Copyright (c) 2018,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Tuesday, December 18, 2018

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.

A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: butterf3.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com

story_codes: M/g(10) Man/young girl, semi-cons

story_intro: Proudly volunteering at a homeless shelter, Aubrey is pleased when she is entrusted with conducting questionnaires. For this special assignment, she is properly dressed in her full Butterfly Girls uniform. When one man says during an interview that what he wants most is a girlfriend, Aubrey has no idea what to do. After all, she's only ten years old. So the man shows her.


story_language: English




Butterfly Girls - The Girlfriend

Written by madvlad


	With her pen and clipboard and uniform, Aubrey felt very official as she entered the homeless shelter. For several months, she had been volunteering there after school to help serve meals or to clean and to perform other various chores that the adults who ran the place needed. Most of the time, she simply wore a Butterfly Girls t-shirt as the work could sometimes get messy.

	But today, she proudly wore her full uniform. On her clipboard were questionnaire sheets and her duty for these next few days would be to interview various people who came here for help - find out how the program could serve them better and that sort of thing. Many of them now recognized her and greeted her by name when they met. It was also thought that some of the people here might be more comfortable with a ten year-old than in an office with an adult.

	After checking in with the manager, Aubrey went to the women's room to double-check her appearance. Her purple beret was slightly out of place and she adjusted it to it rested perfectly over her collar-length, dark brunette locks. After tugging on her badge sash to make it just right, she walked out and began her new assignment.

	After two interviews were done, she saw Stan, one of the regulars, and asked him if she could interview him. He paused and leaned on the broom he used to sweep the floors here (the shelter encouraged such help in exchange for food and a bed so that people wouldn't feel they were simply getting handouts). Not for the first time, he surveyed the young volunteer with the bright, enthusiastic blue eyes.

	The kid looked so confident and proud that he thought she'd burst from her blouse if she had any tits to do so. Beneath the hem of the skirt she was starting to outgrow, her white thighs were sturdy and perfect. He could imagine traveling up them, slipping under the panties, and finding her just as smooth inside as he got her ready...

	"Stan?" she repeated politely and held up the clipboard.

	"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure I'll answer your questions. But, uh...some of it's kind of personal. Could we do it in one of the storerooms? I need to sweep there, anyway."

	"Sure!" she chirped and allowed him to lead her down the hall. She knew she was safe in this building where nearly everyone knew her and appreciated what she did.

	Stan thought the same thing. She really was a good little girl - so bright and so cheerful and so helpful.

	And so trusting.

	Aubrey certainly could tell the storeroom needed some cleaning. When she heard Stan close the door behind her, she wasn't at all concerned because he had said he wanted privacy. Had she heard him lock the door, though, she might have asked why.

	After Stan briskly swept a clean patch of floor, he sat down asked her to join him. The girl hesitating, noticing that the area around him was still dirty. But Sam just smiled and patted his leg.

	"You can sit in my lap," he offered.

	Aubrey thought she was a little too old to be sitting in someone's lap. After all, she was just a year away before moving up from Butterfly Girls to Wing Guides. As far as age went, she wasn't sure how old Stan was. From a child's view it was hard to determine anyway and his shabby appearance didn't help in guessing. Perhaps he was in his thirties or forties - or maybe fifties.

	When she sat down sideways across his lap, her uniform skirt - already slightly short but still wearable for the last year she would need it - hiked up to display most of her thighs. Stan patted one leg and then left his hand there while she asked him questions from her papers. As he replied, he occasionally gave her thigh a light squeeze; enjoying the firmness of her muscle beneath the warm skin and softer outer layer of flesh.

	After a half dozen questions, he interrupted her next one.

	"What I really need is not counselling or faith or job skills. What I need is a girlfriend."

	"Oh!" was all that Aubrey could think to say.

	"You understand," he went on. "After all, a pretty little thing like you must have plenty of boyfriends."

	"No," the girl replied, blushing. "I mean, I'm only ten."

	"So? If you don't have a boyfriend, who makes you feel good?"

	"My parents do. And my sister, and my friends at school and church and in Butterfly Girls. And then-"

	"No, that's not what I mean. Who makes you feel good in a way that only boyfriends and girlfriends do?"

	"I don't understand."

	Aubrey's blue eyes were wide and her lips, so red against her milk white skin, were slightly open. With her face turned toward his, she was so close. She barely noticed him ducking his head before his lips crushed against hers. Then his tongue was in her mouth and found hers, playing with it while she tried to wriggle free. Stan's other hand was on her shoulder and he was surprisingly strong as he held her but then he let her pull back enough to speak.

	"W-What?" she stammered.

	"That was a kiss," the man told her. "Not a mommy-kiss - that was a real kiss between a boyfriend and a girlfriend."

	"But I don't have a boyfriend!"

	"You do now. And I'm going to make you feel that extra kind of good."

	Then he kissed her again, blockading any further protests with his mouth as his tongue resumed its explorations. The hand on her leg moved up, massaging the smooth limb until it was under her skirt. Discovering the fifth grader's panties to be a little loose, Stan slipped a finger into a leg band and found her cunny to be as bald as he had dreamed.

	As much as feeling Aubrey's childish snatch jacked up Stan's lust, it made the girl start to panic. Once again, he ended the kiss and turned her head so she could see the movements of her skirt as his hand worked beneath it. Kissing her ear, he could detect the sweet scent of her shampoo that graced her dark hair.

	"Just give me a minute,' he whispered as he inserted his fingertip into her snug slit. "If you don't like anything I'm doing, I'll stop. I promise."

	Murmuring weakly, Aubrey didn't move as the homeless man molested her innocent little twat. If it wasn't for the fact that he shouldn't be touching her there, she might have enjoyed the way he squeezed and caressed her chubby vulva. But when the fingertip sliding along her smooth cleft found her clitty and pressed it, she couldn't suppress her shivering.

	"See? You do like it, don't you?"

	"A little," she confessed.

	"Let's make you like it a lot," he replied as he tugged her panties down.

	Aubrey's heart was pounding has the man slid her panties - white with a tiny red bow in the front, down her legs. Then Stan pushed her skirt up to reveal her childish mound so they could both watch as his fingers manipulated her. She started squirming again but by the warmth radiating from her bald genitals, Stan knew it was from arousal.

	"That's it," he encouraged as he breathed into her ear. "Just enjoy it. Now, unbutton your blouse - I want to see what you have there."

	With her head swimming, Aubrey tried to resist but she knew he'd eventually have her way. She did as he told and then pulled the front open to show him her completely flat chest.

	Stan wouldn't have minded a pair of puffy nubbins to play with, but her complete lack of development wasn't so bad, either. It simply reinforced just how young this soon-to-be-debauched little sweetmeat was. Digging his fingertip into the ten year-old's smooth cunny groove a little harder, he pulled her up a little and lowered his head so his tongue could lash at one small nipple.

	"Ah!" the little girl exclaimed as her niplet stiffened almost immediately.

	Aubrey didn't; know what else to do as the man lapped at her chest - something she had always kept properly covered as if practicing for the day when she would finally have some development there. And his other hand was making her tingly and itchy and hot. She was sweating or something down there. No - in there. She was getting very wet and could hear the soft snicking sounds as his fingers played with the soft flesh of her privates.

	Her entire body twitched.

	Stan rubbed the girl harder as she whined, knowing what was going to happen while she didn't have a clue.

	Whatever was going on made Aubrey even want to curl her toes if they were free of her shoes. It would be so nice to have her shoes off - and her socks. And everything else. Her spit-soaked nipples and her drooling made the little girl want to be completely naked when this thing inside her did...did...

	Explode.

	Aubrey lost all control, not caring if she was a good girl or someone naughty who was letting, wanting a man to touch her where her panties should be. Her orgasm rocketed through her, making her loins convulse until the waves subsided.

	"Good girl, you came," Stan praised her.

	"What...why?" she croaked.

	"It's what boyfriends do to their girlfriends. You're my girlfriend, now aren't you?"

	With a homeless man brushing his fingers against her nude, dripping cunny, the preteen paused to let this momentous question sink in. Then she nodded, yes.

	"Yeah," he breathed as he fumbled in his lap beneath her.

	Aubrey was content to lay there, absorbing this new experience, until he pulled her so that she was sitting upright. Turning her to face him, he took her left leg and placed on the other side of his waist. She was now sitting on him with her legs spread wide.

	"Hold your skirt up," he said.

	Aubrey was feeling rather sheepish again but did as he asked. With a peep of surprised, she saw something jutting upward. Her cheeks colored as she understood that this was the thing that guys had.

	"Have you ever seen a cock before?" asked Stan.

	Aubrey shook her head as noted the word.

	Cock. That thing was called a cock. And now it was touching her down there. Stan lifted her up until her wet slit was on top of the purple end. The thing was spongey as it pushed into her where his finger had been. And he was still pushing and she felt something opening as her flesh expanded.

	"What are you doing?" she whispered.

	"It's my turn to cum," he replied. "And I'm going to cum inside you."

	Aubrey opened her mouth to ask him what he meant when he suddenly shoved her down. It hurt - something was tearing inside of her. As she was about to yell, one of Stan's hands came up to the back of her head and pressed her face to his shoulder.

	"Shh..shh..." he soothed. "Quiet now. It only hurts like that the first time it goes in."

	Aubrey sobbed against the man's filthy coat but the pain did fade. Then he was pushing her down again and something - his cock - was going in and stretching her in her private place and even farther in.

	"Your cock is going in my belly," she whispered in disbelief.

	"That's right," he crooned as his cock slowly penetrated the Butterfly Girl's prepubescent pussy. "You're such a good girl, giving me your cherry."

	"Ch-cherry?"

	"Take a look, you'll see your cherry juice."

	Aubrey had dropped her skirt when her hymen had been skewered and now she lifted the hem and gasped. Half of the man's cock had disappeared, going through the widely bulging lips of her bald young cunt. Seeing the thin red streaks, she mewled.

	"I'm bleeding."

	"That's just from the first time. Now enjoy the ride."

	Stunned, Aubrey stared as she was moved up and down on his prick. She couldn't fathom how that big thing was fitting inside of her but she could feel the unseen portion of turgid meat as it plowed inside her tunnel, going farther with every stroke. Letting go of her skirt again, she leaned forward, closing her eyes as the man controlled her body to consummate this strange new act.

	Aubrey's earlier climax has made her virgin twat nicely lubricated for him as he gave her this carnal ride. Using just a little more force, he was soon moving through her fleshy, oven-like passage all the way to the cervical barrier that guarded her other intimate treasures. The ten year-old's freshly deflowered pussy clenched at him, making him rub her harder as she responded with a heavier, juicy flow.

	She heard Stan groan and felt the thing inside her swelling slightly before the surge of something thick and hot burst into her. The heat went deeper inside of her and the little girl did not yet understand how this act was the thing that created babies. More jets of the man's seed shot through her cervix, unable to make her immature body a breeding place but now marking her path to womanhood at such an early age.

	"Was that cumming?" she whispered.

	"Yes. And if you lift your skirt for me, I'll make you cum. That is, if you don't mind me seeing you naked and full of cock."

	Aubrey raised her skirt.

	With the man's partially inflated prick still stuffed in her little snatch, Aubrey's second orgasm was even more intense as she watched him pinching and rubbing her clit. The rhythmic squeezing of her convulsing quim made him react and she stared at him, wide-eyed as she felt him growing inside her. When Stan took her by the waist, she understood and let him do as he wished until her preteen body was inseminated once more.

	It had been two long days before Aubrey was due back at the shelter. The thing that she had done with Stan might have seemed unreal if she hadn't spent time doing things with her fingers between her legs. At school, she had discovered how she could hold a book in her lap and press the edge of the spine against her crotch through her skirt and panties to give her some faint tingles of pleasure.

	When she felt the moistness in there, she hurriedly got permission to go to the girl's room. With an urgency that would have surprised her just days before, she attacked her bald, oozing slit and the hard nubbin of her clitty while locked in a stall until the convulsion of a small climax seized her. When she left the bathroom, she now had some folded toilet paper lining the crotch of her panties so that additional furtive playing wouldn't leave visible evidence of her naughtiness.

	Finally, she was back at the shelter in her Butterfly Girls uniform and her clipboard. Phyllis, the volunteer coordinator, was always impressed and a little amused at the girl's enthusiasm and noted that it hadn't waned at all. When Aubrey asked where Stan was, the woman pointed to the hallway around the corner and indicated a now very-familiar store room.

	Aubrey skipped out of the office, making the rear of her skirt bounce and reveal a few peeks of her panties. Chuckling, Phyllis shook her head. At that age, little Aubrey wouldn't understand anything except that showing her panties would be impolite and a bit embarrassing. Oh, to be that young and innocent again. Returning her attention to the schedule she was creating, Phyllis refocused on her work.

	Stan was waiting when Aubrey entered. Reaching around her, he turned the deadbolt lock to keep the door closed.

	Now that she was alone with him, Aubrey's excitement gave way to a little bashfulness. How would they start?

	It was then that Stan stepped aside so that she could see the other three men in the room; shelter visitors like him who eyed her like she was a choice cut of beef. Stan smiled proudly at the girl.

	"See? I always knew you'd have a bunch of boyfriends."



Copyright (c) 2018 madvlad

madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm
























This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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