Posted by taboolover on April 16, 2002 at 23:13:32:
From: Frank McCoy (mccoyf@millcomm.com)
Subject: The Donut Shop (Mff, cons, very-pedo) Part 1
Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest, alt.sex.stories.incest, alt.sex.stories, alt.stories.incest
pl
The Donut Shop
An Erotic Story
I can't mention the name of the Donut Shop, for "trademark"
reasons; and the fact that the owners of the chain might object
to my using their name in a story like this. Suffice to say that
it's a national chain; and the most noticeable feature of their
sign is pink. For now, I'll just call it the Donut Shop.
Besides, I don't want to suggest that the owners of the chain
would ever endorse such activities going on in one of their
stores (restaurants?). I'm also not mentioning the town this
happened in, or even the town I live in, other than it's
somewhere in the Midwest, and the store was about a block south
of the freeway. Besides, the store burned down about a year ago,
and there's no sign that it's ever going to be rebuilt . . . at
least not as a Donut Shop anyway; though I always keep hoping.
My wife and I used to stop in the store regularly when going
shopping; before they built the new mall closer, and all the big
chain stores started up nearby. Back then we'd go shopping, and
stop in on the way down (or the way back) and have a donut and
coffee. Sometimes we'd pick up extra coffee-beans from the
store, as they have the best coffee anywhere (or did, anyway).
This time I was driving alone, when I decided to stop in and
get a hot cup, and pick up a big box of donut-holes for the guys
down at work. I often do this when I stop in the Donut Shop,
when the next day is a workday, and I feel like building up some
moral, or making a few extra points . . . or just because I feel
like it. I like donut holes myself during break; and they don't
cost that much more to pick up a whole box, than just a few.
I like to savor my coffee, not rush it (cream, and 4 slips
of sugar), so I did my usual "look around" at the scenery.
Scenery . . . you know . . . pretty things, like cute kids,
pretty women, and sexy young girls who've just learned to flaunt
what they have. As I've told my wife, "If I stop looking, you
might as well shoot me, because I'll be dead . . . I just won't
know it." It's mostly pretty girls that get me, though cute kids
and really handsome guys might draw a second look.
Only there always seem to be so many more good looking girls
than men. Still, cute kids and sexy young girls draw most of my
attention. Babies too. Even so, I try NOT to be obtrusive about
my looking. Some girls don't like strange men staring at their
bodies; while others glory in it . . . you could usually tell
which type a girl was, by what type of clothes she was
wearing . . . but not always. Sometimes a girl just dressed sexy
for ONE guy alone.
I had barely seated myself, before I started looking . . .
casually, over the newspaper, to not offend the more sensitive
types. I'm a creampuff . . . I don't even like to hurt people's
feelings; let alone physically. As a rapist I'd be a complete
dud; as the mere thought I might be hurting somebody makes my
prick wilt like a marshmallow in a campfire.
1
Still, quite often sexy girls DID like to be looked at . . .
even enjoying the gaze of 50+ men like me . . . as long as I
didn't make any funny passes, anyway. Occasionally, I would even
get a smile in return; as some sexy young thing basked in my
gaze. But that was as far as it ever went; as I wasn't about to
even try to seduce any of these young angels. I knew better.
Kids and babies however, were fair game for making friends.
I love kids . . . I always have. I loved having a child and
raising it until my wife and I were suddenly all alone
again . . . hoping for grandchildren. In the meantime, nobody
ever objected to your telling them they had a beautiful baby and
admiring it . . . even if you couldn't touch. Still, too see a
baby or toddler grin back at you when you smiled, is always
enough to warm the day, no matter how miserable it had been
otherwise.
Kids (here I mean about three to twelve year olds) on the
other hand, are the main joy in my life. While a sexy young
woman or girl smiling at me gives me an instant hard-on, and the
thought of what I would like to do with one of those cute little
sexpots has given me many wet dreams; it's all fantasy.
Children, on the other hand, can give me almost as much pleasure
just by being around me. If the kids deign to include me in
their games . . . well I'd rather have fun with a bunch of kids
who like me, than sex. Honest.
No, my wife is NOT a "cold fish" who only gives me sex once
a month. After over 30 years together, we still have wonderful
sex; and I probably get more sex from her NOW, than I did when we
first got married, believe it or not. That just goes to show
what loving can do for a relationship, if you work at it. No,
it's just that I LOVE kids. I love to be around them. I love to
hear them giggle. I love to watch them. I like to help them
when I can, and watch them learn without my help when they don't
need it. And no, except for a few wet dreams I don't have
control over, I never really thought of having sex with them.
And if I HAD daydreamed about sex with children of any age, it
would have been the older girls . . . in the range of ten to
fourteen, where they're still children, but have reached puberty
enough to enjoy sex and yes . . . even get pregnant. Getting a
woman or even a girl pregnant excites me (I TOLD you I liked
babies). Lately I had been using the computer to download sexy
stories about pregnancy and kids . . . which had led me to some
unbelievably erotic stories about women and girls, and even young
kids who not only liked sex, but liked the idea of getting
pregnant as well.
As I said, almost unbelievable stories . . . but sexy as
heck. I found it hard to believe that girls as young as those in
the stories were even interested in sex; so some of the stories
were a little hard to buy. However, it DID wake me up to the
possibility; which I might have missed otherwise.
I had barely sat down, when I noticed two of the cutest
little girls I had seen in many a long year, sitting in the booth
right across from me. My grin at the two beautiful brunettes was
returned with interest; and the older poked their mother in the
ribs, just in time to catch my smile at her two exuberant
offspring.
2
"Three and Seven?" I hazarded a guess.
The woman, while not as puppy-friendly as her two kids, did
NOT give me the cold stare; but instead returned a warm smile and
replied, "No. Four and six."
I found it hard to believe that the older girl was that
young; as the short black little micro-mini the girl wore didn't
even reach to the bottom of her tight little panties! Oh it
wasn't blatantly obvious; because the panties and the short
little skirt were a matching black velvet material that blended
together. It was only if you were looking carefully that you
could see the indent the child's cunny made in the material . . .
even when she stood up.
Hurriedly I switched my eyes to the younger girl, before the
child's mother realized where I was staring. This it seems, was
even worse. The 4-year-old had a matching outfit to her older
sister; and I swear the child's skirt was cut almost a half-inch
shorter! It was less obvious on the smaller girl, in spite of
this. I was sweating, as I raised my eyes to the grinning face
of the older woman. (Woman? The "woman" must have been barely
legal herself; possibly 19 at the oldest; and possibly as young
as 16 . . . impossible with a 6 year old child though.)
"I think Mr . . . ?" started the woman. (What else can I
call her, with two children like that?)
"Charlie," I said; holding out my hand, "Charlie Mansfield.
Just call me Charlie." I don't know WHAT possessed me to lie
about my name, for the first time in . . . you know . . . I don't
think I've EVER lied before about who I am. Even on the computer
I use my real name, instead of some fake alias.
"I think Charlie here likes your outfits," she said.
"Really?" said the younger girl; holding her hands high
above her head and twirling so I got not just a flash of panty,
but full exposure clear up to the soft white skin above it.
Sadly the skirt flopped down before I saw the child's navel (I
have a thing about navels).
I could barely nod; my grin being frozen at the thought of
what other people (especially her mother) might think of me
staring at her little girl's charms like that.
"Mine too?" asked the older girl; holding HER arms up and
executing a pirouette gracefully. This time I DID get a glimpse
of little-girl-navel before the short little skirt flapped back
down. Oh God.
For the second time in my life, I found myself with a hard-
on caused by a little girl. (The first time was when my
grandniece sat on my lap and kissed me . . . I don't think the
little girl ever did know how happy she made her horny uncle that
day. And I would never tell her.)
I couldn't have taken my eyes off her when she did that, if
I had a gun pointed at my head. Once again I nodded carefully
before raising my eyes to the girl's mother; apologies ready to
burst from my lips if she looked the slightest bit offended. All
I got was an even bigger grin.
3
I looked guiltily around; wondering who else was observing
this show. Nobody. Even the clerk had vanished into the other
room, where thumping sounds and the delicious smell of rising
yeast indicated he was probably involved in making yet another
batch of donuts; and wouldn't be out unless the door chime went
off, or we called for him. Outside I knew that nobody could see
inside clearly through the blinds; while we could see any car
pull up for minutes before anybody would come inside. The
display it seems, was for me alone.
"Girls," said the woman, "Uncle Charlie seems to like your
outfits . . . why don't you let him look at them closer up?"
I had barely gotten over my "upgrade" to "Uncle" when the
next thing I knew, two giggling little girls had joined me in the
(now) crowded little booth, where I was almost forced to grab
hold of them in self-defense. I almost died of heart failure
right then! The feel of smooth soft little-girl flesh against my
hand, as my left hand almost involuntarily slid under the 6-year-
old's tiny little skirt, and around her waist, was almost too
incredibly erotic to believe! Up to now, my sexy dreams had
always been of WOMEN . . . well, OK, girls, starting at about 23
or so, up to about 30. From now on however, I knew any wet
dreams I had would always have a chance of having tiny little
girls with tight little slits and smooth tummies, as well as
mature women with bouncing beautiful breasts, gorgeous asses, and
legs . . . .
Thinking of legs! I almost yanked my hand as if it was
burned from between the bare legs of the younger girl who was
sitting beside me; watching her older sister showing off the
outfit her mother had made.
"See, I don't have much in breasts yet, though I'm getting
some," said the little girl apologetically, while pulling the
short top out to demonstrate, "so Momma put some padding in here
to help."
While her older sister pulled out the front of the blouse;
actually unbuttoning two buttons to show me the inside and her
bare chest with just the tiniest hint of swelling, the younger
girl had taken my other hand and placed it firmly back between
her legs . . . only higher this time; so the heel of my palm was
almost pressed into the velvet of her panties . . . almost.
I couldn't help myself. To the girl's obvious
disappointment, I took that same hand and pulled it out again,
before sliding it in again about a half-inch higher. THIS time
the heel of my hand was pressed firmly into the warm damp crease
of the child's sex; where I started rubbing up and down; the
whole time paying close attention to the other girl, whose body
hid what was happening to her little sister from their mother.
"The skirt can fasten down here," explained the girl;
showing me a Velcro strip matching a similar one on the panties.
"Or we can let them ride up . . . If we like the look of the
guy." I couldn't believe it. These two little preschoolers were
actually trying to seduce me! (And succeeding quite well, I
might add.)
4
I had to ask. "What if you REALLY like the guy?" I asked;
looking pointedly down at the short little skirt. By now, I
almost ignored the girls' mother; figuring rightly that if she
had anything to say, or any objections to what I was doing, she'd
let me know.
"Then we can either take the skirt or the panties completely
off," said the younger girl. "Momma won't let us take both off
though . . . at least not out here."
"We have to keep the skirts WAY down when we take the
panties off though," added her older sister. "Would you like to
see that?"
Would I like seeing that? Is the Pope Catholic? Does a
bear shit in the woods? Does a marble roll down hill? Do mink
fuck?
I was about to give SOME kind of reply . . . whether of
agreement; or a scared break for the car before I did something I
would regret, when the door went DING, and somebody entered. How
much he saw of me feeling up the little 4-year-old, while peering
into the blouse of her older sister, I'll never know; but by the
time he paid for his donuts and left, both little girls were
demurely seated beside their mother, as if teasing a poor old man
like me with their budding sexual charms was the farthest thing
from the minds of any one of them.
As the customer left, one of the girls whispered something
in their mother's ear.
"Really?" she responded. "You're sure? It can't wait?"
"No Momma . . . I need to, right NOW. She does too." the
older girl said; looking pointedly at her little sister.
"You're SURE it can't wait until we get home?"
"Please, Momma?" the 4-year old responded.
The woman looked at me rather quizzically. "Uh . . .
Charlie?" she asked, "Could you do me a big favor? The girls
need to use the restroom; and I'm slightly handicapped. Could
you do me a favor by taking the girls in there and helping them
out? I'd really appreciate it."
At THIS point, I should have just shown the girls where the
restroom was, and left in a hurry; knowing full well that even
four-year-olds can get in and out of a public restroom
unaided . . . but I didn't.
"They're scared some stranger will come in, while they're in
there," she explained. Both little girls nodded gravely. "So
I'll keep a watch on out here, while you 'do your thing' in
there," she said.
I just HAD to know for sure. "What if I have to go too?" I
asked.
"Then go," she replied. "The girls have seen a man's thing
before; so don't worry about anything shocking them."
Talk about a "green light." This was a "fucking green
light" if I ever heard one. "Just be careful," she added. "As I
said, the older girl is almost seven, and her little sister is
only four. You take good care of them . . . I'm trusting you,
because they like you."
I nodded. I could no more hurt those two little girls, than
I could cut off my own arm with a table-knife.
"How long do I have?" I whispered.
5
"Fifteen minutes . . . not one second longer, or I'm calling
the cops," she whispered back.
"If you're SURE this is what you want?" I asked; giving the
woman one last time to back out.
"They're sure," she said; looking at the two eager faces
waiting for me by the hall where the restrooms were. "They need
to use the restroom BAD."
My last chance to "chicken out" was when I reached the
restroom door and found the men's with a sign, "Closed for
maintenance" and the women's with a similar paper slip over the
sign "Women" saying "Unisex, until repairs are completed. Sorry
for the inconvenience."
I pushed open the door. One stool, and no separate stall
for the stool. Just one room.
Both girls excitedly pulled me inside before I could object.
We had barely gotten inside, when I heard the door "click" and
realized the older girl had locked the entrance behind us. I was
supposed to be protecting THEM?
"I'm first," said the 6-year old; heading for the stool.
"Hey!" exclaimed her younger sister. "You ALWAYS go first.
I wanted to this time . . . after all he . . . ." the little
girl's voice trailed off as the older girl gave her a glare
before skinning out of the thin little blouse. Seconds later she
was pulling both panties and skirt off with one motion; and
settling herself on the seat. "OOooooh, I needed that," she
moaned; reaching down between her legs and rubbing hard. "God
I'm so horny."
I watched in amazement as the 6-year-old masturbated
unashamedly in front of me; while her little sister quietly
slipped out of HER clothes and came back to snuggle into the arm
I almost unconsciously held out for her.
The sensuously smooth skin against my arm was almost
shocking in it's exhilarating yet earthy feel. For the first
time in years I almost felt like cumming in my pants.
"Aren't you going to get undressed too?" asked the little
girl. "We don't have too long, and you promised to help."
"You want me to get undressed?" I asked, to confirm what I
had just heard. Here I had just hoped for a feel of little girl
pussy; not even expecting to get the chance to taste them like I
had been dreaming of; figuring that the sight of a full grown man
with a tumescent prick might scare the little girls; thinking I
might try to put it inside one of them. Now, it looked at the
very least as if I was going to get a hand-job; and if REALLY
lucky maybe even a blow-job from the older girl. The 4-year-old
was obviously too young. Heck, her big sister was obviously too
young.
"Uhuh. How else are we going to fuck, if you don't?" she
asked; looking up at me with that expectant look that only little
kids can beg with.
I was half undressed myself, by the time the child's words
sank in. Fuck them? She couldn't mean that. Suck them,
perhaps.
"You want me to suck your sister off?" I asked; wondering if
I was stupid or merely hard of hearing.
"Please . . . she needs it."
End of Part 1