded, "Why should I want you to do that?"

"So you can see my tits," she answered. "You've been looking at them every time you had the chance while you drove me here."

"They are beautiful tits," I admitted, "and it's hard to stop admiring them. But I'm more interested in your pants."

A touch of concern crept into her expression. "What about my pants?" she asked.

"I want to know if you're wearing panties under them," I answered, slowly directing my gaze from her face down to her waist and back up to her face. "Those holes you frayed in the back just show bare skin."

Now Tracy was frowning slightly. She took a slow deep breath while she considered her reply. I watched the result admiringly. "What makes you think you're going to find out?"

"Look me in the eye and tell me you weren't flirting with me on the drive over here," I answered. "If you're not interested, I'll take off."

Tracy glared, opened her mouth to say something, then paused. She closed her mouth and stared at my face for several seconds. She took another slow deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out with a sigh. "Okay," she purred, smiling as she stepped toward me, "I do want you . . . real bad."

She put her hands up to my cheeks, put her open mouth hard against my mouth, her body flat against my body.

My arms went around her, holding her to me, my hand cradling her head, its fingers half lost among blonde hair, a hand moving fingers over her slim back.

Tracy's tongue stroked mine. Her breasts were pressed so tightly against my chest I could feel her nipples hardening. Her loins ground against mine.

I slid my palms down to cup her buttocks, placing an index finger over each bare spot in her jeans. Her eyes snapped open and her pupils widened in surprise at my steady gaze.

She put both hands on my hips and pushed me a few inches away, just enough to put her hands between our bodies. She unzipped my shorts and reached inside. "No underwear," she muttered as she explored. "Oh God!" she exclaimed an instant later. "You're so big and hard!" She caressed me briefly, then withdrew her hand. My stiff member followed it out my fly and stood at attention for Tracy's inspection.

"That's a real monster," she gasped, staring admiringly. "I can't wait to see how much cream comes out of it."

"You're not going to see it shoot," I stated flatly. Tracy's gaze snapped up to my face. She regarded me with shocked eyes. "You're not going to see it," I repeated, pausing significantly. "You're going to feel it."

"Where am I going to feel that hot white stuff shooting?" Tracy asked, getting into the game. "Are you going to spray it between my breasts? That would be fun."

"Maybe some other time. Think lower."

"My belly?" she asked innocently. "A boy did that once before I even got my pants off."

"Even lower."

"Between my legs?" Tracy asked, looking back down at my hardness.

"Deeper."

Tracy gasped in mock horror. "You mean you're going to shove that monster cock into my tight helpless little pussy and fuck me like an animal until you spew your sperm into my cunt?"

"You got it, Doll."

She stepped backwards a couple of paces, stopping when she bumped into the heavy metal and glass kitchen table. Her chest was heaving as she stared at me with wild eyes. Suddenly, she kicked off her sandals and started unbuttoning her jeans, exposing a tiny thong made from the same thin purple cloth as her top.

Tracy stepped out of the jeans and dropped them to the floor. "Come on," she gasped. "Take me right now." It was a command.

It only took seconds to shed my shirt and shorts. As I approached her, Tracy grabbed my hand and put it inside her thong. She was already hot and wet. I pulled the thong off and tossed it over my shoulder. Her sparse pubic hair was blonde.

I put my hands on Tracy's hips and lifted her onto the kitchen table. It was the perfect height. An instant later, she was on her back with her knees folded and her open pussy sticking out. I positioned myself between her spread thighs and placed my cock head against her slit. "I'm ready," she announced, her eyes burning with lust. "Ram that big thing into me right now." An instant later, she screamed, a long scream of intermingled pleasure and pain.

I didn't really ram, but I wasn't too slow and gentle, either. In a moment, my entire length and thickness were inside her and my balls were pressing hard against her pussy lips. I paused for a few seconds, both to let her recover from the shock of my sudden entrance and to keep myself from instantly popping.

Tracy's eyes were swimming with tears. After she blinked the water away, it took another instant for her eyes to come into focus. They locked onto my face, burning with lust. "I'm okay," she growled. "Fuck me the way I need it."

My first few strokes were slow, but it was obvious that Tracy was ready for me. I gripped her thighs tightly to hold her in position on the table and quickly increased the speed of my thrusts.

Tracy didn't ask me to "talk dirty," like some girls. She did her own talking.

"God!" she gasped, "I never realized how much I needed your cock. Your big fat cock. Stuffed in my tight little hole. Ramming my cunt. I've always needed a fuck. This fuck. Your fuck. Fucking me . . . so hard . . . so fast . . . so big . . . so tight . . . Oh, Daddy!" Her words trailed off into inarticulate moans.

I angled my penis to rub her clit as I thrust roughly into her.

Suddenly Tracy propped herself up on her elbows, lifted her head and stared into my eyes. "I can feel your cock-head making my pussy walls ripple," she suddenly announced. "I never knew a man could do this to me." Her body started shaking and her elbows collapsed. The table's glass top made a slight ringing sound as her head struck it.

"Wow Daddy!" Tracy moaned. "I've never come like . . ." She suddenly screamed as she continued writhing on the table. "Again . . . Oh! And again. Oh God! Your cock! My cunt! My come . . . over and over . . ."

All the thrashing and moaning and thrusting were too much for me. Tracy's eyes snapped open as she felt my climax explode into her body. She slammed her pussy up against my groin and ground her pubis against mine as my juice flooded into her in long hard pulses.

Finally spent, I slowly collapsed on top of her. She had gone limp beneath me. We were still for several minutes, gasping for breath. Then my mouth found hers and our lips locked into a seemingly endless kiss.

Eventually, my elbows were becoming numb from supporting the majority of my weight. My legs weren't too steady, either. I lifted my face so I could smile down at Tracy. "Do you smoke after sex?" I asked in a husky whisper.

"Hell no," she muttered dizzily. "I really hate fucking cigarettes."

"That was a joke, Darling," I answered. "The correct answer is 'I don't know. I've never looked.'"

Tracy looked blank for about two seconds, then laughed heartily. "If my pussy isn't smoking, its because all that juice you shot into me put the fire out," she said.

"Spoken like a real cock-happy slut, Doll. You're my kind of woman."

"Call me 'Baby' or 'Baby Doll' . . . please," Tracy purred. "You're right, I am a cock-happy slut," she continued thoughtfully. "I never thought of myself that way, but it makes me feel good and, well, proud, to hear you say it."

"Welcome to real womanhood, Baby Doll." I gave Tracy another long kiss, then lifted my upper body off the table.

After I'd helped Tracy to her feet, she looked down at the table and laughed. "Look at the mess!" she exclaimed. There were marks left by her sweaty buttocks and back, as well as a puddle of mingled male and female fluids near the table's edge.

"I'll clean it up," I said.

"Okay," she answered. "But first I want to lie down for a while. In bed. With you." She took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom.

It was a medium-sized room, decorated largely with rock and roll posters. Heavy drapes shut out the bright sunlight, keeping the interior dark as night. The major furnishings were a chest of drawers, several bookcases, a paper-littered desk with a computer, an office chair, an antique brass-bound chest, and a double bed with a nightstand on either side. There was an electric guitar on a stand in one corner, plugged into a small amplifier. A giant mirror covered most of the wall with the door. Candles occupied almost every flat surface except the desk. Tracy lit the candles while I folded the quilt and set it on the chest of drawers.

Tracy was still wearing her top. Her swollen nipples were clearly visible through the sweat-soaked fabric. I caught her hand as she reached for the light switch. "I want to see your breasts in the bright light," I said.

"Sure," she said, smiling. "Although you can see them pretty good right now."

"Yeah," I replied, "but I want to see them bare."

"I'm glad you like them," Tracy answered, pulling the skimpy fabric over her head and dropping it on the floor. "I just wish I had bigger tits. I'd like to hold a cock between them, like I've seen in photos." Her breasts were the same creamy white as the rest of Tracy's skin, with no tan line and nipples darker than I'd expected.

"Your breasts are perfectly formed and absolutely beautiful. I want to worship them," I said, reaching out to caress her firm mounds.

Tracy sighed with pleasure as her nipples grew even harder under my palms. "Come on," she said, taking a step backward. "You can worship them in bed." She switched off the overhead light. Her pale hair and skin glowed in the golden illumination from the myriad candles.

In bed, I thoroughly kissed and licked every square inch of Tracy's breasts, then moved slowly up her neck to her cheeks, ears, eyes and finally to her mouth. As soon as our lips met, she rammed her tongue into my mouth and kissed me with an almost alarming fierceness. Tracy worked a hand between our bodies, gripped my cock, and guided it to the blazingly hot spot between her legs.

"No," I said, gently but firmly pulling away. "I'm not ready, yet."

"Not ready!" she exclaimed. "You've been stiffer than a steel rod the whole time you've been here. Are you taking Viagra?"

"I don't need it," I answered, grinning. "That's just the way you turn me on."

"Don't worry," I continued. "You're going to get more of my big stiff cock, but I want to do something else before I put it back into your wonderful little cunt. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, "but I can't imagine anything better than you fucking me again."

"Think of food," I said as I spread her thighs and moved my head between her legs. "A great main course needs a really good appetizer."

I spent a long time eating Tracy out, sucking her clit and finger-fucking her pussy. She sobbed and convulsed from multiple orgasms. When I finally stopped, she said, "Lie down on your back. I want to try doing that for you." She went down on me as if her mouth was even more cock-starved than her snatch. Her enthusiasm far exceeded her skill, but she had an instinctive feel for what gave me pleasure and she soon had me on the brink of orgasm.

"You're really good," I gasped. "Do you want me to come in your mouth?"

Tracy abruptly stopped sucking me. "I'd like that sometime," she answered, "but right now I want to feel you squirting more hot juice into my pussy."

"I've done this before," Tracy said, practically purring with satisfaction, "because boys really wanted me to. I didn't really like it with them, but you're different."

Tracy was rubbing my cock-head against her nipples as she spoke. "I'll come on your tits if you keep doing that," I commented.

She let go of my cock. "I made the boys I sucked shoot between my breasts, but I would like you to cum in my mouth, so I can swallow your stuff. It feels so good sucking you, I could do it all day. I guess I just can't get enough of your big beautiful cock. You even taste different."

"You've never sucked a guy who just finished fucking your brains out," I replied, pulling her up to straddle my hips. "My cock's coated with your pussy juice mixed with my cum." I kissed her before she could respond.

When we paused for breath several minutes later, Tracy said, "I sort of tasted it while we were kissing, too. That makes sense, considering where our mouths have been. Something tells me I should be really grossed out, but I'm not. In fact, it's making me horny." She giggled suddenly. "I guess it's the taste, combined with your cock-head rubbing my clit."

Tracy moved forward several inches, then rotated her pelvis. My hard cock slid smoothly into her open pussy. "That's right, Baby," I gasped as she tightened her muscles around my stiff pole. "Ride my pony."

"That's no pony," Tracy answered as she began moving up and down. "That's a full-grown stallion. My Daddy-man's stallion!" She closed her eyes to concentrate on the feelings her slow sensuous motion was generating. After a long silence, she moaned, "I love having my pussy wrapped around your stiff prick!"

She was moving fast now and I was getting perilously close to orgasm. I put my hands around her waist and gently reduced her speed. "Let's make this last," I whispered.

"Okay," Tracy replied, looking slightly startled. "But it's really hard to slow down when I want you to pound the hell out of me."

"You'll see. It's worth it," I answered. Tracy gasped in shock and disappointment when I gripped her waist and lifted her off my cock. "Get on your hands and knees in front of the mirror," I commanded. It only took Tracy seconds to move into position on the carpet. I reentered her from behind and began fucking her with long slow strokes.

Tracy stared at her reflection as she moved in time with my thrusts. I stroked her long silky hair. "Have you ever seen your face while you're getting fucked?" I asked gently.

"No," she whispered. "I look like I'm in heaven. Is that the expression I had before? All this excitement and wonder?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I wanted you to see how beautiful you look."

"You look really wild," she said. "Sort of like a painting of Pan."

I admired my wolfish grin in the mirror. "Maybe I am Pan," I growled.

"I can believe that," Tracy sighed. "A mere mortal couldn't be screwing me this good. I love the way we look in the mirror. It's a pity I can't see your cock sliding in and out of my pussy."

The brass-bound chest was within reach. I pulled it into the middle of the room. Holding Tracy so that she remained impaled on my dick, I rose from the floor and sat down on the chest. When Tracy's feet were planted firmly on the floor, I spread my legs. The mirror gave her a clear view of our united genitals. In that position she would have to do most of the work, but I didn't think that would be a problem.

Tracy moaned with pleasure as she stared at the erotic image in the mirror. "Oh god," she gasped. "I am beautiful when I'm getting fucked. I always thought I was sort of ugly; too thin with a plain face and tiny tits."

"You've beautiful," I whispered in her ear. "If the ancient Greeks saw you, they'd carve a statue. I'm indescribably thrilled that you're sharing your beauty with me."

"It's so wonderful that you're having sex with me," she replied. "This is so dreamy. Every stroke is giving me an orgasm and each one's a little stronger than the last one."

Several minutes later, I announced, "I can't hold back much longer. Are you ready for that pounding you wanted earlier?"

"Oh yeah Daddy!" she gasped. "Take me any way you want. I know it'll be great."

I stood up and pushed her forward so she was standing bent over with the palms of her hands flat against the mirror. She screamed rhythmically as I rammed my cock into her pussy with all the speed and power I could muster. I surprised myself by lasting for a full minute before I exploded inside her.

When I was spent, Tracy slowly collapsed, sliding her palms down the mirrored wall as she sank toward the floor. I caught her and used the last of my energy to guide her to the bed, settle beside her and take her in my arms.

Tracy's hand brushed my crotch. "You're not hard anymore," she murmured.

"Even Pan has to take a break sometime," I answered.

We were both silent for a while, content to enjoy the sensation of our bodies lightly pressing against each other.

"You've spoiled me," Tracy suddenly announced.

"Oh?"

"I didn't understand why I wanted sex so badly but I was always so disappointed when boys fucked me. They'd get me all turned on, then just stick it in and shoot after a few strokes. I'd come home so horny I thought I'd burn up. I had to masturbate for hours before I could go to sleep. When I started having sex with boys, I'd been playing with myself for years. I was worried that I'd done it so much that real sex couldn't satisfy me. Now that I've been with you, I know better. You give me nice long orgasms. How do you do it? You seem to read my mind."

"It's just growing up," I answered. "Sensitivity takes time to develop. Boys seem big and strong, but they're really insecure."

"Having a real man is so much better than being with a boy," Tracy said, lifting her face to press her lips against mine. "Bob, how old are you?"

"Thirty-five."

"And I'm nineteen. Daddy's older than you . . . forty-one. This is kind of perverted, but I'm going to say it anyway. I don't think it'll scare you off."

"Don't worry, it won't."

"You feel like Daddy . . . not that I want to have sex with him . . . not really . . . that would be too weird . . . but you're so big and strong and protective . . . and sexy beyond my wildest dreams."

"Does Daddy call you 'Baby Doll?'"

"Yeah," Tracy answered. "It's exciting thinking of you as Daddy. Is that sick or what?"

"No Baby Doll, you're not sick. Just a wonderful healthy woman with fantasies."

"Good! I love being held this way," Tracy said drowsily. I stroked her hair gently until she appeared to fall asleep. A few minutes later, she rolled over so that she was on her side with her back to me. I moved so our bodies were snuggled together like two spoons. My penis was stiffening again, so I placed it in the cleft between her buttocks.

"Are you going to butt-fuck me?" Tracy whispered. There was a note of fear in her voice.

"Only if you want me to do it," I answered.

"No," Tracy said emphatically. "I'm not ready for that."

"Don't worry," I said reassuringly. "I'm not trying to fuck your ass. I'm just enjoying the feeling of your beautiful butt cheeks caressing my cock."

"Good," Tracy replied. "Actually," she continued after a long pause, "I like the way your hot-dog feels between my buns." She was silent for a long time, then she whispered, "You'd be gentle if you did it to me?"

"Of course," I said. "I'll never hurt you."

"I've had your cock in my mouth and my cunt. Now I'm getting excited thinking about you putting it in my asshole . . . " Tracy said, tightening her buttocks to grip my penis. "Sometime. But not right now," she added quickly.

"Don't worry," I answered. "I'll wait until you ask me to ass fuck you and I won't mind if it never happens. I'm really happy poking my cock in your wonderful tight little cunt."

Tracy shivered and pushed her buttocks even harder against my groin. "I love it when you say 'my cock in your cunt'," she whispered.

"If you keep working your butt like that, I'll be in your asshole within the next ten seconds," I warned.

"I'll stop teasing you," Tracy said, pulling away and turning to face me.

I rolled onto my back and she curled up beside me with her head pillowed on my chest. "Good night Daddy," she said drowsily in a little girl voice. "I love you."

Draping a hand and arm protectively over her back and stroking her hair tenderly with my other hand, I answered "I love you too, Baby Doll. Sleep tight." She fell asleep within seconds. I watched her for a long time in the golden candlelight before my own eyes grew heavy and darkness slipped up to enfold me.

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Copyright © 2004 by Ken James

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales, organizations, or events is entirely coincidental.

Many thanks to Wayde for his constant love and support.

Copyright © 2017 by Ken James