The following fictional story is being reposted by Mr Double.  If you are the author of this story and would like to receive proper recognition (an Author's Page at my website at: http://pw1.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html), please contact me at mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.








                       COUSIN CAROL



My cousin, Carol, is four years older than I am.  When we were growing up,

she lived right down the street.  My folks and hers -- my aunt and uncle

(my mother's sister and her husband) -- have always been very good friends,

doing all kinds of things together.  When they went out in the evening,

Carol always stayed over at my house, because her room was full of dolls
and playhouses and I had a double-decker bunk bed (I got the top bunk).

When we were really young, some older woman would sit for us and I don't
remember much about her.  By the time I was five years old (and Carol
was nine), our parents had teenagers sitting us.  I remember so many
good times we had, fooling the sitters into letting us drink sodas and
watch TV, playing board games with endless changes in the rules to match
our whims, building elaborate "forts" of furniture and blankets ...

But, for purposes of this narrative, the story really begins one night
when one of our sitters let her boyfriend come over to visit while she
was taking care of me and Carol.

I was six years old and Carol was ten.  Our sitter that night, Susan,
was about 19 years old and was kind of funny-looking, I thought.  Although
she was skinny everywhere else, she had a huge chest, which she emphasized
with tight sweaters and tight jeans.  I was too young to be affected in
any sexual way then, but I realize now she projected a sluttish image.
In retrospect, I'm surprised my parents let her sit for us.  Maybe she
charged less than other sitters.

Susan sat for me and Carol several times, and was always nice enough,
letting us watch R-rated movies with her on cable TV and making us
big bowls of popcorn.

On this fateful night, however, our folks were going to a racetrack
across the state line, and were staying there overnight.  Susan tried
to rush us off to bed early, but we insisted on staying up to see a
scary movie.  About 11, the doorbell rang and Susan swore us to
secrecy before letting her boyfriend in.  He was obviously annoyed
at seeing us there, and made enough rude comments that we scurried up
to bed as soon as the movie was over.  We could hear the music from my
folks' stereo begin to play pretty loud.  Susan tucked us into bed
perfunctorily and hurried back to the family room.

I was ready to go to sleep, and was a little worried about the dreams
I might have as a result of the horror movie we had just seen.  But
Carol wasn't ready.

"Let's go spy on Susan," she whispered from the bottom bunk.  "I bet
they're making out."

I agreed readily.  This was the kind of trick we enjoyed playing on our
sitters.  We quietly opened the door to my room and crept down the hall.

We really didn't have to be quiet, though, because the music coming
from the family room was very loud.  As we peeked around the corner,
we both at first thought the room was empty.  But then we spotten Susan
and her boyfriend writhing on the floor.  Clothes were all over the room.
Susan's sweater was lying by the fireplace and her boyfriend was down
to his boxer shorts.  They were locked in a total-bodylock embrace
on the carpet in front of the couch.  Carol and I had front-row seats!

"See?" she whispered.  "I told you they'd be making out!"

Making ourselves comfortable, we stretched out on our bellies in the hall,
beyond the faint light projected by the single lamp that was still shining
at its lowest setting.

Back in the family room, Susan's boyfriend had managed to disengage the
industrial-strength fasteners on her bra.  Released from their confines,
Susan's huge breasts puddled back into mountains of flesh, as she lay
there on her back.  Her boyfriend tossed the bra back toward the couch
and lowered his head to her chest.  With his mouth removed from hers,
we quickly understood why the stereo was playing so loudly -- Susan was
moaning and groaning and breathlessly telling him how good he was making
her feel.

"God, Terry, I'm burning up.  Suck my nipples!  Run your tongue all over
my boobs.  Bite my nips!"  Her boyfriend tried to follow her instructions,
but it was clear he would have had to have help to do it all.

Carol leaned over to me.  "Look at his shorts," she whispered.

I had been paying attention to the heaving mounds projecting from the
chest of my babysitter, glistening in the lamplight with her boyfriend's
saliva.  Now I looked where my cousin indicated and saw the beefy end of
his prick sticking out the opening in the front of his boxers.

"This is going to be neat!" said Carol.

Susan's muttering and groaning was getting louder, and now I could see
that her boyfriend had his hand down the front of her panties and was
moving his arm in a rhythmic motion.  His hips had also adopted a rhythm
of their own, as he rubbed the head of his cock against the outside of
her thigh.  Suddenly he stood up and spoke.

"I've got to fuck you now, before your hot talk and sexy bod make me
cum on the carpet."

As he yanked down his shorts, Susan squirmed out of her underpants too.
I didn't know where to look.  His throbbing prick looked huge to me
(though now I realize its size was probably pretty ordinary).  The
patch of hair at the bottom of Susan's belly was not much to see,
but I stared nonetheless.

As soon as she tossed her filmy panties aside, Susan spread her legs
and put both hands in her crotch.  "Jeez, Terry!" she said.  "You look
so hot standing there showing me your big dick!  Let's suck each other
first and then you can fuck me.  That way you don't have to wear a rubber
for your first cum."

Beside me, Carol moved into a sitting position.  When I glanced over at
her, I began to burn with a new heat.  My young cousin had removed her
pajama bottoms and was rubbing her hand between her legs while she
watched the action in the den.  When she noticed me looking at her, she
gave me a big grin and spread her legs even wider so I could see.  The
light wasn't very good, but I could tell she was digging her fingertips
deep into the furrow between the hairless lips of her little pussy.
When Carol turned her attention back to the family room, so did I.

Terry was lowering his head between our sitter's outstretched thighs as
his rigid prick descended toward her waiting lips.  Susan's moaning and
groaning was muffled once more as she slurped up her boyfriend's stiff
six inches.  In fact, there wasn't much to see, with the two teenagers'
heads buried in each other's crotches.  The wet sounds of their sucking
could barely be heard over the booming stereo.

I turned my head to look again at Carol and was greeted with an up-close
look at her widespread crotch.  Carol had leaned over on her side,
away from me, so the leg on the carpet projected toward my head and
her other knee was cocked vertically.  Her right hand continued its
rapid back-and-forth movement in the wet valley of her pussy.  I found
myself grinding my hips into the carpet, increasing the nice feeling
in my stiff little peter.  But then the sound effects started again
in the family room.

"Yes!  Suck on my clit like that!  I'm gonna get my cum!  Bite my lips!
Stick your tongue all the way inside of me!  Ungh!  Ohh!  Arrrrr...."
Susan babbled away as she humped her pelvis against her boyfriend's
swiveling face.  Unnoticed, his slimy prick slithered across her face
and stabbed at her hair.  With legs thrown wide, Susan wrenched her
head backwards against the carpet and grunted repeatedly.  If she
hadn't kept babbling about good it felt, I would have thought her
boyfriend was torturing her.

In the dim light, Terry raised his head from Susan's crotch and turned
to kneel with his legs on either side of her head.  Levering his dick
downward, he guided it into her panting mouth and began pistoning it
deep into her throat.  Susan began breathing noisily through her nose
as she sucked and slurped his throbbing rod.  I noticed she also had
both hands busily working at the juncture of her thighs.

In only a few moments, Terry grabbed the back of her head and started
pulling her mouth all the way onto his cock.  That was apparently too
much for Susan, but her boyfriend was oblivious to her distress.  As
she tried to push him away, he moved his hips rapidly, only releasing
her head when he threw back his own to bay his orgasm.

Susan spit the slab of meat out of her mouth so she could breathe, but
reached up to stroke the repeated squirts of juice out of his cock and
all over her face.  Her other hand returned to her own love-nest,
restoring the rhythm of her hips as she worked her lover's still-rigid
cock above her glazed eyes.

Suddenly, Carol leaned over and whispered to me, "Let's go back to
the bedroom."

I wanted to stay and watch some more, feeling not only clever at spying
on our sitter, but also fascinated by the animal behavior I was seeing.
But I didn't want to be caught either, and I responded to my older
cousin's entreaty by hurrying along behind her.  I thought it was funny
that she was carrying her pajama bottoms in her hand and her pale bare
bottom glowed before me as we went back to my room.

As I started to climb into my top bunk, Carol said, "Show me yours.
I showed you mine."

I was a little unsure about this.  It was one thing to spy on teenagers,
but it seemed extra naughty to be showing my female cousin the little
piece of flesh that was so mysteriously stiff right then.  But, as I
hesitated on the bunk-bed ladder, Carol decided things for both of
us by reaching through the rungs to extract my rigid pencil from my
pajama fly.  Her cool fingers felt so good that I let her go ahead.

After grasping and releasing my prick several times, Carol said, "Come
on down and sit on the bed with me.  I'll let you touch mine too."

It seemed entirely natural somehow that I would step out of my pajama
bottoms and throw them on the top bunk.  Carol sat primly on the edge
of the bed, with her knees together and only a pale triangle of flesh
at the bottom of her belly.  I noticed the slit I had seen earlier
was hidden at the bottom of her lap.

As I sat down beside her, Carol opened her legs a bit and took my hand,
guiding it between her thighs.  When my fingertips touched flesh, she
let go and returned to her exploration of my little-boy cock.  Imitating
the motion she had recently demonstrated, I rubbed my fingers up and down
the front of her little furrow.  In response, my cousin opened her legs
wider, so I could begin to feel the damper flesh inside her downy outer
lips.

Without warning, Carol ducked her head into my lap and took my little
stick into her mouth.  I had thought that her fingers had felt good,
but her mouth was clearly superior.  I realize now that she knew
nothing about cock-sucking technique, but the candy-stick analogy
was good enough to get her started and give me plenty of pleasure.

After a while, however, the feelings began to get less intense, and I
just got sleepy.  In addition, the level of music in the family room
got lower and we became afraid that Susan would come in and catch us.
Carol and I swore to each other that we would never tell anyone about
our sex-play, climbed back into our pajamas and went to sleep.

That was the beginning of a ten-year odyssey of mutual sexual exploration
that ended only when Carol got married.  If you are interested, I'll
tell you more ....

Chapter 2

The morning after our first sexual exploration -- the night my cousin Carol
and I watched our sitter and her boyfriend suck and fuck and the night my
young cousin first sucked my six-year-old penis and let me play with her
ten-year-old pussy -- I was a little afraid to face her.  Even though she
was only ten years old, I was afraid I would get in trouble.  But she woke
up as I was getting down from the top bunk and gave me a huge grin.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" she smiled at me.  I knew then that everything
was going to be all right.

From that day on, Carol and I "played around" whenever we could.  For
example, whenever Carol stayed over at our house, we would try to take
our baths together.  When adults were out of the bathroom, Carol took
a special interest in washing my prick and my balls.  Using a washcloth
at first, and then just her hand, she would stroke my crotch until the
stimulation made my little prick stand up stiff.  Then she would run her
soapy fist up and down my shaft, giving me a warm, tingly sensation all
over my body.  I was too young to cum, but the feeling was wonderful,
nonetheless.

Many's the time I was forced to splash down when my mom or Carol's mom
came back in the bathroom, in order to hide my stiff little cock.  Sometimes
I got the impression that they knew what was going on, because I could
see their eyes get wide as they looked through the soapy water at my red
and rigid little prong.  But neither Carol's mom nor mine ever said
anything.

I would do the same for Carol's pussy.  With her standing up in the tub, I
would soap my hands and wash all over the outside and the inside of her
slit, running my fingers from her butthole to the front of her pussy.  She
taught me to pay special attention to the little button at the top of her
valley.  When I rubbed it, the fleshy fold would turn into a hard ridge
and a bright pink knob would appear.  Carol made me keep running my soapy
fingers all over her ridge and knob until she clamped her knees together
and collapsed in the bathtub.  She told me I had just given her a cum and
she would grin at me crazily to let me know she really appreciated it.

I know now that my cousin was obsessed with sex.  She was always looking
for a chance to see somebody naked, to spy on her parents when they were
fucking, to walk into the bathroom while my dad was peeing so she could
see his dick -- anything connected with sex was just fascinating to her.
She also liked to show herself off to grown-up men.

Carol had lots of tricks for showing grown-ups her pussy.  For example,
I had seen her wear a real loose bathing suit at the swimming pool and
sit on the side of the pool with her heels on the little rim beneath
the edge.  When a man -- often a father playing with his kids -- would
glance over at her, Carol would casually splay her legs so the man
got a good look at the vertical slit winking between her hairless
pussy lips.  Or she would sit in the backward-facing seat of our
station wagon, pull her shorts and underpants down to her knees, and
kneel on the seat to talk to my parents in the front seat -- showing
off her bare butt to some guy in the car behind.

Carol told me about one particularly eventful afternoon several years
earlier when she first found out about cumming.

She was working on her homework one day while her mother was having an
afternoon coffee for some women in the neighborhood.  Carol was upstairs
at her desk in her room when she heard someone humming outside her window.
Looking out, she saw that a repairman was fixing some wiring on the power
pole only a few feet from her window.  Fastened by a big leather belt to
the pole, he was whistling and humming a tune as he spliced together some
cables.  His position on the pole put his head just above Carol's window.

Immediately, Carol saw an opportunity to show another grownup her naked
charms.  Hurrying to her closet, she quickly skinned out of her jeans
and put on a frilly dress, leaving her underpants off.  Returning to
the window, she leaned out and spoke to the repairman.

"Hi!  What are you doing?" she said.

The man jumped at her voice, but turned a warm smile down to the little
girl in the window beside his perch.

"I'm upgrading the electric service of your next-door neighbor," he said.

Getting right to the point, Carol asked him, "Do you like my dress?"

"Well it looks like a very pretty dress, I suppose, but I don't know
much about little girls' clothes."

"Do you like what's under my dress?" asked Carol, lifting the hem to
display her naked pussy.

She told me the repairman's eyes glowed with appreciation at the lewd
sight.  "Now that is something I know about, and you have a real cute
little pussy there," he said.  "Are you alone in your house?"

"No," said Carol, "my mother and her friends are all downstairs, though,
so you can look all you want."

"Well," said the man, "I do like to look, but I'm just about through with
my splicing, so I have to get back down soon.  What else do you want to
show me?"

Carol said she was puzzled, because she couldn't think of anything else
to show the man; her shows to date had been limited to displaying her
bottom and pussy.  But her perplexity must have shown on her face,
because the reapirman had a suggestion.

"Why don't you lie down on the floor next to the window where I can see
you and spread your legs wide and pull your pussy lips open so I can see
the insides of your little cunt?"

This was fine with Carol, so she did just what he asked, opening her
thin thighs in a veritable split and pulling the soft flesh open to show
the repairman her most secret place.  She told me the man smiled even
more broadly.

"Now rub yourself down there," directed the man outside her window.

Carol said she had been rubbing herself for several years.  But now, under
the repairman's direction, she modified her then-normal whole-crotch rub
to a more sophisticated masturbatory motion, trailing her fingers up and
down the moistening valley that had opened between the hairless lips of
her eight-year-old pussy.  As he told her to, she again pulled her cuntlips
open, showing him the wet pink flesh of her virginal furrow.  When the
lineman suggested that she concentrate her rubbing at the top of her
slot, Carol found the nubbin of her clittie harder and more sensitive
than ever before.  She said she began enjoying this display more than
any of her other experiences.

"Now," said the repairman, "I guess you want to see mine, too."

In fact, she had seen the "things" of other men and boys, but Carol
found herself wanting very much to see the repairman display himself
to her.

"Stand up and come over by the window so you can see my dick," he said.
"I want you to rub your pussy while I jack off for you."

Carol said she immediately scrambled to her feet and stepped to the
window.  Her skirt was bunched under her arms, and both hands were
busy in the inflamed valley between her legs.  As she watched, the
repairman released his steel-hard prick.  Carol said she found the
twitching half-foot of flesh fascinating.  The told me the velvety
head contrasted with the sculpted, veiny look of the pink shaft.
Still talking rapidly to her in a frenzy of filth, the man wrapped his
hand around his cock and began to stroke the loose skin up and down,
covering and uncovering the mushroom head that was beginning to ooze
with moisture.

"You're a hot little girl to be showing me your pussy and masturbating
while I watch.  It makes me so hot I have to shoot my jism.  I want you
to watch and learn how a man makes himself cum."

Carol said she didn't understand all the words he was using, but the
sight of his increasingly rapid stroking was somehow increasing the
intensity of the feelings in her own crotch.  She found her ordinarily-
frilly inner pussy lips now stiff and slimy.  As she watched the
man's straining member disappear again and again into his sliding
fist, her finger began echoing its rhythm on her own distended clit,
pulling the sheath of flesh back and forth over the shiny nubbin of
her most sensitive spot.

"Put your fingers inside your pussy.  Finger-fuck yourself while I watch
you.  Stick a dildo in your asshole like you were being butt-fucked by
some horse-cocked stud.  Look at my cock because I'm just about to get
my cum," mumbled the repairman, now far gone in his own fantasy.

Carol tried to comply with at least one of his requests, holding her
hairless lips open with one hand while pushing the middle finger of her
other into her narrow opening.  But her finger just wouldn't go inside.
However, the sight of her attempt was the last straw for the masturbating
repairman, because he grunted and groaned and spewed his sperm all over
the power pole and the ground below.

"Wow!" he panted.  "You are really a hot little girl.  When you grow up,
maybe we can get together sometime and I'll put my prick inside your
pussy and really make you feel terrific."  With that, he zipped up
his jeans and climbed down the pole.

Carol said she wanted me to do some of those things to her -- once she
found out what a "dildo" was and when we had a chance to really
experiment with sex.  And she wanted some more chances to see a man
spurt that stuff out the end of his cock.

Chapter 3

My young cousin Carol told me she had many other experiences with
grownup men, in addition to her adventure with the electrical repairman
jerking off outside her window while he watched her rub her pussy.
She said it was amazing how many merchants, policemen, fathers, ministers
and others were absolutely crazy about peeking up under her dress and
otherwise showing her they were interested in her sexually.  In fact,
she really filled up my ears (and stiffened by young prick) with her tales.

For example, she said the old guy who ran the doughnut shop in the
nearby shopping center was just freaky about little girls.  Carol said
she found out about that from Wanda, a girl in my grade.  (I'm four years
younger than Carol, so Wanda would have been about six years old at the
time of Carol's story.)

Wanda told Carol she had been getting free doughnuts from that guy for
years, and her mother thought it was just that the man gave away free
doughnuts to all the kids.  But Wanda told her the secret was that you
had to show the man your underpants.

So, Carol told me, she tried it one day when the doughnut shop was
pretty busy.  When no one was looking, she ducked behind the counter
and squatted in a corner where only the man could see her.  When he
bent down to get some jelly-filled doughnuts for a customer, he spotted
her there and started to say something.  But he remained silent when
Carol opened her legs to show him the crotch of her panties stretched
tight across her ten-year-old pussy.  In fact, he smiled at her real
big and handed her one of the jelly doughnuts.  Carol told me she
had been back lots of times, and had found out the deal was one
doughnut for a show of panties, and three doughnuts if she pulled
her underpants down and showed him her naked pussy.  Sometimes, she
and Wanda would go together and get a half dozen doughnuts by just
opening their jeans and pulling the front of their underpants down to
display the hairless folds of their little pussies.

Carol said she thought the doughnut man was kind of unusual, because,
unlike most other grownups, he never tried to show Carol his own equipment.
Nor did he ever try to touch her.  Of course, Carol was always ready to get
a gander at another penis, so she was a little disappointed.  But she said
the no-touching part was all right with her, because the previous summer
she had a real scare with the temporary popsicle man.

I remembered the guy she was talking about.  He filled in for the regular
driver in our neighborhood for a week at the end of the summer.  He was
younger than our regular guy -- about 22 or so -- and I thought he was
real nice.  But Carol said she suspected he was sexually interested in
little kids because he encouraged the younger ones to come up into his
truck and choose their own ice cream, picking them up to let them look
down into the freezers.  Sure enough, when he picked Carol up to let her
gaze down into the glass-covered freezer compartments, she felt his
fingers insinuate themselves into the crack in her bottom.

At the moment this was happening, she told me, she wasn't worried; she
was just glad to find another guy who would probably give her something
free if she showed him her crotch.  So she smiled over her shoulder to
indicate it was all right with her if he felt her up.  Right away, she
said, the young man reached between her thighs and pulled her shorts and
underpants out of the way so he could stroke the bare flesh of her
little cunt.  Carol said she felt scared and vulnerable all of a sudden,
suspended in the cool, dark space of the ice cream truck while a
stranger ran his fat fingers back and forth between the hairless lips
of her pussy.  Especially because no one else was around the truck at
that moment.

After a few seconds of fondling her crack, though, the ice cream man put
her down, apparently forgetting about her ice cream.  "You better not
tell anyone about this or I'll do something terrible to you," he suddenly
growled.

When Carol assured him she wouldn't tell, the guy quickly leaned out
the window of his truck to make sure no one was coming and then opened
his pants to release his stiffening cock.  My cousin said she wasn't
really surpised that he was doing that, but she was surprised at the
size of the fleshy hose he hauled out of his underwear.  She said the
ice cream guy had a really big one -- about seven or eight inches long
and getting longer as it stiffened before her wide eyes.  She told me
it was red and knarly, with veins sticking out all over the shaft and
skin covering up the end of it.  He grabbed her wrist roughly, pulled
her over and put her hand on the meaty shaft.

"Jack me off real nice and I'll give you a free popsicle," he leered
down at her.

Carol said she started to move the skin back and forth on the erecting
pillar of flesh projecting from the ice cream man's crotch, imitating
the action she had seen on the electrical lineman outside her window.
But, even as the hot, throbbing cock stiffened even more as she stroked
it, she felt herself wilting before the intensity of the gaze the man
fastened on her.  She became afraid that she wasn't doing it right.  She
apparently needn't have worried, though, because the man grunted and
reached below his twitching cock to extract his balls from his underwear.
As Carol masturbated him, he rubbed and stretched the hairy sack in time
with her manipulations.

"Here," he suddenly grunted, "you're not going fast enough.  I'll do
myself while I do you too."

Carol said she wasn't feeling particularly sexually excited, but was
afraid to say anything.  Reaching down, the man tugged Carol's shorts
and underpants to her ankles.  He then lifted her up and sat her bare
bottom on the frigid glass top of the ice cream chest and positioned her
so her gaping thighs exposed the pink inner lips of her little cunt.  As
he began pounding his fist furiously up and down his straining, nine-inch
boner, he spread my cousin's thighs wider and probed between the nude
lips of her pussy with the middle finger of his other hand while also
using another finger to poke at her asshole.  Of course, she was too
young to take anything that big into her cunt, so he could have really
hurt her.  She told me she was too scared to cry out.  Luckily for Carol,
the ice cream man's big cock began erupting almost immediately, before
his forceful probing could drive his fingers very far into her virginal
canals.

Carol told me she just sat there with her thighs spread wide, fascinated
at the close-up sight of the seemingly-endless spurts of milky fluid
surging from the end of the man's thobbing dick.  She was glad to see him
smile at her as he squeezed the final few drops onto the metal floor
of the ice cream truck.  After reminding her she couldn't tell anyone,
he gave her a free ice cream bar.  And he gave her another free one
every other day he came by, but she didn't have to show him her underpants
or anything.  He just recognized her and gave her a freebie.

Although the ice cream man never again asked to see her pussy that week,
Carol said she got to see his cock again.  Later that week, she saw his
truck parked on a nearby street, so she headed over to get a free
popsicle.  When she peeked in the truck, she saw the ice cream man
masturbating while he sucked Russel Wharton's cock.  I guess I was a
little shocked at that, because Russel was younger than me -- only five
years old at that time.


... to be continued
--


Double for Nothing!!  Tricks for Free!!!

http://pw1.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html

Be There.....