Hi. My name is Megan. I’m a 25 year old, blue-eyed brunette; cute as a button, with a great smile and a cheerful personality. I’m tall, with an athletic but feminine figure. No, really, that’s what I look like. I’m considered pretty with a healthy, fresh-scrubbed, girl-next-door look about me. I wear my hair in a ponytail and I live in a hi-rise condo on Miami Beach. Nice, right?

Maybe it’s because my eyes shine when I smile or when I laugh but I seem to have one of those faces that people can’t help but trust. I’m well liked and well thought of ... which is all fine with me because underneath it all? I’m a stealthy, sexual predator and I use my tools to get what I want. (Insert both happy face and face with black eye- mask emojis. Yeah, baby.)

Don’t get me wrong. I delight in a roll in the sack with grown up guys or gals; often in creative configurations, and I’ve always loved older men for a really appreciative fuck. But for the sheer adrenalized sexual rush of it ... give me a teener anytime, boy or girl, the younger and more inexperienced the better. (Licking my lips.)

I’ve been crazy horny the last few days, so yesterday, in the early afternoon and where I live, I took a walk along Miami Beach’s Lincoln Rd (the main drag around here to meet and greet) to do some sexy people watching and to see what tasty youthful delights I might be able to conjure up. Or at least drool over. I do some of my best work during the daytime.

I was wearing an orange sundress, a pair of flats, a Miami Dolphins baseball cap and big sun glasses. Little ol’ Miami me. (I looked cool, dude, so are you getting ready to jerk off?)

There were a lot of people out strolling; listening to live tunes or maybe they were there for lunch at one of the outdoor cafes. A lot of them were young and beautiful and a lot of them were tourists. You can tell the tourists easily enough. Their skin is the color of copy paper and they wear shorts, even when it’s in the 50s, while we’re freezing to death. What ever. Come on down. Spend money. Support the local economy.

At this point, I want the reader to understand that I really like older men and women (Shameless pimping of other stories on my page) but generally they don’t make me salivate. Younger boys and girls make me salivate. And that’s what I was in the mood for: salivating. Salivating over younger boys and girls. Hunting. Getting my 25 year old pussy licked by something young. Really young, like 10 or 11 years old, if the opportunity presented itself ... but there are problems associated with that, so I leave them be. But even thinking about them gets me going, so I’m going to stop now and put my fingers inside my panties and finger myself to orgasm ... whew, that was nice.

Schew (drops of perspiration flying off me), that was nice. Insert your own emoji. Mox nix to me, schweetheart ... Bogy-esque?

Among all the Brazilians and Latinos and Yuppies and artsy types and arm-in-arm lovers and tourists, I spied these 2 shaggy, blond haired high school surfer boys who looked really interesting. They were locals in torn jean cut-offs, walking together, laughing and making a lot of noise and I followed them for a while, thinking this would be fun and easy. They were hunks and it made me drool, thinking about sucking and fucking a couple of hard-as-iron high school cocks, with asses so tight you could bounce quarters off them and I started mapping out my approach when I laid eyes on two kids so yummie delicious that my heart pounded and my pussy ached and I forgot about the jocks.

I paced myself, so I was walking almost along side them. Close but not too close.

Obviously, they were tourists, about 14 and looked so wholesomely all-American, they were like out of a post card. They were pale, of course and had that mid west look to them. Maybe Wisconsin or Minnesota? The boy was short, maybe 5’, lean build, sandy blond hair, freckles and very handsome, almost pretty if you know what I mean? He looked a little like Leonard DiCaprio in This Boys Life. He was wearing a garish red, black and silver t-shirt, a pair of really awful stripped Bermuda shorts and sneakers. If I were the fashion police I would have to kill him but then, I had other plans in mind.

The girl was a pretty thing, also about 5’ but generally bigger with just a little meat around her hips and thighs, which looked more muscle than chunky. Nice smile. Light brown hair. Parted on the right, with bangs over her left eye and a pony tail. She was wearing a white, sleeveless blouse, with a cute little collar. It buttoned down the front and was purposely short, exposing a flat belly. The material was thin enough that you could see her bra underneath, which was also white. She had modest boobs, somewhere between an oh-so-sweet A and a B cup. Oh so VERY sweet. She was wearing a pair of yellow shorts that came down to mid thigh and fit her tight around her ass and her thighs. She had on flip/flops. She had a healthy glow about her. Oh. My. God. Be still my throbbing cunt.

They were definitely not brother and sister. Maybe boyfriend and girlfriend? I scanned the area, looking for parents. Not seeing any probables, I wondered where they were and how much time I had.

I approached them and in my most cheerful: “Hey, guys. How ya doin’? You from outta town? Checking out the sights here on South Beach?”

The reader should know, in a situation like this, I have all the advantages. A man could never get away with approaching young kids like this but because of my gender, my looks and how I present, I can do pretty much anything I want. I’m the older but not too much older, non-threatening, pretty lady. Pretty predator lady. (I’m thinking Cat Woman would be a nice look for me right here.)

The boy was a little shy, a little self conscious but not the girl. She spoke right up.

“Yeah, hi. We’re from Illinois; Springfield and we’re here with our parents. This is our first time to Florida, much less South Beach. Do you live here, Miss? Right here on South Beach?”

Oh, fur sure, fuck me. LOL. My lizard brain was in overdrive. Grrr, FUCK!.

“It sure is, guys. World famous South Beach.” I was having fun, playing the role. “The ocean, by the way, is right over there”, I said, pointing towards the Atlantic (I was being deliciously charming here.) “and Miami is that way”, pointing in the opposite direction and the downtown hi rise office buildings across from Biscayne Bay. “My name is Megan. Very nice to meet you”, extending my hand and shaking theirs.

Reader: You still with me? Great story coming. Stay with me, here. Thank you.

“My name is Willie”, the girl said, shaking my hand enthusiastically. And this is Brandon, my boyfriend. Nice to meet you, Megan.”

Wow, what a smile. How nice. (I’m using their real names here, so the reader can better get into and enjoy the experience. Willie and Brandon ... young teeners. 14. Eat my pussy, kids. Stroke your cock, readers.)

Damn, this girl was fun. Don’t ya just wanna eat up little girls, right through their pink fucking cotton panties? Oh my fucking fuck, yeah, man. Oh, fuck ... ha, ha. Ahhh ... young pussy. (Insert happy face.)

“Yeah. You too, guys but even though there’s a lot of people here, I’m a little surprised to see you walking around alone.”

I continued to scan the area.

“So tell me, guys ... uhh, are your parents around?”

“Oh, just MY parents”, said Willie. “Brandon is traveling with us.”

She smiled at him. Her eyes twinkling as she took his hand. (Aww ... they’re so cute. I wonder how far they’ve gone? I got a quick image of them shyly groping one another. Has he gotten his hands inside her panties yet? Feel her wet muffin? Ummm?)

“They’re at a concert at some theater”, said Willie. “They told us we could walk around but we had to stay on the main street, be back at the hotel by 6, in time for dinner and not to talk to strangers, except you don’t seem like a stranger, Megan. You seem very nice.”

Brandon smiled and nodded his approval. There was that look in his eye. I think he just noticed I was hot. Ha, ha, ha.

“Well I’m very glad you think so”, I said with a cheery smile.

Back by 6:00? Let’s see ... it’s 1:00 now, so cool, I have plenty of time ... but not forever.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying, guys but you seem kind of young to be out and around on your own, on Lincoln Rd.”

“Oh, we’re both 14”, Brandon said proudly, as if that were a shield against predators.

14? ‘That is so fucking nice’, I thought to myself. 14 years old. Really nice. Whoa, this is looking up. I like to know the ages of the teeners and tweeners I’m perving on and like I said, the younger they are, the bigger the kick. So I’m a perv. I can live with that. (Some day I’ll tell you about the shit I was into at 14.)

They were delightful ... naive, sweet and charming. As I was talking to them, I was taking them in, perving on them. My mouth on Willie’s tender 14 year old pussy. I wonder if she shaves? Ordinarily I’d bet no but for a Mid West girl’s first trip to sexy South Beach, yeah she might have shaved and she might even have brought some thongs with her that she thinks her mother doesn’t know about, which of course is bullshit, because moms always know about that stuff.

I also thought of my hand stroking Brandon’s 14 year old, rock hard cock before taking it into my mouth and then up my cunt. He was beautiful and was all innocence-desirable but Willie’s healthy looks, her youth and her personality ... she had me salivating, which was my original intent. This was going to be fun, if I can make it happen. My pussy was getting wet and it was time to get things moving.

“Hey guys ... wanna get a soda and a slice of pizza? Can’t come to South Beach without getting a slice of Lincoln Road pizza.”

“Good idea”, said Willie. She looked at Brandon with a we’re-going- to-go-with-Megan-and-we’re-going-to-get-a-soda-and-pizza look. Shazaam, I got ‘em! The girl was the key. I knew that young Brandon’s young cock was already throbbing in his underwear. (OMG, yummies!) But now I knew that Willie was mine as well. Megan-girl just needs to reel them in. With a little chemical help.

I started us walking towards a by-the-slice pizza place I knew. We ordered slices and sodas. I slipped a couple of roofies into their drinks and we went to sit down at one of the outdoor tables. What? Yes, roofies. I didn’t have 2 weeks here. I had a few hours and I needed to make sure. Come on, don’t judge. I said I was a predator.

We started by making small talk but I steered them toward their relationship. 3 months together? How nice. Going steady? Aww. Have you done it yet? Embarrassed looks in both their faces. No? Oh well.

“Oh, no”, said Willie. “We’re not ready for that yet. It’s not that we don’t want to, ya know? I mean we think about it. And we talk about it an’ all.” She looked at Brandon with a shy smile. He looked embarrassed.

“Then, do you take care of each other’s needs?”

“Uhhhh?”

They looked at one another a little sheepishly. Brandon was wiggling awkwardly, although I got the impression Willie would have liked to talk about it some more. OK, they’d been making out ... exploring.

It was show time, folks.

“Tell you what guys ... I live in a tall hi rise a few blocks from here. I live high up, right on the beach, with great views of everywhere. A for- real South Beach condo. I’ve got sodas and munchies. Why don’t we go up and hang out for a while? I’ll make sure you’re home in time for supper.”

Not waiting for an answer, I stood up but when I leaned over to pick up my soda cup I gave the 14 year old boy from Illinois a nice look down the front of my sun dress, so he could see most of my boobs hanging in my bra. He made a cute little guttural sound. Ha, ha, ha ... it’s so easy. (I’m sorry, readers ... it really is.)

Willie got up but Brandon hesitated. Aww ... he had an erection. Ha, ha. We gave him a minute ... me and Willie bonding by teasing him and enjoying his discomfort.

“Boys!”, Willie said conspiratorially, rolling her eyes for effect. Brandon, of course, was mortified.

We walked to my hi rise. It was big and white, like others near it but to make sure they didn’t see an address or get a good fix on the location, I brought us up by a side entrance. I didn’t want this coming back on me.

I’m on the 23rd floor and it really is a nice view. Very airy. Lots of glass. Lots of plants and earth tone furniture and paintings. Very Miami. You’d like it.

“Wow” they both muttered, trying to look everywhere at once.

“Make yourselves comfortable, guys. I’ll put on some music and get you some sodas and a glass of wine for myself.” (Kids. I had kids in my apartment. 14 year old kids. Fuck, yeah.)

(OK, readers ... I know roofies and alcohol can be dangerous when used together. I wasn’t trying to kill them ... just fuck them. I offered them a little of my wine and figured that would be OK, OK? So we won’t talk about this anymore.)

“Gee, Megan. We’re not allowed to drink wine. Well, OK, maybe a sip on special occasions.”

“But this is a special occasion, guys, so it’s OK.”

They accepted eagerly and within seconds, they looked a little flush. It was time.

They were on the couch and I sat across from them, my legs uncrossed and spread a little, my skirt hiked up well above my knees. They could probably see my panties. Both of them were looking between my legs. Willie had a curious look in her face. Brandon was getting his hard-on back.

“What do you say we go out on the balcony, guys. Let’s look at the view.”

They were a little unsteady, so I knew the drug and the wine were having their effect.

I got up and motioned for them to follow me onto the balcony. I walked in the middle and took their hands in mine. We went to the railing and leaned over. I let go of their hands and draped my arms over their shoulders.

“Isn’t this fun?” I leaned to my left and kissed Willie on her cheek and kind of nuzzled her neck a little. She turned her head, looked up into my eyes, gave me an angelic smile and kissed me back. I squeezed her shoulder. Then I turned to Brandon and did the same with him. He may be only 14 but there was no mistaking the desire in his face ... or in his pants. His hard-on was growing.

“Willie?”

“Um?”

“Willie, you seem like a very grown up, very sophisticated girl.”

“Oo, thank you, Megan. You really think so?”

“Yeah, I think so. Let me ask you a question.”

“Sure, what?”

“Well, I’m really turned on to Brandon, Willie. Would you mind if I kissed him? On the lips? With my tongue?”

I didn’t wait for an answer. I swiveled in front of the startled boy, put one hand behind his head and pulled him to me. I kissed him wet with my tongue. He kissed me back, almost gagging me with the eagerness of his violently probing tongue. Well, what did you expect? With my other hand, I reached down and fondled his boy-cock through his shorts. Nice and hard. Very hard. He pushed into my hand.

“What are you doing, Megan?”, Willie asked, concerned, only because she was inexperienced.

I pulled my mouth off her boyfriend’s face, turned to her and she says:

“You’re making out with my boyfriend, Megan. I’m not sure we should be doing ... oomph.” I let go of Brandon, grabbed her behind her head and kissed her on her mouth; softly at first, then harder. Our tongues explored one another’s mouths and lips. I let go of the boy’s cock and turned completely to his girlfriend. I embraced her and rubbed my belly into hers.

“But Megan, I never ... mmmphlf.”

“Shh, baby. Does it feel good?”

“Mlphmf ... Well yes, it does, Megan, but ... mmblmfbt...”

Embracing the pretty, 14 year old girl (I want the reader to think about this ... a 14 year old girl? About the age of your daughter, right? Or your grand-daughter? It’s OK. It’ll be our little secret. You’d like to see her in her underwear. Dude, it’s OK. Now stroke your cock for me. I want to watch.

I kissed her again. I took one arm off her back and felt her breast, pinching her nipple through the thin fabric of her blouse and young girl’s bra. She had a dreamy look in her face. I would see that look again.

“Brandon? Sometimes, do you feel Willie’s breast like I’m feeling her’s right now? Or do you touch her down here, between her thighs?”, As I reached down to cup her young pussy through her shorts and get an “ummm” and a smile.