Hand that Rocks the Cradle
Publish Date: Apr 29, 2008
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“Can hardly back out now” Emeline told herself.
Just for a second she glanced across at her own bedroom window, not twenty feet from where she now stood in her neighbor’s palatial suite across the way.
For his part, Keith Leighton remained seated in the bedroom chair, gazing with unabashed lust at his soon-to-be teenage conquest. Cognizant of the fact she was now of legal age – after all, he had attended at the behest of her parents, the girl’s eighteenth birthday party just a week earlier – he aimed to make at the very least, a down-payment on the years of aggravated tease he had endured watching her grow from a cutesy pre-teen to the curvy young schoolgirl that now stood across the room from him.
Dressed as she was in that short denim skirt teamed with a simple though tight-fitting rose-colored top, one could hardly be surprised were the man’s thoughts to be aired aloud. She had come here of her own volition, dressed somewhat provocatively as usual. Slim with shoulder-length curly brown hair, yet standing only five-two, she would have appeared to any onlooker to be no more than fifteen or sixteen.
Aware from an early age that her next-door neighbor always seemed to be somewhere close-by when she was outside playing, she began to see a pattern to his activities as she moved into her teenage years. If she was hanging clothes out, he would call out “Hi Emmy” over the fence. Not infrequently, he would walk up to the grocery store when she would be running errands for her mom. Always the same breezy “Hi Em,” or “How’s School?” She began to enjoy the attention.
Why he and his wife had no children of their own she couldn’t say but what was obvious, whenever any opportunity came-up for him to talk to her, he would seize the opportunity with considerable relish.
Moving into her mid-teens she sensed her neighbor’s interest in her developing body. More than once she noticed him at the upstairs window when she was sunning herself by the pool. Didn’t take much in the way of geometric application to figure out that in his case, the angle of incidence between her swim-top and cleavage was pretty much equal to the visible hypotenuse down her rear cleft when she would bend over to retrieve a towel. She made it a habit in fact (whenever he was there at least) to thus accentuate if not prolong any such body movement.
Keith himself was once even caught-out by his wife in as compromising a position as may be envisaged. Seated in his chair near the open window, staring down at the young girl’s barely-clad rear-end, he was jerking himself to glory courtesy of both the visuals and his own rampantly impure thought-processes, when his spouse walked in.
“Keith Leighton!” she squealed in abject jealous rage. “Are you spying on that little hussy next door again?” then, walking to the window as he feverishly tried hiding the evidence of his indiscretion, she stood there hands-on-hips. “I knew it – she’s walking round in just her bikini…and only a teenage girl too – what’s WRONG with you Keith?”
It was less than eighteen months later that she left him.
Three years on and Keith’s fantasies had evolved big time. No longer was he satisfied by the frequent display of the girl’s cleavage and a deal of orgasmic solace brought on by imagining her in multiple provocative poses in his own bedroom. To put it succinctly if not quite crudely – he wanted his hands down her panties!
Nor had Emeline reached her tender eighteen years without some radically wayward hormonal input. From sixteen onwards, she had orchestrated many a satisfied moment in bed, imagining herself to be the submissive plaything of her admittedly good-looking neighbor. Simply the thought of him watching her through her bedroom window dressing for school some mornings, made her so hot she was still moist at recess. To ensure the continuity of this particular fantasy, she had of late, taken to leaving her bedroom curtains agape slightly, so that any and all post-shower activities including tugging up her panties and hooking her bra together were fully visible to her favored voyeur. Had her father known, he would either have spanked his daughter senseless or grounded her cellphone big time.
Only two days earlier Keith had (for once accidentally) run into the girl at the corner store and learned that both her parents would be away for the weekend, having to attend a relative’s funeral unexpectedly. In a moment of rash opportunistic enthusiasm he had then asked the girl if she might like to come over for dinner the following night. “We could maybe watch a movie” he had offered as an afterthought.
Despite coming up with a blush of significant proportions, Emeline had replied, “Oh, sure…why not?” to which he had needed to grip the nearest display rack for support. The die was most certainly cast!
All of which brings us back to the opening paragraph.
“Dinner” had been a fairly quiet little affair. Few words beyond some idle chatter although both of them sensed that the likelihood of a movie actually getting played was on the remote side. Keith was finding it difficult to drag his eyes away from the young girl’s breasts while Emeline’s hands betrayed her extreme nervousness.
“You know, I can see right into your bedroom sweetheart,” Keith mumbled in desperation.
“You want to come upstairs and see?”
In terms of a subtle verbal exchange, he may as well have asked her to remove her skirt and top and go sit on the fridge with her legs spread – it’s pretty much what he had in mind anyway! Breaking off eye contact but nodding perceptibly she then followed him to the staircase, allowing him to take her arm and lead her to where they both had in mind to go.
“Did you leave those curtains open deliberately Emeline?” he asked her quietly.
Still looking across at her home and fully aware he would have been staring at her rearward figure, she took her time answering.
“Sometimes,” she giggled. “Why? Did you enjoy looking at me?”
“I have to be honest Emmy – yes I did! Does that make me a bad person?” he asked.
Once again, a brief hiatus ensued.
“Not really,” she answered, turning around to face him. “I DID tease you!”
“You still are,” he grinned.
“How’s that?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Just by being here,” he told her. “You must know how I feel sweetie?”
She simply shrugged her shoulders.
“You’re old enough to be my father,” she muttered, a sexy smile still hanging around that pretty mouth. “You shouldn’t be thinking like that about a schoolgirl!” If she had been in possession of a lollipop right at that moment she would have struck the appropriate pose.
He stared at her – quite at the end of his tether.
“Come here,” he whispered.
She sidled over to him standing right in front of the chair. Raising his hands he cupped both her rear cheeks, behavior that in other circumstances would have signified a degree of retaliatory action, if not some sharp verbal admonishment. Emeline simply stood there.
The sensation of fondling the young girl’s bottom rendered him almost catatonic. In his wildest dreams, nothing could have felt this sexy. That she was just standing there letting him – was more than he dared hope.
So far as Emeline was concerned, to have what amounted to a middle-age man patting and feeling her backside was something of a major arousal factor. Never having had even a boy touch her intimately, this was totally new territory and one she intended to explore further.
Sliding both hands up the back of her skirt however brought forth a soft cry of surprise.
“You really shouldn’t be doing this Mr. Leighton,” she muttered, yet making no move to retreat.
Direct contact with the girl’s panties, the gentle curvature of her bottom, the warmth of her body, all contributed to his burgeoning desire. Given her close proximity now, the girl’s breasts jutted but inches above seated eye-level. What he would have given to be able to suck them right at that moment.
Emeline was breathing hard. She could hardly believe she was allowing this man to molest her like this and yet her body was dictating the pace. She was prepared to go farther she knew!
“Would you sit on my lap Em?” he asked softly, with little hope of her acquiescence.
With no thoughts of the possible consequences, she turned and sat down demurely on his knee – always assuming it’s possible for a hot teenage girl to sit on a forty-plus year old man’s knee demurely! We might need to hold an open debate on that one!
The bad news from Keith Leighton’s point of view is that this took immediate care of his rear-end fondling activities whilst the good news is that he now found himself staring directly over her shoulder and down the sexiest cleavage one could hope to espy in three lifetimes.
Whatever Emeline was expecting next in the way of illicit bodily treatment, being kissed softly on the side of her neck was not on the agenda. The gentlest of “Ohhs” coincided with several ripples of pleasure making their way past her collarbone and on to areas of her body that might best be described as “interesting.” Unable to prevent a gentle squirm, she thought she could feel something that might be considered a work-in-progress beneath her bottom suddenly. “Surely not already?” she thought to herself.
Spare a thought for poor old Keith though. There he was sitting in his bedroom, nothing much to think about except the one hundred and fifteen pounds of sexy schoolgirl perched on his lap. A face-full of fragrant hair addling his senses, a handful of semi-exposed teenage breasts within reach, one curvy little rear-end beneath that mini-skirt, massaging his procreative equipment and the girl’s parents some three-eighty miles distant! What the Hell else could he do but get happy down there?
Tentatively he reached up and cupped her left breast. His brain turned to mush! What purpose in winning Powerball when you could have this instead? he figured. The girl let out a little squeal and the obligatory “nooo” but this was soon rendered obsolete by virtue of his other hand enclosing her right breast additionally. Fondling both of course had a dramatic effect on the playing field, since his gentle squeezing was causing both breasts to bulge prominently out of her bra and into his peripheral line of vision. Her increased respiratory rate simply upped the ante.
Emeline could but stare down her own smooth cleavage. Aroused and embarrassed in equal measure, her body was reacting to stimuli it had never known but had long since wanted to know. She decided to lie back and enjoy it. Turning her head slightly she was neither surprised nor affronted when her partner of more than twice her age, inclined his head and kissed her full on the lips. Whatever message that sent to the rest of her body, restraint certainly wasn’t embedded in the text.
Keith was a man on a mission; though spreading the word in the bowels of Africa was not to be found in his immediate itinerary. Travelling was though – all the way from her upper chest to the hem of that hot little mini-skirt. Before the girl could even muster the breath to yell out “Daddy, where are you?” he had slipped his left hand up where he shouldn’t, and was even now tugging at her hemline to reveal a particularly sexy pair of light orange panties curving down between her legs.
At this she gasped, spluttered and made a really impressive show of trying to drag free his arm. Not too good mind – the last thing she wanted at this stage was to bring about his total surrender – just a warning shot across the bows was her game plan.
Keith was not to be denied though and at the point his fingers made contact with the front of her panties – at quite the naughtiest port of disembarkation if one is to be a realist, her resistance faded into the ether. Any keen observer might even have detected the subtle parting further of her slim legs. Nothing that might cause one to broadcast aloud “Holy Hell – what a slut,” but just enough to maintain interest you might say.
Beginning now to rub the girl’s vaginal area through the silky material, Keith’s mouth was as dry as the Utah salt flats whilst Emeline’s eyes were closed and her hips beginning to wriggle with enforced pleasure.
“Don’t put your hand inside my panties,” she murmured, just on the off-chance he hadn’t planned to.
For a while he had no need to cross that particular bridge. The pressure of his fingers alone on that virginal if not vertical chasm running due south, was sufficient to have the girl sighing with contentment. More than once he detected her thrusting noticeably upwards with her hips, to avail herself of whatever frictional delights were on offer.
“I want you to cum Emmy,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck as he did so. Then in defiance of her words, he slipped his hand beneath the waistline of her panties, parting her hitherto unexplored pubic curls, his middle finger slipping effortlessly into that incalculably hot crevasse beyond. So shocked was the teenager, yet so far down the slipway in terms of sheer arousal, all she could do was part her legs yet wider and place one small hand atop her own panties as he began to penetrate her digitally. A virgin as yet, access was something less than full-screen, still he knew what he was doing and after a few minutes – she did too! Completely unlike anything she had brought off herself, the orgasm radiated outwards from her pussy in concentric circles. Her whole being shook with its tidal progress, her mouth open in silent ecstasy even before her nipples began tingling as the nerve endings transmitted their message of good will to all parts of the body.
For all of two minutes no one uttered a word. Etiquette was responsible for Keith withdrawing his hand from between the girl’s legs and assuming a more modest location linked up with its compatriot around Emeline’s waist. It was fully a minute before she even tugged her skirt back down, thus covering both her panties and the recently occupied crime-zone.
“I can’t believe I let you do that,” she whispered finally.
“Me either,” he replied. “Did it feel good sweetheart?”
Now that did bring a fully-fledged blush to her cheeks. Rather than commit herself, she simply nodded. He wanted right then to cup her breasts again but thought better of it.
“What would you say Emmy if I asked you to take your skirt and top off for me?” He knew he was skirting the edge of likely resistance now…. “Just here in the bedroom – I only want to look at you sweetie.”
Not wishing to be regarded as wholly promiscuous, yet aroused herself way past the point of provocative tease, she disengaged herself from his knee and crossed to the bay window.
“So….you want me to walk around in just my panties and bra for you, right? Nothing else?”
He would have promised her anything at this stage. “Of course honey, that’s all!” he told her.
Standing just to the left of the ornate drapes she looked back at him for a moment. He felt like he was waiting for the video ref to adjudicate on a vital point that might decide the outcome of the match.
With anything but self-assured deliberation, she kicked-off her shoes then reached around and slowly pulled down the zipper on her skirt. It was a sight he would treasure the rest of his life. Wriggling her hips delicately, the item fell to the ground as she stepped out of it. Not that he was watching, his eyes now riveted on her panties or more precisely, that darkened triangular area clearly visible through the sheer material. With a growing confidence and fully aware suddenly just what power a teenage girl’s body has in the presence of the male desperate, she took hold of her top with both hands and raised it slowly over her head, knowing of course that her neighbor had probably observed her doing exactly this on nights past when she was getting ready for bed.
Transfixed as the young girl’s sexy breasts were momentarily highlighted inside their matching orange protector as she lifted her arms, the man felt an intense marshalling of resources between his own legs. This was hardly a sight for sane eyes, he knew.
Thus clad in just her underwear now, Emeline stood there with her arms covering up her chest in time-honored fashion.
“Turn round honey,” he pleaded.
Her compliance stripped away perhaps the last shred of his sanity. Looking as he was now on that provocative semi-undressed young female, sculptured rear-end clad only in those tight figure-hugging panties, flared hips that blended upwards into the curviest of figures. He could so easily have raped her silly and been happy with the twenty-year sentence.
She could feel his lust emanating outwards in waves. Trouble is, it didn’t bother her.
“Take your bra off baby,” he whispered…. “Please!”
She wanted to do it…even before he asked.
Reaching behind her, she located the clasp and the bra was on its way to join the other accoutrements on the floor. He had no need to ask – she turned around to face him, both hands at her sides.
If his mouth was dry before, it was now a case of major dehydration. Staring fixedly at her beautifully developed breasts – though still to reach their full volumetric potential – he could but watch as she brought both hands up to her chest and began idly fondling herself, teasing him unmercifully by gently pulling on both nipples, the resulting effect of which was lost on neither of them.
Probably unaware that in her sexually enlightened condition she was uttering now the occasional sounds herself, the spell was broken only by Keith’s sudden child-like utterance, “Let me take your panties off Emmy. I have to see you naked.”
She neither answered nor rebuked him – simply walked towards his chair slowly.
As if mesmerized herself, she just stood there arms at her side, watching almost dispassionately as he raised his hands to the waistband of her panties before tugging them slowly below knee level towards her ankles. As her pussy was exposed, she gave a soft cry but stood her ground, stepping out of her panties now totally naked.
Just what Keith Leighton’s peristaltic rate was at that second is anyone’s guess. Reduced to gulping air to stay conscious, he meekly asked the girl if she would walk around the room for him.
For some reason quite at ease in his presence and reveling in the effect her nakedness was having on him, she walked to the far wall and back, fully aware that even such limited activity was causing her breasts and nipples to bounce in time with her stride. It wasn’t something Keith had overlooked either! Obviously with a plan to fully disable his emotional gyroscope, she paused near the double bed, bending over sufficiently so that not only her elbows were resting on the coverlet, but her hot little bottom was now taking center-stage in terms of provocative tease.
Uncaring that his erection at this stage was an unmissable viewing option even to an octogenarian with bi-focals, he stood up and crossed the carpet to where Miss Sexy-Cheeks was strutting her possessions better than might Paris Hilton on to her fourth Vodka chaser.
A new sensory delight awaited them both.
He had never really thought about spanking a teenage girl before and most certainly not a naked one. Let’s face it – who ever gets the chance to do so anyway? From Emeline’s viewpoint this was likewise, a scenario quite unimagined, even in some of her hottest and least publishable fantasies. That said, she let out quite a sizeable yelp as his hand impacted quite decisively across her curvy rear end. Truth is, she enjoyed the experience quite as much as her debauched neighbor and despite some minor procrastination, she maintained her submissive stance right through the next half a dozen spanks. The sight of her reddening tail quite tickled his fancy. It was so deliciously naughty!
Speaking of tickling, it cannot be underestimated just how inviting the view is of a girl bent over a bed with her legs slightly apart, as Emeline was right that second. Should she be thus endowed with a light dusting of sexy brown pubic hair, this aspect becomes highly arousing in the short term. Keith was highly aroused already, so this merely tipped his hormones into hyper drive. Pulling up from his seventh spank he thrust a hand up between the girl’s legs and needing little in the way of an exploratory, located and penetrated her vagina with his middle finger. So well lubricated was she, the situation had promise.
“Ohhh” she cried in shocked disbelief, “That’s naughty, Mr. Leighton,” she giggled. “And it’s not nice to spank young girls either you know,” she added with precious little credibility in her voice.
“Call me Keith would you please Emmy?” he sounded hurt. “As for my not being nice, how many teenage girls do you think tease their neighbors stupid by bending over a bed naked and wriggling their tushy in his face? Not too many I’m guessing!”
“Well I can always get dressed and go home,” she teased, pulling his finger out as she turned around to face her tormentor.
“Like Hell you are,” he responded, pushing her backwards so that she fell on to her back on the coverlet. In that instant, both knew where this had always been leading.
“Are you going to rape me?” she asked, more enquiringly than with any degree of concern.
“If you want to leave now Emmy – you are perfectly free to pick your clothes up, go get dressed and hi-tail it back to your home. If you choose to stay though, you’ve got me so damn hot, I think I’m going to fuck you silly – probably all night.”
“I’m still a virgin,” she whispered, looking up at him with genuine consternation.
“Then I guess the question is young lady, do you want to stay one?”
Less than ten seconds passed before she shook her head slowly.
“Before I do anything Emmy,” he whispered with what she knew to be genuine sincerity, “I just want you to know that watching you grow up from a little girl, through your pre-teens right up to the beautiful young lady you are today, I quite lost my heart to you. I know the age difference means nothing can ever come of it, but I love you Em, I always have. If you do this with me tonight, I want you to know it means more to me than you can probably understand. I want you because you’re you, not just because you are such a sexy and desirable young girl……mind you, that does help!” he grinned.
Unsure just how to reply to his words, those pretty blue eyes betrayed her feelings at the point two tears rolled down either cheek. Raising her arms to him she pulled him closer. The ensuing kiss he bestowed on those full lips of hers, made up for a heap of inconsequential dialogue.
Needing to somewhat balance things up clothes-wise, he shucked off his pants and shirt, kneeling beside the prostrate girl in just his boxer shorts. She could hardly fail to notice the coiled serpent within and despite his many years experience in such matters; he felt a little shy in fully disrobing in front of her. As it happened, the girl’s curiosity proved to be a valuable catalyst in the game at hand. Shyly but with committed intent, she thrust her small hand inside his undies whereupon she took a firm hold of his engorged and long-suffering tool of trade. This time the man gasped audibly.
“God Emmy,” he muttered, “Talk about keen to test the merchandise.”
“Will this hurt?” she asked softly, still caressing him.
“Not if we’re careful baby.” He answered. “You’re eighteen now and well I guess you’ve been doing stuff yourself? Right?” She blushed but nodded.
“Yeah well, your hymen is probably pretty stretched now…it shouldn’t be a problem,” he added with what appeared to be a degree of knowledgeable conviction.
She allowed him to part her legs which excited her unbearably even though she knew he was staring, as would any man, at her most private of bodily orifices. He then slipped a pillow beneath her hips and navigated his way between her legs, holding his erection now in front of him. She gasped as he placed the head at her vaginal entrance that she knew was so wet and expectant.
As luck would have it, she felt virtually no pain as he pushed into her on the third attempt. That isn’t to say though that she felt nothing overall however. The sensation of his hardness penetrating her to the depths caused her to cry out in real-time ecstasy. This was pleasure with a capital P, Fucking with a capital F, the onset of sexual freedom.
She was most assuredly staying the night let’s say!
To be continued…
© Peter_Pan 2008
Available in paperback now, the comprehensive anthology “The Best of Peter_Pan” (2007 Lulu Publishing Inc: Morrisville NC)
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