by J. KRAMER
She followed him along a narrow path. Beside the path ran a narrow stream. At times she had to climb over rocks. Exotic foliage and flowers flanked the path on both sides. Occasionally she noticed a banana tree laden with lush, ripe bananas. Tall trees afforded shade. Suddenly he stopped. When she caught up to him, she gasped at the clear pool surrounded by large rocks and boulders. In between the rocks grew tall reeds, wild flowers and small shrubs. Red, pink and white lilies drifted lazily on the smooth water. “A natural spring,” she murmured.
“Exactly. And here is where I want to paint you. Go sit on that large boulder over there,” he said pointing at a huge rock formation.
Wild excitement coursed through Becky’s body at the thought of what would happen next. If Mom and Dad knew, she thought, but then felt saddened that her father and mother would never know anything about her anymore.
***
Lucien watched her climb while holding the basket in one hand. Her bare buttocks showed more than once as she had to scramble up on yet another rock causing his penis to throb with sudden longing to taste those forbidden fruits again. Hastily, to hide his ardor, he set up his easel.
He noticed her eyes on his cock and marveled at the changing expressions in their blue depths. They were like the ocean, forever changing color. One moment her irises were cerulean blue the next moment they darkened to inky limpid pools. He could imagine this girl a few years older, fully developed, her face fuller. She’d be beautiful. He needed to paint her; he wanted to paint her now before a boat passed by to take her away. Maybe he’d wait to build a fire…
“Is this where you want me?” Becky called out.
“Yes. I’ll be with you in a minute to position you. Just enjoy the scenery while I get ready.” He readied his palette and started a background wash on the white canvas. Every now and then he watched her as she sat on the boulder. The basket next to her, her arms around her knees, she looked the picture of innocence.
She leaned her face on her knees to look down at him. What was that sadness he now read in her eyes? That was not the expression he wanted. He wanted dancing lights, mischief and even sexiness to shine from them. It wasn’t beyond a girl her age to feel sexy, to flirt a little . . . but what was her age? She hadn’t told him and he hadn’t asked her.
He fought against the passion that caused his cock to become erect, to throb with desire. He felt awkward in the presence of the girl. Now that she was awake her face almost seemed too wise for such a youngster. Regret filled him that he’d violated her while she slept. It was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he stopped himself just in time. She wouldn’t know about it and he’d just look foolish.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Are you ready yet?” Becky called out to Lucien.
Without answering he started to climb up. When he reached her, he seemed withdrawn. She wondered if he was absorbed in the painting he was going to do of her. His fingers fumbled with the T-shirt. He pulled one sleeve down and exposed her bare shoulder. When he tugged it some more and her nipple poked just over the stretched collar, she felt the flesh between her legs start to throb. Glancing down at her nipple she saw it harden and the aureole around it pucker. His fingers felt like hot rods on her skin where he touched her.
She heard Lucien’s sharp intake of breath as if trying to contain himself. The moment was laden with sexuality, the kind she’d dreamed about, lusted for. He pulled up the hem of the T-shirt a little. “Let your leg dangle down over the side,” he said in a thick voice.
Becky hesitated for a moment. What he wanted would cause exposure of her clit. Why not? She thought. I finally have the chance to fool around for real instead of imagining it. She dangled the leg over the side of the boulder.
Lucien arranged her leg. He pulled it more to the side and glanced up. “Perfect. Now draw the other leg up to your chin.” He looked at her position thoughtfully for a moment. “No. That’s not quite right. Your left leg still isn’t positioned correctly, bend it a little and move it over a bit more. Yes, that’s it. Now hold that position.”
Becky felt the rays of the sun play with her clit; their warmth toying with the exposed inner labia and her vagina. It was as if the sun’s rays wanted to enter her. It felt exciting, exhilarating. Her heart pounded so hard it seemed to creep right up to her throat.
She felt like squirming. The sensations that flew through her were almost unbearable. If he hadn’t thought her still a kid, she would have jumped down those rocks and surely attacked him. Her passion was so great that she could barely contain herself. She wanted to feel, touch and examine that piece of equipment he carried up close to his flat belly. In awe she watched as it suddenly spouted forth semen. It shot out from his pee hole in small squirts. Lucien seemed not to notice. He concentrated on the painting and on her. Everything within her urged her to break the position, to hurry down and lick the white droplets off his cock. Her wanton thoughts surprised her. This was something else compared to masturbating and her imagination when she was in bed alone. This was real. This was about all the stuff she’d read in her mother’s erotic novels.
She was getting tired. Sitting immobile in one position was no piece of cake. Her body felt cramped and it was already sore from the ordeal she’d just experienced. She couldn’t ask him how much longer it would take because of the tomato in her mouth. Out of boredom she bit harder into the tomato. More of its juice and seeds trickled down her chin, down her neck and settled on her chest.
***
Lucien drew in his breath as he watched glistening drops trickle down between her cleft. The girl was horny, he was sure of it. He took in the whole picture of her as she sat there. Her blond ringlets shone like a halo in the sun, her eyes were inky blue and had such an intense expression in them he could have sworn it was passion. He wondered if a girl that age really could experience passion. Then again, what age was she? If she was fifteen, she was still far too young and below the legal age limit.
As he handed her a ripe tomato and told her to lift it to her lips, he watched her pink tongue lick it for a moment. He imagined the tomato to be his balls, his cock, as her little tongue flicked back and forth. His cock jumped to sudden attention and stood straight up. “Hold the tomato with your right hand and let your body hang slightly back leaning on your left hand on the rock,” he ordered while quickly jumping from boulder to boulder back to his canvas.
He felt her eyes on his body as he jumped. His cock was now fully erect. “This is going to be the best painting I’ve ever done, Becky. You know what I’ll call it?”
“What?”
“Sea Orphan.”
“I like that.”
“Well, that’s what you are. The sea gave you to me for inspiration. Heavens knows I needed new ideas,” he said. “Becky, bite into the tomato and let the juices flow down your chin and over your chest.” He waited until she bit into the tomato. “Hold the tomato with your teeth, curl your lips around its flesh. Now don’t move until I tell you.”
His brush flew over the canvas. Never before had he painted a real subject. He’d taken up painting when he moved to the island. Before that, he’d never had the time to dabble in art. All the paintings he’d done were fantasy. This was real. Becky was his real life elf, almost as if she’d arrived from another planet—a gift from the sea. While he was painting, other pictures of her floated through his mind. Becky in the water, Becky on the sand, Becky dressed as a fairy, in a beautiful gown, a miniature princess and Becky digging into a broken watermelon.
His penis throbbed as he roughed in the rude outlines of her body, her clit and her nipples. Slowly, the form on the canvas started to take shape. He worked the eyes first to catch the luminous expression in them then concentrated on her cleft, on the pearly wet drops that now dripped steadily onto the boulder.
Lucien was surprised at her freedom. Had he been mistaken? Was she more experienced than he thought? Maybe that’s why she had run away from home. She was a wild kitten on the loose.
&n
bsp; He drew in his breath as a droplet of the red juice settled on her nipple. It was amazing how large her nipples were for such a young girl. They were at least half an inch in circumference and half an inch long. The partial shade from the large gum tree behind the rocks slowly moved. Now she sat in the full sun. He painted with a vigor he’d never felt before. Time seemed of no consequence until he saw her eyelids droop. He stopped suddenly, the paintbrush between his teeth he climbed up. “It’s getting too hot for you, Becky. We should stop for a while. How about we go for a swim, rest a bit and then continue when the sun isn’t as hot?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Becky said, thrilling at the hand offered to her to help her climb down. Wantonly she left the shirt off the one shoulder and her nipple exposed. “Can I see it?” she asked while darting to the unfinished painting. “That’s not me. You’ve made me look beautiful,” she gasped.
“But you are beautiful.”
“No, I’m not. I’m gawky, skinny and my lips are too fat.”
“You have lovely, sensual lips. They’re made for kissing.”
“I’ve only been kissed once. That was before . . .”
“Before what, Becky?” he asked softly, curious now at how she could be so wanton if she’d only been kissed once.
“Before I became ill.”
“I see. You told me you’re better. What exactly was wrong with you? You said a tumor, but you didn’t elaborate.”
“It’s not important now. I’d rather not talk about it. But even if it flares up again, I don’t want any more treatment. I’m tired of hospitals, nurses, being bald because of the chemo.” Becky finished the last bite of tomato. She ran to the rocks and climbed them to get to the water. “Are you coming in?” she shouted.
“Yes, just a minute.” He concentrated for a moment on the canvas, one more stroke here, another brush stroke there. He stood back and looked at what would be his masterpiece and smiled his satisfaction and glanced up at her, only to see her pearly flesh disappear over the edge. Quickly he followed her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lucien stood on a rock and watched her swim. The water was so clear, he could see the bottom, the plants that waved slowly with the movement of the water and so her could see all of her. The T-shirt billowed around her as she twisted and turned. As she swam to the bottom of the pool, the shirt sank down over her head exposing her naked body. He wanted to paint her that way, under the water. Her legs scissored as she tried to stay on the bottom, the cleft opening and shutting like a fish gasping for air. His cock bounced in answer, ached for release. To still his desire, he jumped into the water and swam around the pool. The tepid water didn’t help any to cool his ardor.
Becky surfaced close to his legs. As she drifted up slowly, she could almost touch his cock, once again stiff and throbbing. Her hand reached but she quickly drew it back. Then she thought mischievously, I’m just a curious child, why shouldn’t I touch and explore. Isn’t that how children learn? While she surfaced she allowed her hand to stroke his erection. It felt soft, velvety and very warm. She encased it with her hand and could feel it throb.
Lucien drew back sharply. “Becky, don’t do that.”
“Why not?” she asked as innocently as she could.
“Because.”
“That’s not a good enough reason,” she laughed and playfully held his cock again.
Lucien groaned. This was too much. If she didn’t stop he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. Never would he want to be known as a child rapist. Watching her and getting horny, that was something else. But having her actually touch his cock, that had to stop. To divert her attention, he tickled and splashed her.
They played like children until Lucien finally said, “Becky, let’s go and rest a while. We’ll continue with the painting after we’ve slept. That’s of course, if you want to.”
“Oh, yes. It’s going to be a beautiful painting,” she said, her voice husky.
Lucien collapsed on the sand and rolled over onto his chest, hiding his erection from her. On purpose, Becky lay below him on the warm sand. She gazed at his strong buttocks, the sac that was still exposed to her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out, crawl between his legs and grab him by the balls. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Even her adored hero couldn’t compare to Lucien. If only he’d shave off that savage beard so she could see his face properly…
Now that she was cooled off, she didn’t want to sleep. But Lucien lay immobile on the sand. To stir him up, she moved to a different spot above him and lay on her belly. For a while she lay silently as if she’d drifted off into a deep slumber, then she moaned as if dreaming and moved her left leg up, knowing full well that this position would expose her clit to his eyes. She wanted him to look at her there, to drink in every part of her. The thought of his eyes examining her private parts sent such searing heat through her body, she thought she’d explode. After a while, she pulled her leg up even more and moved her right leg out until she felt her clit part fully, exposing the soft flesh and opening her vagina to his gaze.
Lucien had tried to rest but when he heard her move up into the shadows, he couldn’t help but look at her. She lay on her belly, her shirt bunched up around her waist, her naked buttocks exposed to his sight. He could just barely see the hint of her cleft. His cock throbbed beneath him. It got uncomfortable so he lay on his side and encased it with his hand. Slowly he moved the skin back and forth. When she suddenly moaned in her sleep and pulled up her leg, his breath almost hissed as it left his mouth. It took all his control not to jump up and mount her. His hand moved faster, squeezed harder, imagining it inside her velvet tunnel, reaching deep inside. Becky shifted her right leg and heaven opened before his eyes. He was sure if he looked closely he could almost see her womb. His fingers ached to stroke, to feel. But the tantalizing fruits were forbidden. All he could do was gaze at the wonder before his eyes, as every part of her lay fully exposed. His breath came in short gasps when he came to a climax, his semen staining the silvery sand. His passion now released, he closed his eyes and lay thoughtless for some time waiting for her to wake up.
Becky had heard his panting. Her body on fire she’d ached to run to him, to tell him the truth about her age, but what did she really know about this man? He was a good man or he would have raped her by now, she knew that much. Heaven knew she’d tantalized him enough and there was no one there to save her from rape. But isn’t that what she wanted? She wanted him to take her, to savage her and take her virginity that had remained intact for so long. He was very quiet now and she wondered if he was asleep. She lay quietly, in the same position without moving until she heard him stir. Then she drew her legs under her and sat on all fours, her buttocks facing him. She looked around to see him standing up. “Are you ready, Lucien?”
“Yes,” he said in a gruff voice. “Did you have a good rest?”
“I feel much better now,” she lied and jumped up to run to the rocks and boulders.
“You don’t have to position me this time, Lucien,” she called down to him. “I know how to sit now.”
Lucien was already absorbed in the painting. Feverishly he worked on the details of her clit from memory until she called out that she was ready. He noticed more skin exposed this time, the slight swelling of her breast and her legs spread wider than before, wantonly, opened to his gaze. “You have to sit exactly like before, Becky.”
“Okay,” she said and closed her legs too much on purpose.
“I’ll come and help you,” he said and climbed up to her.
His hand brushed her nipple as he fiddled with the shirt. It sent electric charges through him. He was sure the hairs on his chest bristled and she’d notice. Fool, he thought, as if she hasn’t already noticed your erections. A girl her age isn’t entirely stupid. He positioned her legs just like they were the first time and stood back for a moment. “Good. Here is a tomato, lean your head back and bite into it when I tell you. Bite into it
hard so that lots of its juices trickle down.” Again he examined her pose. “Your clit is stuck together. It must be wet.”
“If I fix that, I’ll lose the pose. You’d better do it,” she said sweetly.
“I don’t know if…”
“I trust you, Lucien.”
Who was this virginal waif? Hadn’t her parents taught her never to let strangers touch her there? Gingerly now, he reached out and carefully spread the sticky lips apart, exposing the inner labia. He took the dusky pink pieces carefully between his forefingers and spread them so that her vagina was wide open, the small labia protruding sharply on either side like a rosebud just opening its first petals. Because of the lack of pubic hair, her clitoris was easily visible. As he withdrew his fingers, they brushed against the small bud. Trying to ignore its throbbing, he studied her clit closely for a few moments, then climbed down to his easel.
Lucien painted till dusk, until the light was wrong and he could see her cramping. “Time to stop,” he called out to her. “You must be tired.”
“Not really,” she lied. “Is it finished?”
“Almost. I plan a painting a day until a boat comes to your rescue. If you’ll let me.”
“I love you painting me. I feel honored. Are you going to sell them?”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, looking down into her angelic upturned face. “If you don’t mind I’d like to exhibit them.”
She jumped off the rocks, joined him and danced around him in a circle like the kid she was. “Oh, that would be so wonderful. Let me see.” Awestruck, she gazed at the painting. “It looks so real. Almost like a photograph.”
“I’ll finish it tonight. I’ll need you to pose for a little while in the cabin, but not for too long. Can you carry the bottle of turpentine for me?”
Once they were back in the cabin, he barbecued some fish first. A meal had never tasted better to her and she ate with an appetite she’d not had for years. “That was so good, Lucien. You’re a good cook.”