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OP here. As if the nuclear war weren't bad enough, a comet struck the earth. A large portion of the ocean and the comet itself were vaporized; tidal waves annihilated every nation on the Atlantic all along the shoreline, dozens of miles inland. Hundreds of entire cities are simply gone. A dense cloud layer of dust and water vapor encircles the earth and may take decades to settle back to ground level; the sun hasn't shined in days. The increased albedo means sunlight won't get through properly and plant life around the world is going to die off en mass. Global temperatures are dropping rapidly as we enter a new ice age. We may face the extinction of the entire human race; at the very least, there will be worldwide chaos, murder for food and other resources, rape, looting, cannibalism, and rioting.
To make matters worse, I have no fucking idea where my iPod went, so I can't even listen to REM's It's The End Of The World As We Know It while I load my SKS and head for the hills. This is definitely worse than Y2K.
Oddly, this has put me in the mood to write.
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In the morning I woke up without hating myself or feeling guilty. Actually, I was disoriented and couldn't remember where I was or what I'd been doing all weekend. I had a dream where I was trapped in a lecture by my monotone professor forever, and suddenly he was Jewish and wanted to circumcise me. I told him I was already circumcised, like most American men, but he said, "no no, this time I finish the job" and pulled out a pair of hedge clippers. Then I went skiing with David Hasselhoff. Clearly, my subconscious is insane.
After I woke up and took a moment to remember that I was in a tent, what I'd done that weekend, and realize it was STILL raining like some old guy in a big boat full of animals was going to show up, I became aware of something warm in my sleeping bag with me.
I was laying on my side, and Sara was spooned up against me, her butt molded to my crotch, and thoroughly hidden under her mound of blankets and the sleeping bag. I could see just a bit of her light brown hair sticking out about where my shoulder was.
Well, all things considered, I didn't have to get out of bed any time soon, right? I glanced at my watch and noticed the face was fogged over... on the inside. Cheap 'made in China' piece of crap. It was still running, and I was surprised to see it was ten o'clock. Wow. That late, and it was not only still raining, but it was this dark out? I groped around for my pants and retrieved my cell phone to confirm that I hadn't just woken up after a couple hours of sleep; yep, it was ten in the morning, all right.
I set the phone back down and lay back down. Then I slowly slid one arm around Sara and snuggled closer to her. Yeah. This was nice. It wouldn't last, but this was nice.
As I started to doze off again, I remembered that I'd left the damn hot chocolate sitting by the fire last night. In the rain.
Lovely.
I woke up about an hour later when Sara started wiggling around in the sleeping bag, digging her heels into my shins and thrashing around. Eventually, her head popped out of the blankets and she took a deep breath, like someone who'd just emerged from underwater and run out of air.
"Morning, kiddo. Sleep well?"
"Mm-hm."
She rubbed her eyes drowsily for a few seconds, then sat up and stared into space like a zombie. Her hair stuck out in all directions and seriously needed brushing. After a while she flopped back down and pulled the blankets back up. Clearly, she was not a morning person.
"C'mon, kiddo. It's after eleven. We gotta get up; today's the day we pack up and go home."
No response. I unzipped the sleeping bag and got out, stretching. I pulled my pants on, wincing at how cold they were, then put my socks on.
"C'mon Sara, we gotta get up."
"Nn-nn."
"Yes, we gotta get up. C'mon, hop to it."
She just burrowed deeper under the blankets. So I unzipped the sleeping bag the rest of the way and folded it over, then lifted the bottom of the blankets to expose her feet and grabbed her by the ankles. Then I stood up quickly and lifted.
She shrieked as she was suddenly yanked out from under her warm blankets and suspended upside down, nightshirt flopping over her head, and I shook her up and down while roaring like a monster. I dropped her, gently, onto the blankets, then dropped to my knees and began tickling her mercilessly while she flailed her arms around trying to get her shirt down and out of my reach. She shrieked and giggled the entire time.
"Nope! You're not getting away!"
I wrapped one arm around her waist and continued tickling her with the other while she laughed. She tried to tickle me back, but I was holding her back against my chest and she couldn't reach me very well. Finally she begged me to stop and I let her go. She flopped onto her back, breathless, and grinned up at the ceiling of the tent. I admired her panties (the white ones with the ribbon) and pale, shapely legs. Finally, after a minute or two to let her catch her breath, I told her we had to get up so we could pack and go home.
"Do we have to?"
"'fraid so, kiddo. If it's raining like this all day, we can't do anything but sit in the tent, so we might as well go home early. Besides, I could use a nice, hot shower."
Sara grudgingly got dressed, whining about her pants being cold as ice, then we packed our things. The backpacks were in the trunk of the car, but we didn't have much to pack since all our dirty clothes were in there. I rolled up my sleeping bag and pad, stacked both pillows on top of them, and wrapped the entire bundle in Sara's blankets. Now I could carry it all in one cumbersome package instead of making multiple trips.
Sara tucked both our books under her shirt to keep them dry(ish) and we ran for the car. I tossed my bundle into the trunk, then started the engine and turned on the heater. She sat in the back seat, warm and mostly dry, while I tossed her my clean shirt and ran back to dismantle the tent. With the tent down, I waded through the mud, tossed it into the trunk, and got in the car, thoroughly soaked. I used my sweaty but otherwise clean shirt from Friday to dry off my head and torso, then put my clean shirt back on.
"All right, I think we're all set. You need to stop anywhere?"
"Can we stop someplace with a nice bathroom? I haven't pooped since we left, 'cause the gas station bathrooms were gross, and you didn't bring toilet paper."
"Oh. Sure, we'll stop somewhere to get breakfast and you can go there."
I got my clean shirt soaked opening and closing the gate to our property, but the drive to the nearest IHOP let me go from soaked to damp. Then we got out in the rain again and ran inside. I really should have brought a jacket or something. Never trust the weatherman. If they're not lying to you about the weather, they're bombing police stations.
Yes, I just reference a 1960's communist terrorist organization, the leader of which mentored our current president. If you don't want me derailing my narrative with random crap, you shouldn't be talking to me.
Anyway, Sara ran to the bathroom and I took the opportunity to duck into the men's room and wash up. Then I bent under the hand drier and let it blow hot air on me and my shirt in an attempt to dry off somewhat. Failing, I made a mental note to destroy every public bathroom that used a blow drier instead of paper towels if I ever became absolute dictator and walked back out. Sara had already picked a table and was waiting for me.
We both got waffles and orange juice, and she swung her feet back and forth, bouncing them off my knees, and chattered about how cool camping was and all the neat stuff in the woods. To my relief, the closest she came to mentioning our sexual escapades was a brief comment about how she'd learned a lot... and her example was a flower I'd told her was poisonous. Maybe I was safe. Maybe not. Maybe she'd tell Bill and he'd peel my dick like a banana.
She sat in the back and hummed some happy tune the entire trip back, engrossed in the adventures of a hairy midget and thirteen bearded, alcoholic midgets. I spent the entire trip back getting more and more nervous about her saying something to Bill or one of her teachers. It'd be the end of my entire life if she told someone.
Dammit, why did I do that? Why did I take things that far? Why the hell was I getting into sexual stuff with an 11 year old who probably didn't even understand the full ramifications of what we'd done? What the hell was wrong with me?
I was miserable by the time I pulled into the parking lot by the apartment building. Fortunately, the rain was moving the other direction and it was dry and sunny, though still cool, when we pulled in. I grabbed our stuff from the car and brought it in, while Sara used her key to open the door for me. Going up the stairs with a bunch of blankets, a tent, a sleeping bag, and dirty laundry in your arms is harder than you might expect, incidentally.
I tossed the dirty clothes in the hamper and made a note to do laundry later; Bill had removed the washer and drier from our apartment to give Sara her own room, so we had to use the common laundry room downstairs, which was a hassle, but again- location, location, location. It was a great apartment, and it was a block from campus.
Sara scampered off to her room, and I went into mine, shutting the door and stripping out of my damp clothes. I grabbed fresh clothes out of my drawers and laid them out on my bed, then opened the door to head for the shower.
Sara was already naked and slipping into the bathroom. I reach out and goosed her butt.
"Eeek!"
I grinned and stuck my tongue out at her.
"Hey kiddo, I thought I had first dibs on the shower!"
She gave me an indignant, pouty look, but grudgingly stepped out of the bathroom.
"Don't use all the hot water before I get in."
"What, like you do to me all the time?"
She squawked defensively, but I glanced at the clock at the far end of the apartment and saw it was only a little after three; we'd made great time getting back.
And Bill wasn't due back until ten.
Well, I'd already been swimming with Sara naked two days in a row now, and I'd fondled her privates and encouraged her to jerk me off twice. If I was destined for the lake of fire, I might as well swan dive into the deep end.
"You know, we could both take a shower at the same time. That way we'd both get hot water and not have to wait on each other."
She smiled hesitantly, glanced down (at her toes or her naked body, I don't know which) nervously, then looked up and nodded.
"Ok."
In my mind, I heard a cash register chiming. Damnedest thing.
We both headed into the bathroom and I shut the door behind us. I climbed into the tub first and Sara got in behind me, then stood there awkwardly while I turned the water on, adjusted the temperature, and then turned the shower head on.
Now, if you've never showered with someone else before, allow me to explain: it's awkward. Most tubs/shower stalls are only designed for one person. This means that it's hard to squeeze past one another to get the soap (though I will admit, if your shower partner is a short 11 year old girl, that makes it slightly easier) and only one person can be in the shower at a time, while the other person stands there waiting their turn. Being that I was bigger and had gotten in first, this meant I was getting almost all the hot water and Sara was just standing there getting some spray and whatever I splashed in her direction.
Finally, I grabbed the detachable shower head and pulled it off the wall, and handed it to Sara.
"Here. You spray yourself while I soap you down."
She reveled in the hot water while I lathered the soap, then took both hands and ran them all up and down her entire body. Her arms, her legs, her butt, her back, her chest, her belly... she giggled occasionally and posed however I told her, to give me better access.
Then I casually reached a soapy hand down and began rubbing her crotch. Thoroughly. I had to make sure she was clean down there, after all.
Yeah, I don't believe it either.
She didn't give any overt reaction when I touched her privates and just kept chattering. She rinsed herself off and then I shampooed her hair, lathering, rinsing, and repeating (something I never did personally, but I wanted to prolong this.) while we discussed the finer points of Bram Stoker's Dracula, which I had had to read in high school and she had stolen from her brother and read a few months ago.
Then it was my turn and I held the shower head on myself while she started soaping me down all over and explained, very seriously, why Twilight was complete crap and it was the only book she'd ever thrown in the trash. I knew there was a reason I liked her; even for a well-read 11 year old, she had taste.
Then, inevitably, she reached my crotch and hesitated.
"It's ok if I touch it, right?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
She blushed a little and grinned shyly, then took me in her soft, gentle hands and began soaping me down. I took the opportunity to instruct her in the right way of doing things: very thoroughly, making sure not to miss anything, and paying special attention to soaping my penis down in much the same manner that she had jerked me off the day before.
And of course, it wasn't long before I got an erection. She continued soaping/jerking, staring in fascination.
"Does it feel good again?"
"Sweetie, pretty much any time a girl touches it the right way, it feels good."
"Really?"
"Mm-hm."
She bent over to get a closer look and continued jerking. The soap made me really slick, so while it was great at first, now I wasn't getting so much out of it.
"Here, let me rinse off real quick."
I rinsed all the soap off while Sara stood at the back of the tub, then hung the shower head up again. I was about to reach for the shampoo when Sara pointed to my penis and said, "it's still all big and hard."
"Yep."
Her face scrunched in an adorable look of thought and she met my eyes.
"So doesn't it make your testacles"- she still made it rhyme with Hercules- "uncomfortable if you don't orgasm after it gets hard?"
"Sure. They get kinda sore."
"How do you make them stop?"
"Well, you either orgasm, or you wait a really long time for them to quit hurting."
She poked my scrotum and peered at it quizzically.
"So if you don't orgasm now, they'll hurt?"
Probably not, but it was a possibility. Like I said, blue balls are a real thing, if exaggerated by boys trying to get their high school sweethearts to go all the way.
"Yeah, probably."
She looked up at me innocently and asked, "Do you want to have an orgasm then?"
I wasn't about to explain that that was like asking a starving person if he wanted a sandwich, so I just said sure.
"It's kinda awkward in here though, let's step out of the tub."
I realize I had skipped the shampoo, but let's be honest: sexy time comes first. Period. No exceptions. Any guy who says otherwise (even the ones who aren't molesting little girls) is castrated and probably gay.
I turned the shower off and stepped out of the tub, standing in front of the sink with my legs slightly spread and penis erect. Sara got out and at first bent over to stroke my penis, then found it more comfortable to kneel before me and do it.
You know, now that I think about it, why was General Zod so obsessed with having Superman kneel before him?
Ew. Nevermind. Back to the totally inappropriate enjoyment of a little girl giving me a handjob.
I leaned back on the edge of the sink and closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of her small hand wrapped around my shaft and rhythmically jerking up and down. It was glorious. It felt wonderful. I looked down and basked in the look of concentration on her face, damp hair stuck to her forehead. She looked up and met my eyes with her blue gemstone orbs, grinning and blushing simultaneously, and returned her gaze to my penis. I tried to get her to fondle my balls a little too, but she didn't seem enthusiastic about it, so I didn't push her.
After what seemed like an eternity of paradise, but was probably only about five minutes, I could feel the growing pressure in my balls and a tingling, wonderful sensation shooting up my spine into my brain and exploding behind my eyes. My penis pumped load after load of semen and I grunted in ecstasy. Damn. A guy could get used to this! It was way better than masturbating to internet porn. Feeling horny and want a better experience than just jerking off? Get an 11 year old girl, she'll do it for you! Act now and get a free membership in the Catholic church! Oh wait, they're into little boys. Nevermind.
My load finally spent and my heart beating like a jackhammer, I sighed in release and looked down to discover where I'd just come.
All over Sara's face.
Some of it was on her forehead, but most of it was splashed across both cheeks and the bridge of her nose, spurted horizontally as she'd jerked her head back and shaken her face in a vain attempt to escape the semen pumping from the dick inches away from it. Her freckles were hidden under globs of white. Some was dripping off the end of her nose onto her thighs, and there was a glob covering her right eye. Her entire face was scrunched in an expression of displeasure, and she slowly opened her left eye, the one not covered in my semen, and released her grip on my rapidly shrinking penis.
"Sorry kiddo, I didn't have time to warn you."
She grimaced and just sat motionless, unsure of what to do. Damn. If only I dared to take a picture of this. Then again, taking photos of naked 11 year olds with your jizz all over their faces was a pretty good way to go to prison and get shanked with a shiv, so I didn't dare to.
I laughed and helped her to her feet.
"You look so funny, kiddo."
She laughed too, holding her hands so she wouldn't drip from her face to the floor.
"You look cute too, with that stuff all over your face."
Did you know you can see a girl blush underneath a layer of semen? Now you do.
I picked her up by the armpits, unnecessarily, and set her in the tub, then rinsed her off again. That done, she climbed out and we both began drying off.
"Thank you for helping me orgasm, Sara. I appreciate that. That was nice of you."
She grinned and looked away shyly. I hugged her naked body to mine for a few moments, then let go and opened the bathroom door.
As I started to step into my room, Sara stopped me by grabbing my hand.
"What's up, kiddo?"
"Um... Can we not tell my brother?"
My knees almost buckled underneath me, I was so relieved. Oh geeze. I was worried about keeping this a secret and afraid to ask her to do so, and SHE was asking ME! Still, I wanted to pretend there was nothing wrong or unusual about what we'd done, so she wouldn't get weirded out by it.
"Sure. But how come?"
She blushed again and twisted away from me at the hips, arms behind her back. I recognized it as a nervous gesture kids often made when they were embarrassed.
"'cause."
"'cause why?"
"Just 'cause."
"Ok. We can keep it a secret. No one else will know, just us. Ok?"
She nodded and smiled.
"Ok."
Then she suddenly hugged me and I got to enjoy the wonderful sensation of her naked body pressed against mine. I hugged her back after a moment of startled surprise, and she slipped out of my arms and skittered into her room, shutting the door behind her.
I went into my room, got dressed, and headed into the living room. Man, I'd really dodged a bullet there! I went way over the line repeatedly this weekend, and even took the risk of doing it again as soon as we got back to the apartment. I must be crazy. I went insane and started lusting after some kid like a pervert, and now I'm so far off the rails I was actively doing things that would forever ruin my life if anyone found out. And she not only didn't seem weirded out by any of it, she wanted to keep it a secret.
That was fine by me!
A minute later, she scampered into the living room and dove onto the couch next to me, dressed in jeans, socks, and a purple t-shirt that made me envy the blind.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
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