Freddy Gets His First Feel

Written by Uncle Pan

"Freddy Skype's the name, feeling up little girls is my game."



Well, I guess after an opening line like that I need to go into a little more detail. Flesh out the facts, so to speak. First some particulars about me. I am presently thirty-four years old, mental age going on thirteen. What do I mean by a mental age going on thirteen? Well, there's no way I feel thirty-four, I don't even feel twenty-four. I guess I picked my mental age at thirteen because that's the age when my appreciation of little girls first began. Before thirteen I had never taken the slightest interest in the age group that sociologists label prepubescent females. Then came that magic moment when my next door neighbor's little four year old daughter, the beautiful Kathy May Cline, saw fit to adopt me as her favorite cuddling companion. That child did so love to cuddle, and the very moment she would walk into a room where I was she would be all over me, snuggling as if world peace and her eternal happiness depended on it. After sitting herself in my lap she would place my arms lovingly about her body, and after a time she even got so bold as to place my right hand between her chubby little thighs.

Now I want you to know that at the time I was so naive about little girls that I had no idea what was happening. I mean, I knew it felt really good when that warm bundle of little girl would snuggle herself on my lap, enfolding herself in my arms. She was so warm to the touch and she smelled absolutely heavenly. I even noted an extra warmth when she began placing my hand between her legs, and at first I would simply leave it where she placed it without moving it, but she was quick to begin guiding its motions with her own little hand. I guess I'm a quick learner, because in no time at all I was making the proper motions all on my own. Of course I had no idea at the time that what I was doing with her was sexual in nature. Call me naive but I wasn't the least bit interested in sex back then. There were too many other more important things in my thirteen year old life for me to be bothered by matters sexual. However I had to confess that at the time the lovely little Kathy May more than made up for my lackadaisical attitude. When she would first sit in my lap she would make careful note as to the placement and hardness of my lance, and place herself carefully lining up her bottom crack so that it rested firmly against me ensuing a maximum connection. And Kathy was quick to guide my hand between her legs with her own when she felt I was not using the proper rhythm or pressure.

One day my little darling suddenly slid off of my lap and sitting next to me began feeling the length and breadth of my fully engorged organ with her tiny little fingers. My mind soared, you can bet the feelings being generated by those curious, rapacious fingers inspired daydreams which soared my spirits onto new, unknown heights. But then all of a sudden, my dreams evaporated into a state of heightened anxiety as I noticed that for her unique gratification the child had unzipped my fly, and reaching inside had brought my pulsating salami, ball sac and all, out into the cool morning air. In my heart of hearts I knew I should put a stop to this forthwith. After all feeling one another up through clothing was one thing, but exploring one's bare genitalia was quite another thing entirely. But though I knew in my heart I should have spoken up firmly to bring this conduct to a screeching halt, my problem was I seemed to have lost my powers of speech. I was stricken mute, leaving my pulsing tumescence practically glowing and completely at the mercy of the tiny probing fingers of my curious next door neighbor's child.

I honestly don't know which one of us got the greater education on that fateful morning. I am reasonably sure judging from the expression on her face and the rapid rate of her breathing that she was handling a bare and aroused male appendage for the first time in her short life, and surely she must have gained a wealth of knowledge from the experience. As for myself, I was learning a mile a minute also, marveling at the ingenuity shown by this child who found herself quite suddenly gaining access to the object of her latent curiosity. Her fingers were exploring my every inch, paying especial heed to the helmet perched on top, and thoroughly crimping the area where the helmet joined the shaft. I did not think to notice if her eyes were open during this little investigation, or whether her fingers were doing braille-like duty in lieu of vision. But I have to admit I was terribly curious to see just where her inquisitiveness was going to lead her next. ......(cont)

.......Read the entire Freddy Gets His First Feel ....written by Uncle Pan.
Copyright © 2007-8 Uncle Pan. ALL Rights Reserved









This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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