Onyx2daBone
Virgin
- Joined
- Apr 29, 2016
- Posts
- 4
This is the beginning of a short series I'm considering for Literotica. It should be around 4 parts in all. I'd appreciate any feedback, critical or complimentary.
Sammy So Young (sample)
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He saw her little bush for the umpteenth time. Roe always forced himself to focus on her bush, cause the fat pussy, sitting so moist and ready underneath, screamed that it was worth the risk of getting his black ass killed, just for a taste . . . a sniff. She was eating ice cream, something so usual in the summertime. But it was chocolate this time and the color made Roe feel more positive about his chances.
The heat was making it impossible for the kid to keep from making a mess. It looked like she had given up the fight for cleanliness a long time ago--the ice cream dripped out of the cone, down, as it did many times before, between her chubby little tits. And she always went out with those two things so hilariously exposed behind a white tank-top, and a crappy, cheap-looking bra that was way to tight for what she had, and way too sheer for a kid her age. Roe imagined that most nineteen-year-old girls of the day probably didn't have much of that "how to be a lady" in them. And her stubby, pink and bursting nipples made him nod to a lack of education.
Summertime was also kind enough to keep the kid in flip-flops all the time, every . . . single . . . day. She always wore a different pair, the uniqueness told by the sandal's thongs and their varied colors. They were maroon this time in particular, stuck between her little big-toes, the toenails pink, never clashing, never matched. It was a sign of maturity--that ability to recognize the benefit of contrasts. But the girl was still young-minded enough to keep a silly hook of coordination going between both pairs of her lips.
The ones on her face had been done ridiculously--messy, some lipstick remaining on the tip of her nose, other bits of it melted, racing down in pink streams, flowing over chocolate rivers, out of her mouth, down her chin, leaving artistic stains on her tank-top. Nasty little bitch, she looked so clean everywhere, but seemed to get off on being dirty, offending anyone who cared too much about cleanliness. And the mess that was dripping between her breasts had somehow managed to make it through the absorbent obstructions of her top, sneak past the rim of her jean-skirt and reveal itself, in oh so slowly moving streams of candy and cosmetics, running over the left lip of her pussy.
Sammy So Young (sample)
-------------------------------
He saw her little bush for the umpteenth time. Roe always forced himself to focus on her bush, cause the fat pussy, sitting so moist and ready underneath, screamed that it was worth the risk of getting his black ass killed, just for a taste . . . a sniff. She was eating ice cream, something so usual in the summertime. But it was chocolate this time and the color made Roe feel more positive about his chances.
The heat was making it impossible for the kid to keep from making a mess. It looked like she had given up the fight for cleanliness a long time ago--the ice cream dripped out of the cone, down, as it did many times before, between her chubby little tits. And she always went out with those two things so hilariously exposed behind a white tank-top, and a crappy, cheap-looking bra that was way to tight for what she had, and way too sheer for a kid her age. Roe imagined that most nineteen-year-old girls of the day probably didn't have much of that "how to be a lady" in them. And her stubby, pink and bursting nipples made him nod to a lack of education.
Summertime was also kind enough to keep the kid in flip-flops all the time, every . . . single . . . day. She always wore a different pair, the uniqueness told by the sandal's thongs and their varied colors. They were maroon this time in particular, stuck between her little big-toes, the toenails pink, never clashing, never matched. It was a sign of maturity--that ability to recognize the benefit of contrasts. But the girl was still young-minded enough to keep a silly hook of coordination going between both pairs of her lips.
The ones on her face had been done ridiculously--messy, some lipstick remaining on the tip of her nose, other bits of it melted, racing down in pink streams, flowing over chocolate rivers, out of her mouth, down her chin, leaving artistic stains on her tank-top. Nasty little bitch, she looked so clean everywhere, but seemed to get off on being dirty, offending anyone who cared too much about cleanliness. And the mess that was dripping between her breasts had somehow managed to make it through the absorbent obstructions of her top, sneak past the rim of her jean-skirt and reveal itself, in oh so slowly moving streams of candy and cosmetics, running over the left lip of her pussy.
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