Date: Fri, 4 Aug 2017 19:00:19 +0000 (UTC) From: Misty Meadow Subject: Love in the Lakes Love in the Lakes by Misty Meadow I've rented a cottage for the Summer, a mile or so from the small town of Grassmere in the Lake District. The view over the lake is stunning, making the outrageous rent almost worth it. The agent told me it once belonged to one of the Lake Poets and gave me a name that I've since forgotten, but it wasn't Wordsworth or Coleridge. He was probably just a bloke who wrote scatological verse on the wall of the public lavatory down in the town and called himself a lake poet. I even write poetry myself and now I'm living in the Lakes so, am I a Lake poet? This Summer has been unusually hot, hopefully putting an end to the debate about climate change, and this afternoon, I'm sitting on the little stone bench beside my front door, gazing down at the mirror-like water, half a mile away. Lakeland's customary lush greenness has turned to a uniform beige as the land has dried up but now clouds are beginning to build up in the West which might deliver rain to the parched countryside. I lean back, my head against the stone wall and close my eyes. The air is still and I can hear the faint hum of traffic from the town and the occasional buzz of an insect or the call of a bird. I drift off to sleep but I'm soon awakened by rain drops on my face. I open my eyes and look up to see that huge thunderheads have quickly built up and we're in for a storm. The wind is picking up and the temperature has dropped significantly. I go indoors, happy that we're going to get that much needed rain. My beloved Lake District will soon be green again. I sit at my PC in the big leather captain's chair that I had shipped up from London, lean back and continue my never ending search on the internet for pictures of naked little girls. Child porn, you might say, and technically, much of it is, but the only pictures I download are those in which the subject has a happy smile on her face, who clearly wants to be photographed and who's eager to show off, well, whatever she wants. It's not the sight of genitals that arouse me, it's the subjects' delight in displaying them. Pickings are slim these days. One has to know where to look, and almost all of my good sources have dried up. I need to be diligent and lucky. Good pix of naked preteens don't last long on the internet. Still, I have lots of time on my hands. I hear the drumming of rain on the roof and look up to see water streaming down the windows. The storm has arrived. It's been so long since I saw rain that I stand by the window and watch it. It pours in a stream from the corner of the roof, forming rivulets that run down the short garden path to the lane below, growing bigger by the minute. Then I see two diminutive figures running down the lane towards me and I go to the front door and open it. They run up the garden path, into the house and I shut the door behind them. "Twiggy!" I say, "and Little Pansy! My God, you're soaking wet." I know Twiggy quite well. She got the nickname from her Grandma who remembers a supermodel in the sixties, the first of the super slim models, whom everyone called "Twiggy", given her skinny frame. Our Twiggy is as thin as a rake and although she's thirteen I haven't seen any signs of puberty. I've only met Pansy once or twice and she's very shy, but though I'm told she's eleven, she looks much younger. "Come into the kitchen, girls, you're dripping on the carpet." The kitchen floor is tiled and I can mop it. "Look at you; two drowned rats!" They grin at me. "We were up at Uncle Jim's house swimming in his pool," says Twiggy, "but after we started walking home, the rain came on suddenly and we just ran to the nearest house and here we are." "Were you skinny dipping?" "Yeah," says Pansy grinning. "Uncle Jim likes to watch us." She's not related to him, just a friend, and the title "Uncle" is merely a convenience. "I bet he does, the dirty old dog," I say. At the beginning of Summer I was invited to a garden party and Twiggy was there, quite happily skinny dipping while the guests looked on, or as in my case, pretended not to. I don't want people thinking I like little girls, God forbid! Most of the time she was in the water, but when she climbed out and I good a nice full frontal look at her, my insides melted. "Okay, get those dresses off. I'll put them in the dryer and you can hang out here until the storm's over. Let me get you a towel." I step quickly into my bathroom and collect a big fluffy bath towel. "You'll have to share," I say, handing it to Twiggy. I watch, trying not to stare as she lifts the soaking dress over her head and hands it to me. Her white cotton knickers are also soaked. "Knickers as well, girls." My tummy churns with excitement as Twiggy slides her knickers down and hands them to me. I can see that despite being ultra slender, her boobs have begun to grow since the beginning of Summer, and her tiny mounds are topped by lovely big nipples. Down below, I see a wisp of pubic hair. Pansy unbuttons her dress down the front and steps out of it. Her knickers are equally wet, pushed out at the front by her prominent mound and drawn into her slit by the wetness to form a perfect camel toe. Unlike Twiggy, she's still a child, her chest perfectly flat and her pubic areas unsullied by hair. I take their dresses and knickers and toss them into my dryer by the back door. When both girls have dried off I take the towel and toss that in too. If I leave the towel with them, one of them will wrap it round herself and I want to see these two little darlings naked for as long as I can. "Wow, Twiggy!" I coo, "Look at you! You're growing a nice pair of boobs. They're almost as big as mine." I spread my shirt wide to show off my micro tits. I was as slim as Twiggy at her age and I've hardly put on an ounce since and my small firm breasts have never known a bra. I should point out that this morning, after my shower, I put on a pair of white translucent nylon knickers and my signature tartan shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I didn't bother to button it, after all, who would see me? But now I have an audience, two naked little angels who stare at me appreciatively. "I don't have any boobs," says Pansy, plaintively. "No, my darling," I say, sitting down on a kitchen chair and pulling her in between my parted thighs. "But you have lovely little nipples." I put my arms round her waist and draw her to me, bending to kiss her sweet little nipples, then teasing them with my tongue. She giggles. "It won't be long now and you'll be even sexier than Twiggy." "Hands off, Misty, she's mine," says Twiggy. I'm mildly shocked. Twiggy's claiming ownership of Little Pansy? "Oh, my God!" I breathe. "Have you two got something going between you?" Twiggy backs off. "She's just my friend, that's all. She's too young to . . . you know what." "Pansy, you're, what, eleven?" She nods. "At the age of eleven, I'd had several crushes on teachers and neighbours and a number of close friendships that involved more than just kisses. Fingers, if you know what I mean; and I'd learned to touch myself in bed at night, even though I hadn't had my first period." "I haven't either," says Twiggy, "any day now, though." "So, Pansy, you should do whatever you want to do and don't let anyone tell you you're too young. If you and Twiggy want to get naughty with each other, I think that's marvelous. Okay, let's go into the living room. I want to take some pictures of you." "Pictures of us naked?" asks Twiggy. "Seeing as you've nothing to wear, what choice do we have?" In the living room I take my mobile from my shirt pocket and aim. "Stand side by side, arms round each other's shoulders and smile. Nice big smiles; there, that's perfect." It's a nice shot, not at all pornographic, just a family photo, you might say. "Now I want you to face each other, arms round your waists, yes, like that. Now, kiss." "We're not lesbians," says Twiggy, defensively. She's understandably reluctant to advertise the fact that her fondness for Little Pansy is more than just platonic. "No, but I am," I say, somewhat unnecessarily. With my boyish figure, cropped hair and my habit of wearing lumberjack shirts, it's a bit obvious. Everone who knows me assumes correctly that I'm gay, and I'm proud of it. "I like to see girls kissing. There's no harm in it." My shirt's fallen from one shoulder so I shrug it off the other and let it fall. "You can kiss me, Twiggy," says Little Pansy, "I don't mind." As I shoot the kiss, I conclude that Twiggy doesn't mind either, given all the tongue action. "Perfect," I say, after half a dozen shots, giving them time to enjoy the kiss. They break apart and Twiggy, glancing round, sees my PC sitting on the desk, the screen alight. She steps across to it and gasps. Oh,shit! I forgot to turn it off before I went to watch the rain, and once the girls hove into sight, it left my mind. My internet search had yielded nothing and Id fallen fallen back on my huge collection of naked girls, assembled over the years, comprising several hundred assorted nude nymphets. The sreen shows a smiling naked woman in her twenties sitting on a kitchen chair, and perched on her parted thighs is a naked preteen girl leaning back against the older woman who has her hands under the girl's knees, pulling them wide apart so that they're almost at one eighty degrees. The camera looks directly at the target, the girl's sweet little cunt, but my gaze is drawn upwards to her face, smiling broadly or perhaps laughing, aglow with happiness. I've captioned the picture, "Mummy showing me off to the world." "Oh, my God!" Twiggy gasps. "Come and look at this, Pansy. It's unbelievable! Do you know these people, Misty?" "No, it's just a picture downloaded from the internet." "She looks so happy," says Pansy. "Is that her mum?" "I've no idea. Possibly, or her aunt, maybe or family friend. It could be they used a camera with a delay feature and took the picture themselves." I sit in my captain's chair. "I've got more pictures like this. Pansy, come and sit on my lap." She climbs up and leans back against my bare chest. Twiggy stands beside me and I have an almost irresistible urge to run my hand up the inside of her thigh until I reach the gates of heaven, but I control myself. "Let's see them," Twiggy says, eagerly. I click the forward arrow and the next picture appears. In this, one girl sits cross legged, facing the camera, her treasure openly displayed, and the other stands beside her, one foot up on her shoulder as the first girl gazes up adoringly at her gleaming wet cunt, just an inch or two from her face. My caption reads, "Can I lick you?" "She's definitely gonna lick it," Twiggy says, smirking. Pansy giggles. "I hope so. She wouldn't wanna waste an opportunity like that." I click to the next picture. The same two girls are down on the floor on all fours, facing away from the camera, bums up in the air, all four orifices in full view as they look over their shoulders, smiling broadly. Again, their pussies gleam with moisture. The caption reads, "Did you bring the dildoes?" The girls dutifully laugh. "More," says Little Pansy. She's not showing the slightest bit of reluctance to look at this seriously adult material. "Yeah, how many pix you got, Misty?" "Hundreds, and you'll see them all in due course, but that's enough for now." "Aw, just when it was getting interesting," says Twiggy. "Spoilsport," says Pansy. "What I was thinking was . . . how would you like to pose for me, exactly like those three pictures? Don't worry, no one will ever see them except me and you guys, I promise you. They won't be on the internet." They look at each other for a second or so. "I don't mind," says Little Pansy. A flicker of relief passes over Twiggy's face. "Okay, then, Misty. Let's make some child porn." I fetch the chair from the kitchen and place it against the backdrop of the floor-to-ceiling curtains, pulling them closed. Twiggy sits on it and Little Pansy backs up to her and settles down on her thighs, spreading her kinny legs as wide as she can. Twiggy puts her hands under her knees, pulling them even wider. It's exactly the same shot as the first one of my collection, with three differences: Twiggy is much younger than "mum", I'm shooting from a much lower angle, lying on the floor allowing the camera to see Twiggy's sweet little pussy with its growing lips and discernible clit, and Pansy's cunt is dry. I point this out to them. Pansy licks a finger and rubs it over her slit, but to no effect. I climb to my feet and kneel in front of her. I put my middle finger in my mouth, get it covered with saliva and press it against the girl's lips. I lean back and look. Not enough. I dribble a blob of spit on to my finger and "apply it liberally", as they say. That looks better. Little Pansy is giggling and clearly enjoying the attention to what I imagine has been, up until now, her most private part. I lie back down again and get several delicious shots, the last being a close-up in which two cunts, one above the other, fill the screen. "Perfect!" I announce, looking at the result. The last photo is going to blow up beautifully and displayed on my fifty inch TV, will make a nice wall decoration. Now I arrange them into the second tableau, with Pansy sitting cross legged and Twiggy standing over her, foot on shoulder. Her lips are moist, but not wet enough, so I spit on my finger again and slide it up and down her slit. "Not enough," I say. "I'm gonna have to lick it." "Oooooh!" Pansy coos, awestruck. "You're gonna lick Twiggy?" "If she doesn't mind." "I'll suffer anything for the sake of my art," Twiggy quips. "Go ahead, Misty, lick me." I'm in heaven. This morning I was a lonely dyke taking solace in child porn and now I have two willing preteen girls, happily naked, complying with all my suggestions and now I'm about to commit and extremely illegal act by orally assaulting one of them while the other watches from inches away. I lean in, swirl saliva round my mouth, then push my tongue against her pink lips, pressing as much spit as I can into her. I give her clit a good bathing while I'm there. This has been the sweetest ten seconds of my life so far. My heart is pounding. I step back and take several shots from different angles as the girls beam at me, their delight at showing themselves off quite obvious. Then I pose them on all fours on the floor, bums elevated, orifices displayed. "I need to get you both wet," I say and starting with Little Pansy's darling little cunt, I lather her with my saliva, taking my sweet time, pushing my tongue into her and coating her whole pubic area with spit, including her little brown rosebud. I move across to Twiggy and repeat the performance. They seem to love it. They smile back at me as I take the shots, then leap to their feet and demand to see my work. We sit side by side on the couch, looking at the screen on my phone. They're fantastic! Much lewder than the originals, both girls are presenting their dripping wet cunts for the whole world to see. "They look much better with our pussies nice and wet," says Twiggy. "Let's take some more, Misty. This is so fun!" We look at more samples from my collection and select half a dozen that we can emulate. "Now, girls, if you want to show yourselves as sexually aroused and therefore dripping wet, you're gonna have to provide your own saliva." "But I can't reach down there," wails Pansy. "Don't be silly," says Twiggy. "She means lick each other. I don't suppose you've licked a girl before." "No, not yet." "I have," Twiggy announces, no longer reluctant to share her gay history with me. "More than one. You should try it, Pansy, it can be very exciting." "Practice first," I suggest, inviting them to lie on the couch, head to tail. Two little tongues go to work, making sweet love to their partners love tunnels, licking, exploring, probing and they're too preoccupied to notice that I'm taking pictures the whole time. After a while, they break apart to catch their breath. Twiggy looks at me. "You've still got your knickers on," she says, accusingly. "Well, so I have, and they're soaking wet, almost as wet as yours were when you arrived. I'm gonna have to put them in the dryer." I slide them down and step out of them, then sit on the coffee table, my legs parted, leaning back on my hands, letting them get a nice long close up look at my dripping wet cunt, with its big floppy lips and outsized clit, now swollen with passion. I know what Twiggy wants and I toss her my phone to let her take pictures of me. The flash goes off, then Little Pansy grabs the phone from her and takes several shots herself. "We didn't need to lick you, Misty," she says happily. "You're wet enough already." "Pity," says Twiggy, "I like to have tasted you. I imagine you taste much better than any of the girls I've licked." "So what's stopping you?" I ask. In a flash, she's on her knees between my legs, lapping furiously at my steaming cunt, licking my labia, pushing her tongue into me, sucking on my throbbing clit, but only half a minute's gone by when Little Pansy pushes her aside and buries her sweet little angel face between my thighs. * * * The rain has stopped and the girls' dresses are dry. I watch them do a strip tease in reverse, then hug and kiss them both. I watch from my front door as they trip down the garden path, on to the lane and turn towards the town. They look back at me and wave. I close the door and sit in my captain's chair, downloading the contents of my phone to my PC. When it's ready, I wet my fingers in my mouth, reach between my legs, start the slide show and prepare myself for the most shattering orgasm I've ever had in my whole fucking life! The end.