David Hawthorne

Little Rhonda's Initiation

I remember the first time I saw her and I knew immediately she would be mine, my lover. She was one of a bunch of kids that hung out at my place. I had the only pool for miles and I was only too willing to share it with the neighborhood five to fifteen year olds. Of course I had a reason for being so nice. I had more money than any two other people in town-hell I owned the town; well, a large part of it, and I looked on the kids both as mine to watch over and nurture and as my playmates, because they did not have ulterior motives to befriend me, they didn't want to borrow money or get me to invest in their businesses or ideas.

I was forty-four years old and you can say I was a big little boy inside. That's what two ex-wives and half a dozen ex-girlfriends often said: that I was immature and a child inside a wealthy man's body.

Every parent in town knew their kid at my place was safe and that I was a good man. Goes to show what a little care and some money spread around can do. At any given time I was fucking at least four or five of these kids-the little girls, mind you, I didn't have a thing for boys; that was not my thing, and each little girl thought that they were the Special One and the Only One that received my cock into their small pussies and behinds. Took a bit of doing but I had long since mastered the trick of it.

When they got older, when they started to grow big breasts and thick pubic hair, I gently pushed them out the door and into the arms of a boy their own age, but often they were so used to a grown man that they would find older lovers, men in their thirties or forties, and there were always plenty of those who could not resist the flirtations of a sexy teen girl. That's not to say that we never shared a bed again but it was rare and usually followed a breakup. I could resist teen girls, but I could not resist seducing a preteen angel.

Maybe you think I am a monster as you read this.

I am not a monster.

I truly loved all my girls.

I never forced myself on a girl but instead wooed her and let her make the first move and they always did. I used to bet with myself as to when and how a girl would make her play and I was rarely wrong. A lot of these girls needed a strong male figure in their lives because they either did not have fathers or their fathers were losers; and when one showed up and paid attention to them they always got these ideas that they had to please such a man any way he wanted or they might lose him..

Somehow I never got caught although I knew that some of the parents-the drunks and the ones who felt their little darlings were a burden-guessed what I was up to but as long as nobody raised a stink they were willing to let well enough alone. I don't think I ever hurt one of my loves but if I did I never heard about any problems and I certainly never meant to. Most all of them left my bed as willing and playful lovers who I'm sure pleased their boyfriends and husbands to no end, because I taught them all to do every sexual act in the book; they were willing to do some of the most kinky and vile things even prostitutes won't do for money, and they did these things because they knew it made me happy and if I was happy, they were happy.. It's a lot of work to properly break in and train a virgin but I always felt the reward was worth it. There are men out there who owe me, because they didn't have to train their girlfriends or wives how to suck cock and lick balls, that swallowing sperm was sexy, that drinking urine was sensual, that it was possible to have an orgasm during anal sex.

This is all about Rhonda, little Rhonda's love story with me. But where can I properly begin?

The pool…

It always begins at the pool.