Pretty Little Waif, Woman-Girl Love in the 1940s, Chapter 2: Wednesday's Child

by Puella Almeja Amante

Synopsis: It is 1943 and it has been over a year since Evelyn Johnson's husband Harold went away to the war. Evelyn is trying to earn a few extra dollars by working as a sales lady at the local Woolworths store. She is a very attractive, very normal, 28-year-old woman who has stayed faithful to her husband over the 14 or so months he's been gone. But then one Saturday morning in July, a pretty little 9-year-old girl stepped into her change room to try on a dress.

Evelyn peaked out through the curtains on the big bay window in her parlor. It was a beautiful summer morning. The sun was shining brightly from a brilliant blue sky.

The drive at the side of the house was worn down to bare earth in the tire tracks, but between those tracks, there was a thriving, humped-up strip of healthy green grass.

The woman watched Mr. Bellows amble up the drive and ignore the stone walkway leading to the wide wooden steps on the large front veranda, heading instead down the side of the house toward the back door.

On that fateful day 14 months earlier, before leaving to board the train that would take him to the Pacific Theater Army Processing Center in San Francisco-Evelyn hated to remind herself of that day-Harold had taken an entire hour to remind her of each of the things she would need to take care of in his absence, consulting a meticulous list he'd written out, which was now pinned purposefully to the wall next to the pantry door in the kitchen.

Mr. Bellows, the black man making his way around her house, featured prominently on that list.

"I've spoken to him at length," Harold had explained. "He's a good man. You're to get in touch with him if you need help with anything."

Mr. Bellows was a handyman in the purest sense of that term. And unlike Evelyn, he was a very good driver, so it was only through this kind, elderly black man, that the woman had any use for the 1939 Plymouth P8 Deluxe Coupe that for the most part stayed cooped up in the double-door shed at the side of her house.

Mr. Bellows regularly drove Evelyn to and from her job at the Woolworth's store, and every Friday afternoon, as arranged, he would come by, start up the Coupe and drive down to the general store on Main Street with Mrs. Johnson in the back seat so Evelyn could replenish her food and house supplies.

And it was on those Friday afternoons that Mr. Bellows checked the car battery and the oil, and kicked the tires to be sure the car was properly maintained and kept in running condition.

But today was Wednesday morning, not Friday afternoon. And Mrs. Johnson would not be joining him in the Plymouth. She was sending him to pick something up at an address across town.

Mr. Bellows committed the address to memory without making eye contact with the woman. He needed a good memory because he'd never learned to read.

Evelyn was nervous as she watched the big car back out of the drive and head off down the street. He wouldn't be gone long-20 to 25 minutes perhaps.

She straightened her skirt, and looked around the room, trying to calm herself.

She'd woken early that morning, nervous, anticipating, uncertain what to wear. She'd chosen something simple-a very nice, cotton, short-sleeve blouse, with buttons down the front, and a modest and plain skirt that fell to just below her knees.

Underneath that modest exterior, Mrs. Johnson had chosen more daring attire, pulling those pretty things out from the bottom of her underclothes drawer, those things that had lain hidden there for the past 14 months, those lacey things that she wore to please her husband.

She actually felt a pang of guilt as she put them on, slowly, delicately, as if she was carefully wrapping a very special gift for a close friend, tucking her lovely breasts into the lacey brassiere, seeing how it barely contained them, connecting the tops of her silky stockings to the straps of her garter belt, and finally, pulling those skimpy bloomers on.

She gasped nervously as she surveyed her sexy image in the full-length mirror on the back of the door to their bedroom. The black lingerie looked so bold on her. She looked positively wicked.

Harold loved her like this, intense, brazen, shameless.

She knew she would be there, like this, for her husband when he came home. She would love him. She would cherish him. She would be everything he wanted.

But right now, on this day, she needed this for herself. She needed to look good. She needed to feel good. For the first time in 14 months, she was going to let her sexuality out of its cage.

She'd been a bundle of nerves since Saturday, alternating between intense physical longing, and a deep dread, a fear that she was about to do something that might go completely wrong for her. She wanted it so much. It was almost a physical ache. It scared her.

She had been a virgin when she married Harold of course, but sexual feelings had come to her early in life. She'd felt an uncomfortable enthusiasm for those games she played so willingly with other children-those ubiquitous show-me games.

The memory of a delicate scent tickled her as she stood there in the parlor of her big house. That scent triggered a memory of another time and place.

It had been so long since she'd thought of it, years, many years in fact.

It was a warm summer day and she was hidden away in a hot and stuffy backyard woodshed, playing one of those games with another girl. There was a palpable nervous intensity in that shed. There were no giggling boys this time, just the two of them-two girls, playing a very naughty game.

It was Evelyn who pushed the game further than usual, not just pulling her bloomers down to give her friend a quick show, but taking them right off, extending the play.

There was something exceptionally wicked and exciting about doing that with another girl, sitting up on the wood pile, leaning back, lifting her dress, spreading her legs wide, letting the girl see her like that, even reaching down and pulling her lips apart so the girl could look between them, showing her everything.

And then her young friend returned the favor.

That ancient, childhood memory came back to her now like it was yesterday, being there in the shed, looking at the soft folds of her friend's immature little cunt, seeing it naked, seeing the shape of it, so much like her own but different too. It seemed puffier, and the little bump between her lips was bigger and sticking right out.

Without even thinking, she had leaned closer for a better look. It was then that the scent had come to her, a sweet-sour girlish scent.

Something clicked inside the woman, something stirred by that sweet memory, an uncomfortable association that resonated within her...understanding. She squeezed her thighs together unconsciously. Everything about this made her nervous.

Throughout her teenage years Evelyn had been a proper girl, dutifully saving herself for the man she would marry.

And when marriage came at 19, Evelyn was finally able to embrace her sexuality. She quickly came to love sex. It became a very fulfilling part of her young adult life, having a lover, coming together regularly and often to share uninhibited sexual intimacy and urgency, taking care of each other.

But all of that was gone now.

She had every intention of being a good wife for Harold and waiting patiently for his return from the war. And in the mean time, she thought she'd been quite successful in locking up her adult sexual passions, her desires, her feminine needs. She had very deliberately folded them all up and placed them carefully in a big wooden chest, packing them away for safe-keeping, like precious possessions that she would not be needing for a very long time.

But someone had found that chest and opened it, rummaging through the contents, and now Evelyn Johnson was standing in her parlor, filled with sexual passion and urgency, consumed by it, like 14 months of unfulfilled needs had suddenly overwhelmed her all at once.

She was fully aroused. Her adult cunt was warm and moist, and humming softly to her, conspiring against her better judgment, sensing imminent release, anticipating a workout.

Evelyn shook her head, trying clear it. She was still struggling with the lewd and frightening reality of what she was about to do.

It might have been understandable to anyone, even the most pious of people, that a healthy young woman like Evelyn, left all alone, might have needs, desires, passions that might make her think about straying, and imagine seeking release from a source other than the most current version of her now-stale fantasies of her absent husband.

Although an unfaithful act would be completely inexcusable, any reasonable person might easily say 'yes I can see how she might be tempted.'

And after 14 months-tempted she was.

In fact, it had progressed well beyond temptation at this point.

The deal was actually sealed. Before this day was done, 28-year-old Evelyn Johnson was going to be unfaithful to her dear husband. He was away fighting in the war, and she was going to cheat on him. She was going to fall purposefully and willingly into an illicit, physical encounter with a stranger, someone she had just met, someone who was coming to visit her. She had planned the whole thing. She was going to have sex with another person.

But it wasn't the milkman, or the baker, or the man next door, or her priest, or her husband's brother who was coming to visit her that day. In fact it wasn't the need to be penetrated deep and hard that had driven her to extract her lacey under things from hibernation, and put them on. It wasn't the want of love from a big strong handsome man that had fired up her sexual passions and lured the 28-year-old into infidelity.

It was something completely different, something out-of-the-ordinary, something soft and cuddly. It was a cute little bundle of girlish femininity.

Evelyn had just sent her driver to pick up a pretty little 9-year-old who she'd spent some time with in the change room at the Woolworth's store the previous Saturday.

Something happened to Evelyn in the change room that day. A very naughty and wicked little fire began to burn inside her as she stripped that little girl nearly-naked and helped her try on a dress. Being alone with that pretty little girl, taking her clothes off...it felt good, it felt very good. It felt better than she'd felt in a very long time, and she wanted more.

When Evelyn came out of the change room, she gave the little girl's aunt some money in exchange for having the youngster come to her house one day a week, to help her with the cleaning and chores.

Evelyn's adult cunt purred softly, whispering sexy things to her.

She had plans for that little girl, and contrary to what her aunt might believe, none of those plans involved housework.

She had nervously mapped the whole thing out like a master criminal planning the perfect caper, leaving nothing to chance.

She was certain she knew how to approach the girl. She was going to move slowly and cautiously. She was going give young Rebecca the comforting gift of adult attention and approval, and genuine feminine friendship. She was going to offer the girl that special kind of unconditional, parental-style love. She was going to make friends with that poor, lonely little waif. She was going to pull the girl to her bosom, and cuddle her, and hug her, and kiss her in a very motherly way.

And then, when the time was right, once the girl's guard was down, Evelyn was going to gently offer the 9-year-old a very different kind of love, a warm, grown-up, feminine kind of love.

Those motherly hugs and kisses were going to become measurably more intimate. She was going to let her slender adult fingers take very deliberate and increasingly sexual liberties with the girl, finding the chinks in her thin armor, sneaking under her clothes, touching her, inching closer and closer to those tender, private places, flirting with her, flattering her, whispering soft words of encouragement, calming her, caressing her, molesting her, seducing her.

It was almost unthinkable. It was like she'd fallen asleep one day, and woken up in another world.

She was a happily married woman. She had never before imagined being unfaithful to her husband. And yet here she was...she had just issued instructions to her driver, her handyman, telling him to go and fetch a pretty little girl, and bring her back to the house...for sexual purposes.

And the things she was planning to do to that child...well, let's just say that Evelyn had no intention of limiting herself to a few nervous hugs and discrete little touches.

She was going to take her time, but Evelyn was an extremely motivated adult woman. And she was in an elevated state of sexual arousal. She was in heat and she was determined that she was not going to be denied her delicious little prize that day. Everything was going to go according to plan.

Her instincts had taken over. This had become a predator-prey situation in its purest form. She was going to be on that little 9- year-old like a hungry lioness on a defenseless lamb. She was going to lure that unsuspecting little girl into her lair, coax her gently out of her clothes, and then devour her, slowly, intimately, sexually.

After 14 months of complete sexual denial, Evelyn was consumed by a powerful hunger. She needed to feed, and there was only one thing on the menu-a sweet, immature little girl, with a completely hairless, tasty little cunt between her legs.

Whatever else happened, and whatever the consequences later, Evelyn Johnson had made a solemn promise to herself-before the day was done, she was going to put her adult tongue in that little girl.

It was pretty much all she had thought or dreamed about since Saturday. It was more than a fantasy. It was a consuming passion. The woman was driven by a lewd, lascivious and absolutely irresistible desire to make love to the 9-year-old girl that she'd stripped nearly-naked in the change room at the Woolworths store where she worked four days earlier.

She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to control her intense arousal. It was intoxicating. She had to consciously force herself to calm down and take her time. She didn't want to rape the girl.

Evelyn crossed the room, her eyes unconsciously drifting, looking for anything that might distract her and clear her dark thoughts.

She stopped to look at a very familiar spot on the wall. It was cutout of a poem that had been hung in a very decorative, carved wooded frame. It was a bit of an heirloom, but not one that was worth any money really. It had come to her from her grandmother.

There was a prominent bold heading across the top, with an eight-line poem underneath. It read:

Harper's Weekly, September 17th, 1887

Monday's child is fair of face Tuesday's child is full of grace Wednesday's child is loving and giving Thursday's child works hard for a living Friday's child is full of woe Saturday's child has far to go But the child that is born on Sabbath-day Is bonny and happy and wise and gay

Her eyes lazily scanned each line, and then drifted back up.

Evelyn's adult cunt flushed as she let herself twist the third line of her grandmother's poem into a lewd thought. 'Wednesday's Child...hmmm, would she be loving? Would she be giving?'

Evelyn was certain that she would.

The woman's heart leaped as she heard the squeak of the Plymouth's springs as her car bumped up over the small, dirt hump at the end of the drive. She sailed quickly across the floor to the front window and peered out through the curtains, watching the big car come to a stop near the stone path up along the front of the house.

Evelyn stepped quickly to the front door and opened it. She stood there holding the screen door open as Mr. Bellows stepped out of the car and walked around to let the girl out of the passenger side.

The woman watched expectantly, hopefully, as the girl stepped tentatively around the front of the car, looking nervously up at the big house.

There was a moment of hesitation when their eyes met, and then recognition.

Evelyn felt a flush of warmth sweep over her as the girl smiled and quickened her step, bounding up the stone path to the front veranda, leaving Mr. Bellows alone by the Plymouth.

"I'll just leave the car here then mam, and I'll be back at 4 to bring missy home?" the man said.

It wasn't really a question, though it was worded like one. He was simply confirming the arrangement and the woman's expectations of him.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Bellows," Evelyn said.

The girl was stepping lightly up onto the veranda as Evelyn watched the black man amble down her drive, walking away from the house.

She glanced quickly around at the other houses, unconsciously checking for nosy neighbors. No one seemed be taking notice of the girl's arrival.

Their eyes met once more as the girl arrived at her door.

"Hello Rebecca," Evelyn said sweetly, almost overwhelmed and completely disarmed by the charming beauty of the little angel on her doorstep.

There was something different, like a shiny newness in the girl, that made her look even prettier than Evelyn remembered.

"Come in, come in," Evelyn stammered, opening the door wide.

The woman very nearly swooned as the pretty little lamb stepped willingly into her lair. Evelyn paused to take a deep breath as she turned to close her front door. The metallic slap of the deadbolt lock falling into place seemed ominous and final.

It was almost too good to be true. She had the entire day to make it happen. She had a pretty little girl all alone with her in her home...an innocent, juicy little peach that was ripe for plucking.

Evelyn closed her eyes and forced her lurid fantasies into remission, driving those lewd thoughts from her mind, composing herself before turning to face the child.

"My goodness," she blurted clumsily. "You look absolutely lovely today Rebecca."

The girl grinned and blushed.

She looked so different from their first meeting four days earlier on the floor of the Woolworths store downtown. She had seemed so unkempt, so waif-like that day, with her un-brushed hair and her unwashed look, like a beautiful but tarnished piece of silver.

But today, her natural beauty was shining through. She looked fresh and clean, and lovingly groomed. Her hair was pulled into ponytails and tied with red ribbons on each side of her head. Her high-trimmed bangs highlighted the charmingly girlish look of her lovely face.

And the dress was nice, not new of course, and perhaps even a hand-me-down, but lovely none-the-less. It was a typical girl's summer dress, a short-sleeved, solid-color, pale green, button-back thing that flared out in a wide skirt that hung to just above her knees.

And those little knees were naked, inviting the woman to imagine those equally naked, soft girlish thighs hidden under the material of that summer dress.

Rebecca's tall white knee socks were tucked into a pair of scuffed-up canvas sneakers that had probably been white at one time, but could now only be described as dirty grey.

"Here, let's take these shoes off," Evelyn said, kneeling in front of the girl, tugging at the laces on her sneakers.

The woman had a very defendable reason to remove the girl's shoes. She truly did not want Rebecca traipsing around her house, or walking on her Persian rug, wearing a pair of dirty sneakers. But, as she removed the girl's shoes and turned to place them on the mat by the door, the reality of that moment was not lost on Evelyn. She was intimately conscious of the fact that these little shoes were only the start.

The woman's eyes browsed up the girl's body, hesitating momentarily at a spot just below her waist. The pale green dress hung loosely on her, disappointingly hiding all evidence of shape or form underneath, but she paused anyway, letting herself anticipate the inevitable unveiling of Rebecca's under garments, allowing herself to imagine the shape, the color and the texture of the pretty little bloomers the girl had chosen to put on that day, allowing herself to imagine what it was going to be like to take them off her.

Their eyes met. The girl looked so expectant, so compliant. But there was a hint of vulnerability and nervous uncertainty there as well.

Evelyn smiled, reassuring the girl.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said warmly, rising to her feet, taking Rebecca's hand in hers. "We're going to have so much fun today."

Evelyn led Rebecca into her parlor and sat down on the big, high-back sofa, leaving the girl standing in front of her, still holding onto her hand.

The woman actually twitched, feeling a nervous ticklish sensation flicker its way across her adult cunt as she looked at the charming little 9-year-old standing in front of her.

Evelyn responded instinctively to a momentary impulse, and moved prematurely, parting her knees, inviting Rebecca to step between them, wrapping her arms around the girl, giving her an innocent little hug, hoping that she hadn't blown it by moving too quickly.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry, it's just that I'm so glad you came today," she whispered softly, urgently, confessing her desire, apologizing for it.

Evelyn bit her lower lip, and closed her eyes, disappearing into a wonderfully warm sensation as she felt the little girl's arms wrap around her, and hug her back.

"Mmnnngh," Evelyn sighed softly, turning her head to nuzzle the girl's neck, pressing her adult lips onto soft naked skin, kissing her, breathing in a very pleasant, clean scent.

"Mmmm, you even smell irresistible," Evelyn blurted.

"Um, I had a bath last night," the girl replied clumsily, as if an explanation was required.

Evelyn pulled back a little and looked into Rebecca's face.

"Oh, did you?" she asked.

The girl nodded.

"Aunt Millie didn't want me to because I usually have a bath on Saturday," she explained. "But I cried, and then Uncle Ted said I could have a bath if I wanted one."

It was Evelyn's turn to blush.

"Oh really," she said, smiling warmly at the girl.

The woman had been completely disarmed. Here she had been thinking, and planning, and scheming of the ways she was going to take advantage of this defenseless little girl, and seduce her, and molest her, and use her sexually.

Was it possible that this little girl's understanding of what was going to happen to her that day was that sophisticated? Could she possibly have sensed how intimate her contact with the adult woman was going to be, to the extent that she was willing to risk a confrontation with her aunt so that she might be able to bathe, and prepare herself for that intimacy?

"And who did your hair this morning?" Evelyn asked.

"I did," the girl replied, blushing lightly.

"Because you were coming to see me?" Evelyn asked.

The girl's blush deepened as she nodded her reply.

"Well it looks beautiful," Evelyn said. "You look beautiful. And I'm so flattered that you that you did this for me. But I'm curious, what did your aunty think about you looking so nice this morning?"

"Well, she looked at me kind of funny," Rebecca answered. "And she asked me why I was all dolled up."

"And what did you say?" the woman asked, remembering the momentary suspicion on Rebecca's aunt's face at the Woolworths store on Saturday, when Evelyn came out of the change room with the girl.

Rebecca shrugged.

"Sweetheart, this is very important," she cautioned the girl. "Remember what I said to you on Saturday. We can have a lot of fun together. We can be special friends for each other, but it has to be our secret. We can't let your aunt find out. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded.

"Ok," Evelyn said, pulling the girl into another hug. "We can fix this. You can tell you aunt Millie that I gave you an apron to wear today, so you wouldn't get your dress dirty. And I'll send a note back with the driver telling her that you shouldn't dress so nice when coming to work here. Ok?"

"Ok," the girl responded.

"And next time, don't ask to take a bath the night before," Evelyn continued. "You can have a bath when you get here if you want."

The woman almost added...'we can have one together'...but cautioned herself against such an intimate reference so early in the game.

"I just have to remember to turn the hot water on before you come," she added.

The girl pulled back a bit from their embrace.

"You can turn hot water on?" she asked quizzically.

Evelyn smiled.

"Yes," she explained. "We have an electric tank that heats the water when we turn it on."

"Oh," the girl replied. "My uncle Ted has to heat up the water on the cook stove out in the summer kitchen."

Evelyn smiled.

She was absolutely struck by the beauty and naivety of this young girl, so soft, so innocent, such a lovely face, such wondrous eyes, such a pretty little mouth.

"I am so glad you came to see me today," the woman whispered softly, reaching brush a couple of strands of hair off her cheek, watching the girl blush and lower her eyes shyly. "You are so pretty...like a lovely little princess."

She could sense a little bit of nervousness in the girl's body, but no serious anxiety, no tension, no fear.

Evelyn leaned forward and touched her lips on Rebecca's forehead.

The girl murmured softly but made no attempt to pull away.

Evelyn kissed her forehead again, and then inched downward, kissing the tip of her nose, making the girl blush.

Things were happening far too quickly. The girl had just stepped into her house moments before, and Evelyn was already entering the danger zone.

This wasn't how she'd planned it. This was supposed to be a slow seduction. But she couldn't stop herself, she wanted this little girl, she wanted to hold her, she wanted to hug her, she wanted to touch her, she wanted to kiss that pretty little mouth.

The woman's heart was thumping nervously in her chest as she discarded any thoughts of caution and gave in to her immediate desire, making her move on the girl, right then and there.

Evelyn Johnson murmured softly, closed her eyes, tilted her head slightly to one side, and boldly grazed her adult lips down onto the 9-year-old girl's sexy little mouth, pursing them lightly, kissing her, giving her a series of tender little love-pecks.

And these were not innocent, motherly kisses. These were urgent, insistent, tenderly-placed lover's kisses.

Her plan was out the window. The woman had no idea where she was going next. She was acting on impulse alone, seizing the moment, reveling in it, feeling her adult cunt flush with warmth as she gently planted a series of tender little kisses on Rebecca's 9- year-old lips.

And as it happened, she did not have to make the next move. The girl made it for her, murmuring softly, snuggling in closer, slipping her slender arms further around Evelyn's back, offering the woman a nervous, responsive hug.

It was an extremely subtle gesture, almost unnoticeable...a little murmur of content, a timid, girlish attempt at an embrace.

But for the sexually-charged woman, it was a signal, a message, received loud and clear. The girl was responding her. She was receptive. She was willing.

The 9-year-old might not completely understand the significance of those intimate signals, but in effect, Rebecca had just given a grown woman permission to sexually molest her. She might as well have whispered that consent directly in Evelyn's ear...'it's ok. You can have me if you want. I'll be a good girl for you.'

Evelyn moaned softly and pressed her adult lips directly onto the 9-year-old's mouth, initiating a long, sensuous, closed-mouth, lip-rubbing kiss, moving gently, holding it, making it last.

The girl squirmed tentatively and snuggled even closer, letting the kiss happen.

There was no pretending now.

Evelyn Johnson, a sexually mature 28-year-old, married woman, was all alone in her parlor with a pretty little 9-year-old girl. She was sitting on the edge of her sofa with that little girl between her knees. She had her wrapped in a lover's embrace. And she was kissing her passionately on the mouth.

No one could possibly have mistaken what was happening in that room for anything even remotely described as innocent.

And there was absolutely no resistance in the girl. Evelyn was in heaven. Her adult cunt was buzzing softly, flushing, lubricating, anticipating a workout with the youngster.

She slipped her lips off the girl's mouth, tracing a line of tender kisses across her cheek to her ear, taking a moment to catch her breath, whispering softly.

"Mmmngh, I want you Rebecca," the woman confessed in a gaspy whisper. "I want to take care of you. I want to love you."

The woman moved her knees instinctively, spreading them wider, making more room for the girl between them, coaxing her into an even closer embrace, letting the 9-year-old's body push the hem of her skirt right up into her lap.

The result was immediate and electric.

The woman's body jerked excitedly as one of the 9-year-old's soft girlish thighs pressed up against the very center of her adult sexuality.

Evelyn flinched nervously as she felt her body respond, switching to auto-pilot, pressing back, her pelvis twitching, moving instinctively, rubbing from side to side.

It was brazen. It was bold. It was unforgivable. She was rubbing her adult cunt up against a 9-year-old girl's thigh.

Evelyn felt the girl's body tremble lightly at that extremely intimate contact and then melt, relaxing completely, submissively, giving in to the woman's bold sexual aggression.

The cat was out of the bag, and so were Evelyn's hands, moving, flirting downward, touching the girl, feeling her.

"Oh fuck I want you so much," the woman gasped as she cupped Rebecca's girlish bum in her hands and gently squeezed those cute little cheeks through the thin material of her little summer dress.

She pulled back looking into the girl's lovely face, seeing confusion and nervousness, but not a hint of fear. The girl's lips were parted. She was breathing deeply. Her eyes were half-closed.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Evelyn whispered. "I shouldn't use bad words in front of you."

She hesitated. The girl looked so innocent, so submissive, so willing.

"It's just that I can't help myself, I want you so much." Evelyn added, leaning down to touch her open lips on the girl's, letting their warm breath mix.

"I want you so fucking much," Evelyn whispered, using the f-word again.

She needed the girl to understand the grown-up, sexual nature of the things they were doing, and the things they were going to do, and oddly, using the f-word, seemed an appropriate way to do that. It was something intimate, something very naughty that she could share with the girl.

It is important to remember that Evelyn Johnson was not a vulgar woman. She was a proper lady. She never used the f-word, not even in anger. The only time that word ever rolled off her tongue, was in the privacy of her bedroom, in the heat of passion, when she whispered that intimate obscenity and others to her husband, conspiring with him in the animal intensity of their sexual arousal.

And now she was using that word with a little girl, for the exact same purpose...for intimacy, and to engage the girl in a secret sexual conspiracy. She was using the f-word to teach a 9-year-old girl about sexual intimacy, to help her understand it.

But she was also holding back.

If the Evelyn had actually been speaking the completeness of her mind in that moment, confessing all of her intimate desires to the girl, then in fairness, she should have added the following:

"I want to lick that pretty little cunt of yours. I want to tongue-fuck you sweetheart."

Because that is exactly what the wickedly horny, sexually deprived woman was thinking as the fingers of her right hand slipped down the back of the girl's legs, flirting their way past the hem of her little dress, finding soft, naked, girlish skin, touching it.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," she whispered softly, letting her breath slip between the girl's open lips, following that breath with the bold tip of her adult tongue.

Rebecca squirmed in the woman's arms. It all felt so strange, so wicked, and it was happening so quickly.

She knew that funny things were going to happen during her visit with the lady she met at the Woolworths store. She knew the lady wanted to do things with her, things that grown-ups aren't supposed to do with little girls.

She should have said no. She should have told her Aunt Millie that she didn't want to work for this lady. And if her aunt insisted, she could have pretended she was sick that day, or she could have told her aunt and uncle that the lady had kissed her and touched her inappropriately that day in the change room.

But 9-year-old Rebecca didn't do any of those things.

Instead, she talked her uncle into letting her have a bath the night before. And that morning she chose a pretty dress to wear, and fixed her hair up in ponytails with two pretty red ribbons.

She knew what the lady wanted from her, and it was a little scary because she'd never done anything like this before. She'd been warned about grown-ups who like to do things with little girls.

But she liked this lady, and she'd made a decision. She'd decided to ignore those warnings.

She didn't know all of the things that were going to happen to her that day. She had absolutely no sexual experience at all.

And several times over the last four days, when she allowed herself to imagine what might happen in the woman's home, she had pictured herself standing in a big room, not unlike the room she was in at the moment, She imagined herself just standing there frozen, helpless, embarrassed, unable to move, as the woman slowly and methodically removed her clothes, all of them, unwrapping all of her girlish secrets, stripping her as naked as the day she was born, leaving her defenseless and completely available for whatever it was that those grown-ups like to do to little girls.

So there was absolutely no doubt.

The little girl knew what she was getting herself into when she walked into the woman's home. She knew that at some point during her visit, she was going to be stripped naked and sexually molested by an adult woman, and that no one was going to come to her rescue.

It made her incredibly nervous and a little scared to think about being bare-naked with the lady, and doing naughty things with her, and keeping it secret from her aunt and uncle.

But strangely, it also made her feel flattered and special, and mischievous and tingly, in an excited sort of way, knowing that the pretty lady wanted her, that she had chosen her.

So in a general sense, she may have known what she was getting herself into, but nothing in her young life had prepared her for what she was experiencing at that moment. Her body was trembling, her mind was racing, and her fingers were clenching nervously as she struggled with the alien sensation of having an adult woman's tongue pushed into her open mouth, circling around, playing with her, exploring.

And the sound and feel of the woman's heavy breath and her soft whimpers were oddly familiar. It reminded her of those strange sounds that she sometimes heard coming from her aunt and uncle's bedroom, late at night, nervous, anxious, sexual sounds, sounds that made her feel funny between her legs as she lay there under her blankets.

"Mmmmnth."

It was the girl's turn to whimper as the slender fingers of the woman's right hand slipped up under the back of her dress, up onto the material of her bloomers, touching her bum, feeling it, gently squeezing her cheeks, feeling her up, molesting her.

There was not even a hint of resistance in the girl. There was no effort to protest or retreat from the intimate touch of the woman's hand.

Evelyn's left hand joined in, working quickly, hiking up Rebecca's dress in front, draping it over the material of her own skirt in her lap.

For the woman, it was like the temperature in the room had just gone up several degrees. Down there between her legs, she could now feel the soft naked skin of the girl's thighs brushing over the tops of her stockings, and above that, touching her own naked skin, and above that, making contact with the warm crotch of her sexy black bloomers.

Evelyn's pelvis squirmed delightfully, celebrating the intimacy of that contact, brazenly rubbing her adult cunt up against Rebecca's naked leg.

They were at the threshold.

Evelyn pulled her head back and looked into the little girl's face, into those nervous, submissive young eyes.

It was time.

The woman's right hand moved, two slender fingers slipping down over the curve of the girl's cute little bum, pressing the material of her bloomers down that into little valley between her cheeks, curling upward, letting Rebecca feel the deep intimacy of that touch.

Those eyes, those soft, lovely waif-like eyes, so innocent, so trusting, so completely filled with resignation, suddenly went wide with surprise as the woman's bold adult fingers made contact with her little bum hole, touching it, pressing against it.

"It's ok," Evelyn whispered, calming the girl. "I'm not going to hurt you. I wouldn't hurt my little princess."

The woman leaned forward and kissed the girl again, moaning softly as she probed the little girl's mouth with her adult tongue, circling around, going deep, staking her claim on the 9-year-old.

Her right hand moved again, seeking a new level of intimacy, flirting up over the girl's bum, finding the waistband of her bloomers, feeling a warm flush of excitement sweep over her.

Unlike the old-fashioned tie-up bloomers Rebecca had been wearing in the change room the other day, these bloomers had a stretchy elastic waistband.

The girl gasped nervously as Evelyn's adult fingers tucked down the back of her bloomers, slipping onto the soft naked skin of her young bum, feeling it, touching it.

It was happening. They were crossing that intimate bridge together, hand in hand.

Evelyn ended their kiss, dragged her lips across Rebecca's cheek, and gasped softly in her ear as she celebrated the wickedly pedophilic sensation of actually having her adult hand pushed down the back of a little girl's underwear.

The adult cunt was flushing warmly. She had her. She had an innocent, submissive little 9-year-old girl all alone in her home. She had her cute, naked little ass in her hand. She was touching it, feeling it, squeezing those sexy little cheeks. And there wasn't an ounce of resistance in the little waif.

Evelyn whispered boldly in Rebecca's ear.

"There we go, now we're getting somewhere," she cooed softly "You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

She felt the girl tremble and then nod tentatively.

The woman nuzzled her ear.

"Say it," Evelyn whispered, slipping her middle finger down between the cheeks of the girl's bum as she spoke. "Tell me you're going to be a good girl for me;"

"Awwwhhh," the girl gasped, feeling the nervous cheeks of her bum flex and twitch uncontrollably as the tip of the lady's finger touched the tight circle of her little bum hole, pressing against it.

"Say it," the woman whispered, pressing against the ring of the girl's little anus, not really making a serious attempt to push inside, but suggesting that she might, feeling the girl's cheeks squeeze together defensively, feeling her lift up onto her tippy toes as she struggled with the strange sensation of having the lady's bold adult finger pressing up against the entrance to her young bum.

The girl almost swooned. She'd never imagined this. She'd never imagined the lady touching her like this, down there.

"I'm going to be a good girl for you," the 9-year-old gasped desperately, giving the woman what she wanted, as if voicing that admission might somehow relieve the intense embarrassment she was feeling at the intimate touch of the woman's bold finger on that very private part of her young body.

Evelyn relaxed, letting the girl calm down, pulling her finger out from between her cheeks, pulling back from their embrace, looking into the girl's eyes.

The girl was gasping nervously. She looked like a child who'd fallen into deep water, wide-eyed and anxious, struggling to keep her head at the surface.

Evelyn grinned. And that grin was completely genuine. It was the satisfied, confident grin of a woman in complete control, a woman who was going to get everything she wanted.

"Don't be nervous sweetheart," she said in a reassuring whisper as she quickly slipped her left hand under the girl's dress in front. finding the waistband of her bloomers there, tugging it downward, tucking underneath, letting her bold adult fingers slip down inside there, flirting their way down the soft naked skin of the girl's lower tummy, down onto the puffy softness of her immature little mound.

With some amusement, Evelyn watched Rebecca's eyes and mouth open wide in surprise as the woman shamelessly maneuvered two of her fingers down over the young girl's mound, and tucked them between her legs, finding the delicate, puffy, hairlessness of her cute, naked little 9-year-old cunt, touching it for the first time, feeling it.

"Oooh that's it," the woman cooed softly. "There it is. There's that sweet little honeypot."

"oooohhh, oooohhh," the girl gasped, not so much in response to the physical sensation of what was happening to her, but more as a nervous emotional reaction to the tender touch of the adult woman's slender feminine fingers on that very private area of her young body.

No one had ever touched like that before.

"There we go," Evelyn whispered, leaning in to lightly peck at the girl's lips with her own. "That's a good girl, just relax. Let it happen."

Evelyn was absolutely glowing inside. All of the uncertainty she'd been feeling about that day had melted away. It was 10 o'clock in the morning. She had six hours to enjoy this tasty little bundle of prepubescent femininity, and she planned to make use of every minute.

And the girl seemed so resigned to the whole thing, so compliant, so willing,

The 9-year-old had allowed herself to be lured into the woman's home, and into her arms. The girl had conspired in her own seduction, simply by choosing not to resist. Through her actions and inactions, she'd given an adult woman permission to sexually molest her. And now she was paying the price for that little bit of childhood daring.

The lady had her adult fingers down inside her bloomers. She was touching her little cunt. She was playing with it, rubbing it gently.

The girl whimpered softly but offered no protest whatsoever as Evelyn's slender middle finger slipped between her puffy little lips, finding new intimacy, exploring, flirting down over the bump of her girlish clit, and lower, into that soft, warm, pink area below, finding the tiny forbidden circle of Rebecca's tight little cunthole, touching it, circling around the edge of it, slipping into the center, pushing lightly, insinuating.

Evelyn put her mouth on the girl and tongue-kissed her as she played with her little cunt, murmuring contentedly, reveling in the incredible feeling of being in a deeply intimate embrace with another human being for first time in 14 months, feeling her adult cunt literally buzzing with pedophilic excitement as she sexually molested the 9-year-old girl in her arms.

Evelyn slid her middle finger back up and circled the precocious little bump of Rebecca's girlish clitoris, playing with it, caressing it, rubbing it gently, first on one side, and then the other, feeling it flush and stiffen under her delicate touch. And then it came...an unexpected series of tell-tale twitches and soft, nervous gasps. The girl was actually responding to the touch of those bold adult fingers between her legs.

Evelyn opened her eyes, leaving her lips in place on the girl's mouth, feeling their warm breath mix. The girl's eyes were closed. She was breathing sharply in a series of soft gasps that seemed timed perfectly with the nervous little twitches of her body.

The woman smiled. She knew exactly what she was seeing, and she had not planned for this. She was absolutely delighted. She had seduced an innocent, prepubescent child, a flat-chested little girl, with an absolutely bald, little-girl-cunt between her legs. This girl had obviously not even begun the journey towards sexual maturity. So Evelyn fully expected that the pleasure part of this experience was going to be a one-way street. She had no reason to expect that this little child might actually become physically responsive or sexually aroused.

Of course she had no real experience to draw from with girls this age. She'd never attempted to have sex with a child before. She had never even considered the possibility that a 9-year-old might be capable of sexual arousal.

Evelyn murmured softly. She'd chosen her new lover very well indeed.

The fact that this little 9-year-old was actually capable of experiencing pleasure through the sensitive bump of her cute little clitoris, was a completely unexpected bonus for the woman. It was going to make kissing, licking and sucking that little love-button so much more enjoyable and rewarding, for both of them.

Evelyn had not formed an intimate relationship her own clitoris until she was 14 or 15 years old. She remembered the wonderfully addictive sensations she discovered as a young teenager, laying in bed at night, listening to her older brother's deep-sleep breathing from across the room, nervously tucking her fingers between her legs, rubbing herself, masturbating for the first time.

Discovering those secrets about her body had been life-changing for Evelyn.

And now, as an adult, it was absolutely exhilarating to imagine that she was going to introduce a much younger girl to those wonderful, feminine sensations. She was going to help a 9-year-old girl discover the intoxicating secrets of her cute little cunt for the first time.

This was such a wonderful and unexpected development.

It meant that she could teach this pretty little waif from across the tracks to absolutely crave the pleasure of having her sweet little kitty licked. And the girl would love her for it.

Evelyn's heart was thumping in anticipation...

She was going to light a fire inside this little girl, a hot sexual fire. She was going to spend some quality time with her determined adult mouth on Rebecca's immature little cunt. She was going to spread her young legs wide, open her up and tongue her tight little 9-year-old fuck-hole. She was going to suck on her cute little love-button. She was going to make this little girl squirm.

Evelyn was absolutely aching. She wanted that little cunt. She wanted to taste it.

But first she needed to get the girl naked, and as intense as her desire was at that moment, she still wanted to take her time. She wanted to make this last. She wanted to savor everything.

Evelyn slipped her finger out from between the little girl's legs and pulled her hand out of her bloomers, lifting it up, bringing the warm, wet tip of that finger up to her mouth.

Rebecca's scent was strong, intoxicating, and undeniably vaginal, but different, not like an adult vagina, slightly more pungent perhaps, and sweet at the same time...delightfully girlish.

Rebecca's eyes drifted open as that scent worked its way past her parted lips and registered with the taste buds in her young mouth.

Evelyn let the girl watch as she very deliberately slipped the moist tip of her middle finger between her lips and brazenly sucked Rebecca's girlish cunt-juice into her mouth.

"Mmmngh," Evelyn murmured, whispering softly to the girl. "I'm so glad you came to visit me today."

The woman hesitated, and then added... "I think I love you. And I think I knew that from the moment I first saw you in the store. I've thought about you every day, and I couldn't wait for you to come and visit me." The girl blushed.

"And I have another confession to make," Evelyn continued. "It's kind of embarrassing. Do you want to hear it?"

The girl blushed again and nodded nervously.

"Well...When I thought about you, it's just that you're so sweet and pretty...and sexy," the woman whispered, leaning in close, hesitating momentarily, letting the boldness of her confession sink in. "All I could think about was being a very special girlfriend for you, being close to you, being naked with you, making you feel good."

Rebecca was gasping softly, nervously.

Evelyn slipped her lips over the girl's cheek and whispered in her ear.

"I wanted to see you naked the other day in the change room," the woman continued. "I wanted so bad for you to take your bloomers off and let me see you like that. But we didn't have enough time."

The two of them were deep in the heart of the seduction now, both of them knowing it was going to happen, holding hands together, tip-toeing delicately towards the next level of intimacy, negotiating it.

The girl murmured softly, letting the woman's naughty words flirt with her.

In truth, those bold words and their intimate meaning did not come as a complete surprise to the 9-year-old. Rebecca was young, but she was not stupid. She had sensed almost immediately in the change room, as her dress was coming off, that the pretty saleslady would like to see her completely naked. She had felt the furtive touches of the lady's hands on her young body, touches that went too far and stayed to long to be innocent or accidental.

In fact, although her approach was playful and somewhat cautious, the saleslady had not made a serious intent to hide her desires that day in the change room. She'd made it clear what she wanted from Rebecca.

And the girl had thought about all of those things many times since Saturday.

But more importantly, she had sensed that deep inside the woman was actually very lonely, and Rebecca knew all about loneliness- the kind of loneliness that makes you feel sad all the time.

The woman's soft whispers found her.

"But, we have enough time today Rebecca," Evelyn whispered enthusiastically. "We have enough time right now."

The 9-year-old whimpered softly, feeling a nervous anxiety bubbling up inside her as the woman continued.

"Do you think you could do that right now princess...take your bloomers off for me?" the woman asked. "And let me see how pretty you are?"

The woman pulled back to look into the youngster's eyes.

It was working. She was seducing the girl emotionally, peeling away her inhibitions, taking away her reasons to say no.

The girl seemed completely under her spell. She watched as the 9-year-old blushed, lowered her eyes, and nodded her head submissively.

"That's a good girl," Evelyn whispered, praising Rebecca. "Here, why don't you come up here on the sofa," the woman suggested, helping the girl, lifting her, coaxing her up on the cushion beside her. "There we go, now lay back for me."

Evelyn maneuvered Rebecca down onto her back, and then lifted the girl's legs and positioned them so that one was tucked behind her down the back edge of the sofa, and the other lay across her lap. The hem of the girl's dress lay draped across Rebecca's thighs like a loose veil across her girlish femininity.

"Now," Evelyn cooed softly, grinning playfully, letting her eyes drift flirtatiously down the girl's body. "Do you have something to show me Rebecca?"

The girl blushed nervously and squeezed her eyelids closed.

The 9-year-old was clearly struggling. It was difficult for her. It was all happening so fast, all of the naughty things she'd imagined, and more. The woman had already touched her, in those places.

She had no choice. She'd chosen to come and visit that day, knowing that these things were going to happen. And she'd already promised the woman that she was going to be a good girl for her.

Evelyn's gentle, confident voice came to the girl like a whisper in the fog, reassuring her, guiding her, encouraging her.

"Come on Rebecca, be a good girl and lift up your dress for me," the woman whispered. "Let me have a look at you."

The 9-year-old trembled nervously, hesitated, and then did as she was told, reaching down with both hands for the hem of her summer dress, lifting it, pulling it up, all the way up to her waist, exposing her baggy white bloomers, breaking the cardinal rule of childhood, making herself sexually available to a grown-up, offering herself to the pretty lady who worked at the Woolworth's store.

The woman smiled.

"There we go," Evelyn reassured the girl. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

The girl opened her eyes and shook her head.

Evelyn turned on the sofa, lifting up onto her knees between Rebecca's legs and let the girl watch as she quickly unbuttoned the front of her blouse and tugged it out of the hem of her skirt. She opened her blouse wide, and showed the girl the shape of her modest adult breasts, tucked so delicately into the material of her lacey black brassiere.

"Ok sweetheart, I'm ready," Evelyn whispered playfully. "Now let me see that little pearl of yours. Show me your cunt Rebecca."

The girl whimpered softly and squeezed her eyelids closed again, finding comfort in the darkness.

The woman was talking so boldly, talking about that private place between her legs, using that cus word that she'd heard her uncle use.

That very naughty four-letter cus word crystallized in Rebecca's young mind, cataloging its way into her consciousness, registering with that tender area of her girlish body-her young "cunt".

Suddenly and without warning, a tiny sensation flickered up over the sensitive little button down there, tickling her, causing her to twitch nervously.

Evelyn could see the tension in the girl. She knew this a difficult moment. But it was necessary.

She could easily reach out and strip the girl's bloomers off and have her way with the child right then and there. But that is not what she wanted. She didn't want to rape this little girl, and have her leave the house feeling scared and violated.

Evelyn was a healthy 28-year-old woman who was absolutely starved for intimate companionship and hot sex, having been separated from her husband for 14 long months. She didn't want to abuse anyone, especially a child. She simply wanted to have an affair, a secret, deeply intimate, mutually gratifying, illicit love affair.

The fact that she had chosen a pretty little 9-year-old as a lover, was simply a reflection of a previously unarticulated and unexplored sexual preference that was deeply rooted in her past, in her childhood, a preference for girls, young girls, pretty, flat- chested, innocent little girls with cute, hairless little cunts between their legs.

If the war hadn't taken her husband from her, she perhaps might never have acted on or explored this delicate side of her sexuality. But the war did come and take her husband away. And she waited dutifully, faithfully for him for 14 months.

But then one day, she found herself undressing a little girl in the change room at the Woolworth's store where she worked. And now she had that little girl in her house, laying on her sofa, with the hem of her pretty little summer dress pulled up to her waist.

No, it would not be a good idea to act impulsively and quickly strip the girl so she could have a look at her pretty little cunt. No, she wanted this little girl to be a very co-operative lover. She wanted Rebecca to pull her own underwear down and expose herself, willingly. She wanted the girl to be an active participant in her own sexual seduction.

"Come on sweetheart, don't be shy," Evelyn whispered, encouraging the girl. "Let's have a look at you."

The woman watched the girl's closed eyelids flutter nervously. She watched the 9-year-old's fingers twitch. She watched her slender little hands move slowly, nervously to her waist. She watched her two little thumbs tuck down under the elastic waistband of her underwear.

Then she watched intently as the pretty little waif she'd met in the change room at the Woolworth's store, pushed the front of her underwear down, stretching the waistband all the way down to her upper thighs, unveiling the puffy softness of her girlish mound, exposing the lovely innocence of her immature little cunt for an adult woman.

"Oh thank you sweetheart," Evelyn cooed softly.

It was beautiful. She could clearly see the delicate line of the 9-year-old's sexy little slit and the precocious bump of her immature clitoral hood.

"That is so pretty," she whispered, reaching tentatively for the girl, touching the tips of her adult fingers down on the puffiness of that hairless little mound, circling around, feeling the delicate softness of her young skin, then turning, slipping down between the girl's legs, finding the wonderfully soft lips of the 9-year-old's adorable little cunt, touching it, feeling it, rubbing it lovingly, tenderly.

Evelyn smiled as she watched the girl's young mouth drop open and release a series of desperate little gasps and whimpers.

These were clearly the nervous gasps of child experiencing the strange sensation of having adult fingers between her legs, touching her, rubbing her. But Evelyn knew the nervousness would pass.

There was absolutely no resistance in the girl. She was dutifully holding the front of her bloomers down. There was a series of twitches in her young legs, but she made no attempt to bring them together. She simply laid there and let the adult woman play with her cute little cunt.

Evelyn leaned right down over the girl and kissed Rebecca's young lips as her fingers continued their intimate little dance between the 9-year-old's legs.

The girl's lips pursed nervously and kissed her back.

"Push your bloomers down sweetheart," the woman whispered softly between kisses.

Rebecca moved quickly, almost urgently, to give Evelyn exactly what she wanted, lifting her little bum up off the sofa, pushing her bloomers as far down her thighs as they would go, deliberately stripping herself naked down there, signaling the woman that everything was ok and anything was possible, letting the woman know that she was willing and available.

Evelyn caught that signal loud and clear, and went at the girl passionately, tongue-kissing her deeply, aggressively. Then she focused her efforts between the girl's legs, seeking and finding the delicate bud of the 9-year-old's immature little clitoris with the tip of her middle finger, circling that tender little button, flirting with it, teasing it.

In a few brief moments of passion, the woman worked expertly to breathe life into Rebecca's little clitoris. Under Evelyn's delicate touch, that precocious little button had stiffened right up. It was poking brazenly out of its little cave, communicating directly with the woman, saying "here I am, come and get me."

"Mmmmnggghh," the girl's desperate whimper was muffled by the presence of the woman's tongue in her mouth.

Evelyn moaned softly as she felt the girl's arms rap tightly around her neck, as she felt a series of tell-tale twitches in the girl's pelvis, as she felt the girl's hips begin to move nervously, as she felt the girl's knees pushing outward, seeking to give the woman's fingers more room between her legs.

Evelyn was immensely pleased. All of her aspirations, all of her dreams, all of her desires, were going to be fulfilled. She had the little girl completely turned on. Rebecca was going to be a perfect little lover, hot, sexy, and uninhibited.

She pulled her tongue out of the girl's mouth, following up that long passionate kiss with a series of tender lip touches.

"Oh, you are so sexy," Evelyn whispered between kisses.

The girl responded with a nervous whimper.

Evelyn pulled up a little and looked at the girl's lovely face.

"Do you like it when do this to you sweetheart," Evelyn asked softly as the tip of her middle finger continued to circle the little girl's clitoris, prompting a series of nervous twitches and soft gasps.

Rebecca's eyes opened.

Evelyn almost swooned. It was like she was looking into the girl's heart. She looked so fragile, so vulnerable, so innocent, so available.

"It's ok, you can tell me, it will be our special secret," the woman whispered. "Do you like it when I play with your pretty little cunt Rebecca?"

"yesss," the girl gasped, nodding nervously.

Evelyn smiled. 'What a brave little girl,' she thought to herself.

"Well, I'm going to make you feel even better than this," the woman promised. "But first, here, get up on your knees."

The woman's fingers slipped out from between Rebecca's legs as the two of them rose up onto their knees on the sofa, facing each other.

"Ok, now I want you to take off my blouse princess," Evelyn whispered.

The girl looked up into her eyes questioningly, as if she wasn't sure quite where things were going.

"It's ok," the woman reassured her. "Just take my blouse off."

The girl reached out and followed Evelyn's instructions, placing her hands on the woman's shoulders, pulling the blouse out and down, letting it fall.

Evelyn shrugged her hands out of the armholes and then tossed the blouse aside.

The girl seemed fascinated by Evelyn's breasts.

The woman reached out for one of the 9-year-old's hands, lifting it, kissing the backs of her fingers, then guiding it down onto her chest.

"It's ok," she whispered. "You can touch them if you want. You can touch me anywhere you want."

The girl managed a nervous grin as she explored the shape of Evelyn's breasts with her hand.

"Now it's my turn," the woman said softly as she reached down and placed her hands on the backs of Rebecca's girlish thighs, slipping them up under the hem of the girl's dress, finding the ring of her bloomers wrapped around her upper thighs.

The girl never blinked an eye as the woman pushed her underwear all the way down.

Evelyn smiled as the 9-year-old lifted her knees one by one and allowed the woman to remove her bloomers completely.

"Your turn again," Evelyn said as she stood on the sofa and turned her back to the girl. "Undo my skirt for me princess."

The girl was still on her knees as she responded immediately to follow the woman's instructions, reaching out to pop the button on the thin waistband of Evelyn's light summer skirt, then tentatively tugging the zipper down in back, watching nervously as the black lace of the woman's garter belt and underwear came into view.

Evelyn moved, slowly and deliberately, letting her body move seductively as she inched the skirt down off the curves of her lovely ass, unveiling it for the girl, letting her see it, all dressed up in sexy black lace.

"Um, it must feel good on your skin," the girl whispered, almost as a question, as Evelyn let her skirt fall around her ankles on the sofa.

"What?" Evelyn asked, turning her head to look back at the girl.

"Ahh, your bloomers, and those other things," the girl responded nervously.

"Oh they feel wonderful on my skin," Evelyn whispered seductively as she slipped her hands around and tucked them down under the curve of her bum, then moved them slowly up over her cheeks, caressing herself, letting the girl watch her do that.

Evelyn smiled as she looked back at the girl. The 9-year-old's eyes were focused intently on her ass, watching, looking.

"Would you like a feel," Evelyn asked, reaching back for one of Rebecca's hands, guiding it to her bottom, letting the little girl feel the texture of her lacey underwear, letting her feel the shape of her adult ass.

"It feels good all over," Evelyn whispered suggestively as she slowly turned to face the girl, holding her hand in place, dragging it over the curve of her bottom, around her hip, and onto the softness of her lower tummy.

"It feels especially good down here," the woman whispered as she guided the little girl's fingers down over her mound and tucked them between her legs, pressing them boldly up against the crotch of her sexy lace panties, letting the girl feel the shape of her hot adult cunt.

The girl's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open, but she made no attempt to extract her fingers.

"Oh that's it," Evelyn whispered passionately. "Right there. It feels good right there."

The woman gently pumped her hips in a slow fucking motion as she pressed the little girl's timid fingers up against her adult cunt.

"Unnghh, ya that's it," the woman moaned softly. "Rub my cunt for me princess. Mmmm that feels good. We're going to have so much fun together Rebecca."

Evelyn was tempted to pull the girl's hand up and tuck it right down inside her underwear. She wanted to feel those tiny little fingers directly on her cunt. She wanted to push them inside her. But that would have to wait.

Reluctantly, she extracted the little girl's hand from between her legs and dropped to her knees on the sofa once more.

And there they were, a 28-year-old woman and 9-year-old girl, kneeling on the sofa, facing each other, both of them nervous, anticipating the naughty things they were going to do together.

Their playful undress-me game had left the woman wearing nothing but her lacey black lingerie, her garter belt and stocking, her skimpy little bloomers and her sexy brassiere.

The girl, on the other hand still appeared to be fully clothed in her pretty little summer dress. But underneath that dress, the 9- year-old's pretty little cunt and her cute little ass, were completely naked and available.

Evelyn reached out and pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her, letting her adult hands roam up and down the girl's body.

The girl whimpered softly, wrapped her arms around the woman, and melted up against her.

Evelyn kissed the girl's lips, then pushed her tongue into her mouth as her left slipped down to the back of Rebecca's knees, and inched up under the back of her dress...up the back of her thighs, onto the soft naked cheeks of her little bum, squeezing it, caressing it, pulling the girl up against her.

The woman then let her middle finger flirt its way down the line of the private little valley between the cheeks of the little girl's bum, seeking intimacy with the 9-year-old.

She slipped her tongue from the girl's mouth and whispered a soft instruction..."spread your legs a little princess."

The girl murmured softly and did as she was told inching her knees apart on the cushion seat of the sofa.

"A little more Rebecca," the woman whispered.

The girl's legs parted even further.

The woman had the freedom she was seeking. She pushed her adult tongue back into Rebecca's mouth, and then boldly, without any hesitation, she tucked the tip of her middle finger between her cheeks and touched the tight circle of her tender little 9-year- old anus, pressing up against it, letting the little girl know exactly how intimate they were going to be with each other.

The girl's bum twitched nervously as the woman tongue-fucked her young mouth and pressed her adult finger up between her cheeks.

Evelyn's bold finger found the centre of that tight little button and pressed, pushing up against it, feeling the little muscle spasm briefly and then relax, opening up a little.

The girl's mouth pulled away and dropped back. This was almost too much for Rebecca. She'd never imagined this, being wrapped in the woman's arms, feeling the woman's hand up under her dress, feeling the tip of the woman's slender middle finger pressing against her bum hole.

Evelyn smiled as the girl's eyes rolled up, her head dropped back and her mouth dropped open.

"Owwwgh, owwwgh, owwwgh," the girl gasped loudly

Finally, the 9-year-old's little asshole relaxed completely and opened up for the woman.

"There we go," Evelyn whispered softly, calming the girl. "Just relax, let it happen."

Several years ago, Evelyn's husband, in moment of hot passion, had shown her that giving someone you love access to that very private place, can actually be a very pleasurable experience, and now she was sharing that knowledge with a pretty little girl.

She pushed in, seeking intimate depth, feeling the warmth of the girl's young body embrace her adult finger, feeling that tight ring gripping her second knuckle. She paused momentarily, before pulling out so that only tip remained inside. And then she pushed slowly back in, boldly, lewdly, finger-fucking the 9-year-old's bum, feeling the girl squirm in her arms, hearing her nervous gasps.

Evelyn smiled.

Nothing could be finer on this warm Wednesday morning. She had a pretty little waif in her house. She had the girl's bloomers stripped off. She had her slender middle finger pushed up the girl's bum. And she had the rest of the day to do all of the things she'd imagined doing with the little girl she'd met in the change room at the Woolworth's store where she worked.

Evelyn leaned forward and nuzzled the girl's neck, kissing her way up to her ear, whispering passionately to her.

"Mmmngh, you are so sexy, such a pretty girl," the woman gasped softly as poked her tongue out and flirted with Rebecca's earlobe. "Mmmngh, I want to fuck you sweetheart."

Those strange words shocked Evelyn even as they were leaving her mouth. They were the kind of words her husband used when he was on her. Harold liked to be aggressive in bed, and he liked Evelyn to be submissive.

But now she was the aggressor, and her submissive little lover, was a 9-year-old girl. And as it turned out, the role of aggressor came naturally to her.

"That's right sweetheart," Evelyn whispered. "I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you with my tongue. And you are going to be a good girl for me."

Rebecca gasped nervously as Evelyn demonstrated her intent with the tip of her tongue, french-kissing the little girl's ear.

"Do you understand?" Evelyn asked.

"yesss," the girl whimpered submissively.

"Good," the woman cooed as she slipped her middle finger out of the girl's bum. "Now lets get this dress off of you."

The girl leaned against Evelyn as the woman's fingers worked on the buttons down the back of her dress.

When she was done, Evelyn coaxed the girl out of her arms, and gently tugged the front of her dress forward and down.

Both of them were breathing deeply, Evelyn out of pure arousal, and Rebecca out of nervousness.

The woman smiled as the dress fell away and dropped around the girl's on the sofa.

It was odd, Evelyn had not expected this. The girl was wearing a little white cotton undershirt, the simplest kind, with the thin little shoulder straps. It was a little small on her, the bottom hem barely reaching her navel. It was perfect. She looked like a little angel.

"My god you are beautiful Rebecca," the woman whispered.

She leaned down and helped the girl tug the dress under her knees and pull it right off.

"Ok," the woman said. "Now I want you upstairs. I want you in my bed. Come with me."

Evelyn stood and reached for the little girl's hand, holding it in hers, coaxing her off the sofa, leading her across the room, guiding her up the wide stairway leading to the second floor of the big house.

It was pretty dim in the parlour but the big ceiling light was on in the hallway beside the staircase, so, if someone happened to be walking across the front porch at that moment, and if they happened to look in the big front window and focus past the thin shear curtains, they would have clearly seen a very strange sight indeed-a grown woman dressed in the sexiest of black lingerie, a garter belt, stockings, skimpy underwear and a lacy brassiere, walking up a flight of stairs, holding hands with a very pretty and nearly naked little girl.