past puberty and ready to find out what kind of excitement a big cock like Yam could give her.
Eno Yaw was bright enough to know he had no chance at all to fuck Conchi Thorne. She was up there in the clouds where he couldn't go. Oh, he fucked her all right-in his dreams. And his erect tool did measure nine inches of solid blood-hard flesh that he handled gently and always slowly as his fantasy undressed Conchi so Yam could part the lush lips of her cunt to enter the hall of pleasure.
On the other hand, a teeny-bopper was a possibility. Eno realized the risks that went with the pleasure of child fucking, but he just couldn't control his desire. He wanted to screw a baby cunt and his dreams of doing so made Yam so stiff that Eno often cried out in the pain of wanting pubescent flesh to stick Yam into.
There were a lot of teeny-boppers around and on his time off he would cross the street to the park and sit there watching them. Especially the little girls who wore short-skirt dresses.
Eno felt that he could get a teeny-bopper easier by an offering of money; not a little nickels and dimes deal- my God, no! A good offer like, say, a hundred dollars! By God, that should get one for him. He had saved the money, now all he needed was the courage to approach one without getting himself into trouble.
He had decided that it was worth a hundred dollars just to see her cunt. But of course he had more on his mind than just eyeing a baby slit. What he wanted first of all was to eat it! Man, how the juices frosted his mouth at the thought. His guts turned over and Yam made his pants bulge as he pictured himself licking and sucking-and then fucking the pristine twat of a little girl.
Just the thoughts of getting a young girl in position made his cock rise and grow hard. And whenever he could he would take the slender Yam out and talk to it.
'Someday, Yam,' he'd say, 'me and you'll get to know a little one and then we'll spread her out and dive into her little hairless nest. I'll lick her twat and suck it while you get up ready to plunge into it!'
All the time he talked he would gently and slowly finger the slender shaft.
'Imagine that, Yam,' he'd continue, 'you fuck it real good after I lick it real good; and if the little one is real pleased why we'll fuck it and suck it again and again!'
As Yam grew with the mind pictures and the fingering of his flesh, Eno would breathe heavily and begin to snort like a horse.
'Oh, Yammy, Yammy!' he'd say. 'Here you come like an oil well gushing out for its first strike! Shoot it, boy, shoot it out… oh boy how I could fuck her!'
And as Yam became reduced in size Eno would lay back and relax in the excitement of having fucked his teeny-bopper again-but good.
Naturally such dreams sought some kind of better fulfillment than just fantasy, so until the great day arrived Eno began to buy teen magazines. He'd select a likely prospect and cut her picture out. Of course it had to show more than a face; it had to have legs and a little ass and everything.
So when he now got the urge Eno would lay on the couch in his basement apartment and play with Yam. He'd get to breathing and snorting as he held the picture near Yam's head. And Yam, to show his own appreciation would shoot his come on the little girl.
Yam was indeed a heavy piece of equipment for an old man to tote around. But Eno didn't mind a bit. He loved Yam like a brother and was very pleased that good old Yam was able to get up and go on the many occasions when Eno's mind dipped into the great tub of sex.
But for all the power of his desire for baby flesh he did not neglect Conchi. Every evening when she got off the elevator he'd grab at Yam and say, 'Yam, how'd you like to fuck that beauty?'
Of course the long slender prick didn't answer in words but in action. It would begin to stir and before Eno closed the elevator doors it would be up and ready for some kind of doing. At such time, watching through the little window in the door, Eno would take Yam out and dress him down for a couple of very pleasurable strokes. After which Yam would be tucked in again with the promise of more handling, come twelve o'clock.
When the miracle happened so suddenly, Eno couldn't believe his luck. A for-real teeny-bopper had come right out and offered Eno her goodies!
Golden-haired Joyce Craigh had sailed effusively into the lobby one afternoon while Eno was sitting idly in his elevator. She approached him and said, 'Want to buy some cookies, mister?'
Eno stared at the girl and she stared back. 'Well, pops, do you?' she asked.
Eno was baffled for a moment by the nearness of the sweet little girl. 'Maybe I do,' he said. He looked down toward the little beauty's shorts-covered crotch. 'How much?'
'Not that, pops-cookies,' she said.
Eno's face reddened and his eyes became moist. 'How much?'
The girl smiled. 'For the cookies, pops, the sale price is one dollar. For the other-' The girl smiled again.
Eno's mouth watered. He felt like he'd made it to paradise.
'You catch on, pops?' the blonde asked.
'I'll have to go to my apartment-for some money,' Eno said. He hoped against hope that no one would ring for the elevator. Trembling with anticipation he went downstairs to his room and the little long-haired blonde followed him.
She plopped herself down on the studio couch, stretching out her thin but excellently turned legs. She was dressed for the April sun that had warmed the day enough for her to wear shorts.
'You live here by yourself, pops?' she asked as Eno made a pretense of searching for the dollar.
'Yeah.' Eno looked at the little doll who had entered his abode so daringly.
'Isn't it lonely being the only one here?' she asked.
'Sure is, missy.' Eno now looked straight at the crotch he wanted so much to lick, suck, and fuck. 'Ain't you afraid?'
'Of what?' the girl said. 'What the hell could you do, pops?'
'Don't say that, missy, because I ain't that old!'
The girl laughed. It was a pleasant sound in the one-room apartment. 'Maybe I could come and visit you sometime-kinda keep you company?'
Eno's heart was pounding. Had he really reached the gates to paradise at last? 'Your folks wouldn't want you to visit an old man like me.'
'To hell with my folks,' she said. 'What they don't know won't hurt them anyway.'
Eno took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. He reached into his pants pocket and brought out a bill. 'Here's your dollar, missy.'
'Thanks, pops,' she said as she exchanged the box of cookies for the money.
Was the little girl for real? He knew he'd find out soon. 'What can we do if you visit me?' he asked.
'I know what I can do,' she said, 'but I don't know what you can do.' The girl clutched the bill in one hand and raised her legs. She spread them wide as she said, 'What about it, pops?'
Eno sweated.
'Damn it, mister, do you want to fuck me or don't you?' she asked as she lowered her legs and stood up. She was a little thing-not much over five feet tall.
Eno wiped more sweat and said, 'You won't get me into trouble, missy?'
'Not if you pay me for it,' the girl said.
'How old are you, missy?' Eno looked at the prize before him. 'It don't matter much; just like to know.'
'Almost fifteen, pops, and no hair on my cunt yet.'
'I like that,' Eno said.
'I know, pops. Old men like to fuck hairless cunts.'
'They do for a fact, missy.'
'Now will you pay for a piece of ass or won't you?'
Eno's face changed color like a litmus paper. 'You betcha, missy,' he said as his heart pounded like it had never pounded before.
'What's the matter, pops? Your face is like fire.'
'I'm all right-just thinking.'
'You evil minded, pops?'
'Not evil, missy, just hot,' Eno said.
The girl placed her hand on Eno's arm. 'How much, pops?'
'Whatever you say, missy.' Eno felt as if a heart attack was imminent.
