Papergirl

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Lone husband offers neighbor girl dessert; gets virginity.
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Archer2050
Archer2050
2,133 Followers

Since getting married, Thanksgiving has always been a paradox for me. My wife's family, consisting of her sister and dad, meet at her sister's place in Las Vegas, which is a pretty nice place to be when the alternative is staying home in the snow and ice of the Midwest. However, it means I have to fly to get there every year, which doesn't bode well with my phobia.

Once there, even though my wife Molly and I have our own guestroom at her sister, Marie's, house, the sex is practically non-existent during this vacation. But when we do have it, it's usually very, very good. Some of my best times with Molly have been in her sister's house.

At first I thought Molly was uncomfortable having sex with her family in the same house, which I could understand, but that didn't explain why she would occasionally go wild, a few times when her dad and sister were still awake watching TV or something in the next room. I have also suspected that Molly cheats on me when we come here, which might explain her disinterest in sex, and possibly why she can get so horny at the same time. The problem with that theory is that she's always got a good alibi, because she goes everywhere with her sister if she's not with me, and Marie and I get along so well it's hard for me to believe she would cover for my wife's infidelity.

So things can be pretty frustrating over Thanksgiving for me. We're in Vegas, the sin capital of America, and all the eye candy on the Strip raises my temperature when I have no way to release it. Or at least I didn't at first. I've found, with Molly spending so much time with her sister on these trips, that I have ample opportunity to find other ways to satisfy myself. Over the years, a couple times I've gone to a strip club and gave a dancer an extra big tip for a quick little meeting after her shift. Another time I met a woman at a club and went back to her room for a quick blow job, fuck, and a little taste of pussy.

This year I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but with scheduling problems and airport delays and such, this was a particularly bad year. I hadn't made love to my wife--or anyone else--for almost two weeks. Besides that, Marie's 28 year old housemate Tanya hadn't gone home to her family this year, and so she stayed with us, meaning there was a very sexy woman just a year younger than me in the house, giving me that much more to look at and get worked up over.

It was Black Friday, and of course the girls had all gone out well before the crack of dawn to get in line for the door buster deals. Marie wanted to get a big, ultra cheap LCD TV, my wife was after God knows what, and I think Tanya and my wife's dad, Bob, just went for the experience of it. I, on the other hand, saw this as possibly my only opportunity to really be alone, so I stayed home.

It was still dark out when I heard a series of claps, rusty screeches, or sudden plops coming from outside. Each sound was separated by about 15 or thirty seconds. I was already awake and though I didn't even know what time it was, I had just given up trying to sleep again. The need between my legs was too much. I knew my window of opportunity was open for most of the day, but I still had to plan out what I was going to do. As the plopping and other sounds grew closer, I got up to investigate.

I had just come out of the bedroom when I realized what those sounds were. The ad-stuffed newspaper was being delivered. Papers were being dropped onto doorsteps, and shoved into mailboxes. Judging by the most recent sound, Marie's house was next. Wearing sweatpants but no shirt, I went over to the door to take the paper as it came.

When I opened the door she was there, holding two back-breaking bags of newspapers which were now only a third full. Blonde with curls, a tiny body and a preciously adorable face, the papergirl's deep brown eyes hit me like a brick wall. One moment of eye contact and I knew that she was exactly what I wanted. For a girl who looked so young and innocent, those eyes managed to flash an intensity that made even me tremble.

Now I may be a bastard, but I wasn't about to hit on an underage girl. On my previous visits, I had briefly seen or met Marie's papergirl, Melissa. I always thought Melissa was cute, and that she would grow into a hottie that men would have an impossible time trying to get out of their heads. Hell, it'd been a year since I'd had a glance of the girl, and I still remembered exactly what she looked like. This sweet little thing in front of me was just as I remembered, except Melissa was even smaller than this under-five-foot, less than 90 pounds girl before me.

"Oh, hi," she said, looking confused to see me--a man--in a house lived in by two women. Her eyes wandered over my bare chest, but quickly looked away again in embarrassment.

She didn't recognize me. And that, of course, was because this wasn't Melissa. This girl looked very much like her, but there were enough subtle differences for me to know. And from peering at the roots in the porch light, I could tell this girl's hair was naturally blonde, not dyed from the curly black mane Melissa had. Though I had never seen this girl before now, I knew who she had to be: Ariel, Melissa's older sister, who I had heard Marie say sometimes covered for Melissa on the paper route when the girl was feeling ill or had something else to do.

I had to say something, anything, to stall this girl while I figured out what I really wanted to say.

"Not much of a vacation for you," I said, holding the door open, "if you're up this early."

"You either," she giggled, and the sound put butterflies in my stomach. "Did you just move here, or..."

"No, I'm just visiting. Marie still lives here."

"Oh. Probably out shopping huh?"

"Yeah." Realizing I was making dull conversation while this poor little thing still held her heavy bags of undelivered papers, I stepped out and offered my hand. She put her bags down and shook it. "I'm Ryan," I said.

"I'm...Melissa," she replied with a smile that melted my heart.

That did take me back, and I had to think to reassure myself that I had been right about my memories. No, I was right. This girl was lying.

"Melissa? That's a pretty name. Those are also some pretty big bags to be carrying all over. Especially for someone...what are you, in sixth grade?"

Anyone with a brain would've guessed at least high school age, but my faked ignorance worked like a charm. The girl giggled and even blushed.

"Sixth grade," she said, laughing but exasperated. "I'm...I'm 16. What are you? Forty?"

It was a joke, and I took it as one. "Oh, that hurts," I teased. "I was going to offer some leftover dessert and give you a break, but now I'm not so sure."

The girl was definitely lying. Not only did she not look like Melissa, but I distinctly remember hearing my wife's sister say once that Melissa had recently turned seventeen ...and that was at Thanksgiving last year. This meant, as Melissa's older sister, Ariel was at least 18. Probably 19. Still, I played along like I didn't have a clue.

"Oh," she cooed after my un-invite for the dessert. "I'm sorry. What kind of dessert?"

I smiled when she took the bait. "We have a little bit of everything. You want to come in and pick something out?"

Ariel had been flirtatious with me at first, but the honest invite seemed to be more than she expected. Her face turned serious but no less excited, and she nervously looked around, first at her bags of newspapers, then to the dark houses out across the street.

"I don't know," she said seriously, and she bent to pick up her bags. "I have to finish my route."

From her tone I could tell she wasn't playing hard to get. I had no idea what she was imaging I was going to do or say or expect if she came inside, but the girl seemed genuinely afraid to accept my invite. She could flirt, but even the thought of doing something as mundane as sharing some pie alone with a stranger frightened her. I respected her uncertainty, but I also wanted her to know she could be comfortable. I knew what I wanted, and she might have guessed what I wanted, but it didn't have to happen. The invitation could have been as innocent as she obviously was.

"Come on," I said soothingly, and reached out, offering to take one of her bags. "The people out here are either sleeping on their day off or they've already gone out to get in line at the mall. They can wait for their papers for a few more minutes."

She stopped, frozen like a deer in headlights. I could almost read her mind as she considered what I was really after, and whether or not she would give it to me. I knew that part of her very much hoped that she would come in and get nothing more than a piece of pie. But there was also a part of her that wanted to dare to ask for more.

"You don't have to stay for a meal," I said. "Just take as much as you want." I hoped she understood that I was telling her more than my words were saying.

She hesitated for moment longer, then flashed me a smile and handed one of the bags to me. I welcomed her into the house and she thanked me. My heart pounded, but I was too nervous for my dick to do anything but tingle with guarded anticipation. We set her bags down next to the door and closed it, alone together in the house.

I told her to take a seat in the living room and then asked if she wanted anything to drink. She asked for water, and as I went to the kitchen to get it, I told her she could take off her jacket. When I came back, the jacket was off, but otherwise she hadn't relaxed at all. She sat on the edge of the sofa cushion, her back straight and her body rigid. Her face made her look uncomfortable, and when she thanked me for the water, her voice cracked.

Sitting in a recliner opposite her, we made some small talk, and I hoped this would relax her a little. I also hoped that by me not mentioning dessert again, she would get the idea of what I was really after. That way she could make up her mind if she wanted to take part, or if this was too much for her.

"You're...how old did you say?"

"Um...I'm 16," she lied again. She watched my eyes as she said it, looking for a response, but I gave her nothing.

"16, huh? That young and already dedicated to a job. That's very grown up. And you look very grown up, too," I said. "For a 16 year old."

And she did. Though small in stature, anyone who looked at Ariel's face would know she was at least a couple years older than she was claiming to be. Though her chest was small, it was fully developed, and despite the recent "growing up" so many 16 years olds went through these days by wearing more adult clothing and make-up, Ariel's outfit and the way she had her hair and make-up was too mature for a 16 year old. These clues were subtle, but undeniable. I couldn't figure out why she was playing this game, but I wanted to play along.

"People always tell me that," she said nervously.

"Oh yeah? What else do you do that's grown up?"

Asking this proved to be too much, and instead of answering, Ariel's hands started to shake, and she was almost spilling the glass of water she held. I moved to the couch beside her and gently took the glass away, setting it on the coffee table. I put a hand on her tiny back.

"Are you cold, Ariel?" I asked, purposely using her real name.

She shrugged, refusing to make eye contact, though she smiled. I could tell from this response that my test had worked. She hadn't caught that I'd used her real name. If this had been Melissa, she would've been alerted to me calling her something else, but in her nervousness, Ariel had forgotten her charade.

We sat together in the dark and the silence for a while. I gently rubbed her back, and eventually her eyes wandered to my naked chest. She placed a hand on my knee. I watched her hand for a long time, trying to will her to explore as I knew she wanted to. Finally she did, slowly reaching up and touching my chest, her finger grazing my nipple.

When I didn't pull away or even say anything, her confidence grew and soon Ariel was very tentatively exploring my upper chest. Her fingers were warm, but shaking. Her eyes watched her hand without blinking. I grew hard slowly, which was great because any sudden movements would have likely scared her right out the door.

Ariel might not have been 16, but she was definitely a virgin. I guessed that was why she'd lied about her age; a stranger would've stopped flirting with a 16 year old, and since she was so nervous about sex, that was her way of getting out of it. But apparently when I persisted, I had emboldened this girl to at least contemplate going further.

I gave her a few more minutes to get comfortable before opening my mouth.

"Do you like how I feel?" I asked her softly.

She nodded.

"Do you ever like feeling yourself?"

Hesitation, then another brief nod. I swallowed hard, because I was about to make this very real.

"Do you want to show me?"

She gave me silence, but her eyes left my chest and she stared at the floor several long seconds. Then she finally leaned back into the sofa and fumbled at the button of her pants. Her hands were shaking so much that she couldn't do it, so I reached over and helped. We unfastened the button together, and then I pulled down her zipper before taking my hand back away.

She looked at me just enough to make sure that I was watching, but not enough to make eye contact. Then Ariel slid her hand down her pants, over her panties and between her legs. She rubbed herself this way a few times, then slipped her fingers under her panties and began to slowly agitate herself. I could tell from watching her movements beneath her blue panties that she was giving herself a mix of rubbing her lips and clit, but had not yet entered herself.

It had been so quiet before, but now I could hear her breathing slowly grow heavier. She suddenly tensed up a few times when she found the good spot, and I found it hard to just sit there and watch, but that's exactly what a did. A girl this jumpy needed to be handled delicately. When she finally began fingering herself, she opened her little mouth to let out silent, restrained sighs. Below, I could hear her wet skin gush as she frigged herself at a slow but steadily increasing pace. I looked at her cute, wet tongue and desperately wanted to taste it.

Slowly so she would see me coming, I moved in and kissed her on the mouth. I offered her my big tongue and she accepted it, letting me explore her but too nervous to yet explore me. I stroked her tongue with my own, trying to coax her into putting it in my mouth, and eventually she did, and we were at last kissing, slow but deep. She took her hand out of her panties and gently put if on my shoulder, neither bringing me closer nor pushing me away. Just feeling me. One of her fingers was noticeably wet.

"Was that okay?" I asked.

Her breathing still soft but erratic, she made a half move like she was going to kiss me again rather than answer, but thought better of it and just nodded. She was also looking into my eyes for the first time in a while, and she didn't take them away. Her gaze burned into me.

"You stopped touching yourself," I said.

"I'm sorry," she replied, and she moved her hand back to her crotch.

"No, its okay," I said, gently taking her hand, putting it to my lips and kissing her wet finger. She tasted better than any dessert I'd ever had. "Do you want me to help you?"

She nodded. I took her delicate hand in mine and guided her back down under her panties. I had her run her fingers over her wet pussy lips, then even helped her penetrate herself. My finger, with her finger beneath it, sunk into her tiny, moist cunt, and we slowly fingered her together. But my finger, of course, was much bigger, and being foreign to her likely felt much better, so Ariel slid her hand away so it was only me inside of her. I cupped her pussy as I continued to fuck her with my middle finger. She was so tight that I wondered, when it came time, if my cock would even get all the way in before it exploded with cum.

Ariel was breathing heavier than ever now, and though I wanted to hear her moan, I also wanted her to last. If she came by my hand, as awesome as that would be, so much energy would've been wasted. I pulled out of her and offered her my finger. She knew exactly what to do and sucked on it, tasting herself.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

She nodded as she continued sucking my finger. I pulled it away shortly after, then we kissed again. She placed her hand on my thigh, near my crotch, but not close enough to touch it.

"Have you ever seen a...man...before?" I asked, my eyes moving down to my crotch to indicate what I meant by "man".

She nodded, which surprised me, but then she caught herself. "But not really," she said softly. "Not for real. Just pictures...and toys..."

"Toys? You mean dildos? You play with dildos?"

"A couple times," she nodded with a sheepish grin.

"Do you want to see the real thing?"

Ariel stared at my crotch and nodded. From the bulge, she could certainly tell I was hard under there, and it pulsed when she motioned that she wanted to see it.

"You can take it out," I told her.

Ariel took a deep breath, then ran her hand down my abs and finally under the waistband of my pants. Her fingers made contact with my erection immediately. I felt her warm little hand grasp me and then pull me out into view. I was so big, and her hand was so small that she couldn't even fit her fingers all the way around me. I throbbed, and almost came when I saw her looking at it with a bewildered stare.

"It's...big..." she said in awe.

"Do you want to lick it?"

As soon as she nodded, I grabbed my sweatpants and pulled them off completely. I was getting way too excited. This was really going to happen!

Once I was naked, little Ariel leaned over me and hovered above my cock for a moment, breathing on the tip and driving me crazy before finally licking me. Confirming that this is what she wanted after the first taste, her subsequent licks came faster and longer, and soon she was licking me all over my raging shaft. I was so hot and sensitive that each of her touches felt like licks of flames rather than of her tongue. My body was stiff and shuddering uncontrollably. I gritted my teeth, groaning and swearing and gasping.

"I want to suck it," Ariel said in her sweet young voice. She wasn't demanding, but rather asking permission.

"Please suck it," I replied, closing my eyes and rolling my head back.

I felt her lips close around the tip of my cock, and she sucked me timidly, occasionally scraping me with her teeth and unsure of how to quite move her tongue, but I wouldn't have traded her little mouth for the best cock sucker on Earth. Her technique wasn't professional, but it was unique, spelling out her inexperience and her desire to please, and it made me infinitely hotter for her than I had been thus far.

"Oh my God," I panted. "Oh fuck...oh fuck that is so good. Don't stop...please don't stop, baby...Oh my God..."

She didn't stroke me as she sucked, so all of my sensations were received at my tip, where she nibbled at me with her lips and tongue. It was peculiar, but I knew the next time my wife blew me, I would be directing her to replicate it. I felt like I could cum at any second, and despite all the other things I wanted to do with little Ariel, I seriously considered letting myself go right then.

Fortunately, Ariel interrupted my bliss. "How am I doing?" she asked, as if my constant swearing wasn't enough of an indication.

"Oh God, baby," I gasped. "That was amazing. I would give anything for you to do that to me again..."

And so she did...for an unbelievable ten minutes. I laid back on the couch and she moved in between my legs, nibbling on and licking my cock head slowly but steadily. She tongued and teased my little hole there, and occasionally gnawed on me ever so slightly with her teeth. Her saliva seeped past her lips and streamed down my shaft and even to my balls. It took all of my concentration not to cum, and all of my will power to convince myself that I did indeed want to hold back.

Archer2050
Archer2050
2,133 Followers
12