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I am 14 years old, not very pretty, quite skinny really, and I have hardly any friends and spend school time roaming around the streets and shopping malls. Sometimes people come up to me and talk, but mostly creepy men with lurid offers. That sort of turns me on but I usually just flip them the bird and walk away.

But on one particularly boring day of cutting school a man saw me walking around the mall, I saw him too. He came up to me and talked to me. I was just hanging looking at the shop windows looking at myself in the shop mirrors. I knew it was wrong to talk to strangers. He was pretty old, maybe about 40, but not old looking, with big strong arms and a soapy smell. He smiled a little and we had a drink together at the food court in the mall.

I knew what I was doing was wrong but I liked it and I thought that he liked me. He said I should come over to his house. And that was definitely wrong too and I knew it. There was no doubt in my mind what was going on. Fourteen or not I understood what he wanted. He didn't touch me he was too clever for that he just looked at me and smiled non-smile.

For maybe two days I had his address in my pocket, his place was not far away although I had never been in that area before. On the third day I thought maybe I would just go and have a look not go in, just have a look. I was board, and maybe just a little curious.

I went over and looked at his house, just an ordinary house. He's probably not home I thought. Who is at 10:00 am, no harm in ringing the bell, I thought, just to check that he's not home.

I rang the doorbell and after a second the knots in my stomach overcame me and I turned to go. I jumped when the door opened I didn't really expect him to be there that time of day. This was just a game to me to see if the door would open, I liked the thrill of the idea of going to a strange older man's house nothing more.

But once the door opened and he was standing there it was real, no longer a game. I stood there with my mouth open and didn't say a word. I was paralyzed from fear and the danger of the whole thing. I needed to be ushered in, to be swept in, I wanted him to take charge. I was excited not knowing what to expect.

He opened the door halfway, he was wearing the same jeans as in the mall and a new shirt. I stepped into the bright and pleasant hallway. He did not look surprised and hardly acknowledged me. But he did beckon me in and closed the door behind me, all the time looking me up and down.

He had this slow couldn't-care-less attitude about him. His hand reached forward to me. "This is what you came for, isn't it?" he said as he held my hand casually against the front of his jeans.

My fingers felt the length of his dick pressed to the front of his jeans. Older men in jeans are just trying to kid themselves that they are young I thought. I knew I should not have stayed, the white door, a step behind me, where he'd so ungraciously let me in, could just as easily have let me out again.

I was standing facing him in my tight t-shirt and wrap- skirt, which just some hours before had seemed sexy, even sophisticated. Now I thought I looked childish my clothes irrelevant.

"This is what you came for isn't it?" he said again, with my hand pressed to him. "You can go now or stay and go after you get it, it's all the same to me honey."

While I remained undecided he moved his body up against mine and rubbed against me. "This is not fun," was all that I could think.

But he gave me no time for reconsiderations; he gripped my arm with one big hand, took a step back, looked at me, and said in his slow, sly voice, "Not much of you, is there? Hardly worth the bother." I had expected a deep romantic experience, not this.

He gave me another up and down look and it was obvious he had come to some decision. He physically man handled me, his thick bare arms, with no resistance from me at all. He turned me around so that I faced the door.

By now I was beyond resistance. Instead of opening it and exiting he had my face against the white paint that covered the door. My skirt found its way to my ankles and, when he pulled up my shirt, my back and behind were naked to him.

His hands felt me from my calves to my shoulders surprisingly very gently and within seconds I could feel that I was wet inside. I didn't want it but my body did I guess.

His hands were touching me again, my behind and right down my thighs and legs. I heard the sound of movements, of him unbuttoning and adjusting his clothes to extract his penis, and all the time he had my face pressed into wooden door.

Then his penis touched my ass momentarily, then he grabbed my hips and pulled me to him. I jumped in surprise as he slid up inside me.

Pushing up me he said something like, "Don't worry honey, it'll be okay, don't worry."

He thrust into me a few times and I felt the tingling of the beginning of an orgasm. My face was pushed against door panel again as he stood me there holding me by my hips and thrust away.

That (now) familiar, small, liquid explosion inside me followed. He had tensed and pushed even further up me and held me tight. Then after a bit he pulled out, wiped his sticky penis on my ass and tidied himself up.

He let my shirt fall and I reached down and retrieved my panties and skirt. I was dripping and my back was wet too but he didn't seem to care so I got dressed. He opened the door again and I found my self post-orgasmic, wet with his stickiness and walking away from his house.


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