paedophile iii (by moonlight)

I've been here
many times before
now with curiosity (and hope against hope) I bring myself to call on you
I knock on your open window
lightly
there are others in the house who would not appreciate my presence
to say the very least
a moment goes by then you pull the shades open
you look at me curiously not saying a word
not afraid
just
present
a moment goes by
then you smile
I look at you
not saying a word
you were cute as the shadow of a silhouette in your bedroom in the dark
even cuter now seeing you clearly by moonlight
and that smile
it brightens the world
and I can't help but smile back
(you're such a pretty girl)

you're wearing only a t-shirt
it's big on you
maybe an old work shirt of your dad's
but just short enough that it shows off your pussy
(no hair)
"how old are you, little darlin'," I ask in a whisper
"I'm only 12 years old, sir," you say in the sweetest way
it's like velvet touching my ears and running it's texture through my mind
"aw," I laugh a quiet little laugh, "you don't have to call me sir. My name's daniel."
"what's your name, sweetheart?" I ask
(a breeze blows in from the sea)

"I'm lauren... I like your name... daniel," you say this in a shy tone
lowering your head and blushing
which I can only detect by your body language in this night's dim lit scene
you continue, "well... how old are you?"
"that's a pretty name. and thank you. I'm 40 years old by the way.
"do you mind that I'm so much older than you, calling at your window?"
"no I don't mind," you say in a whisper quiter still and I can barely make out,
"do you mind that I'm 12?"
"not at all, little lauren. can I call you little? I like that you're little."
"ok. I'd like that. and I like that you're older,"
"would you mind if I came in for a while?" I ask.
"you can come in," you say with that dropped head blushing smile again.
(your eyes are full of light when you smile)

you move back away from the window and I make my way to climbing in. quietly
mustn't disturb the elder kinfolk. they'd have my skull
I crawl in and stand up. I must be six inches taller than you
"my. you are a little girl aren't you?"
"yeah," you say in a voice which quivers along the perimeter of that word.
"are you scared, little one?"
"no... excited,
"see, for a long time I thought there was a man at my window. I thought he was the devil. but you're no devil."
"how can you tell, darlin'?"
"you're handsome," I can see you blushing clearly now that I'm inside though the moon is still our only light
guiding us
to mischief perhaps
to mischeif probably
"aw, thank you, darlin,' you're very kind, but the devil can be handsome at times. did you know that?"
"no... but I can tell... you're not a devil. I can see it in your eyes."
your eyes in a dead stare sinking into mine
"well I may not be a devil, but I have a little evil in me."
"how do you mean?" you ask eyes still on mine. inside mine. searching. wondering. entranced.
"well, I'm 40 years old knocking at a 12 year old girl's window in the middle of the night"
you don't seem phased
I continue "and I have a secret. can I tell you?"
"what?" eyes wide like a deer lost to headlights
"you won't tell anyone will you?"
"no, of course not, daniel. you can tell me anything"
"well... it was me at your window all those times you thought there was a devil outside
"and you know what?"
"what?"
"sometimes I saw you touching yourself. you know where I mean." I see you quickly get quite fidgety
"well to tell you the truth, little one, I stayed and watched... touching myself
"and... I think you're very pretty... and I want to touch you"
a little gasp from your throat. you weren't expecting that.
but still not scared. just excited. all of this so new and moving ahead at a great speed
your cheeks bright red. eyes stay with mine.
a moment goes by and you finally say, "I know what kind of touching you're talking about,"
"and I've never been touched by... anyone.
"you can touch me... if you want"
"anywhere I want? however I want?" I ask already knowing the answer.
you nod your head
(the moving night air just watches this scene play out)

I move closer to you. looking down. hovering above you
with all the thoughts of predator approaching his prey
but you don't mind being my prey. you don't step back or hesitate to keep your eyes on mine
(a dance of follow my lead)
I take my hand to your mouth
pet your bottom lip with my thumb...
then hold my hand over your mouth
just to see how it looks
just to see how it feels
it feels nice
it looks delicious
move my hand to brush your cheek with the back of my hand.
you move into my advance. nudging like a cat...
move my hand over your throat
to see how it looks
to know how it feels
I don't squeeze but I leave it there for a moment soaking in the power I feel over you
with my hand there on your throat. you vulnerable to anything I might put forth
(this is the way we both want it)
slide my hand down to touch your chest
tits barely budding
I massage there
I hear a tiny moan escape your slightly parted lips and I can feel you move in a nervous way
but not pulling back or away. your sublties beg of me to continue
conjures a knowing smile to spread across my face
move my hand to your tummy
as I brush my hand along your side, your body jumps a bit
"I'm ticklish there," you say
I move slower
much slower
applying the slightest amount of pressure
you relax and that which tickled turns into a pleasant massage on these sensitive parts
(I can smell your pussy ripen)

I move my hand between your legs
in synch with my movement you spread your legs slightly to accept my touch
you pull in a quick breath, gasping as my fingers play. explore. corrupt.
my fingers brushing gently across your folds
back and forth
back and forth
I can feel your body's condensation form beneath my touch
moisture from your heat melting at the sensation of my hand there
moving
back and forth
back and forth
you start to hump against my hand
lungs pulling in air quicker
breath shallow
"do you want me to stop, lauren?" I stop my caress suddenly
in wait for your answer which comes quick and definite
"no! don't stop! please keep touching me." uneven breath taking sharp corners around the words
in all the wrong places. no time or desire to sling language bits in any correct or formal way
makes me smile
I proceed
my own hidden secret place as hard as a fucking rock under cover demanding to be unveiled
and demands attention paid
"we refuse to remain secret much longer,"
I can hear the request in a silent roar from my burning midsection
as well as every other part of me
as I feel the surge of this fire race throughout my entire system
like a backdraft of dopamine and endorphins bursting through every nerve and vein
and back through again
in and out
at the behest of my hastening pulse
(if you take me there we'll both see heaven)
(as we both rise above the cloud (line)(nine) right before we come crashing)
(back to earth)

a moment passes and I slow the tempo then ask, "do you want it inside of you."
"yes! please!" you reply in as rushed and definitive as a commanding whisper can be
well...
not commanding...
it is not your place to command me
and you know this
more so commanding attention in those two begging words
one syllable each
one breath forcing both to escape
I move to slide a finger into that calling orifice
which by way of moisture makes itself obvious
(the breath of your opening and the scent of my own sex pours their perfume throughout the room)

you jump with a start!
"ow, daniel! it hurt!" struggling to keep your voice at a whisper
I pull back before I can even enter
"wow, baby doll, you're so tight I can't even put one finger inside."
you don't understand the disappointment
I unzip the front of my pants and pull my manhood out on display
you gasp at the sight of my cock
"how could we ever fit this in there?" I ask not needing an answer
this cock being considerably greater in size than that single finger I tried to slip up inside you
(now she understands the disappointment)

your eyes now locked on a new presence. scaling and hungrily examining my large and hardened man-self
a moment passes
eyes wide upon my dick
swallowing every vein with your eyes before your mouth even has a chance with him
"can I touch it?" you ask with a passion that 12 year olds usually only express on christmas eve
eager to open that one single present charitably allotted them the night before the big day
to satiate all those pre-game-day gitters
built-up from so many worthless, empty months that have no promise of fine gifts and memories
that might someday prove to be memorable
if memory suits them in later years
"pleeeaaase," I draw out and exude the word like warmed syrup
softened and dripping from my tongue
like the juice dripping from your prepubescent secret girl-place
you bring you hand to wrap around the base
your hand looks so little
fingers not even able to wrap all the way around to touch tips
you look up into my eyes asking a question you don't need to speak
"here I'll show you how"
I grab your wrist and move you
up and down
up and down
on my cock
the way I like
you catch on to the rhythm
you catch on quick
a fast learner on my hands
(with no puns)
and I let go
and let you go to work on me
quickly start to breath rapidly myself in the ecstasy of your touch
head throwing itself back and then coming back to look down into those beautiful gray eyes of yours
whose color I can barely make out
in the light presented us on this night which has turned into a game of:
"you touch me/I'll touch you"
whose pupils opened so wide in the dimness of the moon in creeping between night and shadow
that it almost seems there is no color at all save black and white
(what's next?)

"I want to be in your mouth," I say with great difficulty.
trying to hide the girth of my desire building up and strangling the words in the back of my throat.
rising up from my core
wanting to erupt.
(soon enough.)
you don't say a word simply comply
you slide me into your mouth
suck
your head moves
up and down
up and down
on my head
(a moan from the back of my throat)
as deep as you think you can take
I think you can take more... I think we can take this to the next level
hand to the back of your head
I'm in control
push it all the way to the back of your throat
hold there
your eyes water
gag reflex reactes
but you don't fight or make as if to pull away
and eyes stay on mine
you like me in control
I pull back
then in again
back
then in
throat fuck bringing me closer to release point
closer to the edge
(a growl from the back of my throat)
and my cock to the back of yours
(don't choke)

I feel the demons loosening their tie to the surface world
they rise in me
breath faster
pumping into your throat
with vigorous disregard to your present state
"bring me there, baby girl," voice shivering like the summer sun dancing on a road of broken glass
anticipation builds
I pull back and you take the wheel
sucking and using tongue to draw out the poison
(I bet you haven't even kissed a boy)

glorious release pulsates the flood into your mouth
must remember to stay quiet
or quiet enough
to keep the head hunters in the next room
"don't stop!"
(don't choke)
glorious release
and body trying to supress the urge to convulse
and I attempt to remain composed as the release of juice is poured out
in and through you
and there's rushes of endorphins or dopamine racing throughout my system
and there's small explosions and freight trains of sensation
in a torrential downpour of energy, weight and freedom
so much in this
one
simple
act
of depravity
and I'm emptied
left panting
"yes... good girl... now swallow," on the downbeat
sliding off the mountain
voice still trembling but easing up
as you wipe the water from your eyes
and take that piece of me down into your belly
where this can hereby not be undone
sweat from my brow
and I wipe away the water
"how does it feel to be taken?"
"I like how you taste."
(such a good girl)

and this act of breaking the law and the strict order of things...
this act of going against grain and ethic never tasted so sweet
victory and crime on my lips as breathing slows
while the incriminating evidence
of cum
and corruption
drips from yours