Chapter 4: Angel’s Continuing Education Program

The last thing Angel said to me when I let her off two blocks from her house was, “Next week my folks are goin’ to some aunt’s funeral in Bridgeport so I can be here earlier,” she stopped suddenly, like she’d said something wrong.

“Oh, I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to ... I mean, if it’s okay with you...”

More hours to enjoy the delights of Angel? Yes, it’s “okay” with me.

So I’m back at the park again, at 10:30 today, and I can barely keep my hands off my crotch. I can’t wait to get my hands – and other things – on – and in – that succulent little piece.

This week has dragged on forever. Yeah, I went to work, and it was an average busy week, and there were a couple of good games on TV, and I got together with the guys for our regular Wednesday poker-and-lying night. (And NO, I don’t tell them about my “other career” or about what I did last weekend!)

Yeah, I washed the sheets – and made sure the mattress pad and the plastic mattress cover were in place and smoothed out. Just hopin’...

And restocked the fridge, made sure to get more Frappachinos – A seems to like those. And more frozen custard and the banana cream pudding – that sure worked out well! And some juicy ripe strawberries. I was salivating at thoughts of what I could do with those strawberries. Only it wasn’t my mouth – it was my brain that was salivating. With her coming earlier this time, I figured A and I could order out for pizzas later.

And then it hit me – when did I start thinking of Angel as “A”?

So, yeah, I’m waiting in my van at the park, and just when I’m afraid I’m going to squeeze one off and ruin the whole afternoon I see Angel coming across the grass. She’s wearing her usual white Keds tennis shoes and a white jersey pullover and a skirt. Before when I’ve seen her she’s only been wearing shorts or cut-offs, and I think, “She looks really hot in that skirt.” It was short – maybe not even to mid-thigh, and it showed off those sturdy tan legs, and it’s already got me thinking about putting my head in between them – which might just have been her idea from the start! When she gets closer I see that her jersey is so thin, or maybe so washed-thin, that it’s easy to see her dark nipples through the shirt.

So I open the door and she gets in and she leans over, like to kiss me, like we did when we said goodbye last week, but I say, “Not here – there’s people around that might see us.” She was disappointed but she understood.

I tried to console her by saying, “Plenty of time for all the kissing – and other stuff – we want this afternoon.” She seemed good with that.

But once we got around the corner and on the street that becomes the road that leads out to my subdivision she gets this smile. She lifts her hips and slides down in the car seat, and she slides the white denim skirt up. And she’s bare! I mean bare-bare! No underpants – and no soft fuzz! The little tramp has shaved herself, smooth as a peach. Come to think of it, it does look like a peach, all pink and smooth and with the crease down the middle...

I almost drive into a fire hydrant thinking about getting into that little succulent little peach of hers.

She smiles. I don’t think she’s very experienced with men but she has enough instincts to know what effect her little display is having on me.

So we get to my house by a different route this time. I pull into the garage and close the door, and Angel is already out of the car and into the house, and now that she knows where, she heads straight through the door and down the stairs to the playroom.

And this time there’s no seduction. She doesn’t need any lead-up. Angel apparently knows what she wants, and what she wants is more of what we did last Saturday. As soon as I close the basement door and reach the bottom of the stairs she turned and stood in front of me, so close that I could feel her breath – it smelled like spice, like cinnamon chewing gum.

She looked right in my eyes and the challenge was obvious. She put her hands behind my head and opened her lips and pulled me to her. We mouthed each other for only a few seconds before she said, “Touch me” and took my hand and pulled it down under that sexy, almost obscenely short white denim skirt. Looks like naive, inexperienced little Angel has learned some things. Yeah, she’s certainly come out of her shell – if she ever had one.

My hand touches bare flesh, and I’m shocked – until I remember that she’s not wearing panties, and also, that she shaved her pussy. But I get over my shock in about a second and my middle finger finds it’s way into that peach slit – real easy, since her little “peach” is simply gushing.

I work my finger around inside her and I’m not bothering to be gentle about it. She’s so turned on that I’m pretty sure she doesn’t care about “gentle.” And I must’ve played it right because in 15 seconds she’s cumming. And I’m not surprised when I feel the little squirts of pee on my fingers.

I feel as her body sags on my hand, the hand that’s now holding her up by her pussy. I put my free arm around her and shuffle both of us over to the futon couch and guide us both down.

I thought she’d want to rest some, maybe recover a little from her sudden orgasm. Wrong.

“Mike, I been thinking about this all week, since the last time. Mike, do ya’ think we can fuck – you know, like we did last time...?”

Yes, darling Angel, I know about “last time.” And I know the first rule of salesmanship: “Stop talking when the customer says yes.”

She must’ve seen it in my eyes because the next thing she says is, “Can we fold open the bed and do it on that?”

So I move her stuff – it’s a big tote bag this time – over into the corner behind the stairs, and Angel already has a start on unfolding the mattress.

Also, on taking off her thin jersey and the ultra-short skirt.

This time she even kicks off her Keds without my reminding her.

So she’s standing there totally bare, including her newly-bare snatch, and says, “C’mon, Mike, help me get this thing open.”

So I give the substantial mattress a flip from my side, then hurry to catch up with Angel’s fashion example.

She stands in front of me and she puts her hands on my shoulders firmly but she doesn’t push.

“Mike, can we this time, can I be on top, kinda like we did the first time, on the couch, but with you laying on the bed this time?”

So, one – she’s thought about this and knows what she wants. And two – she really wants to fuck!

So I lay down – actually, I let her guide me down, the way she wants me, on the mattress, and then she gets on the mattress and stands on her knees over me. She starts to get into position, with her pussy right over my cock – oh, yeah, it’s already erect by now - like I guided her the first time, when I think, “Angel, honey, shouldn’t we use some lube fir...?”

“Nah,” as she positions the opening to her new peachslit snatch right over the tip of my cock, “I put some in me when I was waiting in the park shelter house.”

I tried to imagine just how she’d pull something like that off in the semi-public area like the shelter, but then I got distracted by the wet pussy that somehow was touching my cock.

Yup, lubricated – as advertised.

She lowered herself onto my cock, and from this position I could see everything, like the strained look on her face as she lowers herself onto me and takes more and more of my thick cock into her teenage cunt. And how her look relaxes once she’s got me all the way in.

She sits there like that for a minute, to get used to the feeling of having a chunk of manmeat up inside her, and maybe also just enjoying the feeling – full, stretched.

She looked down at me and she smiled– and the sense of satisfaction, like she’s thinking, “Yeah, I did it. I got a real man to fuck me, and I like it, and I hope he does it lots more.”

Yeah, I could tell that’s what she’s thinking.

And what I’m thinking is, I’m lying here on my back looking up at a juicy 15-year-old that I just enticed into my nondescript van only three weeks ago and who was eager for me to fuck her the minute we get into my basement playroom.

How lucky is this!

And also, just how far can I take things with this girl who, it seems, might be up for anything?

So I’m looking up, at her Hispanic – or Asian, or both – face and her dark hair and the perfect cone-shaped tits (which look like they might be slightly larger than when I first saw them three weeks ago) and which I’m fondling right now, sliding my hands over the soft skin, tweaking and rolling the stiff brown nipples between my thumb and fingers, and feeling her warm, wet teenage cunt that the little slut lubed up while she was waiting for me...

And while we’re fucking like this, my one hand finds its way around her, like I’m going to squeeze her ass. But instead I stick out my finger and start rubbing it over her puckered little asshole. And since it’s already wet and sweaty there, I stretch my finger down to where her pussy’s swallowing my cock and I scoop up some of the juice from there onto my finger and then move my finger back and press it into her little asshole and work it around inside her there.

“Oh, shit, Mike – you’re finger’s up my butt...!””Yeah, Angel, honey, my finger’s up your butthole.”

Then, “Do you like it like this – do you like how my finger feels, moving around inside your butthole?”

She doesn’t answer, just squirms, like she’s trying to get away from the strange thing that’s inside her, but also trying to get her clit to rub against my cock more.

And I realize that it’s gotten to me – the whole situation, of how we got here, plus the things that I’m looking at and feeling while we’re like this – fucking – that I know I’m gonna cum, like ... quick!

“Angel, honey, are ya’ ready? Cause you got me so hot I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Angel didn’t even bother to answer, just put her hand between her legs and started squeezing her clit and in seconds her hips were bucking on me and she’s leaning forward and grinding her clit against the top of my cock so hard that it hurts some...

And then she cums.

She cums really hard.

And that about does it for me. My prostate starts clenching and I didn’t intend to cum this time, wanted to save myself for the whole afternoon ahead, but this scene with Angel is so fuckin’ hot that I lose it. I try to control myself but, well, you know...

So I try to control myself, try to think of other stuff, to save myself for more things later, but I still feel myself emptying a good portion of my balls into her sweet teen cunt.

Angel collapses on top of me and I put my arms around her, and I find myself stroking her hair and telling her how wonderful it was and how pretty...

No, caught myself just in time. I don’t want anything romantic to enter into our sex – or into my thinking about her.

After a while I rolled her off me.

“I got an idea. Wait here.”

I got up and went over to the shelf where I put the snacks and picked up the cellophane wrapper with the little Twinkie-like snack cakes, then walked back to the bed.

“I don’t know about you, Angel, but all that good fucking gave me an appetite. In fact, you know what would really be good right now? Cream-filled cakes.”

She obviously didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.

“Look,” and I opened the wrapper and held one of the cakes in front of her. “Got any ideas?” and I looked down toward her crotch.

The light bulb seemed to go on.

She relaxed and spread her legs. I put the cake in between her legs and she opened them wider and I slid the oblong cake up through her spread slit – up through that slit that was dripping with my cum and her juices.

I got a good load of the creamy goo on the cake and held it up where we could both see it – the gooey white cream on the yellow sponge cake. I raised it to my mouth and smelled it. It smelled of sweet cake and sex. I put it against my lips, just for a moment, then opened my mouth and bit off maybe a third of the cake and rolled it around in my mouth, showing her how much I enjoyed how that soggy cake felt in my mouth.

I held the remainder up to Angel and she didn’t even hesitate. She opened up and took all the remaining cake into her mouth, and like I did, she made a show of chewing it and pushing it around with her tongue. But then she took me by surprise when she put her arm around my neck and pulled my mouth down to hers and opened her mouth and let her tongue push half of the funky-tasting mush back into my mouth.

And with our mouths like that, mashed together, we tasted and swapped the obscene mess back and forth between us until we came to some kind of silent agreement and both swallowed.

Angel looked straight into my eyes. “More.” Not a question.

I took out the other cake and Angel seemed to know that she needed to get on her knees so that more of our sex juices would flow out of her cunt so I could sop them up with the spongy cake. Now that I knew she was into this I pressed the cake harder against her, this time forcing some of it up inside her. So far, in fact, that to get it out I had to curve my finger to pull it out of her soppy snatch. I brought the mashed cake up to her and she opened her mouth but she didn’t make any move to take it. Instead she let me hold it there in front of her open mouth until I got the idea and put my mouth next to hers and we both shared the pasty ball of cum cake...

I just couldn’t take it any more. Without taking my mouth away from Angel’s I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed and jammed my cock into her. Mashing open mouths, the taste of our shared sex between us, I fucked her. No finesse, no technique, just hammering lust.

And Angel was just as wild, clawing at my back, biting my lips and chin, and all the time crying things to encourage me – “Rape me, Mike! God, I’m so fucking hot! Oh, yeah – fuck the shit out of me Rape me, Mike – rape me – oh god, make me dirty...”~ ~ ~

I’ve cum in Angel three times now, and, no, I’m not worried about her getting pregnant (by me, at least!). Back when I decided that marriage was not for me and that there were other ways for me to “have” children (if you catch my meaning!) I got myself snipped. So, no, I’m not worried about getting Angel – or any of my other “proteges” – pregnant.~ ~ ~

“Want something to drink?”

I got some drinks out of the fridge and when I got back Angel was waiting for me to help her get the mattress back onto the futon so we could sit there. She and I have gotten rather good at this by now.

“So, Angel, didja like what we just did?”

She took a drink of her Monster Moca Java.

“Like, which part...?”

“Well, everything. But I was thinking especially about the last part ... you know, with my finger...?”

“Yuh.” Then she thought she should say more. “I liked it.”

“And is that all ... that you just ‘liked it’... ?”

“Well ... I guess I liked it a lot. ‘Fact...,” and she smiled, “I liked it a real lot. I guess I came real hard that way, di’nt I?

“But do other people really do stuff like that, with their fingers in the other person’s butt and stuff...?”

Here’s where I plant the ideas.

“Yeah, in fact, lots of people do.” Lots, lots-and-lots, gazillions of people do – the whole universe does!

“Lots of people like sex like that, with fingers in each other...,” and here’s the idea, “ ... and lots of other things, too...”

I had some other plans for this afternoon’s recreation and education. But then I sneak a look at the clock that I keep kinda tucked away in a corner so my “guests” won’t be looking at it and thinking about the time or about how much time has passed.

But right now the clock tells me that with the fingering as soon as we got downstairs, and then the fucking and fingering and the cum-soaked cake eating and the cum-soaked cake fucking, and with the brief discourse about butt fingering, that Angel and I have had a busy morning.

“Hungry, Angel?”

“Yeah. ‘Fact, now that you mention it, real hungry.”

“Yeah, wonder what we did that might have made us so hungry...?” She laughed and threw a pillow at me.

“How about I order out for pizza, that sound good? What kinds do you like?”

“I like cheese.”

“Anything else?”

“Nuh, just plain cheese.”

Big surprise there, huh?

So I called Geppetto’s and ordered a medium cheese and a medium sausage, then thought about it and added a double order of their Cinnamon Knots – yeah, I know we just had the snack cakes drowned in our “special topping” but I thought those were less of a dessert and more of an “appetizer.” Nothing with garlic. And I figured we already had enough drinks.

While I was on the phone Angel went into the 3/4-bathroom to pee and I got back to the basement just when she was coming out, and for the first time in ... in a while I got to take a good look at her, just standing there, completely naked. And she looked exactly like what she is – a healthy 15-year-old girl, with dark hair in a ponytail and slightly exotic features and perfect pointy growing tits and firm, straight legs with generous thighs – and now, a freshly bare snatch! I couldn’t help myself.

I put my arms around her and turned her so the she was snuggled back against me. I nuzzled her neck and breathed in the smell of her shampoo, and I feel her body against me, feel that smooth young skin and those firm round buttocks pressing against me, and I feel my cock thickening in the crack between them. And I’m not believing how lucky I am, picking up Angel on the street that rainy afternoon three weeks ago.