"Hold it!"
"I'm trying!"
Stephanie struck the pose with her legs spread wide. The form-fitting pink uniform she wore matched her hair, now inverted from the splits handstand. If she truly wanted to be a cheerleader, she needed to be able to pull off moves like this, but her muscles were burning. Her personal coach stood behind her, dressed in blue, grinning widely over her gymnastic distress. These were the moments of growth, he always insisted. Mind and body both grew through the breakdown—especially a body as young as hers.
Eight years old, and active, full of energy, almost too much for this town. She didn't fit in, but then, neither did he. Until Stephanie had showed up—the newest resident of the place, come to live with her uncle Milford—he had spent most of his time aboard his ship, eating "sports candy" as he termed fruits and vegetables. Now he had this hard candy in front of him, still holding a pose that most would consider suggestive, even downright provocative or inappropriate. The light sweat she'd worked up already carried the most enticing traces of little girl pheromones, and made her leotard cling all the more tightly, some dampness making for a dark translucence that exhibited her taut young butt.
Her muscle tone looked so nice for a child, he thought, but her flexibility needed work! The rest of it, unfit for broadcast, the way his own body responded to the sight of her—Sport routinely tamped right down. He needed to stay professional, upright, and all that. What would Miss Busybody think if word got out that a preteen girl made his dick hard?
No, sport, sport and more sport, that's all he cared about! Activity, athleticism, healthy diets—not young pussy, not sweet Stephanie's perfect Icelandic ass, right in front of him. He'd taken her on board his ship at her request, that's all. This was all for her benefit.
"Can you go a little longer? Hold it, come on!" He placed his hands on her ankles for gentle pressure, restricting her impulse to bring her legs back together, a small assist.
"Ugh, I don't know!" Stephanie panted. "My heart's going crazy!"
"That's good. It's pumping oxygen to your muscles. Getting stronger. That beat, it's saying 'thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!'"
"Okay, heart, well. You're welcome!"
She collapsed in front of him, giggling. Stephanie had sass to go along with the ass—altogether too peachy for an eight-year-old. She had arrived in town fairly toned, but now under his tutelage she had gained this springy, responsive, perfectly sculpted allure. At first, Sport hadn't seen the threat implied, the suppleness of it advancing in slow-motion, becoming this thing of dangerous beauty. All the more so when paired with the view of her sleek, flat chest.
His mouth went dry, but he flooded it with his water bottle. Then he tried to think about anything else, while holding her gaze.
"Alright, Stephanie. You did well. I bet you can go even longer next time!"
"Please don't talk about next time yet. I need to stretch after working out too, right? Kitten-n-n!" she said, in her habit of announcing her 'animal' poses. Stephanie reached out with her arms and arched her back dramatically, keeping her front low and her backside raised. Oscillating through the pose made her look dynamically feminine, receptive. By now the sweat in her uniform made the cling unavoidable: he could see the little heart-shape of her labia outlined, right there in the middle of her thigh-gap. She tilted her head back enough to look at him, then rolled her eyes until they showed white.
"You're so predictable," she said upon regaining her feet. The expression on her face, a vaguely playful smile, made the accusation mysterious.
"What do you mean? I just keep it simple! Regular exercise and a healthy—"
"—Diet are essential for a growing body," Stephanie completed the saying, mimicking him in her high pitch. Even her voice came off pink.
"That's right!" He decided not to take the bait of her teasing. "Routine is good, you see. If I'm predictable, I'm doing my job right!"
"What is your job, anyway? Where did you even get this ship? Don't you ever want to teach me anything else?"
After feigning exhaustion for a moment or two, now she was back, bouncing on her feet—or one foot, rather. She raised her left leg and held it upright with one hand, a traditional cheer pose. Her pose started as a 'Y' then showed less and less of a slant, approaching the vertical, like she now decided to show off for him, make a point of her flexibility. The nature of the stretch made an even more obvious exhibition of her child sex through the pink material, a tender, petite mound, subtly split in the middle. Only then she lost her balance and fell out of the pose, laughing.
"Something else, like what?" He rolled on before she had a chance to answer. "If you want to be a cheerleader, this is how! I go hard on you now for your own good. You'll be sore tonight but you'll thank me in the morning."
"C'mon. I know what grown-ups do. Pixel showed me. I wanna try that!"
"Stephanie. What do you mean, what did Pixel show you? Do you mean—"
"Sex!" Her eyes flashed brightly as she came right out and said it. All her initial shyness had faded now, giving way to this place of lightly exerted, sweaty, spunky, girl-child excitement. Sport's conscience flexed itself, but then so did his cock, growing tell-tale stiff in his uniform. He'd never felt such powerful attraction to a girl her age before, and the revelation unsettled him.
"Get serious. You're only eight years old, you're not—I can't teach you that. You can't consent to that yet."
"What's that mean?"
The saccharine sounds of his Eurodance mix went on in the background of the gym, its airy twinkle and synthetic thump making light of the conversation. All of Stephanie's movements now took on more significance, like the way she had spread and arched and displayed herself in cute, flushed-red extremity. She had wanted to provoke him, wanted him to take that next step, like bait for the most delicious kind of trap. He hated to admit that her plan was working, and the chance of him sending her back home—with her curiosity unsatisfied—rapidly diminished.
"Consent means agreeing to it. Like, you can't vote, you can't drink, after all, until you reach a certain—"
"Wait, 'agree' to it? But I'm asking you! I don't wanna vote, or drink, that's dumb."
"Okay, well, you can try with boys your own age, then. Not with me. I won't deny, sex is very good cardio!"
"So! Don't you want to do it with me? And, why can I do it with boys but not you? They're all lazy! Plus I like you the best!"
She pouted in her typical way, tossing her pink bob, forming the image of petulant young beauty. Her earnestness in that slowly won him over. In fact, he reflected, he had no idea whether this kind of loveplay was even forbidden in the jurisdiction of the town—let alone the international waters, so to speak, of his ship in the sky. He regarded her again, saw that pout slowly transforming into a mischievous smile.
"You're sure...?"
"Yes!"
"And you won't tell your uncle?"
"Blah, no! You know he barely pays attention to me. I always wished you were, like, my new daddy."
After his mind raced, now it achieved a certain kind of (perverted) clarity. Her chemistry aligned with his, and their common ground expanded, this undeniable connection leading into dangerously hot territory. He looked her over again and wet his lips.
"Alright. Daughter. If it's really what you want, let me see you—"
"This first!"
She closed the gap and kissed him, mid-sentence. The unexpected brush of her soft lips against his, the insistent little tug of her hands on his shoulders then the linking of her arms around his neck, appeared to seal her success. He returned the kiss, with any last objections exploding in his mind, this rush of heat and blood and energy. She opened her mouth first and chased his tongue. The flavour it yielded was pure little girl saliva with just a hint of fruit juice, or maybe a cherry sucker. She pressed against him so completely, he barely noticed that she was already slipping off her pink uniform, then reaching to help him out of his clothes, too.
When she pulled away, breathlessly excited and very obviously gratified, he looked her over with new appreciation. Her baby fat hadn't completely disappeared, so the girl was both toned and supple, with a flat chest he could stare at directly, the most perfect double-bubble butt, and this clean, smooth, tight little pussy. Fantasies he'd long since buried, and all the lolita-express temptations through his life that he thought he'd forgotten about came rushing back. Where had this impulse come from, how long had she craved it, had she already begun masturbating? Most likely, if Pixel—her computer-savvy classmate—had been showing her what boys and girls and men and women and best of all men and girls did together. Now they were set to re-enact them, starring him as the athlete, and her—pretty, eight years old, and eager.
"Mm. I'm coaching you here, remember? This is my ship. Are you gonna follow my instructions?"
"Uh huh!"
"Full physical exam, then. Get on your back and spread your legs."
She complied, freely exposing her swollen mound, the delicate pink slit, glistening enticingly as if all the workout had been foreplay, and the entire time she'd been thinking about this.
"Good. Now, use your hands. Spread your little pussy so I can see it. Yeah, there."
He took that moment to disrobe completely, springing out a downright heavy hard-on that she positively gloried in witnessing. Her eyes fixed on it while his eyes tracked her precocious little cunny show. So much pink right there for him, on display, from the pronounced hood of her clit down to the tempting aperture of her grade-schooler vagina: thoroughly aroused child pussy just begging to be probed and played with.
"Like this?"
"That's right. Do you play with it? Show me."
Stephanie did just that, even licking her fingers before (and after) stroking the circuit of her labia, or swirling them on her jewel of a clit. She made faces, rolled her eyes. He saw her toes curling as she repeatedly hit the spot, only to then hear this vaguely pained sigh.
"I want you to play! Please, Daddy. Play with me?"
He crossed into heroic territory, in her eyes, once he moved his hands to caress her thighs, press on her mons, and manipulate her blush-pink folds. So soft, so palpably hot, right there for him, like her physicality had only been a path toward sexual activity. This was where all the healthy eating and exercise was meant to lead: perfect, precocious readiness, young and eager for the best kind of orgasms—adult-delivered. Stephanie watched him as he applied his fingers, her breath rate elevating. Unmistakable arousal came on, the longer and slower he teased. He gradually accelerated, until he'd found the ideal rhythm, a frequency that resonated with her little sex.
By now, his own transgression was winning him over, in that he'd grown stiff as a springboard. He was here now, not violating her trust but consummating it, delivering on all the promise of their unspoken sexual tension. A healthy and curious little girl, an active and virile man, was it any surprise that in shipbound privacy they'd tumble into making love?
"S'that feel good?"
"Mmnh! Uh huh!"
"Let's see you 'bridge.' Flex, keep your form tight. Bring it up to my face and I'll eat it."
"Okay!"
After toying with her raised kiddy pleasure-center like that, teasing it, blissfully shocking her system, now Sport watched as Stephanie planted her feet on either side of him, laid herself out and brought her hips up, a yoga pose which blatantly offered up her gleaming young cunny. Even the gently piquant scent of it, a spring blossom, drove him closer to an insanity of lust. Letting her hold the pose a moment, he then supported her taut little ass in his hands and dove in.
Stephanie moaned, already trembling slightly, goosebumps raised as the sweep of his tongue sent pleasant chills through her body. A sensation of ice arriving and then instantly melting into wet warmth, followed by periodic jolts of electricity through all that internal juice. It felt strange and new and exquisite, the sort of sensation that could only be guessed at until experienced. The reality of it—his mouth right onher pussy, his tongue running measured laps around her clit—brought her to some deeper awareness. Not to mention the simple fact, an epiphany in three words: this is fun!
The best kind of workout, really. She revolved her hips, mini repetitions of the move, falling then rising, only his hands kept her right in place to go on exploring with his tongue. She may have been a virgin, but she was already learning what she liked. The supple responsiveness of her underage cunny—grade-school and still creaming enticement—told him all he needed to know. She ached for instruction, for more than oral and his tentative, teasing fingerfuck. A tiny hymen, fit for destruction.
His cock went on twitching, flexing, crowned with pre-cum, as patient as she was not. At times he gripped it, stroking, then put both hands underneath her again, holding up his meal of beautiful, rare, enflamed child pussy. His pace matched perfectly to the swirl of her hips and the steady deepening of her respiration, breath coming out in encouraging moans.
"Unnh! Yeah, Daddy, yeah. There, mmn! I like that," she chimed, with fading coherence. Her legs were giving out, her toes curling tightly as her feet flexed and relaxed. The tremors kept building up until it became obvious that Stephanie was reaching a first peak. He dug in, at this point jamming his tongue over her pearl and methodically driving a finger between her lips, up against her hymen over and over, softening its resistance. Her eyebrows shot up and her back arched as she started to cum, convulsions that he knew just how to sustain. Past the climax, she collapsed, humming out wordless gratitude, or a song of surprise—like she hadn't known it could feel thatgood.
It didn't take long for her to regain her composure and crawl over, suddenly more intently affectionate than he'd ever seen her before. She looked up to him, giving an elf-girl smile, then her gaze fixed on his upright cock.
"Know what to do with that?"
"Yeah!"
"Go on, then. Show me."
On her hands and knees now, Stephanie reached for his dick, then slipped her mouth around it. Hot, humid, irresistible, a mutual need expressed through this first blowjob: she needed to taste it, and to prove what all she'd seen, wanted to mimic. His need, on the other hand, was to survey that glorious young butt, reach out, slap and tease it. His manual attention drove her on to further feats of juvenile dicksucking, carefully licking up from the base, then down across his balls. A rush of energy had him throbbing in her mouth when she returned to pulling, steady suction applied, an altogether cute willingness to acquire the taste. In time her lips were glossed with his precum and she kept going, returning by instinct and by choice, a different aphrodisiac effect taking hold through the act of giving pleasure, returning it, volleying it back and forth.
"You want it in you?" He'd noticed her continuing to play with herself, reaching down between her legs while she kept pulling and slurping and drooling.
"Mmhmm!" She rose up, smacking her lips. "Let's try!"
Shiny, hot pink, spread for him. He pulled her up, carrying her like a doll, then placed her on a massage table. She reached down to open herself up again, and he went on mercilessly teasing with the head of his cock, painting lines of precum up and down her folds. Impossibly tight, and yet—ready. Tropical oil went a long way toward making it happen sooner, the friction reduced, the repeated wedge, working his tip down into her little slit.
"Ready, Pink?"
"Yes! There, right there, please? I'm ready, please. Fuck me, Daddy?"
Hearing her say that again, looking at her spread like the essence of invitation, biting her lip in anticipation of the pain, he could no longer hold back. He applied more pressure, then broke through. Stephanie's face contorted for a moment as the sting of first penetration hit her, but then that pain slowly sizzled away. It couldn't outlast their determination to see this through. An eight-year-old girl wanted a lesson in sex, to race ahead of her lazy peers? Well, she wasn't the first. He watched her adjust, then kickstarted the cycle, forward and back, rocking her on the table. The tightness, the shallowness, the wild liquid heat of pumping her kiddy cunt again and again and again, it forced a realisation on the big man—her chosen father figure—of such intensity that he just had to groan and keep going even harder. He loved this. He had wasted time not seeking it out sooner. Then again, maybe he had waiting for this girl, this perfect child, neon-pink hair like a warning sign or a reminder: that pussy was viable, waiting, ready. A girl could be stridently sexual and he knew himself to be just the best one to carry her out of the curse of virginity and into the blessing of early promiscuity: fun-loving, hedonistic sex of the most advanced, most elevated kind.
To say nothing of the cardio!
Once he had a regular, pumping rhythm going, he turned her over, had her throw it back. The walls were practically sweating at this point, and so were they, adult and child, mentor and trainee, Rule 34, lovers because of course they were. He hit the back walls of her little pink thimble pussy, then stuck his oil-slick thumb in her ass.
Stephanie looked over her shoulder, and he almost expected her to reject that move. Instead, she smiled, pushed back with even more insistence. Despite the aircon, his ship was turning into a sauna. He wiped the sweat from his brow and kept going—Stephanie's body similarly glistened with perspiration.
"You like that?"
"Duh! Can't you tell?"
Sass.
"Relax, then. Push out. Let it in."
She complied, and before long he was opening both of her holes, fucking a little fun-sized pussy and fingering her ass, personally penetrating her twice over. Moments later he twined her pink hair in his fist and pulled her back for it, using that tension to guide and control, in a way that arched her back and made her gasp.
In that position, long past being deflowered, getting her wish, Stephanie started to cum again. A virtuous cycle of pounding, squirting, crying, sweetly scandalised sighs and moans, this pretty little thing losing control in the midst of his discipline.
"Can you keep going? Do you need a break?"
"Huh? No, I can keep going!"
"Get on it then, baby girl."
"Okay, Daddy!"
That next position, one of twelve they ultimately tried. Stephanie made for a prize-winning cowgirl, reaching down to line everything up, then setting her hands on his shoulders and revolving her hips to ride, to slide her velvety little pussy around his pole. She squeezed down on it powerfully, looking at her teacher—her Daddy—with a kind of triumphant expression. He drew her down for another wet kiss, then left her to set the pace, lying back and watching the child bounce and hump.
Monosyllables became simple moans again, expressing herself without speech. The fuckbunny energy came through in full force, this explosion of gratified little-girl enthusiasm for the act, the novelty of it, hot and sweaty and magical, the part missing from her children's-TV adventures. Before allowing that schoolgirl crush to make him cum, he pulled out and reset the position—several times over. She leaned back and kept riding, then he flipped her around and watched her take it in reverse. Soon followed a 'wheelbarrow' push, with her legs up and back around his waist, held in his hands, while he drove into her resilient cunny again and again.
At long last, maybe an hour deep, he got Stephanie on her back, more accurately her shoulders, folded up and fully accessible. He maneuvered into that perfectly receptive little pussy and occupied it completely, clear down to her cervix, and by then her desperation became clear. A finish, a way to cap off the lesson—and he'd been edging through her holes for so long that his entire body felt aglow, aching for the release too. He railed down into her, gritting his teeth and groaning as he let the pressure crest then break into an explosively satisfying release.
"Fuck, yeah!"
His dick throbbed inside her, practically overfilling her cunny with the first two blasts. Then he eased out and shot the rest down on her face and her flat chest, ribbons of cum that first made her flinch then giggle and rub it in. She savoured the stray cum from her lips, lying there gymnastically bent backward and yet attaining a strange kind of dignity, the pride of a newly christened kiddy slut. His to teach, his to train, a happy, grateful, quick-learning student.
"Mm! Daddy, wow, um. That's a lot!"
Stephanie knew then that she'd earned it, like A+, like good girl, the best teacher's pet.