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Parpol
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 The Gospel of Loliguard This story is not safe for work and contains teh ezsex with women.- Spoiler: show
- I used to be normal. Not like you guys. I had SI swimsuit posters on my walls, often enjoyed the sweet glow of redtube.com and generally only had eyes for women sporting large breasts and matured bodies. (un)Fortunately, fate had other plans for me.
Several years ago I got a summer job as a lifeguard for a community swimming pool. Lifeguard jobs are pretty fantastic, and landing one usually guarantees an easy summer. The pool itself wasn’t as much of a shitshow as I’d expected from the address. It's regulation sized (weirdly nice for the mostly run-down complex it's part of) and had four lifeguard towers situated two to a side, evenly spaced. I only remember this because I was assigned to the side where the sun was always in my fucking eyes.
I don't really know how to lifeguard, as in I do not have my certification, but the landlady told me it didn't matter. In all the time she had owned the pool there hadn't been a single emergency, and she was as well insured as a cautious Jew usually is. If you need it spelled out further, she also neglected to repair the elevator because, and I quote, "settling out of court is cheaper than having that piece of shit overhauled." I made significantly less than minimum wage, was expected to do things not formally included in my job description (such as waxing her car) but I stuck with the job because of the primary expected perk; girls in bathing suits.
At first I found almost no girls near my age or even within my age range of interest. The majority of the complex’s tenants were fifty or older, and as such the occupants of the pool were either saggy, old and weary-eyed or young, loud and wild. You could spot the two types even more easily because the old fatties always resigned themselves to the hot tub while their crotchspawn ran around the pool (despite the sign) screaming at the top of their lungs. A few fall and cry, but when they notice that their parents are too busy distributing PBR from a Nascar cooler to pay attention they pick themselves up and resume running.
If this sounds cynical, that’s because it is. I wasn't really much for women at that time. But that was going to change soon, oh so soon. Because, finally, I met Abby. I would later find out that her car-dealing father had been screwed out of his fortune when he divorced his second wife. Abby was the one thing that the jury saw fit to award him because she was conceived by his first wife. Of course, I didn't know any of that when I first met her. To me, she was just a gangly blonde girl wading hip deep at the edge of the pool, looking up at me with her big green eyes. I noticed her waiting there some day, as if expecting me to do a song and dance number. All she did was show up and look at me. Okay, in reality this went on for three days, but it still weirded me out.
It was at the end of the third day that I decided to do something about it. I know, patience is clearly my strong suit. She showed up some time around two in the afternoon and settled into her spot. I looked her square in the eyes. Then I looked over at the pump shed. Then back at her. Then at the pump shed. I did this until I saw the look of realization come over her face, followed by a sly grin. After climbing down from my perch, I did my best to look inconspicuous as I walked over to the pump shed and slipped inside. Why was I trying to meet up with this obviously totally legal girl within my place of work? I dunno. Let’s blame it on the absurd levels of boredom I experienced that summer. Here was something happening. Maybe I was going to make a friend. Maybe we would...well... College kids sometimes don’t think with their heads.
I waited. A minute went by. And then another. Had she misunderstood? Just as I was considering leaving, she popped in and shut the door behind her. "What took you?" I whispered. "I had to wait a bit. If we went in one right after the other, it would look weird." She had a point. Here was a girl who could be no older than old enough, and she clearly outdid me on street smarts.
“Who are you? Why do you keep showing up and doing that thing?" She blinked. "What thing?" "Staring at me!" I exclaimed, a bit louder than I had intended. She explained to me that she was home schooled by her father and that I was the most entertaining thing she knew of. I reddened. "What, I’m amusing you?" She laughed and poked me in the stomach. Or almost did, fingertips barely brushing me. "You're the only cute boy I ever get to see. My dad took away my magazines." (I'll admit porn was the first thing that came to mind until I thought of rags like 'Seventeen'. Shudder.)
"So go make friends with one of the boys out there. They don't look so bad." Her nose wrinkled. "They're annoying. All they care about are monster cards and videogames. And they don't want to talk about anything that I like." I found myself becoming genuinely interested in the conversation. I had arranged the impromptu meeting to defuse what I felt could become an awkward situation, but the more I listened to her talk, the more I empathized with her. I peeked around the edge of the door. Her father was alone in the hot tub, draped over the edge like a dead seal. Surrounding him were empty cans of whatever off-brand beer he had decided to desecrate himself with that day. Satisfied that we had time to spare, I began to get to know her.
Like I said before, her dad was a "riches to rags" story. The average all-American bumblefuck who fell ass-backwards into money before shortly thereafter losing it all because he thought with his dick. He was living out of room 121, one of the smaller rooms in the place (the room numbers denote the floor they're on as well as the size. The first digit is the floor number and the last two indicate somehow whether it's a one or two room suite.) According to Abby (who had finally decided to introduce herself after a mere three days of pool-stalking) his modus operandi entailed construction work by day and gambling at night. This left Abby without much to do, as she wasn't allowed to leave the complex, meaning basically her apartment and the pool. Perhaps the beginning of my descent into perversion, it then dawned on me that she was home alone for a pretty hefty chunk of every week.
Our heads snapped upward in unison when we heard her father call. Resembling the amorous mating bellow of a water buffalo, his summons saw her up on her feet with a swiftness that suggested fear of discipline. "I have to go! I'll be here tomorrow and probably on Saturday too!" Before I could respond, she kissed me on the cheek and bolted for the back door. I heard yelling, followed by the chirpy but unintelligible voice that I knew was hers, concocting some pacifying lie about where she had been moments prior. It would have been easy for him to storm into the shed and find me hiding there like a sitting duck, but if he had any suspicions regarding his daughter's explanation he didn't act on them. I waited until I could see him entering the complex before I left the shed.
The next day we repeated our rendezvous, this time on more familiar terms. She had shown up because she had what I believed to be a harmless crush on me. I showed up because whether or not I would admit it, I had really enjoyed the feeling of her soft little lips against my stubbly cheek. We did the slumber party dealie, with truth or dare and nearly an hour of telling each other our condensed life stories. I don't know what compelled me to open up to her, but something about her bright, attentive eyes made me feel as though for once I had an interested audience for which to perform. I may have boasted a little here and there but for the most part I gave her an accurate account of how I had spent my life up until that point, and I could sense her hanging on my every word. Yes, forever alone finally meets someone who pays attention to him. I’m a fucking loser and I know it.
When I glossed over my first experiences with girls, she started to hound me for details. I still had some self respect at this point and didn't really relish the idea of relating my sexual conquests to a tween, but I played through, and the descriptions left her literally panting. I began to ask her to reciprocate when she leaned forward on me (I guess 'pounced' would be the word), her arms around my neck and her face an inch or so from mine. "Do you think I'm pretty?" Her face was red and her breathing was hard and fast. "I...think you'll be a very pretty girl. Some day." She started to sort of wriggle against me. It took me a moment to figure out she was clumsily attempting to dry-hump my legs, never having seen it done right before. Despite my best efforts, I found myself fully erect in under a minute. Or more accurately in ten seconds. There's something about the slender, warm body of a girl wriggling against yours that I (now) believe no man can resist.
I kept thinking I had to tell her to stop. You know how you can convince yourself that if you found a hundred bucks in a wallet you would return it to its rightful owner, but when you find a wallet you pocket the cash? People are good at believing in their own morality, but when the time comes to choose between personal pleasure and doing the “right thing”, people choose pleasure. That's my rationalization, anyways. All that to say I didn't stop her. I lay there quietly getting to orgasm along with her. Well, I came first. By quite a bit. But I enjoyed the hell out of watching her catch up. When she finished I just sort of lay there with her on top of me, both of us breathing heavily. "It's not really wrong," I thought, "I didn't technically DO anything. You might say SHE molested ME."
I showed up the next day with a grin on my face, expecting a repeat. Of course she wasn't there, and I spent the next few days not paying attention (lol go ahead and drown, suckers) daydreaming about the sex we'd had. It counted as sex, I figured, because we had both gotten off. That brought the number of notches in my belt up to six. Of course thinking of her as a "notch in my belt" was just a way for me to ignore the fact that I had enjoyed sexual contact with a fully grown woman.. Okay, I’ll be honest about her age, which I finally knew at that point. █ . She was █ years old, and I had let her dry-hump me to climax. I knew that if anyone ever found out it meant my young life would already be over, and I didn’t enjoy thinking down that path. Rather than worry about the implications, I sat on my little wooden tower for two straight days fantasizing about Abby.
Finally, Saturday. I appeared to be doing my job, scanning the pool intently as though ready to save lives. Of course I was just looking for Abby. I finally spotted her, dwarfed next to her father. I did my best to look uninterested while they approached, eventually parting ways. Abby’s dad headed for the hot tub with his beer, and I wrote him off for the next four hours. Abby and I met in the normal spot. Being young and stupid, I spilled my guts. I told her how I had been thinking about her for days, and how what we had done before made me feel a little weird, but that I had enjoyed it more than I had ever enjoyed sex before. She seemed a little surprised and hurt that I had been with girls other than her, but apparently realizing that it was because of my age, she said nothing. We spent the first few minutes talking excitedly about our last visit, and eventually hormones took over and we kissed. It had been forever since I had enjoyed her lips, so I let myself lose control and explore her mouth the way I had been wanting to for nearly a week. The first difference I noticed between her and my exes was that her mouth itself was smaller, and her lips were fuller. If you’re imagining Chloe Moretz...yeah, sort of like that. I gently bit one, and she made this passionate sigh / yelp that did more to arouse me than sound ought to.
I felt something cold and wet on my stomach and started to draw back, then noticed that she was running her hands up my torso. I am not super muscular, but weight training was a mandatory gym credit in high school so my stomach had decent definition. By that I mean to say I definitely do lift bro. Stomach muscles were something new and wonderful to her, and for the first time I felt like my marginal fitness was good for something other than posting on /fit/. She looked up at me and made a wordless gesture with her head, which I took as an invitation to kiss her more. While I resumed pressing my mouth into her small, soft lips, she ran her gradually warming hands over my stomach and chest. I didn't realize the psychological line that touching her represented until I crossed it. I put my hands on her cool, wet thighs, and it hit me. I was enjoying this too much. More than with any other girl in my past, even. This was me. It's who I was, and am. I won't say it is my sexual orientation but it is at least a fetish for me, and a powerful one. Even just sliding my big warm hands along her long, thin, firm little legs did more to excite me than the entire act of sex ever had with any ex.
I suppose I owe you a description. Abby was perhaps 5'2", tall and thin for her age. She had a butt that was fairly flat, barely bubbling out at all. Not to say it wasn’t fantastic. Firm, round and resembling two ovoid shapes leaning against each other at the tops when viewed from behind, she had the picture-perfect ass you normally only see on swimsuit models. To top it off, her legs were thin enough that she had "the gap". You know, that little empty space between her legs at the very top, where they meet her pelvis? Oh, how I loved that spot. I'll tell you why in a bit. Her hair was long and dirty blonde (her father had black hair. I presume her mother had full blonde) and her eyes were a dark, rich shade of green. Her waist was thin, her stomach flat and taut, and her chest was as flat as a board. Her skin was also worth mentioning, simply because it was completely smooth and free of acne or any other kind of marks, except for a few moles. It's easy to forget how perfect skin can be until you see someone like Abby.
Like two horny teenagers (which I guess we were, if you averaged our ages and divided by 2) we fumbled with each other. At this point we were standing in anticipation of undressing, and it dawned on me to finally feel the ass that had been tantalizing me all this time. As I gently kissed her and she moved to caress my back, I put my right hand behind her and clutched her gently. She gasped, looking up at me for a moment before pursing her little pink lips into a coy smile. It became a game of one-upsmanship, a contest of daring to distract us from our nervousness. She slid her hands into my trunks and grabbed my butt. I took that as a go-ahead to do the same, and found myself overwhelmed with the sensation of squeezing two of the smoothest, firmest ass-cheeks I have ever had the privilege of getting my hands on. Of course they were a little small and I already have Xbox sized hands so it took a little positioning to cup them in such a way that my fingernails didn't dig into the crease where her butt met her legs, but she was apparently too busy going to town on me to care. I stepped back and slipped out of my trunks. She stood there, shocked. I felt pretty manly until I realized it probably had nothing to do with size. This was likely the first penis she had ever seen. Or, well, that’s wishful thinking probably. She took her time and got an eyeful before she began to untie her bottom.
It was one of those fashionable bikinis where the bottom is tied shut at the left and right hip. The mood declined a bit and we had a brief laugh as she spent the better part of a minute fiddling with the ties before she gave up and just pulled them down. She stepped out of her bottoms and went to work on her top while I stood there, hypnotized. There, nestled in her sweet little gap, was the most beautiful bald pussy you can imagine. No visible labia, plump, puffy pink lips, and not a wisp of hair. She had a very slightly prominent pubic mound that framed her vagina nicely, and I can honestly say that while a great many girls have an unpleasant 'situation' down there, hers was as close to flawless as I've ever seen.
I snapped out of it when the top came off. Prior to my..."awakening", I was a boob man. Abby made a persuasive argument for the superiority of delicious flat chest. Remember when I told you how flat she was? Well I left out her nipples. They weren't obscenely large (about the size of quarters) but they stood out by perhaps a third of an inch, forming little pink cones.
We stood there admiring each other until I got the sense that she simply didn't know what to do, and I took the initiative. I circled around behind her, slipping my right hand around her waist and tucking it into her crotch. With my left hand I played with her nipples, while licking, kissing and biting her neck and ears. Eventually it got the best of her. She relaxed, and became weak in the knees. I took the opportunity to position my member between her legs, saddled right up against the slit between her legs. She closed her legs in silent understanding, sandwiching my erect penis in her 'gap'. I began to grind, and the sensation was beyond belief, my massively erect member pushing gently against those oh-so-soft, so inviting, so perfect lips.
Things got a little noisier than I had planned for, but never so bad as to give us away. I could tell it was difficult for her, too. I've always been quiet during sex but while I couldn't see her face, I could hear her muffled, broken breathing that told me she was doing her best to keep her mouth closed. She put her hands against the wall and leaned forward, her hind end jutting up in the air as though beckoning me to penetrate. It came as a huge disappointment to both of us, but she was simply not developed enough to accommodate my penis. Believe me I tried, but despite the natural lube she was supplying in generous quantity, the fucking thing just wouldn't fit. The opening itself was extremely narrow, like it hadn't developed completely. I don't know if this is typical of girls my age age, but when she realized I wasn’t going to be able to penetrate her she was on the verge of tears.
Knowing this sort of bodily insecurity would lead to an hero, I kissed away her tears and told her that there was nothing wrong with her. This was actually the truth, too. I mean, assuming that the narrow vagina thing was normal. I told her, perhaps prematurely, that I was falling in love with her. That seemed to be the magic ticket. She threw herself at me, pinning me against the wall all hot and sweaty, and wrapped her legs back around my penis. We were facing each other now, me up against the wall of the shed and her faux-humping me, using the friction of her legs and pussy lips on the shaft of my Penis to get both of us off. We came within seconds of each other, me tensing up and biting my lip and her shuddering violently and letting out a loud whimper. My cum ran down the back of her legs as we caught our breath, embracing one another as evenly as we could given the large difference in our heights. If what we did before wasn’t sex...well...this definitely was.
After that, she got into a regular habit of visiting my room when her father was away. I could detail those encounters as well, though I think I'll save them for another thread. You're not really missing much, we didn’t do all that much more, despite vigorous attempts. I still see her from time to time and we talk online now and then. She's about the right age now, and I really miss those legs....and that ass....oh man, and the gap. The gap, my /b/rothers.
So how does the story end? Well as I said, this series of incidents more or less converted me. I couldn't see a fit, pretty girl around █ without associating her with my experiences with Abby and getting an insta-boner. This didn't really pose a problem as I'm sure most other men already react the same way, but my newfound appreciation with young women came back to bite me later that summer when I was on duty at the pool.
Here's what happened: I was sitting there doing my regular routine of checking out hot girls instead of working when, for the first time in the entire history of that pool, someone actually needed my help. I swim as well as a brick, but the emergency was in my partition of the pool so I leapt into action without thinking about it. Luckily it's only four feet deep on my end, so I was able to essentially walk to the distressed patron. It was a girl, maybe █ years old wearing a one-piece that did a particularly bad job at hiding the various curves and crevices of her body. I was a little too aware of this as I carried her up out of the pool, and it was only when I didn't receive a hero’s welcome that I realized what was wrong. The other lifeguards, the girl's parents and a handful of spectators stood quietly, staring at my swimsuit. I was holding a █ year old girl in my arms and sporting the biggest and most obvious boner in the history of inopportune erections.
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My Pixiv
- Spoiler: show
- OLD VERSION, BITCHES!
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