Chapter 1

The show was pretty much set up and I finally had a few hours to relax.

I’m an “Event Superintendent,” i.e., road manager, for a large entertainment corporation that has several operational divisions. The division I work for includes seven carnival operations that run carnivals in the central part of the U.S., mostly between the Rockies and the Appalachian Mountains.

Since the carnival business is obviously seasonal – most of our operations are from April through October – they also have a division that owns seven or eight ski areas. Not the big names like Vail or Aspen or Park City – those are owned by just a few giant corporations like the Vail Corporation or Alterra. I guess ours are what you’d call “regional” ski areas – the mid-sized hills, with maybe 500 to 1200 feet elevation, in states like Michigan and Wisconsin and Pennsylvania.

Anyhow, my job is to manage the business end of an operation – arranging the transportation and logistics, getting all the required permits (lots and lots of permits!), proving insurance and posting bonds, arranging with local contractors and with local law enforcement for traffic management and “security” (and making sure that contributions are made to all the correct “welfare funds,” if you get what I’m saying).

The actual carnival operations, the rides and the fun house and the games, are managed by my co-superintendent, Bert. Bert’s responsible for setting up all the rides and making sure they are working properly, dealing with any problems that come up, and making sure that everything is set up right for all the food concessionaires – the stands that sell hot dogs and cotton candy and funnel cakes.

And ice cream, like the frozen custard stand I’m in line for right now.

And I became aware of someone standing “close” to me. Not actually touching me, but ... almost. And then the “someone” moved, just a little, so that now they were standing more beside me than behind me.

I turned and saw a young girl, maybe 14 or so, standing, moving stealthily so that if I didn’t move she’d be standing beside me in a few seconds.

“That ice cream sure looks good, doesn’t it...?” She was looking kind of downward, like she was trying to be coy, and twisting her body back and forth in a way that looked like she was trying to be coquettish, although I doubt she even knew that word.

I kind of got the feeling that I was being hustled to buy her a custard. That’s OK, I didn’t mind being hustled to buy a kid an ice cream cone, especially for a kid who was working for it. Like this girl is now.

“Sure does.” I waited. “Especially on a hot day like this, huh?”

Now that she’d engaged me she made her next move.

“Bet you’d like to buy me a cone, wouldn’tcha’?”

She looked glanced around, like she was trying to see if anyone else was near us, and then before I could say anything she said, “But if you bought me an ice cream, then you’d prob’ly wanna see my titties.”

Okay, that’s a serious escalation to an ice cream hustle. How to play this?

I didn’t think she was serious – I was pretty sure she was just messing with me, trying to tease an old dude (okay, I’m thirty-one, but I’m sure that to her I’m an ‘old dude’). But she was kind of cute, maybe five feet or a little less, with long curly, almost kinky, ginger-colored hair, and she was wearing a short denim skirt and a stretchy tube top that left six inches of her young teen tummy exposed.

I decided to play along, but maybe play hard-to-get.

“I don’t know. Are they pretty?”

Without a moment’s hesitation she said, “Gee, I don’t know, Mister – what do you think?” She let her gaze drop down to her chest.

And I could see the small cones there under the stretchy fabric of her tube top.

And, yes, I was sure that they were very pretty titties indeed.

I looked around, to make sure that no one else could hear our “discussion.” She caught what I was doing and I guess my reaction gave her the confidence to keep going.

“Unless you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t like seeing girl’s titties.”

“No, I think most men would enjoy seeing your titties.” What the hell am I thinking, saying stuff like this, to a girl like this?

“How ‘bout you? Would you like to see my titties?”

Okay, this has gone a whole lot farther than it should have. I’ve got to de-escalate the dialog, but also without hurting her feelings or embarrassing her.

“Tell you what. Let’s get that ice cream cone and then we’ll see about it, okay?”

I stepped up to the older guy at the counter.

“Two medium cones, please.” The man drew the frozen custard and I put my money on the counter and took the two cones and gave one to ... I don’t know her name.

“Here,” and she took the cone and licked it. With her eyes cast up at me to make sure I was watching, she ran her tongue around the swirly tip several times before putting her lips around it and finally sucking it into her mouth.

I was pretty sure that now she’d gotten me to buy her a custard she’d drop the whole titties thing. I was mistaken.

“So ... now that you bought me an ice cream, I guess you wanna see my titties, huh?”

And, dumbly, I said, “Yes, I do.”

What the hell am I thinking?? I thought that this whole thing was just a little game – a young girl practicing using her “charms” to get an older guy to get a free ice cream cone and that it would stop the moment she got her ice cream. And that I would let it stop.

But instead, here I am, saying, yes – yes, I want to see her – your – “titties.”

“So, ... do ya’ know someplace we can go so you can get a good look?” Then she added, “That way you can see enough to tell me if they’re pretty or not.”

So, yeah – I “knew someplace” where we could go so that I “could get a good look.”

I knew, but I also knew that it was crazy. I mean, what the fuck could be going through my head? I’m a thirty year old man, and even considering going off “someplace” with a girl this young – even though she is kind of cute, maybe even a little sexy, still...

And then I realized, it wasn’t my head that was thinking. It was my “other head” – the little one – that was making me play along with this child’s suggestive – and grossly inappropriate – teasing. It’s been a lean summer for me. Wherever we go there are always some girls who come to a carnival like this hoping to find a little fun, so I’m usually able to get a little action at least once a week, or at least every two weeks.

But, nope – not this season. Things have been so busy that I haven’t had the chance to meet any townies looking for the chance to misbehave and hook up with a carnival guy.

And that’s why instead of letting her know that her game has just come to the end I found myself saying, “I think I know just the place.”

And I did. Having worked for the carnival since I took a summer job with them back when I was in high school I knew every square inch of the layout. Here in Spring Grove the carnival is in a large park that extends right up to a forest preserve, and the Fun House is at the back of the park, right up against the woods so nobody has any reason to go back behind it. And I knew that at the rear of the Fun House is a door that leads into a work and storage area inside.

And that no one would be going in there until it’s time to take the carnival down ten days from now.

Then I had the presence of mind to realize that anyone seeing a man like me walking off toward the woods with a girl like her might attract some attention.

“Tell you what. I’m going to walk down here and then turn. You wait a minute and then walk down this way, too, like maybe you’re going to the toilets, but instead you turn left and follow where I went. Okay?”

Also, I figured that once I walked off, that that would give her the chance to change her mind and walk away if she wanted to.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure which I wanted – for her to walk away, or to follow me behind the Fun House. Without looking at her I turned and started walking down the path past the custard booth, all the way to the woods. When I got to the end of the path I veered off in the direction of the Fun House.

And I waited. Didn’t even want to risk a peek. Either she’d chicken-out, or else she’d follow me.

I wasn’t sure which I wanted more. But in about twenty seconds I saw her. She stopped and looked around. Then she saw me and turned and came over to where I was standing.

Okay. This is real. It’s gonna happen. Unless I suddenly develop some sense and call this off right now before things go too far and get out of hand.

I smiled and turned toward that back door. I knew the combination for the padlock – it’s been the same combination since I bought the lock nine years ago. I removed the lock and held the door open for ... for ... I don’t even know this girl’s name!

I switched on the light. She didn’t seem to be the least bit put off by the fact that the room was almost empty and smelled slightly musty because it’s been closed up for the greater part of a week. If I thought this was going to be awkward I was mistaken.

“So ... you wanna do this?” and before I could say a word she hopped up on a workbench and pulled her stretchy tube top up, completely exposing both her tits.

“Well, do ya’ like ‘em –

“Do you think they’re pretty?” But there wasn’t any question in her voice – she knew.

Yes, they’re very pretty.

I instantly felt my throat go dry. Somehow I managed to squeak out a strangled “Yes...”

Now that they weren’t compressed by the stretch fabric of her brief tube top, the sweet little bumps I saw when she first came up to me in the ice cream line now formed sweet little cones, each capped by firm red-brown nipples the size of small gumdrops.

I had no idea what’s “expected” in a situation like this. It hit me: I’ve never been with a girl this young (however old she is, that is). When I was that age and should have been fooling around with girls in my grade I was spending all my time fucking my mother and my older step-sister. So I had to wait till I was thirty to finally get into a 14-year-old’s pants.

She and I just looked each other. I was looking at the perfect little breasts – tits – that were on display in front of me, and she looked down, at her totally exposed breasts and then back up at me, waiting for me to do... something.

Finally, I guess she got tired of waiting for me to come out of my trance, or my indecision. She took the custard cone she was still holding and moved it up to her left breast, and she looked at me. I still didn’t know what to do and just stared back at her.

When I didn’t do anything she tipped the cone till the frozen custard was touching her breast. She pressed it to her and she moved it around, spreading the cold custard on the perfect, smooth skin, making sure that lots of the frozen dessert accumulated on the tip. And she looked at me.

I’m smart enough to know what you do with ice cream. Without even asking I stepped toward her and leaned forward and touched, then put my lips around the cream-covered breast. At first I just took the nipple. But then I opened my mouth farther and took the entire creamy tit into my mouth.

At first I just... held it – held it in my mouth. But then the girl (again, I realize that I still don’t know her name!) turned her chest a little more toward me, giving me a gentle “nudge” that I needed to be doing more.

So I began to suck – not really “suck,” but just ran my lips over the small breast and was amazed at how soft the skin was. Yes, I’m familiar with breasts, and I know how soft the skin is. But this – she – was different from any other breasts I ever touched. Her skin was softer and the touch was so satiny – I can’t explain.

So I held her breast in my mouth, and I ran my tongue around it, over that amazing, satiny skin. Then I withdrew a little so that now just the nipple, stiff from the cold ice cream she’d smeared on it, and the puckered skin around it were between my lips.

And now I sucked. Gently at first, but then I sensed that she wanted me to be a little more... ambitious – to suck harder, to show her how much I liked it, how much her tit excited me. So I sucked harder and felt my cock thickening from the excitement of sucking that lovely young tit...

Until she pushed me back, gently.

What?

Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough, too “energetic” sucking her tit? Or had this gone farther than she ever intended and now she was having second thoughts about the whole thing – about being her, alone, with me...?

No.

Instead of pushing me away and pulling her top down and covering those luscious young titties, she moved her cone to her other breast and gave it the same yummy ice cream bath she’d given the first one. Once again, it was obvious what I was expected to do.

When I moved my head toward her left breast she kind of slid down, so now she was more leaning back against the bench rather than sitting on it. I reached for her hip to steady her – and myself – in this new position. But when my hand touched what I thought would be her denim skirt I felt – nothing. Yes, when she slid off the bench her skirt hiked up and my hand was touching bare young-girl flesh. I couldn’t let this go.

“Was someone naughty this morning and didn’t put on underpants...?”

Without hesitating she said, simply, “Nah. I put ‘em on but I slipped ‘em off after my dad dropped me off here and put ‘em in my purse,” gesturing to the small quilted bag that was somehow still slung over her shoulder.

That’s even better! I immediately had a wicked thought.

“Is your bottom as pretty as your titties?”

Like she wasn’t the least bit offended – or surprised – she said, “Gee, I don’t know, Mister – maybe you’ll have to see for yourself and then you can tell me.”

Okay, now there’s no question. This girl admitted that she actually came here with a plan to do something where her underpants would just be in the way.

“If your bottom’s as pretty as your titties maybe we can find someplace where you can show it to me so that I can see if it’s as pretty as I bet it is.” And then I thought, not wanting to take things farther than she really wanted to go, I added, “How does that sound – is that something we should do?”

Her response – “Yeah.”

I let go of her and she got off the bench and smoothed her skirt and said, “Where do you wanna go?”

I looked and smiled.

“Don’t you want to pull that down first?” nodding toward her top that was still pushed up above her tits.

“Oh. Yeah.”

I opened the door, flicked off the lights, closed the door and put the padlock back on, and without saying anything more I started walking toward my trailer.