Panties And Pigtails
Author: Ping, Source: LushStories
Her tongue. My ass. That, I did not expect. Especially, not from someone so young. Nor did I anticipate the sticky strawberry lip gloss, the bevy of unripened freckles, or her nearly breast-less, mosquito-bite nipples on an immaturely lean, lightly-tanned body. What was that saying about a carpenter’s dream? I ordered young and cute, but they sent me, life-as-I-know-it ending jailbait. Or so it seemed. “I’m supposed to say sixteen,” she coyly winked as her pudgy cheeks blushed before I asked. “Is that what you like to hear?” It was obvious she had to prove this before. Her yellow-bowed and braided, long blonde pigtails then fell forward when she looked down. She appeared embarrassed, as if she’d just heard penis said aloud for the first time. It was cute. It’s possible that she might have just noticed the inordinate strain in my pants. Or just pretended that she had. Regardless, she played it well. This girl was good. And I now suspected that she was going to be worth every immoral, pre-paid cent. I just had to figure out how I could claim this on my expense account. However, I still inspected my fears, remaining cautiously unconvinced, as she barely stood three quarters the height of my hotel room door. She couldn’t have weighed much more either. I assumed these Scandinavian cuties ate more. Maybe it was a work thing. Or maybe, something else. Her presentation led me to suspect the latter. Her questionable, but allegedly proven youth, made me as nervous as I was aroused, and my heart pounded hard like my acquiescent cock had become. I couldn’t believe my... luck ? While I cast my eyes through her yellow but translucent cotton sundress, the tiny thing calmly rolled both feet outward onto her ankles, as one might expect she could. The late hour setting sun filtered through a nearby window, easily outlining her beckoning shape and its small gap between her thighs, as it’s rays backlit her young body. Her sock-less feet effortlessly held that vulnerable stance in white canvas, bunny-eared laced shoes while her glitter-painted fingers impatiently fidgeted for something to do. This petite Nordic mouse then meekly squeaked again. “Do you not like me,” her accent pouted while slightly lifting her head to reveal her twinkling blue eyes. “Am I too ugly for you?” Not in the least. She might actually be my death, which today I’d gladly accept. My libido pressed play and I walked to her, ignoring that she’d probably lured many others with that look and those lines. It really didn’t matter. “No, you’re perfect,” I smiled down while lifting her chin with the soft side of my fingertips. “You’re better than perfect.” Her smile instantly melted any of my remaining inhibitions. She moved quickly, taking my hand in hers. Her fingers felt unnaturally small as she led me to the bed. She then stood before me as I sat back onto the edge of the mattress. Our eyes were now about level. “Would you like me to dance for you?” she asked like an excited school girl begging to ...