This is a print version of story Ashley Wants It (Mf, cons) by Spectreofhell from

Ashley Wants It (Mf, cons)

Ashley Wants It

By SpectreOfHell

“You don’t mind?” Helen asked again. She pulled her robe tighter around her body and sneezed.

“I don’t mind, I promise,” Jeff told his wife. “You’re sick. Go to bed. I’ll get Ashley to help me make you some soup.”

“I feel bad leaving you to babysit,” she said, sniffling. “I told her mother I’d watch her.”

“You should have told her you had a cold,” he chided. “But it’s okay. Ashley and I get along just fine. I’ll watch after her. Now get in bed.”

“You’re the greatest,” his wife told him, smiling warmly. He guided her to their bed and helped her take off her robe. She looked so sexy, even sick, in her short nightgown. He loved his wife dearly, though in the last few months she seemed to have been sick more than she was healthy. They hadn’t been able to make love in over a month, which was probably why he found her so sexy even with her sniffling and sneezing. He covered her up and went back downstairs.

“Is she sl**ping?” Ashley asked from her place on the living room floor in front of the television. Jeff stopped in the doorway to talk to her, and he couldn’t help noticing how cute she was. He knew it was just his sexual frustration, that he normally would never have looked at a little girl like that, but all the same Ashley was adorable and quite sexy for a nine year old girl.

“She’ll be alseep soon,” he told her. “Want to help me make her some soup?”

“Sure!” the girl said, hopping up. Her skirt flared showing off more of her slender, pale legs and giving him a brief glimpse of her simple blue panties. He felt his cock stir in his pants and was ashamed of himself. She was cute, but she was a c***d. Nine years old. So what if she had shapely legs and such a cute face, and if she had premature breasts that showed as little plumbs beneath her tshirt, or that her lace socks were too grown up for a girl her age? He was a 29 year old man, and he had no right thinking of her in such a way.

Besides, he’d known the girl for over a year now, and they were friends. He was no pervert, and she was just an innocent girl, so he had to control his thoughts. He wanted to fuck his wife, he reminded himself, and no one else. In the kitchen, Ashley pulled a chair over to stand on next to him as he supervised her. She opened the can of chicken noodle soup, put it in the pot, added water, and turned the heat on. She beamed proudly at him when he praised her.

She was standing next to him, her hip touching his side. Their faces were level, and as he looked into her deep brown eyes he felt a different sort of stirring than the one in his crotch. A tug at his heart, and he wanted to hug her. He wanted to kiss her…

He shook his head, ashamed again. “What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“Nothing,” he lied. She made a pout with her lips and caressed his face. He smiled at her. “I’m sorry Helen got sick,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she told him.

“I know you like spending time with her, is all,” he added.

The little girl shrugged. “I like spending time with you, too,” she said.

“You do?” he asked, a little surprised.

“Sure,” she beamed happily. “Can we play a game after we make the soup?”

“Of course,” he said, happy that she was happy.

“Any game I want?”

“Any game you want,” he agreed, not knowing what he was getting himself into.

They finished the soup, transferred it to a bowl, and she carried it up the stairs with him following. She swished her butt, drawing his eyes, and he felt ashamed for doing so. She was a c***d, just a little girl, but damn she had a nice ass. Helen was already asl**p when they got upstairs. They put the soup on the bedside table and left quietly. In the hall, Ashley slipped her hand into his and tugged him toward the stairs. It was the first time she’d ever held his hand, though she’d sat on his lap a few times before. It felt…intimate.

Downstairs, she shut off the TV and sat on her knees on the floor. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s play a game.”

He sat on the sofa facing her. “What kind of game?” he asked. “We’ve got checkers, or I could teach you backgammon.”

“No, not that kind of game,” she said, giggling.

“Then what?”

“Close your eyes,” she said.


“It’s a guessing game.”

He smiled but he was confused. “What kind of guessing game?”

“You close your eyes, then I let you smell something,” she said. “If you can guess what it is, then you can have it.”

He made a face. “You’re not going to make me smell your feet are you?” he asked.

She laughed. Her laugh was a tinkle, like magic. “No,” she said, lighlty punching his knee. “Not my feet! Come on, let’s play.”

“Okay,” he said, resignedly. He leaned back in the sofa and closed his eyes. He heard her getting up.

“No peeking,” she warned.

“I won’t,” he agreed. He heard the rustle of cloth, then she stepped closer so that her legs pressed against his. He felt her fingers brush his chin, then they were beneath his nose.

“Sniff,” she ordered in a quiet voice.

He did. And instantly, every nerve in his body was on fire. He knew that smell. But no, that couldn’t be it. He was smelling something that only smelled similar. That had to be it. It coldn’t really be the smell of…

Of pussy.

“What does it smell like?” she asked in a low, sultry voice. “Do you like it?”

He opened his eyes slowly and his gaze locked with hers. “Ashley,” he said, but didn’t know where to go from there.

“If you like it,” she said, “you can have it.”

He instinctively glanced toward the stairs. “Ashley,” he said again.

“She won’t wake up for awhile,” the little girl said, reading the thoughts he didn’t want to be having. “And I won’t tell. I promise.”

His burning nerves began to melt. “No,” he said weakly. She wasn’t really offering that. Was she? She was too young! She couldn’t understand! “Ashley, that’s…”

“I love you,” she whispered. Everything in him froze. She looked so vulnerable, so afraid, but not of what he might do to her. No, she wanted that, it was clear to him then. Slowly, she crawled onto his lap, but instead of sitting on him as she usually did, she straddled him. She inched forward until her tiny breasts were against his chest. Her adorable face was looking up at him as she settled back, lowering her crotch onto his bulge. And yes, he was bulging. He wasn’t aware that he’d gotten so hard until she sat on it. When she felt it press against her, she smiled broadly.

“You can put it in me if you want,” she said softly.

“Jesus,” he hissed. He grasped her hips intending to push her off of him but found he couldn’t do it. She put her hands on his shoulders and slowly ground herself against him. Her jaw slackened and she made a cooing sound. Her mouth formed a silent “O.” He felt the fire inside him flash into his crotch, and unable to resist he pulled her down by her hips and lifted himself to meet her. They both moaned softly.

“I love you,” she said again, hissing. “I want to do it with you. Please?”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “Ashley, we can’t! You’re only nine year’s old, for god’s sake. It’s a crime!”

“Not if I don’t tell,” she said. “And I swear I’d never, ever tell on you, Jeff. I love you. Please?”

“Where did you even get the idea?” he sputtered even as he continued to grind against her. He knew he was doomed, a drowning man grasping at flotsam to save his life.

“I look at my Daddy’s dirty books,” she said. “Kelly Richards, my best friend, do you know her? She taught me how to play with myself, and I really like it. We talked about doing it with some boys, but I want you to be my first. I really, really want to, Jeff. Please?”

“Oh, god,” he groaned. He leaned forward, slumping really, but she met him by leaning into him and pressing her thin lips to his. He kissed her reflexively, and she responded with more knowledge of the act than she should have had. When her mouth opened and her little tongue touched his lips, he let her in. Just like that, he was making out with a c***d. And he loved it.

“Where,” he gasped, “where did you learn to kiss like that?”

“Kelly taught me,” she said. “She learned from her Daddy. But I don’t want to kiss my daddy, he’s gross.”

Jeff’s mind was reeling. Just moments ago, he was tucking his wife into bed and lusting after her body. Now he was dry humping a nine year old girl while she confessed of her friend’s i****t. “Kelly,” he gasped. “Did she…and her father…?”

“Yeah,” Ashley giggled. “He put it in her a few times, but she said he’s not good at it. She never has the orgasm with him. This feels really good, Jeff.” She ground on him harder, panting.

“Oh god,” he groaned again. She made a yelping sound and pressed down harder.

“I think,” she gasped, “I think…oh, oh, OH…Jeff!” She went stiff. She was cumming. He knew it, felt it, had caused it, and he was lost. He had to do this, had to have her, had to follow through on this desire he’d never known hid within him. Turning, he lay her down on the sofa and knelt between her widespread legs.

“Okay,” he told her, kissing her.

“Really?” she gasped, still high from her orgasm. “Are we really going to do it?”

“Yes!” he groaned. He put his hand over her tiny, prepubescent breast and massaged it. Her nipples were already hard. The nubbin was firm and spongey at the same time. Groaning more, he slid his hand quickly down between her legs. Her panties were soaked with her juices. He’d had no idea a girl her age could become sexually aroused. The aroma of her pussy wafted up to him, stronger than the scent had been on her fingers. He had a mental image of her thrusting two fingers into herself before putting them under his nose.

With almost frantic movements, Jeff pulled up the hem of her skirt to expose her panties. He moved down so he could nestle between her slender young legs, feeling how smooth they were and covered with downy, nearly invisible hair. She was far too young to have to shave her legs. He licked her inner thigh, consumed by overpowering lust, and she moaned loudly as he did so, her hands flying to his head. He nuzzled her crotch, inhaling her intoxicating, innocent aroma. Opening his mouth, he covered the gusset of her panties and clamped down lightly. His tongue lapped at the wet cloth, tasting her dimly.

Moaning, he hooked a finger into the leg opening of her panties and pulled it aside. It was the first time he’d ever seen a pussy so young. She was hairless, but her inner lips were splayed outward revealing her arousal. The hood of her clit was retracted and the little nubbin was swollen. He licked her from bottom to top, lapping at the juices glistening on her pink flesh. She cried out even louder and arched her back, planting her sock feet on the cushions to thrust herself up into his mouth. Jeff buried his tongue between her lips and drank her in.

It was the most unique flavor he’d ever experienced. She was tangy, sweet, metallic, and bitter all at once. Using his fingers, he spread her open so he could see into her. Her hole gaped open in invitation. He thrust his tongue into her, making her cry out again. Her little hands pulled at his hair almost painfully as she shook beneath his onslaught. Moving his tongue to her clit, he eased a single finger into her. His tongue had met no resistance, and neither did his finger. He soon had it buried in her to the last knuckle.

That might have been the only thing that stopped him. If she’d had her hymen, he couldn’t have fucked her, wouldn’t have dreamed of trying. He never, never would cause her any pain. But the barrier was gone. He might stretch her, but he wouldn’t hurt her. Shaking, he rose from between her legs and frantically loosened his belt and pants. Ashley lay back on the cushions gazing up at him in wonder, lost in the haze of her own youthful passion. Her eyes locked onto his cock when it appeared, and her eyes widened in wonder.

“Have you ever seen one for real before?” he asked as he rose off the sofa.

Ashely shook her head in negation, unable to form words. He shoved his pants down along with his underwear and kicked them off. Then he stepped closer, his erect cock bobbing in the air over her little body. “Touch it,” he urged.

So quickly, he thought. So quickly had he turned from a normal person into a c***d m*****er. But he couldn’t stop. He watched her lift her hand and wrap it around his tool. She smiled broadly, immensely pleased to have him in her hand. Her eyes met his. He knew it was time. Pulling away from her, he tugged her panties down. She lifted herself to let him remove the garment, and he tossed it onto the pile of his own discarded clothes. He knelt on the sofa again, grasping her ankles in both hands. She folded her hands over her midsection and watched her own knees as they were bent back toward her immature chest, then stared at his cock as he maneuvered into position.

There was still time to back out, he told himself. But he knew he was lying. His cock touched her little pussy. They both shivered. He pushed his hips forward, raking the head of his tool through her sopping wet pussy lips and over her engorged clit. The eyes in her head rolled back and she moaned. Her hand flew to his belly, pushing lightly, but not trying to dissuade him. He moved his hips again and managed to get the head of his cock lodged into her opening without touching himself. Like it was meant to be. Gently, he began to push.

She moaned and strained to bend herself so that she could see what was happening to her. The head of his cock split her lips, mushrooming the flesh. There was resistance, but only because of the fatness of his adult cock compared to the narrowness of her virginal opening. “Are you sure?” he asked her.

She nodded vigorously. “Say it,” he urged, trembling as much as she was.

“I want it,” she hissed in a hot whisper.

“Say what you want,” he begged.

“I want to do it,” she said.

“Tell me to fuck you,” he groaned.

“Oooohh,” she said, blushing a bit. She could do it, but saying it was the embarassment. All the same, she said, “I want you to fuck me, Jeff.”

Moaning, he pushed harder. His cock began to enter her. It stretched her, it clamped on his cock like a vise, but it was sweet and wonderful. The most incredible thing he’d ever experienced. He worked his cock back and forth, fucking her in the most shallow of strokes, working himself deeper and deeper into her body. They both began to sweat as the smell of sex filled the room along with their grunts and moans.

“It’s in me,” she cooed when he was halfway filling her. “It’s really in me!”

“Yes,” he agreed, pushing harder into her. “I’m inside you, Ashley. My cock is inside your pussy.”

“My pussy,” she moaned, liking the word. “Your cock is in my pussy.”

“I’m fucking you,” he groaned.

“You’re fucking me,” she agreed. “Oh, oh, oh, fuck me Jeff!”

Moaning, he pushed harder, and suddenly he felt flesh against his balls. He was buried in her little body. He’d honestly expected her to be unable to take all his length, even though he was only six inches long. But it was in her. He was fully inside her. With agonizing slowness, he withdrew and began to really, honestly fuck her.

The strokes were slow because she was so tight. If he pushed too hard, his cock threatened to fold. She was hot, wet, tight, and wonderful, and she loved every second of his cock inside her. On the tenth stroke, just as he thought he would blow his nut, she came. Her pussy clamped down on him so tightly he couldn’t move. He rode it out, watching how adorably her face contorted, listening to the sweet sounds of her little girl voice panting in orgasm. She went limp, panting. He eased out and thrust into her again, a bit more f***efully. She was still incredibly tight, but her post-orgasmic bliss left her loose enough for a quicker stroke.

“I’m going to cum,” he told her. “I’m going to cum inside you, Ashley.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she chanted, her body quivering.

“Say it, Ashley,” he urged her. “Tell me to cum inside you.”

“Cum inside me,” she moaned, clutching at him. “Cum inside my pussy, Jeff.”

Crying out, he began to explode. It wasn’t a sudden orgasm, not like he had with his wife, where it swept over him and flowed out of him in violent spurts. It built up in waves, cascading and crashing in increasingly intensity until his cock swelled and his juices began to launch out of him into her body. He was cumming inside her, inside a c***d. The feeling of his cock throbbing its orgasm into her set her off again, to his amazement, and she came again, crying out shrilly. She dug her heels into his thighs and clawed at his chest, tossing her head from side to side.

The pleasure faded out of them slowly at the same time. He lay propped over her, panting, and she lay beneath him, still joined to his body, glowing in joy. “I love you,” she said, smiling brightly.

He couldn’t help himself. “I love you too, Ashley,” he told her, and he meant it. His heart ached for this c***d, and he knew he’d never be the same again.

Eventually he softened and slipped from inside her. His exit was followed by a flood of his juices, a copious amount he’d been saving up unintentionally for a month. He thought that once he was spent that sanity would return, that he could blame his actions on his horny condtion. But it wasn’t true. He wanted her again. He loved her, truly and deeply, and desired her as he never had another female in his life.

He got her cleaned up. He got her panties back on her. She was sl**py, so they cuddled on the sofa as she drifted into sl**p. He tucked her in and went up to check on Helen. She had slept through it all. When could he do it again? When would he have the chance to fuck Ashley again? Would the c***d want to repeat it? Would she tell? He didn’t know. All he knew was that his life would never be complete without her in his life.

If it was meant to be, it would happen. He had to be satisfied with that. Closing the door behind his sl**ping wife, he went to take a shower and wash off the evidence of his passion and crime.

Story URL: