lucy of little-hope.

chapter 1.

By j.

If only anyone would care to notice, the sublime picture-of-girlish-perfection that is thirteen year Lucy Green would seem utterly inappropriate for the tiny decrepit bedroom where she now sits.

With blonde hair as yellow and shining as a summer cornfield, so neatly arranged into a pair of ribbon adorned bunches, the beautiful nymph-like girl glows, despite the barest of illumination. Just a flickering 20 watt bulb hangs above her, from the now-rusty ceiling of a 1967 trailer-home.

The walls that press cruelly against her meager living space would seem unacceptably harsh for a prisoner in solitary confinement, walls that compound the ugliness of the world around her, once adorned with pretty pastel pink wallpaper but now desecrated by years of ignorance, and forgotten by an uncaring world.

The unappreciated beauty stands, turns, and reaches down into the old tattered plastic carrier that serves as her school bag, retrieving a text book, her nubile body shivering as the tattered three-sizes-too-small sleep shirt slides up her upper thighs, and lets the cold air slap meanly against long coltish legs and the creases of her panty-squeezed buttocks.

As pubescence brings soft curves to her adolescent breasts, the seams of her white shirt are learning how to abandon her, every wash of the shirt bringing another little tear, another vulnerable little exposure of tender pink skin that the cold air can tease into goose-bumps. Pretty rose colored nipples complain at the cold, little hard nubs pressing against the thin threadbare cotton, while deserving so much better.

Nature’s most perfect and natural pink fingernails tip fingers as slender and agile as the most beautiful of concert pianists’, organize tonight’s homework until it sits with care and precision, albeit on the cheapest of paint splattered, garage-sale-reject desks.

Slowly Lucy sits her pouting bottom cheeks against a plastic crate that should never deserve to kiss them, and a kittenish sob escapes from her lips, the little angel having to blink another tear away to focus her dewy azure-colored eyes on the homework problem in front of her.

But the fluttering of long hazel lashes fail to sharpen the swirly mess of words and numbers before her, guilt ridden wracks of emotion making her mind fuzzy, the harsh memory of Mommy’s words drowning the bright mind that would otherwise complement her perfect form.

“I wish you’d never been born you useless… mistake!” Mommy had said in the height of her anger, and Lucy understands Mommy’s feelings so much more clearly than the middle-school homework problem before her.  She reaches for a paper handkerchief and dabs it against her baby-blues but her sobbing won’t stop, a little splash of salty anguish escaping the tissue, and spanking her lithesome thighs, the sleep top too short now to give them any protection.

The subject of her failure had been Mommy’s latest attempted hook-up, “George”, not that it mattered to remember his name, it didn’t seem like he’d be coming back. “You’re a single-mom? Try putting that in the Craig’s list ad next time Cunt!” he’d yelled as he stormed out of the caravan door.

Lucy tries so hard to hide into nothingness when mom has a friend over, which is no mean feat in a 14 foot long, two bedroom trailer-home. But the child-size “dollar store” sandal, that Lucy had so *stupidly* forgotten by the two-seater sofa, had shared Mommy’s ugly secret with today’s date and closed her doors on yet another potential boyfriend.

Lucy gives up on homework, knowing her muddled mind in no state to concentrate, and chooses to sleep and try again in the morning. After brushing her ivory white teeth, those dainty fingers free the red polyester ribbons and release blonde pony tails so they can cascade down onto her slender shoulders, ready for their nightly brush.

From a plastic cup Lucy’s fingers ignore a plastic hairbrush and opt instead for a finely-toothed steel comb because Lucy knows she deserves to hurt. Each rough pull of the metal sends little jolts of pain to punish her tender scalp, eliciting more pretty teardrops to escape heartbreakingly beautiful eyes and splash her silly thighs. But Lucy finds no girlish act of penitence is going to ease the guilt that fills her soul. What value is silky hair on a girl who is just Mommy’s ‘mistake’?

Lucy reaches for her only toy, Chloe, the fluffy pink bunny rabbit that had arrived on the doorstep one Christmas morning with a note that said simply “hope life gets better…. dad”, and hugs the stuffed animal against the soft delicate curves of her emergent breasts. Lucy knows that she’s no longer a child, but her teddy’s price tag, still attached after all these years, remind her that Chloe is not just her only friend, but also a kindred spirit. Under some gas station logo the price tag reads “Unwanted return, free with car-wash”.

She flicks off the light, and slips those lovely long legs under the stained blue bed-sheet, lowering a delicate porcelain white cheek against a hard unforgiving pillow. “Night-night Chloe” whispers the sad little thing to her toy. “And sorry for being… useless” she apologizes, her cute voice breaking as she pulls the sheets over her shoulders and sobs herself into a night of guilt fueled dreams.

----------------------------*****----------------------------

       REPLY TO: blondebrittany1990

SUBJECT: “Re: Hot 25 yo SWF seeks sugar daddy for LTR”

MESSAGE:

Hello Brittany! I’m Brian, 52, successful business guy, divorced, fit, and looking for a long-term-relationship too! Very much like your self-pic and description so let’s do dinner Friday night, I’ll pick you up. And no problem with you being a single mom, I love kids! See you at 6.30!

Brittany excitedly re-reads the email message that “Retard-Joe” in the strip-club back-office had printed in return for a freebie blow-job. Then folding it and pressing it into her shiny pink clutch purse, she uses her delectable blue eyes, almost as perfect match of Lucy’s, to check her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling plastic glass that represents the trailer’s front door.

The black silk halter top, bought especially today (Target, not Walmart for special occasions!) clings gorgeously and slightly transparently against her 38DD braless natural breasts, and the yellow latex mini skirt borrowed from her daily stripper work-wear, is just the wrong side of ‘hooker’! For a moment she considers panties, but not wanting to send the wrong message, she leaves them off, because (Please God), this *had* to be the guy for her and she *had* to look 110% SEXY!

When the 1997 number-one-runner-up of “Miss Little Hope Radiator and Tire” admires her reflection in the glass door, she can still see a kinda-tight kinda-hotbody that in marginally skinner form had once bought her a place in the school cheer squad. On demand blowjobs for athletic faculty and the jocks probably helped too, but there was no taking it away from her, she was the first cheer-team baby-mama in “Little Hope High school”! So that was at least one win that Lucy hadn’t ruined!

Though after such successes in her youth, she was now held back by the thirteen-year-old hobble next door, and Brittany felt her future was going nowhere but downhill. She knew her twenty six years would soon become twenty seven, while her man-baiting - and pole-dancing - competitors seemed to get younger and younger; hot though she was, even Brittany couldn’t compete with a bambi-eyed sixteen year old dancer with fake ID and the money to buy a two-grand boob job, and a “whore princess” tramp stamp.

But somehow she’d survived so far, by just being different, and being dirty. Not every day, or the other girls would get mean like strippers can, and take her out of the game with a few slashes to the cheek with a box cutter. But on occasional quiet nights she could go for it safely, playing little games for the customers that gave them some extra fun and bought her some extra cash.,

Like the late shift this last Tuesday night when she’d worn Lucy’s precious little school-uniform skirt over her thong, put her blonde hair up in a pony, and impressed the customers with her best recollection of cute cheer-moves from her regular pole. They kind of liked it, the older guys especially, and the other dancers wouldn’t begrudge it so long as it was a one time stunt.

What they didn’t know, was that as she seduced a customer into the “VIP room”, Brittany would wait for Retard-Joe to look away, and then carefully take out the client’s cock for a surreptitious hand job. She’d have it craftily wrapped in her little girls’ lace-edged blue gingham skirt before he looked back, and use her long slim fingers to yank it through the fabric while the client gave her tits a good mauling. With her quick hand, the guys got a happy ending before the song was up, and at least most of them gave her a few extra bucks in tip!

Fortunately Brittany had the good sense to make the guys ejaculate into the inside of the soft flannel skirt or Lucy would think it had been used as a table cloth at the ice-cream-soda fountain! Though the last regular had said, “thanks Brittany, but you sure as fuck ain’t no jailbait no more!” embarrassing her, and putting a close on that particular game.

Her frown curved into a rather mean smile as she thought “if only Lucy knew”, her bookish little nerd next door quite oblivious to guys, having somehow fallen from quite a different tree than her hot-to-trot mama.

And so it was, with the help of such inspired moments, that Brittany made house-fee, paid the rent, and bought the groceries. Tuesday’s game had even left thirty bucks for today’s rare trip to Target! But if she was ever going to get herself out of *this* dive, she’d have to find a man fast. Time was never on a girl’s side.

And with that thought, she glances at the plastic watch that squeezes her slim wrist. “6.30pm… please make him turn up?” she prays to the Craig’s List Gods, just remembering to drop a condom into her clutch purse, though knowing she’ll be happy enough to go bareback if this guy is for real.

From the plastic carton that represents her wardrobe, she finds her sluttiest 6” red plastic strappy heels, slips her pretty feet into them, and stands, looking through the plastic window just in time to see a black 2005 Mercedes Benz 318 looking rather out of place as it turns into the disheveled maze of homes known as “Little Hope Campgrounds”.

“LUCY!” Brittany yells through the thin wall to her daughter’s bedroom, where her daughter has been laying low, having been mostly ignored by her still-pissed Mommy for the two weeks since the “George” incident.

“I think this is my date! Get yourself in the closet where you can’t fuck things up!”

The sexy-rich car purrs up, but drives past her caravan making her heart sink. But then it reverses and stops in front of her door, a man stepping out who (for once!) looks just like his Craig’s list photo!

Brittany’s face is now all smiles.

“Belly in boobs out” she tells herself as she pulls the door open, fresh mascara painted eyes fluttering at the tall stranger as he confidently strolls towards her. “He.. He.. Hello!” she stutters, lines of introduction forgotten as she swallows up his mature and only barely overweight body, his silver tipped and only slightly receding hair, and of course *that* car!

“Brittany!  Damn, you look even better than your pic! Great to meet you!” smiles her visitor, his voice booming and so *classy*, his big strong hands reaching forwards to grasp her bare shoulders with confidence. He steps inside the shockingly third-class trailer home, looking around the tiny combo kitchen with raised eyebrows, but his brown handsome eyes sparkle as they return to gaze at Brittany’s unnaturally large, over exposed, and quite real breasts.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a hell hole like this? Hey, no problem, let’s go and have dinner!” he laughs. And he slips a manly arm inside of hers, leading her towards his car like they were ready to walk her down the wedding aisle! But as he steps outside the open door he pauses.

“Hey!.. Let me say thanks to your little girl, since she’s nice enough to let her mom go on a date with me! Go fetch her baby!”

Memories of the trials of the last thirteen days (well, of thirteen years really!) are fading fast and Brittany smiles back albeit with a rather confused look. “You want to see Lucy? Oh, she’s not important, she’s happy in her room, probably reading her dumb books!”

But Brian’s eyes are full of authority as he says “Actually I insist, just a quick hello then we’ll make it in time for our dinner reservation”, sounding so in-charge and smart at once, that Brittany feels her heart jump because he’s just so fucking FINE!

“Oh, Sure! Of.. of course! Sorry!” she stammers. “LUCY! Come say hi to my date baby!” she calls then giggles flirtatiously, as she feels her new friend’s hand squeezing her panty-less ass.

----------------------------*****----------------------------

Lucy is getting changed in her room when Mommy’s shout comes through the wall, the little moppet planning a peaceful night alone with her book, a pleasure mostly denied since she made her terrible mistake.

Because she was finally ready to forgive herself, her Friday night had begun with the treat of a small square of bubble-gum that she’d been saving for a special moment. And with the fantasy of a little home-alone pajama party in her mind, she shrugs the white school blouse off her picturesque torso, and steps those delectable legs out of her blue-gingham school-uniform skirt. She’s ready to spend a relaxed evening reading in her bed, maybe with the supper treat of a cupful of microwave popcorn!

But as she reaches under the pillow, she discovers her t-shirt is missing! “Oh… Silly me! It’s Wash Day!” she remembers. And as she prepares to pull on her uniform, and retrieve their laundry from the dryers by the shower block, Mommy’s second call-out orders otherwise, requiring the almost-naked darling to race past her mother to the other end of the caravan, where she can squeeze into the secrecy of the tiny storage closet.

As she squeezes into the tiny, dusty, completely dark cupboard, her ear presses against the thin wall, Lucy listening as the car pulls up. As she hears the stranger’s deep cultured voice, Lucy hopes with *all* her heart that this is a man who can love her mommy. She shivers as she listens, her goose-bumped skin adorned only by a too-small pair of counterfeit-disney “three for a dollar” childish panties and a sweet pair of white cotton ankle socks on her pretty feet. On the tips of her apple-shaped breasts, those troublesome sweet-pink nipples are quite exposed and stiffening from being cruelly squashed against the cold closet door.

Despite her discomfort, “this man sounds *nice*” she thinks, smiling to herself. But then Mommy’s voice says “come say hi”, stunning the almost naked girl as she struggles uselessly to think of a polite escape.

“I can’t mama, I’m not ready!” she finally replies with consternation but the man’s big-city voice laughs through the closet door. “What you doing in there you silly thing? Just let me say hello then we’ll leave you in peace!”

She feels down down to the cupboard floor, hoping to find a forgotten sheet or a dishcloth or anything that could cover her but of course - dummy - they were in the laundry building too! Oh, *what* was she going to do? There’s no window, no escape, the opening leading quite directly into the only brightly lit room of their tiny home!

“Lucy, please, come out and say hello NOW, we’ve got a *reservation*!” calls Mommy, her voice sounding a little annoyed but a little proud all at once.

So it is a very under-dressed and very embarrassed Lucy who slowly opens the door, half falling out of the closet’s darkness, long legs bumping awkwardly together at the knees, a tender arm hiding even more tender breasts, while her other lovely hand tries to hide the silly picture of “Dumbo” that adorns her too-tightly-fitted under-aged panties. She manages a quiet “Hi” as she looks up shamefully at Mommy and her new boyfriend in the brightly lit room.

“I… I was getting changed?” she whispers, sounding more like a naughty toddler than the bright thirteen year old we know her to be, head tilted down but those striking blue eyes looking up guiltily, pale cheeks flushing with the prettiest of hot pink blushes.

“Mmmmm” murmurs Brian, his eyes looking up and down the vision of girlish loveliness before him, as thoughts of raping his rapidly hardening cock into the trailer-trash schoolgirl right here right now start to fill his mind. Mom was hot enough as a “milf next door”, but this little thing was worth a million dollars. Though she’d be severely discounted if he got his way!

But being a patient man, not wanting to frighten off the little minx or her dumb slut of a mother too early, he keeps animal urges at bay, and gives the little Lolita a warm smile.

“Damn baby, you’ll catch a cold walking round like that!” he laughs, leaning around Brittany and offering to shake hands with the daughter like she was a proper little lady.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Lucy!”

Lucy moves her balance awkwardly from one ankle-socked foot to the other and with an eagerness to be good for mommy even stronger than her substantial desire to vanish into the ground, she lifts her fingers up from her panties, to return the important visitor’s handshake.

The cheap synthetic panties (‘age 8-10’ and ‘made in china’) are thus revealed, and seem pleasantly dysfunctional to Brian’s highly-interested eyes. Stretched as they are, the material is quite translucent, even Dumbo’s smiling face almost see-through, offering a sweet picture of two softly puffed pink hills, brushed with but a smattering of short blonde pubic hairs. And a gentle valley between that would lead the way into the hopefully-unexplored charms of Lucy’s delicious young body.

Wanting to keep his attention, mama Green rubs her tight ass against her new man as he reaches around her, feeling his warm breath on her bare shoulder, Brittany’s nipples hardening like those of her fast developing baby-girl. As if to show that “momma is never forgotten”, while his right hand is offered to daughter, his left circles Brittany’s 24” waist, the crotch of his pants pressing firmly against her skirt covered ass.

And these are the sensitized ass cheeks of a well-trained lap-dancing slut, so feeling a twitch of movement from Brian’s groin-to-butt connection; she grinds back seductively, not willing to let her daughter’s tardiness spoil her moment!

She notices for the first time that Lucy’s partially hidden breasts are kind of growing, probably ready for a training bra (not that she would rush to buy one!). And her silly daughter does look kind of “cute”, a strange pixie-like sweetness to her face and eyes, and such a slender pink body, like one of those “waif-models” the jealous dancers would bitch about while reading their fashion magazines.

“Don’t think we’re trash, don’t run away?” she tries to will telepathically to Brian, ironically grinding her ass against his pleasingly responsive groin while he makes her daughter’s acquaintance.

And always one to try and make lemonade out of lemons (and her daughter was most certainly her lemon!), Brittany wonders if her new man might think underdressed Lucy was a little cute too, after all he *did* say he liked kids?

“Lucy! Stop being shy, this is my nice handsome new friend! Put your hands down and give him a nice kiss or you’ll embarrass me honey!” she tells her daughter with a “don’t fuck it up” glare. “A nice pretty kiss, and then”… she softly kisses the back of Brian’s neck… “we can go to our “reservation”!”

Now, poor Lucy has never kissed anything other than her stuffed bunny rabbit, even mommy seemed unable to offer more than a hug on birthdays. But the earnest young girl has sworn she would never again let Mommy down, so with all the will power her young mind can muster she slowly lets her arm drop to her belly button, letting Mr. Brian see those delicious breasts, tiny nipples hardening with her humiliation, until they look like little baby pencil erasers.

Her long eyelashes bat at him, like those on a little girls’ baby-doll, Lucy pouting demurely, waiting politely while his eyes admire her body.

He looks at her in the eyes, but then gazes downwards, appraising her like a cattle-man at an auction, examining those soft just-past-tween breasts, smiling at the sight of her painfully erect nipples, then eyes rolling down to admire the slope of her belly and the soft protrusions of her hips. She watches his tongue lick around his narrow lips as his eyes feast on the tender curves and the crease of her precious parts, wrapped too tightly in those silly panties, the flash of a mean animal look passing through his face before it returns to hold the friendly smile.

Her smart but so utterly innocent brain knows that this is a ‘moment that matters’ as the school athletic coach used to say before a Junior High volleyball game. “Maybe this is a man that that can change mommy’s life for the better?” she thinks, always one to put others before herself.

Knowing she has to momentarily overcome the inhibitions that consume her very soul, Lucy *commands* herself to be sweet for this strange man, the inspiration jumping to her that she might pretend (just for a minute?) that he is her real daddy?

So it is with eyes that twinkle with childish affection that she raises herself up on tippy toes in her little cotton socks, girlish fingers lifting to tickle and hug around the late-middle-aged man’s thick muscular neck, the desperate-to-be-good little nymphet pressing her naked belly against the stranger’s crotch and her naked breasts against his belly, rubbing her cheek up against his chest as her mouth tilts up and offer soft pink lips to a make-believe daddy.

The only kisses that Lucy has ever seen are the kisses mommy will give to boyfriends, naughty kisses that precede a nightmarish hour of pounding, moaning and groaning a thin wall away. And so with no other reference to follow, her naïve lips part, the prettiest of wet-pink tongues teasing around them as she smiles up at the man, hoping the smell of her earlier bubble-gum treat won’t spoil it for him. He laughs mockingly at the little princess, but lowers his leering mouth to hers, so that with a soft sigh the most innocent of thirteen year old girls can sacrificially offer her first kiss to a fifty two year old stranger, old enough to be her grandfather.

Lucy feels a firm hand against the back of her pigtailed hair as he thrusts his huge tongue deep into her diminutive mouth, while his other hand’s thick fingers painfully squeeze the behind of her little panties, grinding her body against his, his sour tasting saliva filling her mouth and polluting her bubble-gum-sweetness.

But she must be good, and for the few seconds it must last, she manages to keep a growing revulsion at bay. Not wanting mommy to see in case she’s doing something ‘wrong’, she waits for his tongue to retreat, then slowly pulls her head back, making sure to keep her doll-like eyes wide, and her saliva stained lips in a smile, before saying “And it’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Brian”.

Then quickly, with a floppy-wristed bye-bye wave, she turns her crimson face away, the cutest of butts swinging softly from side to side as she escapes into the darkness of the bedroom corridor, her mind desperately hoping that her shameful inexperienced kiss has made Mommy and her friend satisfied, a hand on her belly urging herself not to cough and gag and spoil everything.

“What a little *whore*!” was what Lucy’s Mommy was really thinking, but it was with a smile, knowing her girl well enough to realize the eagerness was born from innocence. And he was smiling too, her new man Brian looking as happy as a pig in shit for all this female attention, which was *just* the way she needed him to be.

Brian turns and holds the caravan door open (like a real gentleman), then as she steps out, takes her arm and so attentively guides her to his car.

After all, he figures, the chance of snaring a little prize like Lucy has to be worth a couple of dream-date hours for her dumb mama!

----------------------------*****----------------------------

Dinner had been quite delicious, a starter of Shrimp Cocktail, and a main of Fillet steak, which Brian had politely taught Brittany was pronounced without the “t”. (“So would I be  called Brinnany in France” she’d asked, much to his amusement).

She’d secretly wanted to eat the whole eight ounces, but was careful to leave half on her plate, not wanting him to think she would ever become overweight!

And now, as the wait-staff are starting to circle, eager to present the check and go find their own parties, Brittany is sipping at the dregs of her fourth Long Island Iced Tea.

Brittany has been all giggles as she shares stories from her litany of Craig’s List encounter disasters with her new man-friend. “Ooh, and then there was this guy who wanted to fuck me with a dildo. I mean what’s the point of that!” she laughs. “Mmm, but I wouldn’t mind if he’d been handsome, you know, handsome like you?”

And she leans over the table and kisses Brian’s neck then whispers “Umm, I’d love to party with you? But some guys find it difficult at my place, you know, with Lucy being there?”

Brian nods, “Kids make life complicated huh?” he says wisely. “I don’t know how you made it this far Brittany, you’ve had a tough life.” He reaches forward and squeezes the hand of his date. “I’m lucky, got lots of space, one of those new homes up by the park?”

Brittany’s eyes light up like she’s been given a chance to win the state lottery!

“Oh my, you’re in Teardrop Meadows? Oh Brian, that’s wonderful! With a double garage, and a hot tub? Twenty seven hundred square foot with nine foot ceilings in the entrance hall?” She recites the details sounding more like an over-zealous real estate agent than a stripper, facts recorded in her memory from searching the local free paper for dreams of a better life. “Aw, are you sure you’re not married?”

Brian nods with a smile. “Quite sure, and it was her that chose to divorce me in case you wondered. But I take the kids some days and they’re home right now. So what say we have a quick party upstairs then I can get back to them? I’ll go get a room and a bottle of wine, if that works for you?”

The pretty blonde agrees eagerly, letting her tongue coquettishly lick her upper lips giving Brian a déjà vu moment, until he realizes the expression is quite identical to that of little Lucy. Brian gives her a strange smile then walks away to speak with the hotel’s concierge, returning with a room key in one hand, and a cold bottle of house Chardonnay in the other.

And but a few minutes later, they are together in privacy behind the solid locked door of room 411, Brittany standing legs apart, ready to give the strip-tease-of-a-lifetime, while Brian sits on the edge of the “King Double” bed feigning at least moderate interest as he sips at a glass of white wine.

He isn’t making much of a move on her, but no problem, this is Brittney territory and she knows how to play the game! She dims the lights, channel-flips the plasma TV to a music video show, and after running through her set-list of opening poses, starts grinding her ass against the crotch of her brand-new number-one crush.

Her thumbs ease up her halter top to release those *fabulous* DD’s, fingers teasing her nipples to hard knobs then tickling them down her belly until they can push down her micro-mini and show him what a panty-less slut she is.

She rotates towards him, lowering hands onto his thighs, ass swinging to the rhythm of Usher’s latest hit, lips kissing him wetly, as her long blonde hair teases against his face and neck. She finds his hands, lifting them so he can verify the authenticity of her breasts, and then moving her own fingers up to the belt line of his smart casual pants where she can pop the little button that begins his liberation.

With a giggle, she drops to a kneel, face pressing against his crotch, grabbing the silver fly between her perfect white front teeth, wanton slutty eyes never leaving his as her teeth drag the zipper down. “you’re so handsome baby” she whispers as she bounces back up, finding his hands and moving them to touch her freshly shaved pussy, so he can feel her equally genuine wetness.

She starts tugging his pants down, then bends forward, legs straight, arms behind her back like an obedient slave girl, the balance of a ballerina (or pole dancer) letting her mouth plant puppy dog kisses up his bare thigh, until her tongue can lap wetly against the crotch of his boxer shorts.

His cock stirs gently under the gray boxers, and Brittany’s expert fingers reach inside the fly opening, fingers that cup his balls, squeezing them gently as her mouth discovers his 8” long, almost wrist thick, semi hard cock. “oh fuck, its huge! Yum!” thinks the 25 year old stripper as she swallows it to her tonsils, then pulls boxers down off his legs and puts her thumbs under his knees, lifting his legs up and back so her mouth can move to slobber against his balls, before lifting them with her nose and freeing the path for her wet tongue to dart between his ass cheeks and probe itself deep into his anus.

Red sparkly fingernails tickle their way up and down his shaft, while her other hands cups his sack, a thumb pressed on his perineum, and then her cock-hand is jerking up and down his length like an over-achieving milkmaid.  And all the time her tongue fucks in and out his ass, not caring about the taste, because her pleasure is his satisfaction.

But… she knows he’s not quite hard enough, not quite eager enough. No matter, because Brittany is a Little-Hope-High Cheer-Squad-Almunus! There’s nothing this girl can’t do to please a man! Still squeezing his cock she straightens her legs, pressing her breasts against his chest, and kissing his face until her lips are kissing his ear.

“You can do anything you know Brian? Anything you like? You want to fuck me in the ass, is that what you want?” A little twitch suggests he doesn’t hate the idea, but it’s still not the full-on hard-on she’s hoping for.

“Mmm, and before you do, you wanna tie me up? Spank me? Punish me for being your whore?”. Another twitch, he’s getting firmer, and she can’t resist moving her knees astride his thighs, guiding his semi hard cock between her labia, stretching her pussy lips wide, until his cock-head can ease inside her body. Her practiced vagina squeezes at his meat making him smile at her, but still in that polite friendly way, he’s not yet the sex beast she so hopes he can become!

Then her tipsy mind clears for a moment, the curtains of pretty houses and hotel dinners parting with a remembered glimpse of Brian’s hand on Lucy’s ass, his tongue in her daughter’s mouth.

“Oh please don’t tie me up and rape me mister? I’m only thirteen?” she coos in her best little girl voice, followed by a squeal of delight as the cock inside her suddenly pistons out into a rod of iron, Brian’s hot button well and truly pressed.

Brian’s eyes change, a fire behind them, his hands gripping at her waist to afford the leverage to fuck harder into her, as she lifts a hand with mock shyness to her face, them slips her thumb into her mouth! “Aww pwease no daddy, pwease don’t fuck my tiny widdle pussy with your big hard cock” she baby talks, slurring around her thumb, her eyes the picture of naughtiness as drool dribbles from her lips to splash down from her chin onto her voluptuous bouncing breasts.

Brian stands, lifting her with him, Brittany now firmly impaled on his massive manhood, and slams her down onto the mattress, his cock punching against her cervix, the act so violent, so unexpected and so immensely hot that she starts to cum. “Oh Fuck that’s great!!!” she gasps, then remembers the self-assumed role she has chosen, instead moaning “NOOO! Pwease, I’m Lucy, I’m just a dumb baby!”

“Gonna fuck you anyway, you stupid little cunt!” roars Brian, lifting a hand and bitch-slapping his Craig’s List conquest harshly across the cheek, bringing a giggle of submissive delight from her thumb-sucking lips.

“Uh.. uh.. and pweddy pwease don’t rape my widdle ass!” she giggles between gasps in her most girlish voice, pulling off a performance that could have won her a ribbon at the Little Hope Theatre Festival if only the judges would appreciate her kind of drama!

“Fuck, you nasty little whore!” laughs Brian and though his facial expression is mean now, his estimations of Mama Green are rising by the moment. He grabs her ankles, pushing them back and apart until she’s spread like a thanksgiving turkey, pulling his cock out of her wet pussy and lining up his rock hard nine inches with her asshole, before slamming into it like he was an Olympic fuck athlete going for gold!

His fingers find her enlarged clit, and he pinches it roughly, the sensation, coupled with the whole evening’s adventure taking Brittany over the edge, her body exploding in orgasm, her vagina having a spastic fit, her hands falling submissively to the side, fingers clenching and spreading as she’s overcome with the combined sensations of sexual pleasure and finding someone so *special* !

“Nooo Daddy, please don’t fuck me, please don’t cum inside your little Brittany… I mean Lucy!” she giggles between climaxes, almost fucking up, such was the pleasure running through her loins.

But her flawed act seems to have satisfied its audience, because Brian is suddenly groaning too, his eyes closing for some unknown (but perhaps not hard to guess) orgasmic fantasy, his balls emptying salty stingy cum deep into Brittney’s bowels, flooding her with his version of a “highly commended” drama award. And once his jerks subside, his eyes open with a friendly smile, his all-professional voice back for now.

“Hey, why don’t you and Lucy come have dinner at my house tomorrow?” he asks. “Dress nice, and we’ll introduce the kids”, and she just giggles rather deliriously, sucking the tip of her thumb once again between her bright white teeth. “mmm, we’d love to… thankies dada” she coos, marveling at her luck as she relaxes against the “double king” bed, blissfully entwined with a Man she Plans to Keep!

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