Katie Learns Not to be a Whore 03

I get to rail Katie (F13) up her little girly arsehole in her own little girly bedroom.

It’s been two weeks and I haven’t fucked her.

It would perhaps be wise to let it go. There are consequences for doing this wrong.

But I’m not going to.

From my perspective, she’s my thirteen-year-old fuck toy.

From her perspective, I’m what? Her boyfriend?

Nah, but she’s sexually active now. If I don’t keep things up, then she’ll find one.

We’re sitting in the car. I’m driving her home from babysitting. It’s been tennis tonight and I’m still in my white kit.

Her head turns as we pass the lane where I raped her virginity from her.

“Are we not…,” she starts to say.

“Too risky,” I say. It’s a fifteen-minute drive. Even with quick sex, it’d be half-an-hour and you can make that fly sometimes. A forgotten item. A stop for petrol. Problem is I used those last time. Combine that with her walking in just a little bit flustered or her not selling the lie properly and you’ve got a recipe for suspicion. And the routes is too predictable. A parent could follow us easily.

But if not here and now, where and when? That question has been occupying my mind ever since those first encounters.

It’s never going to be perfectly safe, but I’ve still got nothing that’s within acceptable limits.

“Don’t you want me?” she says.

“It’s too risky,” I repeat.

The other issue is contraception. She hasn’t got any and I’ll be damned if I’m ruining the feeling of that tight little cunt with rubber.

“It’s half-term next week,” she tells me.

I don’t say anything.

“I’ll be home alone,” she continues.

“Hmmm,” I say.

My mind immediately maps out the possibilities. Fuck her at home and risk being walked in on. Take her out and risk someone seeing us. They wouldn’t get anything concrete, but it might lead to suspicion and gossip. Katie might have to lie and I don’t like that.

If I take her out, then we can’t go to a hotel. I’m not risking her both walking out of her place and in to mine on the same day. We’re talking somewhere in nature. In the middle of the day. Besides the obvious danger, it’s going to limit how we fuck.

No, it’s the bed that swings it. If I take the morning off work we can get a few solid hours in.

We pull up into her driveway. She hesitates before getting out of the car.

“I’d like to be able to kiss you,” she says. “Not here, obviously. Just somewhere on the way back.”

“If we kiss,” I tell her. “I’ll get hard. And then I’ll want to fuck you and we’ll make a mistake and get into trouble. You understand?”

She looks disappointed. As she’s about to get out of the car, I pull her scarf off.

“I’ll come round tomorrow,” I say.

I’m amazed at what an asshole I’ve become. I could stop at that lane and give her a snog.

She smiles.

—–

The next day, I call round.

I park at the corner shop five minutes walk away. I go in and get a couple of non-descript items – milk, a can of soup, toothpaste. Then I head to her house.

I’ve got her scarf. If the door is answered by a parent, I drop it off, drop a mention of where I parked the car and then write off the whole morning.

Instead, Katie opens it. She’s in her knickers and bra. I push my way in immediately and get the door shut.

“Don’t be stupid,” I tell her.

“I just wanted to surprise you,” she says disappointed.

“We have to be careful. No surprises,” I tell her.

I make a tour of the house, checking rooms. I turn off the lights in each one. The back garden opens up onto an alley. It’s in full view of all the neighbours though. No good as a future entrance and only to be used as an exit in the most dire of circumstances.

We enter her bedroom. It’s not as pink as I expect, but it is girly. There’s a poster of a boy band I’m unfamiliar with on the ceiling. Her dresser is covered in faded My Little Pony stickers. I pick up her mobile phone from the table.

“Call your mum,” I tell her.

“She’s at work,” Katie says.

“Call her. Put it on speaker. Ask her where the TV remote is.”

Katie obliges. It’s a thirty-second conversation. There’s enough background noise to confirm she’s some kind of office.

“Now do the same thing with your dad.”

Her dad can’t speak now, sweetheart, he’s in a meeting.

Fucking A.

I set a timer on my phone. Forty minutes. Not a second longer.

I strip. She’s out of what few clothes she’s wearing instantly.

“Listen,” I tell her. “This is important. You need to go to your doctor’s surgery and ask for birth control pills. They have to give them to you without telling your parents.”

She looks uncertain. It’s big ask. I push on regardless.

“You’ll have to hide them. But take one a day. After a week or so, you’ll be protected. Now, here’s the really important bit. At school, is there a boy you like?”

“I like you,” she says, hurt.

“Yes, yes,” I say. “But hypothetically – a boy you and your friends have discussed. Someone close.”

She nods. “Kind of.”

“Right. Find an opportunity to snog him. At a party, or a sleep-over or during break-time or whatever. Make sure it’s seen. Then on another day, ask to see his penis. Take a good look at it – big or small, circumcised or uncircumcised, leaning left or right, birthmarks, everything. Make sure you can describe it. Give him a handjob if you have to. After that, cut him off. If he tries anything on, kick him in the nuts. But if anything happens, it gets found out that you’re not a virgin or your parents find your pills, blame him. Understand?”

She looks uncertain.

“Look, he’ll get a bollocking, but I’ll go to jail. Think about that and don’t hesitate, right?”

Suddenly the doorbell goes. Katie damn nearly pisses herself.

“Leave it,” I say. We wait. The seconds on my timer tick down. The bell rings another two times and then a minute goes by with nothing.

“Right,” I say. I go over to my jacket on the dresser and get out the tiny bottle of lube I’ve brought with me. “Since you’re not on the pill yet, we’re going to do it differently. I’m going to take you up the arse.”

She looks startled. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Yep,” I say.

It’ll be an encouragement for her to get the birth control sorted quickly.

“I want you on your hands and knees like a dog,” I tell her.

My heart is warmed by the speed with which she complies.

“There’s a good bitch,” I tell her.

She looks back at me.

“A bitch is a female dog,” I tell her.

“I know,” she says resentfully.

“When I call you a bitch, it means I want you in that position,” I tell her.

It’s a gorgeous sight. Her little girly cunt raised up on her little girly bed in her little girly room. I kick myself for not asking her to put her hair in pigtails, but it’s too late. That cunt holds a fatal attraction. I want to damn everything and fill her belly with a child.

I’m almost ready to risk it, but I don’t want to get cocky. It might be possible but with more groundwork.

Her asshole is equally inviting though. I rub some lube on my finger and start to explore there.

“That’s cold,” she giggles.

“Mm-hmm,” I say and give her a playful slap on her behind.

I insert a finger. It only goes in half an inch but gets her squirming. She lets out a moan.

For the first time in our relationship, I’m actually tender with her, although I don’t know if she realizes it. I don’t rush the preparation, even though I’ve got one eye on the timer. A finger becomes two and half-and-inch becomes an inch and a half. I talk her through what I’m doing and why.

“You’re loose enough now,” I finally tell her.

My cock has been hard the whole time. How could it not be? I’m about to violate a child bitch in the most intimate way possible.

Even now, I’m slow and gentle, I guide myself up to her brown hole and put just the slightest bit of pressure on. It takes a moment, but it slides in.

“Ow,” says Katie.

I move back slightly then in again.

“Ow, ow,” she says again.

“I know, I know,” I tell her,

I’m still. Her sphincter is tightening around me trying to force me out.

I move forward just to keep position.

“Oh, fuck,” she says.

“Don’t swear,” I tell her. I push my cock fully in.

She remains silent, her front falls down onto the bed. I reposition myself to the new angle and start to fuck her properly now. Still slowly, but with full strokes in and out.

“I can’t,” she breathes.

“You can,” I reassure her.

“I really can’t.”

“You need to learn this,” I tell her. “It’s already becoming easier. I can tell.”

“Please stop,” she says.

I ignore her.

“Please stop.”

“I can either keep going like this or fuck you faster so I come quicker. It’s up to you.”

She doesn’t say anything. She’s weeping face down on the bed.

I fuck her harder.

The sex is fantastic. Her ring has a strangle hold on the base of my cock and you can feel the warmth of her body so much more through the walls of her rectum than from her vagina. She’s burning up on my cock.

I reach round and start to play with her clit as I take her, grabbing and squeezing it. She lets me. There’s no resistance left.

It’s only when I come that she cries out properly again, a real scream of pain as I unload deep into her.

For once, I pull out quickly. I grab tissues, wipe my cock off and attend to her leaking arsehole. She lies there breathing heavily. I triple wrap everything and then put it in my jacket pocket.

I look at the timer. Five minutes left.

Of course, forty minutes is just ballpark. It’s even better to leave quicker.

I lie down next to her.

“You did great,” I tell her.

She doesn’t answer.

“Really,” I tell her. “For a first-timer, you did really well. I’m proud of you.”

She looks like she wants to say something.

I lift up her head and kiss her. It’s a deep French kiss. She’s passive at first, but then something clicks and she’s kissing me back. I put my hands round her and hold her.

When we separate, she starts to cry. These are tears of emotion rather than pain. I let her without saying anything.

The timer goes off. I don’t move immediately, but let exactly another minute go by.

“Get the birth control, eh,” I tell her. “It’ll make it easier, next time.”

I get dressed.

As I’m about to leave, she suddenly says, “Lawrence Jones,”

“What?” I say.

“You asked me to get a list of the people Lucy is giving blowjobs to,” she replies.

“Oh right,” I say. I’d forgotten about that. Her friend Lucy is who got her into this relationship or this mess, however she wants to look at it. If Lucy hadn’t told her to try and earn pocket money blowing some baby-sat dads, she’d still be a virgin. I’d asked last time out of curiosity, but there may be some future mileage in it.

“Lawrence Jones, Donald Renwick, Peter Lovett, and she thinks Bob Grouse will weaken soon.”

I return from her bedroom door and give her another genuine kiss. “You’ve done well.”

She smiles.

I pick up a pen, she repeats the names and I write them down on a little pink heart-shaped post-it note.

I leave forty-eight minutes after I arrive.

Sloppy. And I don’t just mean her cunt and kisses.

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