Jenny (MFff, cons.)
©2000
by Abelard.

[Warning: If it is illegal for you to read sex stuff, my condolences, but 
fuck off. The events depicted in this story are performed strictly in the 
imagination of a professional. No not try this shit at home. If you read on, 
please maintain at least one hand on your controls at all times. If you 
wanna’ publish this story for profit, ya’ better ask me first. Finally, tell 
me what you think at <abelard_fra@hotmail.com >.

The story of a middle-aged (male) college professor and one of his student 
lovers (female).  She recruits a ten and an eleven year old girl for them to 
play with.

				Jenny

Jenny rolled over in bed and whispered in my ear, “Know what I want for my 
birthday?

“What, sugar?”  My gorgeous soon to be twenty-year old student and lover was 
always trying to shock me; even so, I wasn’t quite prepared for her reply.

“A pretty little ten year old girl.”

“Oh, yeah  right, me too!”

“Why you dirty old man!” she squealed in delight.

“Well, I suppose, to one as callow as you, forty-five must seem ancient,” I 
teased back.   In truth, Jenny was just another in a long line of lovely, 
smart, and nubile students who had paraded through my classes and through my 
bed in the twenty years I had been teaching here an ESU.  I already knew 
that she was bisexual, now, apparently, she was telling me that she liked 
LITTLE girls, too.

Not to lose this interesting line of thought, I added, “But, hey! If you can 
want a junior nymphet, I can want one too, Monkey Tits.”

“Oh, OOOKaaay, we’ll share.” She said coyly, “Or should we get two, one for 
you and one for me?”

“Hell, let’s get six and swap around!”

“You think I’m kidding, don’t you?”

“Oh, I’ll bet you’d LIKE to find a little nymphet in training alright…I just 
don’t think they’re lying around in the streets a dime a dozen.”

My sweet little personal nymphet said to me, “You’d be surprised.   I’LL bet 
I could get one or two willing little girls to accommodate us.”

This was too good to let go. “Yeah? What’ll you bet?”

I could see the idea take hold in her. “If I win, what’ll ya give me?”

“An ‘A’ in the course?”

“Shit, mister, you better be giving me that NOW!”

“True, true.  Okay, how ‘bout, um… a trip to Disney World?”

“Cool! You’re on!” I had just picked that prize out of the air so her 
enthusiasm surprised me a little, but what the hell, I could afford it.  I 
might even consider going along.

We started fooling around with each other’s bodies again, and then I asked 
her, “Hey, but what about if you lose?”

“Well then, of course, you lose too…but, UM…well…My roommate, Joy, has 
expressed a certain interest in a threesome.”

“Cool… “

“Cool?  You old fart, you can’t say ‘cool’ at your age…  Hmm, you appear, 
however, even at your age, to be an old fart with yet another hardon!  Oh, 
goody!”  We had been feeling each other up under the sheets, and Jenny was 
now clasping my cock in her hot little hand.  “Pretty good for an old guy!”

We were lying face to face, and we now began to kiss, softly, just sort of 
dallying in the afterglow of our passionate workout of twenty minutes ago.  
As I stroked Jenny’s velvety cunt I could feel my cum still slowly oozing 
out.  Jenny was quite a babe, one of the best I had found…and I had found 
quite a few.

For some reason, undergraduate women have flirted and come on to me my whole 
career.  And since I developed a touch of gray at the temples, surprisingly 
to me, the situation has gotten even worse (or better, depending on your 
point of view).  In my current Sophomore Lit. class there were at least two 
other girls besides Jenny who had let it be known that they wouldn’t mind a 
little ‘extra help’ (if  I knew what they meant…wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

But Jenny was by far the cream of this year’s crop; smart, bold, and very 
pretty.  She stood about five five or five six, with wavy, thick blonde hair 
to her shoulders.  Perky up-turned tits that nicely filled her C-cup bras.  
As she said, “I’m just an average girl…”C” …get it?”  In truth, there was 
nothing average about Jenny.   With a nice, trim, athletic body, she’d been 
a star on her high-school tennis team, and still played regularly.  And her 
FACE !…oh my, oh my, oh my!  Somewhere between Meg Ryan and Genna Elfman.  
God what an adorable child. In fact, when Jenny first started flirting with 
me, even with all my experience at it, I found my mouth dry and my tongue 
tied.  She was that pretty.

She came up to me after class one day about a month into the course, and 
said, “Excuse me, Professor Hardwick, but don’t you think Lawrence is a 
little up tight?”  We were working on a section on D. H. Lawrence, and the 
reading included  “The Fox” and a couple others of his short stories.

“Well, let me see…Miss ….Lovejoy is it?  Hmm, nice name, Jennifer Lovejoy.”

“Oh, and I DO ….love…joy,” she said batting her eyes.

“Ah…well, an appropriate name too, then, eh?  Now, what was your question 
again?” Actually, I remembered it perfectly.  It is not the average student 
who sees through Lawrence.  Most novices believe his reputation as a sexual 
libertine, so Miss Lovejoy’s question drew my attention.

“Well, it has always seemed to me that Lawrence’s characters are usually 
pretty inhibited.  He never lets them REALLY enjoy all that sex he’s always 
talking about. Even Lady Chatterley…which, incidentally, I read when I was 
in eighth grade.  Even she was a little up tight.”

“Why, Miss Lovejoy, putting aside for the moment your precocious taste in 
reading, whatever do you mean?  Isn’t putting flowers in someone’s pubic 
hair the height of naturalness and ease?”

“Well, that was a nice scene, but even there, don’t you think there’s guilt 
somewhere in there?  I mean, Lord Chatterley has got to be crippled, and 
all, before Lawrence will allow Lady Chatterly to make it with the 
gardener.”

“The game keeper.”

“Huh?  Oh, right, the game keeper.”

“But may I say, Miss Lovejoy, that you have made a very astute observation 
about Lawrence.  There is probably a very good paper in it for this course.”

“So you are blowing me off, Doc?  You don’t want to discuss this with me?  
You want me to research it and write a paper on it all by my lonesome?”

“In truth, I am just finding it difficult to stand here and talk to you.  I 
am finding it hard to focus on what you are saying because you are just so 
damned pretty.”

Jenny had the good taste to blush as she said, “Why thank you, kind sir.”  
Adding almost under her breath, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

At that point we looked directly into each other’s eyes, and I could feel 
the old chemistry click in.  I could see it in her eyes.  She was 
interested, or at least curious, sexually.  No doubt…been there before.  I 
felt that delicious sliding, that thickening of the blood in the neck and in 
the loins that says, “Oh, hmm, …yes.”

Quick as that…simple as that. I was in love…again.  It always amazes me.

Pressing my advantage, I said, “No, of course not, Miss Lovejoy.  I would 
love to discuss this subject with you.  Over coffee, say, in the faculty 
dining room?”  In fact, the faculty dining room, nondescript as it was, was 
a coveted place for undergraduates to meet with their professors.  It was 
mostly a status thing.  Faculty members didn’t invite just any students 
there.

Jenny seemed genuinely impressed even though she mocked it lightly.  She 
smiled winningly, “Oooh, the ‘inner sanctum,’ the faculty dining room.”   
Then she glanced at her watch.  “But I’m not free until four,” she pouted.

“Well, that’s good.  Actually I am not free until about four thirty, myself. 
  Why don’t you come to my office about then, and we’ll take it from there?”

Gaily, with a broad wink, and saucy audacity, Jenny said, “Okay, Professor, 
but I gotta tell you, I’m not an easy kind of girl.  Ya gotta take me to the 
faculty dining room if ya wanna get into my pants.”

“Mademoiselle, it would be my pleasure.”

She cocked a speculative eye at me.

“To take you to the faculty dining room.”

“Ah.” She said demurely.

“Ah, indeed.” I said quietly.

Jenny smiled mysteriously as she gathered up her books. “See you at four 
thirty, Professor.”

See you at four thirty, Miss Lovejoy.”


After our “Tea” in the faculty dining room (where we actually did discuss 
Lawrence, by the way), the following five days went by in a blur for me.  
Jenny Lovejoy flirted more and more outrageously, but always at least 
semi-discretely.  In class she would sit in the front row, in the plaid 
wraparound skirt she frequently wore, and gradually spread her knees as she 
slouched lower and lower.  Occasionally she would absently scratch the 
inside of her thigh.  On Thursday, she didn’t wear any underpants.  It was 
all I could do to concentrate on my lectures.  And after class she would 
remain seated, seemingly working at her homework until all the other 
students had cleared the room.  Then she would again slouch as she lifted 
her skirt over her knees and begin to ask me questions…not all of them 
academic.

“Are you married, Professor Hardwick?”

“Divorced.”

“Kids?”

“My marriage was childless.”  (I actually do have one child by a 
student/lover some five years ago.  I pay regular child support and see the 
little nipper, and his mother,  frequently.)

Jenny either didn’t understand or chose to ignore my ambiguous reply.  She 
turned to the Lawrence story we were studying. “So, when Marche focuses so 
closely on the fox’s brush (which I take it means his tail), she’s really 
looking at it as a phallus?”

“Well, as something sensual, something sexual, at least.  Maybe it is 
supposed to suggest her sister’s ‘brush,’ as it were.”

“See, that’s what I mean.  Lawrence never really just lets it all hang out, 
does he?  Never calls a cock a cock or a cunt a cunt.  It’s always a fox’s 
tail, or a horse’s rump, or a shotgun…”

“He does use a fair amount of sexual symbolism, yes.” (If she thought I was 
going to be shocked by her language, well, she didn’t know me very well, did 
she?)

“But this stuff about ‘blood consciousness,’ Professor.  Isn’t Lawrence’s 
idea to get sex out of the brain and ‘down where it belongs’?”  (She asked, 
pointing down to where it belonged) “So why all the symbolic stuff?   That 
appeals to my brain, it doesn’t appeal to me ‘down where it belongs’.” Jenny 
suggestively ran her hand, palm up, into her inner leg and slumped farther, 
into the very pose of voluptuous decadence, suggesting an invitation to the 
heat, high between her thighs.

“Um, Miss Lovejoy?  Perhaps I could suggest some other readings you might 
find more…stimulating.”

“By Lawrence?”

“No, by Anais Nin, among others.”

“Anais Nin.  Anais Nin?  Where have I… Oh, yeah, as in, ‘Oooh Anais, you’re 
soo smawll’….” She said, imitating Uma Thurman’s line from the movie, Henry 
and June.

“Yup, that Anais Nin. Did you ever read any of her Delta of Venus?”

“No, but I love it already…What a title!”

“Perhaps I could loan you a copy.”

“Perhaps we could read it together?”

“Sort of … play the roles as we read?”

“Cool.”

“Well, Miss Lovejoy, if you would care to join me for dinner at The Hound’s 
Tooth, tonight?  I will bring a copy and we can entertain the hunting set 
with an oral presentation.”

“Ooh…an oral presentation….in public! What time?”

“Why don’t you drop by my office about seven?”

“Date.”

“Date.”

I did not, of course, bring Delta of Venus to the Hound’s Tooth, but the 
evening went well. Jenny was as demure as a daughter in the quiet luxury of 
the country club dining room (a place were few of my colleagues and none of 
the undergraduates ever ventured). We made small talk and stared into each 
other’s eyes.  When we finished the meal, we repaired to my house for the 
after-dinner entertainment.

“Drink?”

“Wine?”

“For you, m’ dear, I have an excellent Madiera.”

“Ah,” she sang,  “Have some Madiera, m’ dear?”

“I promise not to get you drunk and take advantage of you.”

“Well, damn!  What are we doing here for then, anyway?” she asked gaily.

“Some pleasures are best savored with a clear brain.”

“Yeah,” she razzed, “You old guys. Can’t get it up when you’re drunk, huh?”

“For you, my sweet child, I think I might be able to get it up if I were 
comatose.”

Jenny swung around to face me in my living room.  She stood, bemused, head 
tipped to the side. Waiting to be kissed.  Her eyes glistened as a small 
smile played on her full lips.  I stepped into her embrace and we kissed, 
gently at first, exploring the sensations of each other’s smell and touch. 
The soft wetness of her mouth was delicious.  She gave a little flick with 
her tongue between my lips and pulled her head back.

“Mmmm.  Nice.  I always wondered what it would be like to really kiss my 
father.”

“And I, what it would be like to kiss my daughter.”

“You don’t have a daughter,” she said scornfully.

“Theoretically speaking.”

“Oh, shit…not THEORY, not BRAINS, not LAWRENCE!.”

“To the bodies then.  Fuck the minds.”

“NOOO, Professor! Fuck the BODIES!”  And she moved in close again and began 
putting some passion into her kisses.  Soon we were deep into each other’s 
mouths, licking, and nipping, body temperatures rising.

We began undressing each other as we headed for the stairs.  By the time we 
were at the master bedroom, Jenny was down to her underpants, and I was 
completely naked. I admired for the first time her full, up-tipped, slightly 
out-tipped nipples, her breasts riding like the porn star, Dierdre 
Holland’s.  In fact she was shaped a lot like that luscious Dutch treat.  
Flat stomach, nicely shaped butt, slim shoulders, and still that Meg 
Ryan/Genna Elfman face and hair.  Stunning.  She wiggled her butt as she 
turned away from me and slid her panties down.

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, knocking us both into a 
sprawl on my kingsize bed.  I fell more or less on top of her and then 
rolled to the side.  I have found that the sudden, surprising, hard contact 
followed by tender caresses inspires just the sort of rough and tumble 
atmosphere I like.  Jenny gasped as she was hugged, knocked to the bed, and 
fallen upon, but then grinned as she turned to me lying by her side.

“Ooof!  Wow…Hmmm,” was all she said, lying there slightly stunned.

“Hmm, indeed, Miss Lovejoy,” I said as I caressed her face. “And now, my 
not-so-coy- mistress, ‘Let us tear our pleasures with rough strife/ Thru the 
iron gates of life’.”

“Ah…at last…poetry that has some guts to it.  Tear away, Professor.”  Then, 
out of the side of her mouth, “Ya wanna tear off a piece a’ dis?  I’ll give 
ya what’cher lookin for.” And she plunged at me, giggling, aggressively 
covering my face with kisses.  She rose up on her knees and shoved my chest 
down on the bed.  Then she virtually dove at my cock, taking nearly all of 
it into her mouth and throat at first swallow.  She pumped vigorously with 
her head and hands for thirty seconds, bringing me nearly to orgasm by the 
very quick physical attack.  She would have continued, and I would have 
come, if I hadn’t shoved her off and thrown her down on her back.  I hopped 
over to kneel between her open legs and attacked her cunt with my mouth, 
muff-diving with my mouth wide open and my tongue straining out. Fifteen or 
twenty licks later, Jenny was writhing and moaning, her silky thighs 
fluttering on my cheeks.  She, however, did not push me off, but allowed me 
to continue until she arched her back and let out a long low wail of loss 
and fulfillment.

When she could breathe again, she said, “Oh, WOW!  Oh, wow, Oh, wow.  Jeez, 
I never came like that before.  There must be something to you old guys, 
after all!”

“Experience IS the best teacher, lover.”

“Or, an experienced teacher is the best lover,” she giggled. “Com’ere, you 
randy old goat.” And she drew me up on top of her and guided my fully 
engorged cock into her hot and swimming little vagina.

We fucked long and slow for a while.  As my ardor mounted, we synchronized 
faster and faster, until we were a regular fucking machine, banging deep and 
hard, hot and messy, humping like two frenzied chimpanzees. Five minutes 
later I was right at that delicious the brink of inevitability. I felt the 
sperm build up, and I let it drive again and again the length of my cock, 
from deep in my ass, ramming up the length of my cock in great gushes of 
thick cum, squirting over and over into Jenny’s hot womb.  Pumping to make 
babies, to make babies, to make babies.

We rested.  Jenny demonstrated how in touch with my mood she was when she  
murmured,  “Hmm…wonderful…That was such a FULL fuck!  I felt like I was 
getting pregnant, right THEN.”

“Maybe you were.”

“No, silly, you think I want to get knocked up by somebody as old as my 
father?  I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen.  I wouldn’t do that to 
myself…or to you, for that matter.”

In truth, this was good news to me.  I have paid for abortions before, but 
it is always a heartrending scenario, to be avoided where possible.  Then, 
of course, there is Julia’s child, the little nipper, so all in all I’d just 
as soon avoid any complications of the pregnancy sort.

By the time I took Jenny back to her dorm around 2 am, we had managed to 
make love another three times, although the last one was all Jenny. Gone are 
the days when I could come six times in a night.  Three or four is about my 
limit these days.

For the next month, Jenny and I “hung out,” to use her terms.  She began 
studying in the evenings at my house.  She’d work at the kitchen table, then 
curl up in one of the big chairs in the living room and read.  Idly, 
seemingly unconsciously, she would begin to take her clothes off as she 
read.  She’d rummaged through my closets and found a silky Victoria’s Secret 
robe that my wife, Renata, had abandoned when she abandoned me.  So Jenny 
would casually strip to the buff, all the while reading a book, and slip on 
the silky green robe.  Then she’d sit back down and gradually expose more 
and more leg, until the robe was parted right up to her navel and she was 
rubbing her thighs and playing with herself.  All idly, all seemingly 
unconsciously.  Finally, she would look up to where I was watching, 
mesmerized, and grin.

Sometimes we just dove at each other, right there in the living room.  
Sometimes we went into the kitchen and she lay on the table, or sat on the 
countertop, or stood leaning against the refrigerator.  She was a tremendous 
fuck no matter where, agile and athletic, and oh so compliant.  It was like 
waltzing with a good dancer, she seemed nearly weightless in  my arms, 
anticipating my every move.  Willing to try anything.

Once or twice we even made it all the way up to the bedroom. It was during 
one of those bedroom sessions that we made our bet.

Visions of little ten year old nymphs clouded my brain.

After that there was about a week in which I didn’t see much of Jenny 
outside of class.  I finally asked her to see me after class.

“What’s up, Jenny Lovejoy?”

“Oh, nothin’,” she said, disingenuously.

“Where have you been? I’ve missed your lovely presence.”

“Um…I’ve been working on something.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…remember our bet?  Give me another day or two…”

“Well, Miss Lovejoy, I didn’t really expect you to follow through on that 
little bet. In fact I’m not sure I really want you to try.”

“Ah common, Professor. What are ya, chicken?”

“Not so much chicken as just not really a pedophile.”

“So undergraduate coeds are fair game, but nobody younger, huh?  What a 
wimp! Com’on, Professor, put your money where your mouth is.”

“Called a wimp by someone less than half my age?  Never. Bring it on, Miss 
Lovejoy!”

“A’riight!  How about this?  Saturday, about one, I will meet you in the 
park, by the swings.  Be there or be square.”

“Be there or be square??  What are you, a child of the fifties?”

“Just trying to put it in language you would understand, Daddyo”

“Groovy.”

“There ya go.”


Saturday, about one, I entered the town park, not knowing quite what to 
expect.  There by the swings were about eight or ten little girls, attended 
by three or four college girls.  As I casually strolled up, Jenny let out a 
shriek, “OKAY, ladies, the ice cream man is here!”

The college girls proceeded to line the tots up and march them over to the 
Good Humor truck parked across the field.  Jenny sidled up to me and cooed 
“Candy is dandy…. You wouldn’t mind offering a few cream filled goodies to 
the orphans, would you?”

“Cream filled goodies all around, Miss Lovejoy.”

“Oh rapture.” Then turning to the kids, she said, “Children, this is 
Professor Hardwick.  He is a very distinguished college professor here at 
ESU.  And he wants to buy all of us an ice cream cone.  Isn’t that nice?”

A chorus of pleasure greeted me.  On the way to the truck, Jenny handed me a 
little Beanie Baby and a tube of fruit flavored lipstick. “I think you’ll 
know when to give these out,” she said.

The whole tab was less than $25.  Cheap at twice the price…  And so I spent 
the next hour or so cavorting around the park with the girls, small and big. 
  In the course of that time, Jenny singled out two little girls who were 
both very pretty.  One was a latina child, and the other was probably of 
Swedish extraction. Jenny brought them over to where I was resting on a 
bench and introduced them. “Dr. Hardwick, may I present Maria and Inge to 
you?  Girls, this is Dr. Hardwick. He’s the man who bought you your ice 
cream.”

In unison, eyes on the ground, Maria and Inge sing-songed, “Thank you, Dr. 
Hardwick.”

“Girls, I am honored to make your acquaintance.  Maria?  What a lovely name! 
How old are you, Maria?”

“Ten.”  Maria was a small child, with an olive complexion and thick black 
hair in a single braid down her back.

“May I give you something, Maria?”

She looked up, clearly surprised, as I pulled the little Beanie Baby out of 
my pocket. Maria reached a shy little hand out and took it with great awe.  
My heart lurched.  You would think no one had ever given her anything before 
in her life.  Inge looked on with intense jealousy.

“And Inge?  Let’s see what I have for you.”  Inge was a good half a head 
taller than Maria.  She was just entering that gangly phase of puberty when 
a girl’s feet outgrow her body.  Did I detect a very slight swelling in the 
chest?

When I produced the fruity lipstick from my pocket, Inge’s face lit up like 
a sunny day.  The two girls sat down beside me on the bench and hugged me.  
Jenny explained that the children were from The Kinstead, an orphanage her 
sorority had taken on as a charity.  The college girls acted as big sisters 
to the kids.  Starved for affection, these street-wise waifs responded with 
great gusto, hanging on the college girl’s necks and generally making all 
the physical contact they could. Now they were swarming me.

Maria, in particular was very demonstrative in her search for attention.  
She eventually ended up sitting in my lap, running the Beanie Baby around my 
chest and up at my face, having it kiss me again and again.  Inge, 
meanwhile, sat with scorn on her lips, commenting occasionally on how 
‘immature’ some girls were.  She was clearly jealous of the attention Maria 
was generating for herself.  When we stood up to rejoin the group, Maria 
took my hand.  Inge immediately, and aggressively, took my other hand.  So 
we returned to the others with me between the two little girls and Jenny 
following along behind, grinning away.

Jenny arranged with the orphanage for Maria and Inge to spend the night at 
the sorority.  Needless to say, she quickly spirited them out of there and 
brought them to my house in her beat up old Volkswagen.

I greeted them at the door.

“Well, hello, ladies.  Welcome to my house.  Won’t you please come in?  My, 
Maria, aren’t you pretty?  And, Inge, is that a new dress you are wearing?  
It is very pretty too.” For some reason, both girls had on party dresses.

Maria blushed with pleasure and murmured,  “We wanted to look nice for you, 
Dr. Hardwick.” Even Inge nodded agreement, looking wide eyed and a little 
scared by the new surroundings.

“Here, let me show you girls around.  This big old house used to belong to 
Peter Cottontail, and he left lots of neat stuff around.”

“No it didn’t,” Inge said scornfully. “Peter Cottontail is just a story.”

“Oh, don’t be too sure, Inge.  Come see what he left in the living room.”  I 
had brought down from the attic a big box of the Easter things I had 
accumulated over a life time, some from when I was a child.  Now the little 
girls, Jenny, and I trooped into the living room and began picking through a 
whole box of stuffed bunnies, mechanical chickens, music boxes, and various 
other toys and decorations.  The kids spent the next half hour playing with 
the stuff, decorating the living room and generally amusing themselves and 
us.  Maria brought a music box with a ballerina on top over to me, and I 
wound it up for her.  She waltzed around the room with it in her hands to 
the strains of “The Skaters’ Waltz.”  Not exactly Easter, but, hey…  Inge 
found a pair of bunnies who were embracing with velcro arms.

She brought them over to me and said, “Lookit, it’s you and Jenny.  I betcha 
you guys hug and kiss all the time.”

Before I could respond, Jenny jumped in, “Sure we do, Inge, Professor 
Hardwick and I are lovers.  We kiss, and we hug, and we do all sorts of 
stuff.”

“Yeah, and I’ll bet you go to bed with him too,” Inge said with feisty 
scorn.

“Certainly we do!” said Jenny.  “It’s fun!  That way we can be REALLY 
friendly,” she said leering at me.

Inge, however, was nobody’s fool.  “Oh sure.  And then he puts his thing in 
you and you get pregnant.”

Maria had stopped what she was doing and was listening intently.

I said, “Well, Inge, it doesn’t have to be that way.  Sometimes people just 
like to be with each other, and they don’t have to get pregnant.”

“Even if he puts his thing in her?”

“Even then, sweetie.  Jenny takes a pill everyday that makes it so she can’t 
get pregnant.”

Suddenly, Maria piped up, “An’ I can’t get pregnant ‘cause I’m too little.”

“You’re not too little for somebody to put his thing in you, though,” Inge 
said in disgust.

“I know that!” Maria replied hotly. “Mr. Peters puts his thing in Shawna all 
the time, and she’s even littler than me.”

“You mean Mr. Peters the janitor at the orphanage?” Jenny asked.

Not to lose center stage, Inge cut in, “Yeah, an’ he has ‘shows,’ too.”

“What do you mean, sugar?” I asked.

“He, like, gets a bunch of girls on the stage and makes them take their 
clothes off.  And his friends watch.”

“Did you ever get in one of his shows?”

“Yeah, once.  But then he wanted us kids to do stuff with each other, like 
lick each other on the bottom and stuff.  And he wanted us to come down off 
the stage and be with his friends.  And they touched us, and one of them 
even put his thing in Sally’s mouth.  Those old farts smelled bad too, like 
beer breath and everything.  I got all cold..  I didn’t want to do it 
again.”

Jenny said, “Well it doesn’t have to be all cold and nasty like that.  If 
you do it right it can be very warm and friendly.”

Inge looked at Jenny skeptically.  Jenny got up and went over to Inge.  She 
took her in her arms and rocked her, caressing her cheeks and generally 
petting her.  Inge began melting, and was soon clinging to Jenny around the 
waist.  Meanwhile, Maria had crawled up into my lap.  The atmosphere was 
heating, and these two little waifs wanted to be loved.

Maria reached up and put her arms around my neck.  Then she shifted so she 
was straddling me as I sat there on the couch.  I put my arms around her and 
drew her in for a big hug.  Her face nestled hotly into my neck.  Her party 
dress, of course, was way up around her hips, so her little white underpants 
were rubbing me right on the cock, which was beginning to show signs of 
life.

Jenny, meanwhile, drew Inge’s right side into her body and began caressing 
and massaging Inge’s left  shoulder, working along the collar bone, and 
eventually laying her whole palm on Inge’s chest.  Inge stared intensely 
into Jenny’s eyes and allowed herself to be felt up.

Quietly, Jenny started moving Inge toward the stairs. “Time for beddy-bye, 
children.”

I picked up Maria and the four of us trooped up the stairs.  When we got to 
the master bedroom, I began undressing Maria.  She was completely into it, 
buying the whole scenario as a natural outgrowth of the day.  I don’t know 
what she thought was going to happen, but clearly she was not going to try 
to stop it.

Inge, on the other hand, showed she was aware of the situation when she 
said, “So now we gotta ‘put out’ for your guys, huh?”

“Oh, Inge, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Jenny said.  
Just because we like you and we want to touch you doesn’t mean that you have 
to agree.  And if you don’t agree, we’ll stop.”

Inge, however, had her own agenda.  “Well, I want HIM, not you,” she said.

Jenny turned all sweetness and light,  “Its okay, Sugar.  You can have him.  
I’m sure Professor Hardwick wouldn’t mind swapping, would you Professor 
Hardwick?”

In truth, I did prefer Inge, mostly because she was more mature.  As it was 
to turn out, of course, it hardly mattered who started with whom.  By the 
time the night was over, we would all be in each other’s bodies.

Maria flowed into Jenny’s embrace, and Jenny covered her face with warm 
kisses as she continued to undress the ten year old.  Maria’s long jet black 
hair tangled a little in the camisole as Jenny pulled it over her head, and 
Maria stood patiently with her arms over her head, blinded by the camisole 
over her face.  She was totally nude and showed a sweet, sweet little girl’s 
body.  Nicely rounded butt, sturdy legs, completely flat stomach, no hair at 
all in the pubic area, and not even the hint of breast development.  Just an 
adorable little girl to fuck.

Inge, on the other hand, although only a year older at eleven, had started 
to develop in earnest. As I stripped the clothes off her, I noticed that her 
breasts were just beyond the ‘nipples only’ stage, and stuck straight out 
about an inch and a half in perfect cones.  And when I pulled her panties 
down, I saw that she was just starting to develop pubic hair.  Little  wisps 
of curly blonde hair  played above the top of her cunt, and very fine hairs 
were starting along the edges of it.  Her hips were nearly mature as they 
flared from her small waist.  There were traces of baby fat under her chin, 
and her feet were about two sizes too large for the rest of her.  She was 
Humbert Humbert’s absolute wet-dream of a Lolita. It was all I could do to 
keep from ravishing her on the spot.

Once she submitted to it, Inge became as docile as a you please.  She too 
was just going to let happen whatever was going to happen.  When she was 
completely nude, I drew her to me and hugged her lightly.  Her head was 
about at my chest, her little breasts about at my waist, which meant that my 
erection (and I had a big one by this time), was lying along her stomach, 
poking at her ribcage.  I bent down and kissed her very gently, first on the 
cheek, then on the lips.  Her mouth was hot, and she was developing a 
feverish look.  Suddenly she responded fully, reaching her slim arms around 
my neck and kissing back with some passion.  I had awakened the woman in 
her.

Jenny and I quickly stripped.  When I was naked, I drew Inge’s body to me 
again and ran my hand down her hard little stomach to the top of her cunt.  
Slowly, I slid my middle finger along the slit, brushing over her clitoris 
and probing gently for the opening.  When I found it, I kept my finger more 
or less along the slit, but began, just barely, bending my fingertip so that 
it penetrated a little into that hot and velvety hole.  Inge was incredibly 
soft and satiny.  I had never felt such a young and delicate cunt before.  
It was like soft rose petals, all pink and silky.

Inge was fully aroused and began kissing me passionately now, sucking at my 
lips and clinging tight around my neck.  I picked her up gently and lay her 
on the bed.  I moved beside her and she rolled to me. Face to face, her ass 
was about at my waist, and I wrapped my hands around it, massaging and 
caressing, feeling the full flesh of her downy cheeks and then running my 
hand up to the tight hard small of her back.  Then down around between her 
ass cheeks, probing the area between her anus and her cunt, poking a little 
here and a little there.  I clutched her haunch, with the tips of my fingers 
just inside her cunt, and moved and squeezed gently.

Inge threw her leg over my chest and rolled on top of me, kissing and 
licking and sucking all over my mouth, her blond curls falling on either 
side of my face.   I brought my hand around between her legs from the front 
and began rubbing the back of my hand and the back of my thumb into her 
pubic delta and between her legs.  Gradually I began inserting my thumb up 
her vagina.  She offered no resistance, and it became obvious that she was 
not a virgin.  My eleven year old little nymphet had had sex before.

This disquieted, thrilled, and relieved me, all three.  At the same time 
that I thought, “poor kid,” I thought “okay, anything goes,” and also, “at 
least I am not the despoiler.”  My conscience, weak as it was, was let off 
the hook.  Besides which, Inge was apparently having no qualms herself.  
Having decided to submit, she was getting into it completely. I decided that 
I might do more damage to her self-esteem if I stopped.  At least she knew 
she could do THIS.  Such are the rationalizations of a demented mind.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bed, Jenny and Maria were cuddling and 
giggling.  Jenny was acting like a big sister, discussing very frankly what 
it would be nice to do to each other.  “Okay, now put your hand down between 
my legs and try to get your fingers into me.  No, no, just a little lower, 
sweety, around under a little farther.  That’s right. Here let me show you.”

Jenny, lying on her back, helped Maria to sit up crosslegged beside her and 
bent Maria over her stomach. She took Maria’s little hand and guided it to 
the opening in her cunt.  Then she pressed it flat there and began coaxing 
Maria’s fingers into the hole.  Gradually, all of Maria’s fingers 
disappeared into Jenny’s vagina, and then in went her thumb too.  Soon she 
was fisting Jenny halfway to her elbow.  Jenny lay back with a glazed look, 
breathing raggedly as Maria pumped her little hand in and out of Jenny’s 
cunt.  Soon she arched up, cumming in spasm after spasm, impaled by the ten 
year old’s fist.

Inge and I had stopped what we were doing to watch.  As Jenny subsided, Inge 
began wiggling on my thumb once again.  I rolled her off, and turned her so 
that her legs hung over the side of the big bed. Standing on the floor, I 
spread Inge’s legs and began playing my cock at the entrance of her fluffy 
little vagina, easing the lips apart with the head of my cock and wetting 
the tip with her cunt juices.  Inge lay there looking up at me,  reaching up 
with her arms, her eyes half closed, swooning and pleading for fulfillment 
with her fevered eyes.  Slowly I eased my cock into her vagina. Its 
incredible rose-petal softness overwhelmed me.  Her cunt was very tight, but 
also very hot and wet, and oh so silky!  I could hardly believe the tender 
delicate feel of such new flesh.  Looking at her, lying there below me, 
panting lightly, her young skin was so fresh and soft, it was all I could do 
to hold back for a few more seconds.

Inge’s incredible little breasts had swollen more in her excitement, and 
seemed to throb up at me in puffy little cones.  She looked up at me in a 
swooning little smile, her eyes half closed.  She was the perfect lustful 
woman/child, exquisite in her youth and her longing.  D.H. Hamilton, in all 
his photographs of pubescent beauty never created a more poignant image.  
AND I WAS FUCKING HER!

I moved.  In and out of her hot, wet little cunt.  Penetrating to the hilt.  
At the apex of each thrust Inge gave a little gasp.  Once or twice I could 
feel my contact with her cervix. Slowly Inge’s vagina expanded, engorged 
even more, and became hotter and wetter.  Finally, she was writhing on my 
pole, wrapping her heels around the backs of my legs and drawing me in 
harder and harder.  Then she moaned as her chest heaved and her head turned 
up and away, arching her back and her neck.  Her blond hair thrashed across 
her face as she twisted this way and that.  The image was too much for me.  
Me, standing on the floor, with an eleven year old angel impaled on my cock. 
  It felt like she was a living cock ornament, and my cock, deep inside her 
like a roasting spit, could almost lift her up and wave her around. I began 
to come in huge gushes which burned my whole groin, in that petal soft, 
burning little cunt.

Inge lay there totally spent.  I flopped beside her, lying across the bed, 
face up.  I drew Inge’s mouth to mine and kissed her tenderly, soothingly, 
bringing her back down gently.

Suddenly, Jenny and Maria were beside us. Jenny slid Maria around so that 
she was kissing me on my other cheek, and then Jenny herself got off the bed 
and knelt between my legs.  She moved between them, and slowly began licking 
my balls and then my limp but messy shaft, picking it up with two fingers 
and stretching it out as she cleaned me like a cat.

After a while, we all climbed under the sheets.  Little Maria was out like a 
light in ten seconds, but Inge, Jenny, and I were all wide awake.  Jenny and 
I sandwiched Inge between us, both caressing her soft little body, our hands 
meeting on her breasts or at her cunt. Jenny and I would both insert a 
finger into Inge’s cunt, and masturbate her together, our knuckles rubbing. 
We caressed each other’s fingers as well as Inge, smiling at each other over 
the little girl’s head.  Inge began to be aroused once again as we 
finger-fucked her.  She turned her face to me and reached up to draw my face 
to hers, rolling so that she lay pressing her front along my left side.  
Jenny rolled Inge’s hips back flat on the bed so that Inge was twisted in 
the middle.  Then as Inge continued to kiss me and clutch me around the 
neck, Jenny knelt up and began licking down Inge’s stomach, finally burying 
her nose in Inge’s cunt.  Carefully, Jenny rose up and straddled both of our 
heads, with a knee on either side, so she was sixty-nine with Inge, and my 
head was also between her thighs.  There wasn’t quite enough working room, 
so Jenny lifted her right leg and braced it on the headboard, like a dog 
taking a piss.  By now she was eating Inge full tilt, with Inge’s soft 
little legs splayed.  Inge and I both began poking at Jenny’s cunt with our 
fingers.  When Jenny lowered it a little, Inge began licking as she 
continued to prod two fingers into the gaping red slit.  I reached around 
Jenny’s leg and began playing with her ass.  Inge’s and my heads were 
pressed together by Jenny’s thighs, and her silky blond hair was warm and 
damp against my cheek.  I could feel the pulse beating in Inge’s  right 
temple where it pressed against mine.

Inge came again from whatever Jenny was doing to her down below.  Then, as I 
finger-fucked Jenny’s asshole, Inge licked and fingered her cunt.  Jenny 
soon began convulsing, and Inge and I watched as Jenny’s cunt quivered and 
pulsed.

By this time I had fully recovered.  Inge rolled over and cuddled up next to 
Maria, spooning her body.  Jenny and I rolled together, and I rose up over 
her and started to fuck her in the missionary position.  She smiled up at 
me, “Pretty wild, huh? After all that taboo and illegal shit here we are 
just straight fucking in the old missionary position. Just an average night 
in Sodom and Gomorrah.”

“Jenny, my sweet, I don’t think there is such a thing as an average night, 
anywhere, when you are around.”

She grinned. “Okay,” she said, “So, do I get to go to DisneyWorld?”

“You and your whole sorority!”

How about just you and me…and Maria and Inge…and maybe my roommate Joy…and…”

“Whoa!  Okay.  All of the above.”

“Oh, goody. Now fuck me hard, daddy, lets polish this som’bitch off and get 
some rest.”

We rubbed passionately for another two or three minutes and we both came 
softly, not a big deal, but staring into each other’s eyes and smiling.

In the morning the little girls were rambunctious as hell. They giggled and 
shouted and chased each other all over the up stairs.  They probably used 
three towels apiece as they showered, and when they came down to breakfast, 
they were happy and bouncy, and acting just like normal little kids.  I 
served pancakes with lots of butter and syrup.  Inge insisted on coffee with 
the grownups.  Maria had tea.  As I helped Jenny pack the girls into her old 
VW, Inge clung to me sweetly.  With a sad look in her eyes she said, “So, 
that’s it? We’re not going to see you again?”

When I hesitated, she turned sour quickly, “Oh sure, fuck the orphans and 
then fuck the orphans.”  My heart melted.

“Inge, how would you and Maria like to take a trip with Jenny and me?”

Inge’s face lit up once again.  “Yeah, wow, you mean like over night?  Sure. 
Where?  No, I don’t care. Anywhere!”

“Disney World.”

Inge’s eyes got wide. “Disney World? You mean it?  REALLY? You and Jenny are 
gonna take us to Disney World?”

“If we can work it out with the orphanage, yeah.”

“Oh, crap,” said my delicate little nymphet.  “The Super will LOVE it!  
Getting two brats off his hands even for a little while?  Give the poor 
dears some ‘cultural enrichment’?  Whaddya think, they won’t go for it? 
Hah!”


We were standing in my driveway, by the car.  Inge leapt at me and hugged me 
around the neck while she wrapped her legs around my waist.  In the 
closeness of the embrace she whispered in my ear, “And you can fuck us all 
you want.”  She sealed it with a big kiss on the lips, precociously forcing 
her tongue between my teeth, and taking a big lick of my mouth.  I lowered 
her gently to the ground, hoping that the neighbors were not watching too 
closely.

“Okay, Inge, but you have to behave when we are in public. If you get me 
arrested, nobody’s going anywhere.”

Inge grinned. “So, you admit that what you are doing with us is wrong.”

“Well, its illegal, at least.  You do need to be a little cool about it.”

“Me?  I’m cool.  The Super calls me the Mummy, cause I don’t tell nobody 
nothin’. Maria doesn’t either.  She’s almost as sneaky as me,” said Inge as 
she wrapped a protective arm around Maria.

Maria beamed, basking in the warmth of her new friend’s show of affection.  
The anxiety I was feeling began to subside a little.

We all said our goodbyes and Jenny backed out of the driveway.

When she returned, Jenny told me that they talked a little more about the 
need to keep what we were doing secret, but that both of the little girls 
‘got it,’ and Jenny didn’t want to keep harping on the subject for fear that 
she would make too much of it.  She also said that the little ones were 
excited about the prospect of the trip to Disney World, and wanted to know 
when, when, when.  Jenny said she had suggested that we all might go in the 
summer.   I thought Spring Break, which was about a month away, might be a 
better time. Jenny agreed.

In the following month, Jenny and I took Maria and Inge out several times.  
For KFC, to the movies, and several times back to my house for some good old 
roly-poly on the bed.  My favorite times were when all three girls decided 
to suck me off, taking turns gobbling my prick.  Little Maria could barely 
get the whole head of my cock in her mouth, but she breathed hotly down my 
shaft, and the feel of her soft little ten year old hands sliding up and 
down below her lips felt mighty good indeed.  Inge was more talented, and a 
quick study on what Jenny did.  She and Jenny would double team me, with 
Inge, her little pubescent ass wiggling up by my shoulder sucking my cock 
while Jenny licked, sucked, and played with my balls.

Then all three ladies would get their faces real close together around my 
cock, and rub, lick, and stroke me until great geysers of cum shot up and 
splattered down on them.  They fed each other my cum, smacking their lips in 
mock delight, and generally declaring that this was the best stuff they’d 
ever tasted.  The pretending bordered on the real, and I thrilled to the 
image of a little girl, a lolita, and a young woman all worshipping my cock. 
Jenny began calling it “The Adoration of the Phallus,” like it was some 
religious ritual.

End of Part one.


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