Date: Thu, 31 Dec 1998 18:32:47 EST From: Wbug444@aol.com Subject: "The Journal" (Lesbian/Adult-Youth) New story from Randi!!! *** Standard Disclaimer *** The following contains a textual depiction of consensual sex between a woman and a young girl. The descriptions are graphic and clinical. Please read no farther if this kind of material offends you. Permission is hereby granted to reproduce, archive, and disseminate this story by any means, as long as the following conditions are met: 1) The entire text of the story is reproduced, archived, or disseminated, including this disclaimer. 2) The story is not reproduced, archived, or disseminated as part of any commercial product or collection that is distributed for financial gain. Permission is explicitly denied to archives that require an Adult Check ID number for access to this file, or to any archive that accepts advertising on any web page visible to a person attempting to locate or access this file. This means you, Deja News! * * * Journal #1 by Randi Pattersen I am finally getting around to writing this because it has been a somewhat busy week for me. I promised myself I would try to chronicle my next relationship, so that's why I'm lying here, tapping at the keyboard of my laptop, gently baking my body and my mind in the warm desert sun. It is mid-May in the desert southwest, perfect weather for tanning. I hear the patio door hiss open and I stop typing to watch a young girl walking towards me from the house. She is fourteen, on that exquisite cusp between pubescence and adolescence. She is clad in a black bikini that she was too self-conscious to wear only yesterday. It is demure by my own standards, but for her it is daringly bare, and that is the important thing. I take a hit from the bong lying on the deck next to me and resume typing as she strides past me and pauses at the edge of the pool. Her bikini bottom clings snugly to hips that still carry baby fat. Her breasts, small, nearly perfect hemispheres, thrust against the triangular cups of her top. She dives in and remains submerged, swimming a complete lap underwater. She surfaces at the edge of the pool nearest me and tosses her hair back. Fractal geometries dance for a moment in the interface between air and water as sunlight is refracted by the cascading droplets. Briefly, her head is surrounded by a mandala of rainbows, rigid Newtonian trajectories imposing an aesthetic order on the chaotic system of head, water, and light. The effect is startlingly beautiful. She speaks. "What are you writing?" "How startlingly beautiful you are." "Be serious." She blushes, and I feel my libido surge. She climbs out of the pool and lies down next to me on the big double lounger. I glance down the length of her young body, taking in the curve of her breasts, the flatness of her tummy, the thrust of her mons against the material of her bikini bottoms. She is conscious of her bareness, but is only vaguely aware of the effect it is having on me. I will soon let her know, though, in no uncertain terms. "I am serious. She is gazing at me intently, so I return her gaze with a steady one of my own. I return to my eyes to the laptop's screen. The child-woman next to me shuts her eyes and drifts off to sleep. I type. Occasionally, I glance at her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathes, tracing the projected path of my lips along her body. With an effort, I force myself to concentrate on my journal. * * * I was the doctor on duty when she arrived at the emergency room with her mother. I watched from across the waiting room as the triage nurse gathered her vitals. She was young, early teens, and quite pretty. I saw the nurse ask her a question and from across the room I could see her blush. She beckoned the nurse to lean down. She whispered something to the nurse who immediately nodded reassuringly and then caught my eye. I am the only female MD on this shift, and blushing teenage girls are my specialty. I walked over and introduced myself, and then took her by the hand to lead her back to the examination room. In the examination room, I helped her up onto the table. She was wearing a short plaid skirt and a white blouse, and some kind of school blazer. I turned to draw the privacy curtain, and when I turned back to her, she was alternately rocking her hips and tugging at the hem of her short skirt in a charming display of modesty. I caught a glimpse of the very tip of her panty-clad pubis. I took my stethoscope out and warmed up the accumulator in the palm of my right hand. With my left hand, I unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse, and then slipped the accumulator under her bra, resting it against the side of her left breast. I listened to her heartbeat for a moment. "So, tell me, what is your name?" "Caryn, with a y." "Ok, Caryn with a y, what can I do for you?" "I...I...that is my...well, I think I hurt myself." "Where, dear?" "My breasts. My nipples, actually." "Then we'd better get this blouse off of you." I finished unbuttoning her blouse, and then slipped it from her shoulders. Her hands were crossed in her lap, so the blouse hung suspended against her back, caught in the crooks of her elbows. She was wearing a bra with a front closure. I undid the hook, and slipped the cups to the sides. Leaning closer, I examined each nipple. Her winedark aureoles were the size of a nickel. The nipples were very red, the tissue obviously inflamed by some kind of mechanical trauma. I began to form a tentative hypothesis. Her breasts were small, but were fully mature. I cupped each one gently, applied an upward pressure, and then released it. Her nipples moved several centimeters as I did this. Next, I examined the inside of one of the cups. I was looking for, and found, a raised seam at the center of the cup. "I think I know what the problem is. Are you a jogger?" "I'm on the track team." "What is your event?" "Cross country." Aha. A distance runner. "Well, Caryn-with-a-Y, I think I know what the problem is. As you run, your breasts are moving inside your bra and your nipples are rubbing against the material of the cup. Here, run your finger across the inside of your bra cups. Feel that raised seam? That is what is doing it. Technically, it's called repeated mechanical tissue trauma, but you can call it runner's nipple. It is quite common and you can prevent it by wearing a jog bra when you are working out or competing. In the meantime, I will give you something for the pain, plus something to help them heal. " I wrote her a prescription for the pain, and then I rubbed a topical analgesic gently into her nipples. Her nipples erected, and I looked up to see her blush. "Why are you blushing?" "That...tickles." Another blush. I had obviously aroused her. I wondered how aroused the pelvic exam was going to make her. I quickly finished anointing her nipples, and said briskly, "Well, that's that. Let's finish the rest of your examination. I suggest you finish undressing so I can complete your examination. You can leave your panties on for now. Ok?" She got off the exam table, then reached to her waist to unfasten her skirt. It fell to her feet with a soft rustle of fabric. I picked it up and laid it on a chair. I stood behind her and helped her shrug out of her blouse and bra. The blouse and bra joined the skirt on the chair. Beneath her skirt, she was wearing a rather brief pair of white cotton panties. She climbed back onto the exam table. She looked very vulnerable sitting there. "Just relax, Caryn, and lie back." I pushed her back gently, until she was lying down on her back. I continued with my exam. She was tense, which was understandable, so I said, "Relax, dear. Believe me, this won't take long, and I promise it won't hurt." Chatting with a patient helps them relax, and verbalizing everything I am doing keeps me proficient in my practice. Eventually she began to relax, which was good, because during the pelvic I dislike having to use a speculum. When I was ready to do her pelvic, I slipped my hand along her abdomen, and then under the waistband of her panties. I identified by touch first her pubic hair, and then the soft swell of her mons and the gentle curves of her labia, and, surprisingly, a hint of moisture in her vaginal cleft. She was more aroused than I thought. When I could feel her anus with the tip of my middle finger, I stopped. Her labia nestled themselves firmly against my palm. * * * Caryn stirs, and I gaze down at her sleeping form. I can still remember that first intimate touch, the soft round curves of her pudenda revealing themselves to my fingers. At the time, I was sorely tempted to masturbate her right then and there, but I suppressed the desire. Instead, I gave her a routine pelvic exam, and satisfied myself with the occasional, seemingly random caress of her clitoris. She gasped each time I touched it. At my side, Caryn is still dozing. I lift my fingers from the laptop's keyboard and trail them languidly up and across my stomach, letting them come to rest against my breasts. I slip a finger under the cup and gently rub a nipple. I am growing excited. The game is about to begin, and I know the outcome. I give my nipple a quick pinch. Getting Caryn to spend an afternoon with me was not difficult. In the course of our conversation during her follow-up visits, I discovered she liked to swim, but was too shy to frequent the public pools very often. I casually invited her to swim at my house, and she readily accepted. For me sex is very simple, because I have only one rule: Sex should be a rewarding experience for all parties concerned. From a biological perspective, sex is mostly friction between mucous membranes in sliding contact with each other. It is a tribute to our creativeness as a sentient species that we have come up with so many delightful ways to generate friction with each other. I have definitely made up my own mind about sex, and I have decided I prefer sex with members of my own gender, preferably ones that are still young enough to be open to new experiences. In my culture, the vast majority of the population frowns upon this preference with almost religious fervor. Yet I am in little danger of discovery...I have been seducing girls like Caryn since I started my pediatric practice 11 years ago. I am 36 now, and have slipped my hands into the panties of thousands of ten-to-sixteen-year-olds as a pediatrician. In fifteen or twenty minutes from now, I will be easing my fingers under the waistband of her bikini. She is so young, and so very female. For her, sex is a fascinating mystery, a topic to be speculated about with her friends, and to be scrupulously avoided in conversations with her parents, especially her father. Her social life is pretty much spent in search of a clue to this mystery -- junior high dances, forbidden books, wild speculation at slumber parties, and solitary, daring experiments in a locked bathroom. I've had her type so many times that I should be jaded, but that is the magic of sex. When I coax her to an orgasm, I know that I will climax with her and that I will come as hard or harder than I have ever come in my life. Sex is the most addictive drug in the world -- every time is like the first time. The anticipation is already arousing me. It is time. I feel a warm fire centered in my vagina. I place the laptop on the deck beneath the lounger. I take another hit from the bong, exhaling the smoke in two thin streams from my nostrils. I roll to my side and place my hand on Caryn's cheek. Her eyes flutter open, and I ask her to spread some suntan oil on me. She readily agrees. I roll onto my back and place my arms behind my head. Caryn is momentarily confused. I watch as she debates with herself, figuring out what she should do. Eventually, she picks up the bottle of suntan oil and squeezes out a generous amount into the palm of her hand. She leans over me, and tentatively begins to coat my shoulders and upper arms with the oil. When my arms are done, she turns her attention to my torso. She very carefully avoids my breasts, and the area between my navel and the waistband of my bikini. I enjoy her attentions for several minutes. She is standing beside me now, applying oil to my legs. When she turns away to get more oil, I slip my top off. I can sunbathe nude because my house sits on 4 acres of land high up in the foothills of a mountain range north of the city. My nearest neighbor is half a kilometer away and dozens of meters downslope. I like my privacy, and my salary is sufficient to indulge myself. When she turns back, she is surprised to see me casually tossing my top to the side. She hesitates, staring at my breasts. I lean back, arms again crossed behind my head. I nod at her reassuringly, and thrust my breasts upwards slightly, tacitly inviting her to cover them with the oil. Again she hesitates, longer this time. Finally, I watch as her modesty surrenders shortly to her curiosity, and she reaches tentatively towards me. Hesitantly, she lays her hand on my right breast, and then slowly begins to rub the oil in. I smile at her, and then close my eyes. I feel her hand continue to move across my breast. Her touch is light at first, but grows firmer as her confidence builds. My nipples erect almost immediately, which she does not seem to notice. She takes her time, but soon my breasts are glistening with oil. I gesture towards the island of dry flesh between my navel and my bikini bottoms. "I think you missed a spot." This time there is no hesitation. As she spreads the oil across my abdomen, I contemplate the immediate future and a smile comes to my face. She sees it. "What are you smiling at? "The future." "What is in the future?" "Pleasure. " She finishes oiling my abdomen and then lies down on the lounger next to me. I roll over on my side and reach across her body to the table where she set down the oil. "Are you sure you don't want some oil, sweetheart?" I hold the bottle poised just above her breasts. "Well.." She is hesitant, but acquiesces. I tilt the bottle, and squirt some oil directly on her chest between her small breasts. With the index finger of my left hand, I begin to rub it into her skin. I watch her eyes as I slip my finger down towards the shallow cleft between her breasts. I hold her gaze until she drops her eyes. I rub the oil against the insides of her breasts, and her eyelids flutter. As she begins to blush, I send my finger under her top in search of a nipple. I find it and press it gently. She gasps. I slip my finger over to her other breast, and this time, I gently pull the cup to the side, exposing her nipple and aureole. I circle her nipple with my finger tip, delighting in the way the oil makes her aureole glisten in the sun. With my right hand, I reach behind her neck and undo the top's ties. I lift the ties from around her neck, pulling them down until both her breasts are exposed. She starts to speak. I remove my finger from the tip of her breast and place it against her lips. She remains silent, but is watching me very, very, intently. I return her gaze with a steady one of my own. I drop the ties, and now I have both hands free to work on her. I capture one of her breasts in the palm of my left hand and squeeze it. Again she gasps, and I pinch the nipple between my fingers quite firmly. Her gasp becomes a moan as I tug on the nipple. I let my other hand slip down her torso. I caress the flat expanse of her tummy, while I continue to pinch her nipple. She is breathing quite rapidly now, so I release her nipple, and reach around and underneath her to undo the remaining set of ties of her top. I pull the top from her body, and her arms automatically come up to cover her breasts. Gently, I grab both her hands in one of mine and firmly but gently stretch her arms up and over her head. With my free hand, I recover the bottle of oil and squirt some in a line down her torso, starting between her breasts and ending just above the waistline of her bikini bottom. I rub the oil into the skin of her torso. I coat her abdomen, paying careful attention to her navel. She slips her hands free of my hand, and reaches over her head to grasp the top edge of the lounger's backrest. I bring my hand back down to her chest and begin to caress her breasts. Her nipples are rigidly erect. She gasps as I tweak each one. I take the bottle of oil in my hand again and stream some oil along each thigh. I abandon the delights of her small breasts and bring both hands together around one of her thighs. I move my hands slowly up and down her thigh, sliding them down to her knee, and then slipping them ever higher towards her swimsuit clad mons. At the top of my stroke, I let the backs of my fingers rub gently against the swell of her pubis beneath the thin material of her bikini. She immediately clamps her thighs together, but I gently force them apart. I switch to the other leg, and again, as my hands travel up her thigh towards her crotch she brings her legs together, and I again coax them apart, this time moving my body to kneel between them. Reaching in front of me, I grasp the waistband of her bikini and slip it down her hips, until it is just eclipsing her vaginal cleft. Again, I take the bottle of oil and stream a thin line of oil parallel to the waistband of the bikini. I begin to rub the oil into the flesh of her lower abdomen with the finger tips of one hand. I rest my other hand softly on the tip of her pubis, and begin to lightly stroke her labia through the Lycra of the bikini. She moans quietly and I smile. When her body is covered with oil, I pause, and admire the view. Caryn's eyes are closed, and she is breathing quite rapidly. Her small breasts are heaving. Suddenly she opens her eyes, and I see her desire, mixed with confusion, and not a little fear. She blinks rapidly. She is ripe, and I pluck her. I sit on the edge of the lounge, and pull Caryn's legs into my lap. I ease her bikini bottoms down until they are at mid-thigh, completely baring her pudenda. With a finger, I caress her vaginal cleft. With my other hand, I reach to her mouth, and insert three fingers. When I feel Caryn's vaginal muscles relax, I remove my fingers, glistening with her saliva, from her mouth. I lean to the side, and we are suddenly two spoons, Caryn's pert derriere resting against my abdomen. I reach my wet fingers over the rise of her hip, and let them come to rest against her mons. Slowly but firmly, I spread her outer labia, then her inner labia, and insert my middle finger a centimeter into her vaginal canal. She groans as I penetrate her, and then gasps twice as my index and ring finger join their companion on the threshold of her vagina. I feel her hymen detach, and I feel her tense up with the pain. I locate her clitoris, and begin to friction my fingers across its hood. Very quickly, the erectile tissue suffuses with blood. Her clitoris pushes past the hood and Caryn experiences the direct contact of my fingers against her clitoris. I smile as she moans, and I feel the muscle tissue in her vagina spasm as she climaxes. She turns towards me, and I rearrange my grip on her mons to allow her to do so. She throws her arms around my neck, and buries her face against my breasts. With my free hand on the nape of her neck, I pull her even closer, guiding her lips towards a nipple. I feel her lips tentatively grasp at my nipple, and then, delight upon delight, her tongue as it begins to circle around it. I begin to fuck her with my fingers, using long, slow strokes. She begins to thrust her hips against me in rhythmic counterpoint. I coax her on and on and again she comes, this time moaning aloud. I roll over on top of her, and then slide down the oil-slick length of her torso, until my eyes are even with the tips of her breasts. I extend my tongue, and capture a nipple. Caryn's breasts are small, and I take the entire breast into my mouth. I can taste her perspiration, and the suntan oil. She is a meal, and this is just the appetizer. I release her breast, and slip farther down her torso until I am gazing at her tiny thatch of pubic hair. My gaze slips lower as I continue to piston my fingers into and out of her. Her labia cling intimately to the three fingers I have buried inside of her. As my hand withdraws on the up stroke, and her pelvis sinks away, I watch them conform to the changing contours of my fingers. Her labia are bright red. They glisten from the suntan oil. It is beautifully obscene. I can smell her, now too -- blood from her torn hymen, perspiration, her own lubrication -- a chaotic mix of esters that triggers an almost reptilian response in my limbic system. I rest my head against the inside of her thigh, and breathe deep, sighing happily. I feel another orgasm shudder through her, and then extract my fingers from her vagina. I slip them into my own mouth, and taste her essence. Salty and sweet, with a coppery tinge from the blood. I take my fingers from my mouth, and insert them in my vagina. I am more than ready, and my vagina relaxes to easily admit them. Caryn is almost quiescent now. I can hear her breathing. Deep, slow breaths punctuated by a sharp gasp every now and then as her limbic system still sporadically responds to the friction my fingers generated against the sensitive tissues of her clitoris. I lower my face to her mons, and lick the mucus and blood from her labia. With two fingers, I part her outer labia. Delicately, but firmly, I thrust my tongue into her vagina. She is ambrosia, and I drink her deep. I nibble at the bud of her clitoris, probing it softly with my tongue, and feel her arch her back in response. I hear a low moan, and it is music to my ears, because I know how to play this tune very well. I bite down on her clitoris. The moan is choked off with a gasp. I bite down again, and she gasps again. Caryn finds the new rhythm, and soon the gasps smooth out. I hear a long, delicious, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh", and then just a small gasp as Caryn climaxes. With my free hand and arm, I elevate her legs and hips, bringing the puckered muscles of her anus within reach. Slipping my wet fingers from my vagina, I penetrate her anus with my ring finger. I feel her rectum spasm at the intrusion, and hear Caryn grunt in surprise. I alternate between licking and biting her clitoris, while continuously penetrating her rectum with my finger. In this manner, I coax her to orgasm after orgasm. After the sixth one, she is exhausted, and panting to catch her breath. I withdraw my tongue from her vagina and my finger from her rectum, wiping the clinging fecal matter on a towel. While she is resting, I stand up long enough to take my bikini off, and then lie down again between her legs. Sliding upwards along her torso, I briefly recapture one of her nipples between my lips, and smile inwardly as I feel her hands wrap around behind my neck and pull my face harder against her breasts. I release her nipple and ease upward along her body until our eyes are even. She wraps her legs around my body, and I feel her ankles locked against the small of my back, her wet genitalia pressing urgently against my abdomen. Her vulva slides along my torso, leaving a trail of pre-coital lubrication and blood. I kiss her deeply, open mouthed, and she responds, her tongue darting eagerly against mine. We kiss, and then I release her lips, and pull myself up to a kneeling position astride her. I edge forward on my knees, until my pubis is centimeters from her face. She looks up at me, and I see the uncertainty in her eyes. Hesitantly, she reaches up and touches my exposed labia with her fingers. I place my hand behind her head and pull gently, until her lips are almost touching my mons. She lowers her eyes, and I wait. I am rewarded as I see her tongue emerge from between her lips. Tentatively, she touches my labia with the tip. Then, more boldly, she licks their entire length. The sensation is exquisite. She stops and looks up, almost as if seeking approval, and I nod encouragingly. She resumes, and I reach behind me and find her vagina. She is still very wet, so I slip my index finger inside her. But she seems oblivious. I feel her bring one of her hands to my mons to part my labia, and then I feel her tongue against my clitoris. She is young and inexperienced, but her eagerness to please is compensation enough. I whisper direction to her, guiding her lips to my clitoris. She is a quick study...soon I am writhing in pleasure. I lose count of my orgasms. When I finally glance down at her again, I see my lubrication glistening on her cheeks and chin, an amazingly erotic sight. I stop her with my hand, and then slip off her. I pull her to her feet and lead her inside to the downstairs bathroom, where I tell her to take a shower and then come find me, so we can talk about what just happened. She nods, and I return to the deck, where I retrieve my laptop. I return to the house, and climb upstairs to the master bedroom. I rinse off quickly in the master bedroom's bath and then sit down on the bed with my laptop, and start to type furiously. In the background, I hear the shower running downstairs. By the clock on the dresser, she is in there for nearly twenty minutes. Eventually I hear I her footsteps on the stairs, and a few moments later, she walks into the bedroom. She is naked, and glowing. I close the laptop, and motion for her to climb into the bed beside me. She joins me on the bed, and I gather her into my arms, and ask her if she understands what has just happened. She nods, and says simply, "Do it to me again. Please?" -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----