Camille had gotten herself in an awful fix. She came to the mall with her friend Stacy and her mom. When they finished shopping and were leaving, Cammy told them she was going to have her mom pick her up. The young brunette had noticed the boys looking at her, and didn't want to go home yet.

It was her skirt, she knew. It was really short and floppy. Just about every inch of her bare legs showed under it. Cammy's mom would never have let her out in public in it, not by herself. Only because Stacy's mom would be with them was the child allowed to wear it. And for some reason all the guys at the mall had to look at her.

Not that she minded. Cammy didn't understand it. She was only seven years old and not sexy at all. The way her skirt swished around the tops of her legs and slapped under her behind when she walked made her feel sexy though. It was an exciting sensation that the brunette hadn't had enough of when Stacy had to go. And, now that she was alone in the mall, Cammy felt like being naughty too.

She walked around the stores telling herself not to. That's how girls get in trouble, that much she knew. Ton the other hand, the wonderful feeling of butterflies going wild inside her was too much to ignore. Besides. she would probably never have a chance like this again. The idea of someone -- some guy -- seeing her underpants made her head spin.

The moral side of Cammy's brain finally shut down. She got so dizzy she almost fell over. Holding onto the edge of a table full of T-shirts until the spell passed, the little brunette made her mind think of an excuse to bend over. It was obvious, of course, and she leaned over the piles of shirts to select one from the middle.

Right away she knew it wouldn't work. Unless some boy was sitting right behind her, no one would notice the seat of her panties. Pretending to look the shirt over, Cammy looked around her. A man was coming down the aisle to her right. Her hand quickly knocked a shirt off the table on her left. Bending to retrieve it, the seven-year-old paused to refold in on the floor. The man passed right beside her.

He had to see my undies, she screamed in her head. Oh, geez. I showed him my underpants.

Cammy left the store and strolled around the mall. Over the next hour the young girl bent and sat everywhere she could think of. Every time she exposed her white undies, and sometimes she even saw guys look her way when she did it. That really made the butterflies go crazy.

She felt so good inside she even dared to lay back on a bench. She put her paten leather shoes on the bench seat and let her pleated skirt fall from her upraised thighs. Knowing every guy around must have been staring at her, Cammy let her knees part, keeping them open for a long time before sitting upright again.

On legs weakened by arousal, the child paced the mall floors in a mindless daze. All she could think about was now to be even naughtier. Everyone already saw her panties. What else could she possibly do? The answer, again, was obvious, and Cammy went to find the ladies room.

She closed herself into a stall and pulled her panties down her legs and off over her shoes. Because she didn't have anything to carry them in, Cammy put the garment in the trash bin. They were soiled anyway. The crotch was all damp with some smelly stuff that must have come from her privates.

As the bathroom door closed behind her the youngster wished she had wiped herself before leaving. Cammy hadn't gone pee, but there certainly was wetness in her pee-hole. It felt kind of strange, but the way it made the two sides of her slit glide together when she walked was okay. Pretty soon the front of her bald little bug seemed to vibrate.

Cammy walked and sat, went into stores and went outside. The wind played with her skirt, thrilling the naughty young brunette. It blew so strongly that the hem flew up too high, forcing Cammy back inside the mall.

No more bending, she cautioned herself each time she caught herself beginning to. She crouched instead, and when no one could possibly see, the girl opened her knees. One time she even dared to run fingertips up the inside of her exposed thigh. That really felt good.

Cammy decided to try that some more when she got home. It suddenly dawned on her that she did not have any way to get home. The seven-year-old didn't even have money for a pay phone to call home. Neither her black skirt nor her pink sleeveless top had pockets to carry change in. Surely there must be a telephone she could use for free.

Somebody must know where to find one.

There was. A man at the information desk let her use his. Her mom must have gone out because no one answered. She left a message saying she got separated from Stacy and her mom, and needed a ride home. Then the young brunette thanked the man with a toothy smile.

It occurred to Cammy to reward the helpful man with a peek under her skirt, and whished she still had undies on. If she showed him she didn't have any, he might arrest her or something, wouldn't he? She paced back and forth in front of his counter thinking hard of a way to let him see. Her fingertips even pinched at her hemline. She clamped her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She didn't dare just lift her skirt up, could she?

Before she even knew it she had done it. It didn't come up a lot, just a few inches at her hip. It was enough to expose the bare side of her fanny cheek, though. It was enough to make the little girl dizzy again: enough to send a drop of goo from her pee-hole running down between her legs.

Her tummy felt as if it were full of helium as she walked blindly away. The leakage made it half way down her thigh by the time the little brunette found a store window to look at herself in. She didn't dare look down to see whether the goo was visible. What if someone watched her and looked there too? The glass didn't allow Cammy to see the line of wetness, now nearing her knee. She could see her skirt, though, and she stood there staring at it in the reflection.

Her hands bounced nervously at her sides, thumbs poking her leg below the skirt's hem. The sounds all around her echoed in her head as her fingers began catching the garment's bottom edge before swinging back outward. Cammy felt her heart thumping in her chest. Her hands flicked the hemline higher and higher -- until she pressed her palms against the front of the skirt to make them stop. Then, taking a cursory glance around her, she pulled her hands up.

The material came with them. Her mons vibrated strongly now, and she had to look at herself there. Cammy held the material up on her belly until her eyes could focus on her image on the glass. Only when she could see her privates reflected in the window did she drop her skirt. Oh, geez. What am I doing? she thought. She knew, of course, and knew that it was wrong. The throbbing between her thighs would not let her stop. Another drop of seepage fell onto the inside of her other knee, and the preteen began walking again.

She walked until she couldn't any more. The slipperiness in her crotch spread all through her girl-slit. The goo ran down her legs in three places. The back of Cammy's skirt slapped her bare fanny every step she took. She hoped some boy was looking at her rear not knowing how exposed she really was. Holding her hands together, fingers interlaced, the aroused brunette let them bounce on the front of her skirt, right beneath where her naked bug vibrated. Then she just pressed her folded hands against herself. In twenty steps or less her legs became too weak to hold her up.

Somehow Cammy made it to a bench that ringed a flower garden. Her sloppy crotch made the seat slippery under her, and it felt perfectly wonderful to squirm around on it a little.

The seven-year-old didn't know if the man had been seated across from her when she sat down. When she did notice him he was looking at her. He didn't smile at her, but he didn't look mad either. He wasn't too old, maybe about her dad's age, she guessed. The child stopped moving around so much. His steady gaze made her uncomfortable.

She expected his presence would put an end to her butterflies, bit it didn't. Probably because Cammy wondered why he was sitting right there and looking at her so much. Did he just think she was pretty? Did he notice her earlier and follow to these benches? Had he seen her undies? Or worse, had the man seen her bare hip or watch her look at herself in the window?

Oh, my god, Cammy exclaimed in her brain, Did he see my privates in the glass too? Can he see the drips on my legs right now? Looking down, the young brunette saw the glint of a moist trail along her inner thigh. Reflexively the seven-year-old wiped it away, regretting the move immediately. If the guy hadn't seen it before, now he knows there's something there.

When she lifted her eyes he lifted his to meet them. The girl's face reddened and goose bumps rose on her arms. Her nipples tightened up like she was cold, but she wasn't. She was sweating under her arms and in her scalp. He knows, she decided. He saw me before and is waiting to see more.

"Oh, geez, the child said to herself, looking up at the lights and blinking away tears. The butterflies were fluttering all through her body now; chest, arms, legs. And down there. Especially down there. Cammy squirmed a little, thighs tight together, and felt that thrill again. Geez, I wish I could touch myself down there.

Maybe she could touch her legs, though. So what if there was a man right there? A girl could touch her own legs if she wanted, couldn't she? Nobody can tell how good it felt to her. So what if they did? If this guy could, maybe he would like to see it.

Nervously, Cammy parted her knees, watching the hem of her skirt sink between her thighs to cover her private place. The youngster looked casually around. No one paid either of them a bit of attention. Go on, she chided herself, do something!

The only reason the seven-year-old had to touch herself inside her legs was to wipe away the goo trails. The guy had already seen her do it once, so it would be okay to do it some more. Pretending to forget the man was looking at her, Cammy looked for another line of goo. She ran her fingertips slowly along one of them while wondering if the thrill of being naughty made that stuff come out of her pee-hole. There was so much of it under her right then that her legs made squeaking noises at every move she made.

The trail of goo led her fingers right up under her skirt. Contact with her swollen mons made the little girl convulse involuntarily, and she brought her hand out. After wiping her fingers on the skirt material, Cammy used her other hand to clean up her other leg. Head throbbing and face burning, she drew the hand toward her crotch again. It felt so good when she touched it on the other side, the little brunette knew she would do it again this time. She just wished she could keep doing it.

Expecting the wonderful contact, Cammy was better prepared to control her body's reaction. One hand wanted to repeat the swipe, but the other warned it not to. The first hand began moving up her inner thigh one more time, so the other hand clamped the skirt down over her privates. The second hand felt nice there, and Cammy pressed harder. Tremors rising from her loins made the preteen jam her eyes shut and draw a quick breath.

Oh, my god, shed thought -- or had she whispered it? Recovering, Cammy smoothed out her skirt and sat back. The man continued watching her. She bit her lower lip trying to stop a broad grin. Her eyes rolled as if to say "wow." The man smiled a little, crossed his arms and leaned back. Cammy took another look around. A teenage boy glanced her way, but kept walking.

When he was out of sight the young brunette slouched on the bench, her fanny making a loud squeak. Sitting still as long as she could, the seven-year-old had to lift her hands from the bench beside her and toy with her skirt. Her heart pounded under her painfully hard left nipple, knowing what she was about to do.

Cammy really had to touch herself between the legs some more. Maybe she could go to the ladies room again and do it. Before she left, however, the horny preteen would let the man have a peek at her privates. It would be the naughtiest thing she ever did, and promised herself never to do it again. But at that very moment he was right there wanting to see it, and she was in the mood to show it to him.

It wasn't easy though. Her hands made only weak attempts to flip her skirt, fingers dropping the material too soon. Cammy eased her feet farther apart and tried again. It happened quickly. She flipped the skirt up and it flipped right back down again. The guy on the other bench raised his eyebrows, uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Outwardly Cammy bit her lip again. Inwardly she was smiling a mile wide. She had done it. Too fast, probably. The man didn't have time to see much, but she had done it!

The guy looked very interested now, but waited patiently and wordlessly for the girl's next move. It didn't seem fair to leave him thinking there was more to come. He deserved a good look, and Camille couldn't let him down.

Now the man glanced around the small rest area. He leaned back, arms folded again, looking elsewhere. The brunette followed his gaze to a family of shoppers approaching. Closing her legs a bit, the girl waited primly -- almost. The family passed, but a woman stopped to adjust her bags. When she was gone the man leaned forward and nodded to the seven-year-old.

With the man watching out behind her, all Cammy had to do was watch for people coming from behind him. It was difficult with watery eyes, and after a while the girl gave it up. This would only take a minute or so anyway. Hands flat on her lap, Cammy pulled the skirt toward her belly. When it no longer covered her lap she opened her legs wider.

And wider. Suddenly the act of boldly exposing her naked privates to a total stranger for real was too intense for her. Her face scrunched up and her body contorted. One foot rose from the floor, knee bent and ready to close to the other, caught in the battle between propriety and wantonness. The girl gave up the fight, legs crossing to hide herself as her body twisted awkwardly away from the man's eyes.

She pulled the black skirt down to cover what little of her naked hip it could, and possibly hide the sheet of goo washing down her butt and thigh from her leaking slit. After a breath the youngster recovered. Cammy sat facing the man again, looking around. When no one else was looking, she let her knees fall apart. Hands between them, appearing to fumble with the skirt, the pretty brunette tickled her genitals through the material. Yes, oh god yes. This is what I need to do. Cammy knew she shouldn't do it right there, but neither she couldn't stop.

The man before her understood just what she was doing. Cammy abandoned the pretence, and moved her skirt over her drooling crotch purposefully. It felt sooo good, but it would be much better with just her fingers, she knew. The butterfly-chaos inside her helped the preteen decide. One last glance around, and Cammy pulled the now sodden cloth away.

Bottom lip between her teeth, the young girl ran the fingers of one hand over her slick crotch. It felt so good she had to close her eyes for a second. The man had a perfect view of what she was doing. She held her hand away to give the guy a good long look. When another drop of girl-goo ran from her vulva Cammy caught it and spread it around. The seven-year-old continued to pull at the folds of greasy flesh even when the firm contact made her body jump and clutch. Never wanting to stop -- ever -- the little cutie had a hard time crossing her legs when the man crossed his arms and leaned back again.

Cammy tried to calm herself. She brushed her skirt down, but thought she must look very guilty of something to the people passing buy. Her hands trembled on her bare knees. I should stop now, she told herself, but the butterflies kept flying. She had to rub herself some more -- a lot more -- and wanted the nice man to see it. So the girl waited, casting furtive glances out the sides of her eyes to be sure to see when the people close by got up to leave.

The man's voice surprised her.

"Are you waiting for a ride?" he said out loud.

Cammy was stunned. Looking up confirmed that he was talking, and he addressed her. Suddenly full of fear, all the little brunette could do was nod her head.

"Do you suppose your mother would allow me to give you a ride?"

The girl grimaced. It was a perfect solution and the totally wrong thing to do. There was too much for the preteen to consider in just a second, and her head was swimming. Shrugging her shoulders give some sort of response and buy her time to think of something that might work out.

"I,..." the preteen began. She fingered a lock of fine brown hair into place behind an ear, leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. Staring at her fingers as they entwined and twisted nervously, she tried again. "I'd have to call my mom."

The girl's mother could be on her way to pick her up, or not even be home yet. Cammy would have to find out which.

"Do you need money for the pay phone?" the guy asked in a deep, soft, friendly voice. The girl lifted her hands, palms up, and looked at him.

"I don't have any," she said.

"Come on," the man said, rising. The youngster could see the point in his pants that had to be his erection, and she almost fainted. "Let's go give her a call."

Cammy hesitated. Her mom would never consent to her taking a ride with a strange man, even if he did talk to her. She would have to make something up if her mother answered, Cammy thought. And if she didn't answer, the child would have to say "no." Standing as if she were undecided, the preteen went with him to the pay telephones.

The man put quarters in the slot and told Cammy to dial her number. Again only the answering machine picked up on the call. Watching the guy with side-long glanced, the girl left her message: I found Stacy and her mom, so I don't need a ride. We're gonna do some things and then come home. I can walk from Stacy's, okay?

"Love-ya, Mom. Bye," she added as a quick after thought.

Hanging up the receiver, Cammy remembered she meant to tell the man she couldn't if no one answered. She did recall her mother saying she had things to do. The woman was led to understand her daughter would be gone all day. The anxious seven-year-old could only hope and pray her mother wasn't already at the mall looking for her.

"Well?" the man asked the girl when she hopped down from the stool, her skirt flaring to display a quick flash of skin.

"It's okay," Cammy told him. "Can we go now?"

The man smiled and led her outdoors. At first Cammy had to run to keep up. Realizing he was walking too fast, the guy slowed. The farther from the mall building they got, the better the girl felt about going with him. She swung her arms playfully. The tingle between her legs made her happy. Being outside made her feel free.

The wind tossed her hair and skirt. Cammy let out a giggle when it billowed right up, momentarily showing everything below her waist. Her mom's car was nowhere to be seen, so the brunette grabbed the man's hand with both of hers. Showing her white teeth in a wide smile, the seven-year-old bumped up against the man as they walked.

He went to a big pick-up truck and unlocked the driver side door. Opening it, he lifted Cammy right up onto the seat, slapping her bottom gently to get her to move over. The truck had a big, wide seat that rose above the cars around them. The guy started the engine.

"So, you're in a hurry to get home?" he asked. Cammy shook her head, then had to pull hair out of her face. "Good. See those empty parking spaces over there?"

The little brunette had to sit up on her knees to follow his pointing hand. There were no cars parked at the rear of the lot. "Uh-huh."