("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: pete2.txt (Mf, voy, ped, inc) Authors name: GM (gm@mrdouble.com) Story title : Pete and Cindy - 2 -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Pete and Cindy - 2 by GM (gm@mrdouble.com) *** Pete wanted her. He could already feel his lips closing around her jutting red nipples, sucking and gnawing until she moaned in ecstasy. Oh yes, he'd make her moan. (Mf, voy, ped, inc) *** The following story depicts explicit sexual contact between adult and under aged participants. Those offended by graphic descriptions of pedophilic/incestuous relationships should read no further. This is entirely a work of fantasy, and does not advocate the abuse of minors in any way, shape or form. All characters and events represented herein are completely fictional. *** PETE and CINDY PART TWO 3. As Peter expected, Cindy's Mom was rushing about in a dither by the time they arrived home. Her shift began in less than fifteen minutes, and she'd barely finished blow-drying her hair when they walked in. Julie Connors had been this way as long as Pete had known her; like many highly organized professionals, her personal life was an unqualified shambles. She darted into the main hallway, hurriedly tucking her blouse into her loose blue Levis, raising a miniature tornado in her wake. She was a tall, slim thirty- something with dark brown eyes and the face of an errant pixie. She paused just long enough to bend down and kiss Cindy on the cheek. "Hey, Baby. Have a good day at school?" she asked without listening for an answer. She was ferreting around for her shoulder bag, which she was certain she'd left on the coffee table. Or on the sofa. Or maybe out in the kitchen. Cindy managed to fire off a few words edgewise before her mother vanished into the living room. Pete hung his backpack over a wall hook and ushered the girl through the doorway, keeping his face carefully neutral. His Aunt probably wouldn't notice anything unusual, but he wasn't about to take any risks. Cindy stood next to him, unconsciously kneading the hem of her dress, listening to her mother's rapid-fire banter. "I'm sorry, I didn't have time to cook a meal tonight," Julie prattled, clipping on a pair of gold ear-rings, "so I've put a couple of those frozen casseroles in the microwave. Just set the timer to seven and push the button." Pete nodded his assent, grateful for the general chaos that seemed to surround Julie's existence. She'd be out of here in five minutes, and he'd have the place to himself for at least the next nine hours. "What time are you coming home?" he asked, just to make certain. "Probably around six tomorrow morning," she replied distractedly, "unless we decide to hit McDonald's for breakfast." Casting around distractedly, she clocked over to the coffee table in her impossibly tall high- heels, reaching down for her shoulder-bag. For once, it was exactly where she remembered leaving it. "There any desert, Mommy?" Cindy chipped in, never one to overlook the most important meal of the day. She'd long since grown accustomed to her mother's nightly absences, and knew precisely the right questions to ask as she was on her way out. "Yeah, there's some Sarah Lea in the fridge, Sweet- heart," Julie said, then straightened up, looping the bag over one arm. "chocolate mudcake, I think. Pull it out of the freezer now, it'll be ready by the time you finish dinner." She checked her watch, then glanced across at her nephew with an oddly quizzical expression. Pete knew that look, he'd seen it practically every week over the past three years. She was about to make some kind of request. "Pete, could you do me a favor?" she asked, immediately confirming his hunch. "Yeah, sure," he answered without hesitation. "I'm running a bit short on time here," she said, rifling through the bag, "do you think you could you run a bath for Cindy?" Cindy giggled, eyes widening with surprise. She put a hand to her mouth to hide an embarrassed smile; a fine carmine tint began to creep into her cheeks. Showing off her underwear had been (mostly) innocent fun, but this was completely different. The thought of actually taking all her clothes off in front of her cousin set her heart galloping like a race horse. A swarm of butterflies started cartwheeling in her belly. (petey's going to see me NAKED) "Well sure," Peter agreed, disguising his astonishment behind a shrug of indifference, then added, as if in afterthought: "I mean, if Cindy doesn't mind ..." "Of course she doesn't mind," Julie interrupted, a little impatiently, "you're like a brother to her. See, she's laughing." It was true, the little girl was sniggering behind both hands now, blue eyes dancing with a kind of mischievous joy. Peter glanced down at her, unable to believe his good fortune. This was literally the last thing he'd been expecting. A vast wave of elation washed over him, almost boiling the blood in his veins. It was almost too good to be true. Julie had all but given him carte-blanche to take her upstairs and - "Anyway, I have to get moving," Julia said, pulling the car-keys out of her bag and stepping into the hallway. It was ten to the hour, she'd have to drive like the devil to make her shift. Cindy followed her mother to the front door, chortling farewells and bobbing up and down like the Easter Bunny. Pete brought up the rear, slowing his stride to conceal his impatience. He wanted his aunt gone, out of the way. His eyes crawled over Cindy's pert young fanny, imagining how it would feel cupped between his palms. He could hear the skirt swishing against her panties as she moved. The sound was driving him crazy. Opening the door, Julie paused to kiss her daughter. "Bye-bye, Sweet-heart, see you tomorrow morning," she said, touching her mouth to the child's lips, "you be good for Peter. And no later than eight-thirty, right?" Cindy accepted her curfew without complaint, knowing she'd be up until ten at the very least. Julie lifted her eyes towards her nephew. "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Peter. I really appreciate it." Pete opened his mouth to dismiss her words with an airy wave of his hand (hey, no problem, anytime, don't mention it), but she was already turning away. A gust of wind blew into the corridor as the door clicked shut. Footsteps were heard clopping down the front steps, fading into the early evening. Keys jingled, an engine roared, a car pulled out from the drive way. And then she was gone. Peter looked down at the little girl, that razor-thin smile touching his features once more. Time to play. 4. "OK, climb out of that frock, Honey-girl." Blushing to the hairline, Cindy began unbuttoning the front of her dress. Moist, fluid heat seemed to swirl though her belly, her complexion darkened to a deep, feverish red. She simply couldn't believe this was happening: Petey was running a hot bath, and she was getting undressed. She had to take everything off, right in front of him. In a few seconds, she'd be standing completely nude with her clothes strewn carelessly around her feet. The words ran through her mind with a kind of frenzied urgency: (petey's going to see me naked, petey's going to see me naked, petey's going to see me NAKED!!) Clouds of vapor drifted up from the tub, filling the bathroom with a fine white mist. Peter was leaning over the faucets, staring into the water while he fine tuned the temperature. Cindy felt an odd pang of disappointment. He hardly seemed to be paying attention to her at all. She opened the frilly bodice of her sundress, exposing a delicious sweep of alabaster torso. Her nipples were standing up in exclamation points. It was funny; sometimes when it was cold, they grew so big and hard she couldn't bear to touch them. They felt that way now, except she wasn't cold at all; not with all the steam whirling up from the bath tub. Just at that second, Petey turned his head and looked across at her. A rash of gooseflesh played along her tummy, all the way to her upper thighs. She dropped her gaze with a coy smile, wild strawberries standing out on her cheeks. He'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye for the last five minutes, waiting for her to take off the dress. Her mind swam with a heady cocktail of reluctant pleasure; huge waves of delight seemed to cascade through her system: (he WANTS to see me naked!) Sliding the sleeves off her shoulders, Cindy lowered the frock towards the floor. The thin red fabric glided down her midriff, murmuring against her smooth flesh. The breath caught in the back of her throat. A moment later, she was standing up in her pretty little panties, bath-mist whickering around her bare legs. A bright carmine flush had covered her entire midsection, from the dip of her throat to the thimble of her belly button. Her nipples had begun to throb. She stared up at her cousin, gapingly aware of how little she was wearing. Peter was sitting on the edge of the bath, idly testing the water with his right hand. He was watching her with that same gilt-edged smile he'd worn all afternoon, regarding her like she was some rare, succulent morsel. She couldn't have put it in such complex terms, but that was precisely how she felt - as if Pete was going to eat her alive. The image both frightened and excited her. "Over here, Honey girl," he beckoned. Pulse slamming into overdrive, Cindy padded over to the bathtub, her toes leaving prints on the slick blue tiles. She halted before him, unable to meet his gaze for more than a second. Her fingers skittered over her pristine white underpants, playing with the elastic trim. She felt a delicious tingling sensation between her thighs, as if someone was tickling her down there. Her tummy strummed and clenched with expectation. This was so terribly, terribly naughty - much naughtier than the handstands in the Domain. Leaning forward, Pete hooked his fingers through the lacy frill of her waistband. "Panties down, Kitten." Stretching the elastic with his fingertips, Peter slipped her pants down over her hips. Cindy gasped, suppressing a nervous giggle. Her pudgy little girl- spot popped into view - softly pouting lips folded around a pink, dimpled cleft. A brief, flaring contact: Cindy's hands twitched, but she made no move to cover herself. She was close to fainting with arousal; Peter's eyes were gliding all over her nubile young form as he slid her panties down to the floor. Literally everything she had was on open exhibition, everything! (I'm naked) She stepped out of her underwear, looking down at herself in naive curiosity. Like most little girls, Cindy was fascinated by the sight of her own body; its frail beauty; its flawless, feminine perfection. Her hair was a sumptuous blond waterfall spilling over her shoulders, her waist surprisingly slim for one so young. She moved with an unconscious grace, an innate sensuality unique to girls her age. She ran her hands over her sleekly contoured torso, mesmerized by the crystal texture of her skin. (I'm naked. I'm naked) She'd never been this undressed in front of any man. She couldn't remember her father, and there were no other males in her immediate family. Peter was the closest thing she'd ever had to a brother (or a Daddy, for that matter), and here she was, standing nude and vulnerable and utterly helpless before him. She looked shyly up at her cousin, large eyes filled with love and trust and the unquestioning devotion of a child. 5. Peter roamed his vision over Cindy's naked body, drinking in her thighs, her nipples, her tiny pink labia. His breathing shallowed, his pupils dilated, a fine layer of cold sweat coated his neckline. He was almost delirious with lust: peeling Cindy's panties down had sent his overloaded libido into melt down. When his fingers had skimmed over her plump little vulva, he'd virtually imploded with yearning. He could barely restrain himself even now. Shaking inside his skin, he rolled his tongue over his teeth, eyes circling back to her tightly pursed clip. It looked so tender, so delicate, so . He wanted her. He wanted her now, this instant. He could already feel his lips closing around her jutting red nipples, sucking and gnawing until she moaned in ecstasy. Oh yes, he'd make her moan. He'd be as gentle as possible, she was only a little girl after all; but she'd gasp and writhe and shudder in his arms. Maybe she'd even weep and plead for mercy ("no, Petey, no, please stop, it hurts"), but he was going to have her, all the same. He was going to satisfy himself in her frail, yielding girl-flesh. And when he'd finished stroking and sucking and groping and squeezing, he'd splay her thighs and - He'd have to be careful. He couldn't allow himself to leave marks or bruises. He couldn't get too rough with her, no matter how much she stoked his fire. As he said before, it was all a question of control. He had to reign himself in: she was a child - a rather fragile one, at that - and he couldn't afford to harm her. A scrape, a scratch, a single drop of blood, and the game would be over. Forever. Her mother would guess the truth. She'd never forgive him, never trust him again. And he'd never be able to touch her again. Control. Peter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand (a gesture he'd learned from his father, years ago), giving himself a moment's breathing space. There had to be an answer, some resolution to the paradox. Patience was the key to the puzzle. The same quiet perseverance he'd shown over the past three years. He could still have her - there was absolutely no question of that - but first, she had to be warm, relaxed and comfortable. Not drowsy, the way she was when they stretched out together on the sofa. He didn't want her nodding off to sleep tonight. No, he wanted her wide awake, lively, frisky . playful. He smiled down on the small, naked girl, relishing the spectacle of her exquisitely molded form. It would take all his strength, but he had to postpone the celebrations for a few minutes longer. He'd waited three years to immerse himself in the lush delights of her body, he could wait another half an hour. Then she'd be his for the rest of the evening. He'd carry her, clean and fresh and giggling into her bedroom, her long golden hair smelling of wild green apples. He'd lay her gently on the pink satin quilt, her nude, damp torso open to his caresses. He'd touch his mouth to her swollen, crimson nipples . and the games would begin. The tub was nearly full. Peter twisted the faucets and looked back at his cousin "OK, Kitten," he said, reaching down take her under the arms, "let's get you clean." TO BE CONTINUED EMAIL ME FOR PART 3: AFTER THE BATH gm@mrdouble.com *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 27