{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in August 2007 }
It is 1943, and it has been more than a year since Evelyn Johnson’s husband went away to the war…
Evelyn could hear them even before they pushed through the big double doors at the front of the store, a lot of chatter, female voices, excited, expectant.
Saturday mornings in the Woolworths were never very busy — a few ladies in for yarn or other mending stocks, snotty-nosed kids with no money to spend, the teenagers didn’t show up at the soda fountain until well after the noon hour. So it broke the monotony, having a group like this come in.
“White trash,” Evelyn thought with some distaste, as they swept through the door in a chattering mass. “Probably not a nickel between them.”
But she welcomed the distraction and maneuvered, in her practiced way, to intersect their path down the center isle of the store.
There were four of them, a woman and three girls who looked to range between maybe 9 and 14 or 15 years of age.
Evelyn did her best to sound polite as she walked up. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked quickly looking over the girls, then making direct eye contact with the woman.
“Why, yes,” the woman answered quickly. “My sister going to be wed and my two girls here are going to need dresses. We’ve money to spend and we’re looking for something nice.”
Then, as if it were a bothersome afterthought, the woman added, “And something for the young one here too, but nothing fancy there, mind you.”
“I understand completely,” Evelyn responded.
She felt a little flicker of something spark up inside her as she turned to size up the youngest of the three girls for the first time. She was a tall, slender girl, but clearly no more than 9, maybe 10. She had short-cut bangs across her forehead that made her look almost boyish, and shoulder-length brown hair that undoubtedly had not seen a brush or comb that day.
The poor girl looked and obviously felt out of place. She blushed and retreated from Evelyn’s gaze, lowering her eyes. She was the poorest dressed of the group as well. Her light cotton smock was thin and threadbare in places.
The girl was definitely pretty but that wasn’t immediately obvious on this Saturday morning, with her peasant dress and her unbrushed hair. She was just another poor little waif from Podunk.
Evelyn turned her head and called out.
“Oh Mrs. Thurston,” she said, waving to her assistant. “Mrs. Thurston, can you help this lady…” she hesitated, turning to the woman.
“Mildred, Mildred Tanner,” the woman filled in.
“Ah, Mrs. Tanner, she’s looking for dresses for the girls here,” Evelyn continued. “If you can help her with the older girls, I will find something in the children’s section for this little one.”
The group dispersed, with Evelyn leading the youngest girl off to the children’s section. She sized the girl up quickly with her eyes, and remembering the woman’s words, “nothing too fancy there, mind you” she selected a couple of appropriately sized dresses off the sale rack, and then led the youngster into the change room in the corner.
She could hear the woman, Mrs. Thurston, and the other two girls gabbing away down the back of the store as she closed the door to the change room, which doubled as a bit of a broom closet and storage room. There was a hook on the wall and a chair in the corner. Evelyn yanked the chain on the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, then hung the new dresses on the hook, sat down on the wooden chair and reached out for the young girl’s hand.
“And before we get started, why don’t you tell me your name,” she prompted the girl.
“Um, Rebecca,” the girl responded in a nervous whisper.
“Ah Rebecca, that’s a nice name,” Evelyn said. “And how old are you, Rebecca?”
“Nine,” the girl murmured softly.
“And is that your mam out there?” the woman asked.
“No, that’s my Aunt Mildred,” the girl replied. “My ma died last year.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Evelyn said, squeezing the girl’s hand gently in hers. “And those gals are your cousins?”
Rebecca nodded.
“And what about your pa, where’s your pa?” Evelyn asked.
“Um, he’s in the army,” the girl said.
“Oh I see, so you have to live with your aunt until he comes home?” the woman said.
The girl nodded again.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Evelyn asked.
Rebecca shook her head no.
“Well, do you know what?” the woman asked with a warm smile.
“What?” the girl asked.
“You and I have something in common,” Evelyn said. “Because my husband is away in the army too and I miss him.”
The girl smiled.
“And you know, I think girls like us need to take care of each other until our men come home, don’t you,” Evelyn said softly, smiling at the youngster.
She hadn’t really meant anything by the statement. It was simply said in kindness, but as the words left her mouth, Evelyn found herself surprised at the level of intimacy they suggested.
Both of them blushed.
“Well, here,” Evelyn said, turning Rebecca around. “Enough girl-talk, let’s see if one of these pretty dresses will fit you.”
The girl was like putty, allowing the woman to position her, standing there obediently as Evelyn’s adult fingers plucked at the buttons on the back of her thin summer smock, undoing each of them.
Evelyn watched with detached interest as the material of the girl’s dress parted, exposing the naked skin of her back — soft, white, unblemished skin.
“There we go,” Evelyn said softly. “We’ll just get this off of you, and then we can try on something new.”
The woman reached out and slipped both her hands under the open flaps of Rebecca’s dress, laying her palms gently onto the soft skin of the girl’s back, moving them upward and out, letting the backs of her fingers sweep the shoulder straps of that smock down onto the 9-year-old’s upper arms.
The woman flinched unexpectedly. Had she done that on purpose — put her hands on the girl? She didn’t think so. But here she was with her fingertips still registering the soft, warm skin of the girl’s upper arms, touching it, feeling it.
She gasped nervously as the material of the smock loosened on its own and then fell, dropping into a heap on the floor around the girl’s ankles.
At 28 years old, Evelyn did not have children of her own. They had been thinking about it, but then the war came and her husband, who was a doctor, was called to service.
So, though Evelyn did not have any experience dressing and undressing children, certainly it couldn’t be a difficult task. But something about this situation, taking this little girl’s clothes off, didn’t feel quite right.
The woman bent over to help the girl lift her feet out of the circle of her dress on the floor, and in doing so her cheek grazed by the loose material of Rebecca’s faded white bloomers, close but not touching. There was something, a soft girlish scent perhaps, wisping through her, evoking something, what — a memory?
Evelyn turned her head slightly, her eyes drawn irresistibly to Rebecca’s body and to the threadbare material of her bloomers, just inches away, seeing the things she could see — the girlish softness of her tummy, the precocious roundness of her young bum… so close. The woman closed her eyes momentarily as she found herself imagining the things she couldn’t see — cute, soft, naked things.
There was a ticklish feeling growing inside her, a tantalizing, lewd, unnatural feeling, a feeling that adults are not supposed to experience while they’re undressing a child.
She struggled to regain her composure as she lifted the girl’s discarded smock and turned to hang it over the back of the chair she was sitting on.
When she turned back, the girl was facing her, standing there naked but for those faded white bloomers, her arms crossed modestly in front of her, her little hands placed over the tiny circles of her girlish nipples, hiding them from the woman.
Evelyn’s adult lips parted, releasing a soft, nervous gasp.
Those eyes, those big, sad, brown eyes — it was like looking into the girl’s heart, seeing her loneliness, seeing her fragility.
“It’s okay,” she whispered softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
It was a strange thing to say, but seemed appropriate.
“Don’t be shy, let me look at you,” she whispered, reaching out for the girl’s hands, tugging gently, coaxing them downward off her young chest.
The girl let her hands fall obediently to her sides, letting the woman see her like that, standing there in her underwear, letting Evelyn see the undeveloped flatness of her girlish chest and the tiny pink circles of her naked little nipples.
The woman felt a completely unexpected flush of warmth between her adult legs as she looked at the little girl standing in front of her, letting her eyes browse their way down that nearly naked body, coming to rest on those faded white bloomers.
It was strange. Her adult cunt was waking up as she looked at the girl. She found herself oddly, silently cursing the girl’s underwear, wishing it away.
She didn’t understand where it was coming from, but she was actually struggling with an almost overwhelming temptation to continuing undressing the child, to reach out and gently peel away that last thin veil of girlish modesty.
Evelyn was experiencing an unexplainable and irresistible desire to see this lonely little waif, this poor, fragile little white girl, in her most vulnerable state. She wanted to look into those lonely eyes and see the girl’s confusion and uncertainty as she realized that she’d just been stripped naked, and that she was all alone with a complete stranger, with no one to protect her, with all of her girlish charms exposed and available.
Evelyn’s eyes focused intently on the front of the girl’s bloomers, trying to see through them. She found herself forming a very naughty mental image, imagining the puffy shape and the creamy texture of the 9-year-old’s immature little cunt, so soft, so pretty, and so close, barely hidden there under the thin, faded material of her underwear-like a sexy little treasure waiting to be discovered.
How long did she stare? She didn’t know. But it was long enough for her adult cunt to respond to that very naughty mental image, heating up, releasing a preparatory flush of warm lubricant into her vaginal canal, anticipating… anticipating what?
Evelyn was shocked. It was almost unthinkable, but there was no denying it. She was a very attractive, very married, healthy, 28-year-old woman. She was in the cramped change room of the local Woolworths store where she worked. She was all alone with a pretty little 9-year-old. She had just removed the girl’s thin summer dress, and now she was thinking about stripping the girl naked.
But what shocked Evelyn to the core of her being, what seemed so completely unnatural, was that through it all, she had become very aroused –sexually aroused. Under the light material of her own summer dress, hidden inside the confines of her own underwear, she could feel the ultra-sensitive knob of her womanly clitoris, swollen with blood, stiffening up. The lips of her mature vagina were flushed and wet. Her adult cunt was humming softly, whispering to her, suggesting some naughty things that a grown woman might do if she found herself all alone with a very willing and very naked little girl — lewd, wicked, things…sexual things.
Evelyn was in heat, and the object of her sexual desire was standing there nearly naked in front of her, defenseless and available.
She let her eyes flirt slowly back up the child’s body, making no attempt to hide her desire. She wanted the girl to know. She wanted to look into those big brown eyes and communicate the lewd intimacy of what she was thinking, what she was feeling, what she wanted.
Their eyes locked, and something passed between them. The girl blushed nervously and looked away.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Evelyn reassured her. “I don’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that you are a very pretty girl, as pretty as a princess, and you deserve to be treated like one.”
The girl seemed puzzled, like she was trying to understand something, but she looked back at the woman, blushing nervously at compliment.
“And if you were my girl,” Evelyn said in a serious whisper, “I would buy you much prettier dresses than these.”
Evelyn reached out and tenderly placed her fingers on the girl’s cheek, brushing her hair back off her face. Rebecca blushed but made no attempt to shy away from the woman’s touch.
“Do you know what?” Evelyn asked.
Rebecca shook her head.
“I think we are going to become wonderful friends,” the woman said softly. “But first we need to talk your Aunt Millie into buying you a dress.”
As she helped Rebecca into one of the pretty new dresses, Evelyn could not resist the temptation to touch. It was simply too easy, like taking candy from a baby, and it felt so irresistibly good — letting the tips of her slender feminine fingers flirt with the 9-year-old’s body, tracing up the soft naked skin of her young thighs, grazing lightly over the thin texture of her underwear, dancing over the curve of her cute little bum, touching it, feeling it, slipping up over the naked skin of her flat chest, making fleeting contact with one of those tiny pink nipples.
Evelyn felt the girl’s body twitch nervously with each purposeful touch of her fingers. She was definitely giving in to her naughty desires, taking advantage of the situation, taking intimate liberties with youngster’s body, touching it, but she was also testing the girl, and herself.
She could sense Rebecca’s shyness and her nervousness, but there seemed to be no reluctance in her, no tendency to retreat from the intimate touch of her adult fingers.
The woman teased herself with the idea of going further, of maybe “accidentally” slipping her adult fingers into that space between the little girl’s legs, pressing them up against the material of her underwear, feeling the puffy shape of that tiny little cunt, rubbing it gently…
Evelyn managed to snap herself out of her fantasy before she went too far. Her mind was racing. Her irresistible desire for the girl had almost overwhelmed her, and that was dangerous. The truth was, as much she desired this little waif, she had absolutely no idea how Rebecca might respond to a sexual advance from her. ‘Her mother’s dead,’ the woman thought to herself. ‘Her father’s away in the war and may never return. Her vulgar aunt has her own daughters to worry about. This pretty little waif is probably starving for the touch of someone who cares, someone who could make her feel pretty and special, someone who would love her.’
But how? It was true, she had the 9-year-old stripped nearly naked in the change room but there simply wasn’t enough time. Could there possibly be another way, somehow, somewhere else?
Evelyn reluctantly pulled up the zipper on the back of the pretty new dress, turned the girl to face the full-length mirror on the back of the door, and knelt behind her on the floor, ever-conscious of the fact that in few minutes, this little darling was going to walk out of the store, and out of her life.
“Beautiful,” Evelyn whispered in the girl’s ear, smiling warmly.
And the girl did look good, in spite of the unbrushed state of her hair. It was a cheap dress but it was a nice one, with a pretty floral pattern, and it fit perfectly.
The two of them examined their reflections in the mirror — an unkempt but pretty little girl, with a very attractive grown woman kneeling behind her, both of them smiling, getting to know each other.
Evelyn put her hands on Rebecca’s shoulders, leaned down, and planted a tender kiss on the bare skin of the girl’s neck. The girl blushed.
“Okay,” Evelyn whispered. “Let’s take this to your aunt and see if she approves.”
Mrs. Thurston appeared to have scored on her front. The woman was smiling and her two daughters were each holding onto new dresses.
The woman looked the 9-year-old up and down, with a skeptical, disapproving look.
“How much?” was all she said.
“Ah, this is a dress from our sale rack in the children’s section,” Evelyn explained. “It’s on sale for two dollars and 49 cents.”
“$2.49,” the woman exclaimed. “You must have something cheaper.”
Evelyn forced a smile onto her face. “Mrs. Tanner, may I speak with you privately?”
The woman looked surprised, but nodded.
Mrs. Thurston took her cue and led the two older girls away, over toward the cash register.
“Perhaps it’s more than you intended to spend, but the dress really does suit the girl,” Evelyn said. “I wonder if I might have a solution for you.”
“I’m listening,” the woman replied skeptically.
“Well you see, my husband is away in the war,” Evelyn explained. “I am alone in a very large house and with not much time on my hands because it’s necessary for me to work here, to make ends meet financially.”
The woman nodded, waiting with a hint of impatience for the part of this story that might be of any interest to her.
“Well, as I said,” Evelyn continued. “It’s a very large house and I’m simply beside myself trying to hold down this job and tend to my duties at home, the cleaning and such.”
“Oh I don’t hire out,” the woman blurted. “My husband wouldn’t have it.”
“Oh no, I wasn’t thinking of you,” Evelyn explained, turning to point at the 9-year-old. “I was thinking of the girl here, I think she would be of some help to me. I can pay you appropriately, of course.”
“Really?” the woman responded with a level of cynicism in her voice.
“Yes,” Evelyn continued. “It would only be one day a week, maybe two if I need to do a big cleaning, enough to allow me to keep up with things. I could pay you a dollar each time. That way you would quickly recover the cost of this dress. In fact I could pay for the dress myself now, in lieu of the girl’s future work, of course.”
“Really, you’d pay a dollar a day for this girl?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” Evelyn replied.
“For her?” the woman added skeptically.
“Yes,” Evelyn assured the woman. “For her.”
“You wouldn’t want one of my older girls instead?” the woman asked.
“No no, this one will be fine,” Evelyn replied. “She has a nice temperament, providing she’s not shy from housework.”
“Oh she does her share, and then some,” the woman said. “No lazy brats in my house.”
“Well, good, it’s set then,” Evelyn said, pleased that the negotiation had gone her way.
“Now I ain’t got the means to deliver her,” the woman added. “You’ll have to come and get her, and bring her back.”
“If you’ll write out the directions, I’ll send someone by,” Evelyn said. “I’m off on Wednesdays, perhaps she can start then. I can send someone by to collect her in the morning?”
“Okay,” the woman said.
“And I’ll pay for this dress now and once it’s paid off, I’ll begin paying you cash directly for the girl’s time,” Evelyn said.
“Fair enough,” the woman replied. Then turning to Rebecca she added. “Well, looks like you bought yourself a dress, girl. You’re gonna work for this here lady, maybe a couple days a week, but don’t be thinking that’ll cut back on your chores at home. You’ll have to add it on. Do you understand that?”
The 9-year-old nodded nervously.
“Well, it’s done then,” the woman said.
Evelyn gave Rebecca a very warm smile as Mrs. Tanner reached into her purse, pulled out a small slip of paper and a pencil, quickly scratched out her address and handed it to Evelyn. Then the woman turned abruptly on her heels and walked away, heading for the cash register.
“Come on then, Rebecca, we’ll have to get this new dress wrapped up for you,” she said, taking the girl’s hand, leading her back down the isle towards the change room in the children’s department
The two of them faced each other as Evelyn reached around to undo the zipper on the back of the girl’s new dress.
“I don’t want you to fret about coming to work for me,” she assured the girl. “Are you okay with that?”
The girl nodded shyly.
Evelyn couldn’t resist watching as she pulled the front of the new dress down off the 9-year-old’s chest, exposing her cute little nipples once more.
Her heart was racing. She was still intensely aroused but some anxiety was sneaking through her defenses, confusing her, scaring her. What the hell was she doing?
She felt a warm blush pass through her as she lowered the pretty new dress and helped the girl step out of it.
Could she really go through with it? My God what if she got caught? What if someone found out?
The nervous possibilities snapped through her mind. Evelyn quickly considered each of them and concluded that there was only one way anyone might find out, and that would be if the girl told someone.
She looked into Rebecca’s eyes, seeing only innocence. Would she tell? Would she tell her aunt? Probably not, it looked like her aunt was a bit of a tyrant. Was there someone else she might tell? Maybe but probably not, there was a distinct loneliness about this little girl which Evelyn found very attractive, but it also suggested the girl probably didn’t have anyone, a special friend, who she shared secrets with.
And Evelyn knew that if she was actually going to do this, if she was going to lure this girl into her home, coax her out of her clothes, and then lovingly seduce her, if she was going to teach this pretty little 9-year-old how to be a very good and eager lover for an adult woman, then it had to be kept absolutely secret.
“Rebecca,” Evelyn whispered.
“Yes,” the girl responded.
“I’m going to tell you something,” the woman said softly. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
Evelyn kept her focus on the girl’s eyes.
“Do you promise?” she asked.
The girl nodded shyly and then whispered, “Yes.”
“Okay, well, how do I say this?” Evelyn started. “Um, you understand that I’m giving your aunt money so she will let you come to my house once in a while?”
The girl nodded.
“Well, I told your aunt it’s because I want you do housework for me,” Evelyn whispered. “And that is not quite true.”
Now the girl looked completely confused.
Evelyn smiled, and continued. She had to know if she could trust the girl.
“The reason I want you to come to my house,” Evelyn said, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair off the 9-year-old’s face. “Is because, I want to spend time with you.”
Rebecca’s lips morphed into a shy but confused grin.
“Well, I like you, and I want us to become friends,” Evelyn explained, letting her fingers slip down off the girl’s cheek, onto the bare skin of her neck.
The woman leaned forward touching her adult lips onto Rebecca’s forehead, giving her a tender little kiss as she lifted her left hand, grazing the tips of her fingers lightly up the back of the girl’s thigh, tracing up over the curve of her bum, up over her underwear, coming to rest on the small of her back.
“I want us to become very close friends,” the woman whispered softly in the girl’s ear.
As she said that, Evelyn lowered her right hand, slowly dragging her adult fingers down onto the 9-year-old’s flat chest, finding one of her naked little nipples, touching it.
She pulled her head back to look into the girl’s eyes as her fingers tenderly toyed with the tiny pink circle of that little nipple. There was nervousness there, and confusion.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered softly. “I promise I will never hurt you. I just want to spend some time with you, so we can get to know each other.”
As she spoke, Evelyn slipped the fingers of her left hand downward on the girl’s lower back, bumping into the thin waistband of her underwear.
The girl seemed okay. She certainly wasn’t pulling away from her touch. But Evelyn had to make sure the 9-year-old understood what she wanted from her. As dangerous as it might be, she had to give the girl a taste.
“If you come to visit me at my house, we could do fun things together, just the two of us,” Evelyn offered in a suggestive whisper.
Rebecca gasped softly as the woman gave her a sample of what she was talking about.
Evelyn traced the tips of her slender feminine fingers along the waistband of Rebecca’s underwear, finding a bit of a hollow spot, tucking down under the thin cotton material, fanning out, reaching downward as far as the waistband would allow, inching onto the gentle rise of the girl’s 9-year-old bum, flirting with her soft naked skin, touching her.
The girl’s body trembled, responding nervously to the intimacy of the woman’s touch.
It was a bold move but she had to do it. She had to make sure the girl understood.
Evelyn let the fingers of her right hand fall off Rebecca’s chest, reaching down for one of the girl’s tiny hands, cupping it in hers, lifting it to her lips, kissing the backs of her girlish fingers.
“It’s okay,” Evelyn whispered, smiling, trying to reassure the girl. “It will be fun, I promise.”
As she spoke, the woman lowered the 9-year-old’s hand, bringing it down onto her upper chest, laying it flat, palm down.
Evelyn’s heart was thumping as she covered the girl’s hand with her own and slowly coaxed it down onto one of her adult breasts, holding it there, squeezing her fingers in a gentle massaging motion, letting the girl feel the softness of her bosom, and the intimacy of that touch.
“It’s just that I’m so lonely with my husband away in the war, and you must be lonely too, with your ma and pa not here to care for you,” Evelyn said softly, continuing her gentle seduction of the 9-year-old, enticing her, luring her. “I would absolutely love it if you would come to my house once in a while so we could spend some time together.”
Rebecca was visibly nervous, but Evelyn continued with her delicate attempt to seduce the girl. She needed to know.
“We could do lots of fun things,” Evelyn whispered playfully. “We could play house together. You could be my little girlfriend and I could take care of you. I could show you some things that girlfriends can do together — special things to make each other feel good. But it has to be our little secret. You can’t tell your Aunt Millie about those things. You can’t tell anyone. Do you understand?”
The girl blushed and hesitated, lowering her eyes nervously.
Rebecca was a shy, quiet little girl, but she was not stupid. To the extent that her limited experience and knowledge allowed, she understood what was happening.
She understood that this pretty lady who worked in the Woolworths store had enjoyed taking her dress off, that she liked seeing her body, and touching her. And she could tell that the lady really wanted to take her underwear off too, so she could see her like that, naked.
And she kind of understood what all of that meant.
It meant that this nice lady was one of those adults that her ma had warned about a few years earlier, one of those adults who like to do naughty grown-up things with little girls. But Rebecca had always thought that it was bad men she needed to be careful of. She never imagined that a pretty lady might want to take her clothes off and do naughty things with her.
It made her nervous when the lady looked at her, and when she touched her, but it wasn’t scary, really. It didn’t feel bad. And the lady was being nice to her. Rebecca could not believe that this lady would do anything to hurt her.
Evelyn interrupted the girl’s thoughts.
“It would be so nice, Rebecca,” the woman whispered, coaxing the girl, reassuring her, taking away her reasons to say no. “You could be my lovely little princess and we could take care of each other. I would love that so much, but it has to be a secret. Do you understand?”
Rebecca knew that the lady wanted her to say “yes,” and she knew what that meant, but it all seemed so strange, so naughty. She didn’t know what to do.
The 9-year-old let herself imagine what the lady’s house might be like. She pictured a big house, full of nice, rich things. Then she blushed as she imagined herself in that house, in a big room with nice curtains on the windows, standing there, feeling the lady’s determined fingers tugging on the string-tie on the waistband of her bloomers, loosening it, coaxing her underwear down, stripping her naked.
Rebecca was very nervous. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel normal. She knew the woman was trying to get her to do something bad.
But there was a naughty little flame of nervous excitement flickering away inside her, tempting her, teasing her with the idea that it might be fun, going to this nice lady’s house, being a good girl for her, giving her what she wanted.
For a brief moment a strange image came to her, an odd memory from Sunday school, a biblical image of a person trying to decide between right and wrong. The person had a tiny angel on one shoulder and a tiny devil on the other.
Rebecca could hear the voice of that angel whispering to her. “Don’t do it, grown-ups are not supposed to do those things with children.”
But Rebecca could also hear the voice of the little devil whispering softly in her other ear. “But you like this nice lady. You liked it when she took your dress off, and touched you. And you’re going to like it when she takes your underwear off aren’t you? You’re going to be a good girl for her.”
For one brief moment, Rebecca fell into temptation, and that moment of weakness sealed her fate.
She nodded quickly, nervously, without making eye contact with the woman.
Evelyn saw that little nod. She smiled, leaned forward and touched her lips once more onto the girl’s forehead, giving her a couple of little kisses, then lower, kissing the tip of her nose.
“I’m so happy,” the woman whispered. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
Their eyes met. Evelyn could clearly see anxiety and nervousness there. But as she looked into Rebecca s face, the girl managed to put a hint of a smile on her young lips.
It was a very shy and nervous smile, but there was also acceptance and consent there.
The woman gasped as a flush of warm blood pulsed through her adult cunt. The girl was willing. She was going to have her.
She watched Rebecca’s eyes gently close as she lowered her lips onto the girl’s mouth, giving her one tender kiss, then another, then a whole series of gentle but urgent lip-touches.
Evelyn actually moaned softly as she felt the girl respond tentatively to her tender kisses-nervous girlish fingers moving awkwardly on her adult breast, squeezing it gently, cooperating, trying to give the woman what she wanted.
It was an unbelievably erotic moment.
Rebecca was an innocent little 9-year-old girl, but here she was, responding to the sexual advances of an adult woman, cooperating in her own intimate seduction.
Evelyn’s arousal hit an incredible peak as she allowed herself to accept and internalize the fact that she actually had a pretty little 9-year-old girl in her arms, she was kissing her young lips, she had her adult fingers tucked down the back of her underwear so close to the soft naked cheeks of her cute little bum, and the girl was responding to her, holding onto her adult breast, squeezing it nervously through the material of her dress,
Evelyn’s adult nipples stiffened up inside her clothes. She cursed that dress and the fact that she was wearing it. And she cursed the thickness of her brassiere underneath. She wanted so much to be naked with her little princess.
She wanted to reach down and loosen the little string-tie on the front of Rebecca’s underwear. She wanted to be able to move her whole hand down inside the back of those faded white bloomers. She wanted to feel the soft naked cheeks of that cute little bum. She wanted to squeeze it gently in her hand and pull the girl’s body up against hers.
Evelyn reluctantly ended the kisses and leaned her forehead against Rebecca’s, panting softly.
“Oh sweetheart, I’m so happy I met you,” she whispered lovingly to the girl. “But we have to get you dressed, quickly, before your aunt becomes suspicious.”
They scrambled to get that old smock back on and buttoned up. Then Evelyn kissed the girl’s lips again, quickly, urgently.
“I will see you on Wednesday, my little lover,” she whispered.
The girl nodded and blushed shyly. Then they opened the door and walked back out into the store together.
Rebecca’s aunt had already paid for her daughter’s dresses.
Evelyn quickly slipped Rebecca’s new dress into a paper bag and handed it to Mrs. Tanner.
“There you go ma’am,” she said. “I’ll take care of the bill on this one, as we discussed.”
For one nervous moment, a flash of suspicion flickered in the woman’s eyes as she reached out to take the bag from Evelyn. Those eyes then snapped to the girl, the little 9-year-old girl that Evelyn had been wickedly kissing and touching in the change room moments earlier.
Mrs. Tanner seemed to be trying to figure something out, something that didn’t add up, something that didn’t make sense, but then she discarded the thought and turned back to Evelyn.
“As you like,” she said with a bit of don’t-care attitude in her voice.
Then the woman turned and led her girls down the isle of the Woolworths and through the front door, out onto the sidewalk.
Evelyn walked to the door and stood there, watching them through the big glass window as they collected outside. For one brief moment the 9-year-old looked back, seeing her standing there. Evelyn smiled and they gave each other a very brief little wave, then the family headed off down the sidewalk.
Evelyn watched them walk away, her eyes focused intently on the 9-year-old, watching the way the girl’s loose summer smock responded to the movements of the girlish body underneath it.
She glanced quickly back into the store. Mrs. Thurston was busy at the cash counter, facing the other direction.
Evelyn slipped sideways a little, moving her body behind the wooden doorframe so she couldn’t be seen from the street. Then with her left hand, she pressed the material of her dress into the space between her thighs, accessing her adult cunt, pressing up against it, rubbing it tenderly as she locked her eyes back on Rebecca, watching the 9-year-old move, knowing that in four days, she was going to strip that little sweetheart absolutely naked.
Five minutes later, 28-year-old Evelyn Johnson was sitting in the toilet stall of the little washroom at the back of the Woolworths store. She her skirt hiked up above her waist and her bloomers pushed down around her ankles. She had both her hands tucked between her wide-spread legs. She was masturbating shamelessly — vigorously rubbing her clitoris with her left hand as she finger-fucked herself with her right.
She had her head back. Her eyes were closed, and she was brazenly licking her lips as she imagined what it was going to be like to have her mouth pressed up between Rebecca’s soft white thighs — kissing that delicate, puffy little 9-year-old cunt, exploring it with her adult tongue, licking it, tasting it, finding the cute little nub of her girlish clit, teasing it, sucking it, making her little princess squirm and whimper softly.
Continue on to Part Two