Erotica Readers & Writers Association
Home | Erotic Books | Authors Resources | Inside The Erotic Mind | Erotica Gallery
Adult Movies | Sex Toys | Erotic Music | Email Discussion List | Links


Story Gallery | Treasure Chest




Erotic Fiction
Queer Fiction
Kinky Erotica
The Softer Side
Quickies
Flashers
Poetry


The Best of 2013

The Afternoon Circle Jerk Society
by Amanda Earl

Beating the Gothic Out of Her
by Amanda Earl

Real Irish
by Amanda Earl

Mercy and the Man. . .
by Amanda Earl

The Revenant
by Amanda Earl

The Vessel
by Amanda Earl

The Too Beautiful Boy
by Arthur Chappell

The Accidental Fetish
by Corvidae

Never For Punishment
by Daddy X

Like a Brother
by Big Ed Magusson

Old Dogs
by Big Ed Magusson

Goodbye Roger
by Huck Pilgrim

He Sends His Regrets
by Huck Pilgrim

A Small Favor
by Huck Pilgrim

Ava's Honey
by john e

LOX
by john e

Eclipse Sex
by Oxartes

Adam and Eve on a Raft
by Robert Buckley

Dead Man's Switch
by Robert Buckley

Does Immortality come with a Pension?
by Robert Buckley

Embraceable Ewe
by Robert Buckley

A Fragile Desire
by Robert Buckley

Surviving Winter
by Robert Buckley

You're the Only One
by Robert Buckley

Dissolve
by Sybil Rush

Bing Cherry Silk
by Valentine Bonnaire

Colony, Collapsed
by Valentine Bonnaire

Have a Nice Day
by Valentine Bonnaire

l'heure bleue
by Valentine Bonnaire

Once Upon A Time . . .
by Valentine Bonnaire

Red Suede
by Valentine Bonnaire

Yellow, like the daffodils
by Valentine Bonnaire

Novelette

Invisible Lines
by Raziel Moore



Archives

By Alan
Curtain
Other News


By Alice Gray
Slick 50
The Fourth Veda
Stolen Hour


By Amanda Earl
Daddy Complex
The Graffiti Artist
Sex With An Old Woman
The Vampire Responds


By Ann Regentin
What Never Dies
Newborn
Remembering
Surrender


By Big Ed Magusson
The Fix
Methadone


By Brady Sutton
Girls for Leash
The Peculiar Case of...


by C. Sanchez-Garcia
An Early Winter Train
The Doll
The Lady and The Unicorn
Riding the Dog
Fidelis


By Cervo
An Evening At...
Readiness Is All
Chinchilla Lace
Fridays At The Benoit
Cruising On A Sea...
Bitsy Takes a Test
Touring Persephone
Are You Kidding?
Quigley’s Harvest
Mr. Merridawn's Hum
Angels’ Spawn


By Cherry Black
Mrs. Priestly
Face Down
Just A Simple Black Dress


By Chris Bridges
Second-hand
Fast-forwarding
The Whitechapel...
Passing Notes


By Daddy X
Nikki Didn't Like It
Overscratch
A Woman in My Position


By Dominic Santi
Drillers
Kiss of Peace


By G. E. Russell
Judgement Day
Nebulous
First Love, Last Romance
Snow White
This Desolate Eden
The Glass Cage
You Like It Like That...


By Helen E. H. Madden
When The Angels Fall
Husbands and Wives
The Fifth Horseman
The Monster Beneath...
Neighbor of the Beast
Over the Rainbow
Going Viral
Virtual Love


By Helena Settimana
Balance
Highway 69
Amadou
The Space Between


By J.T. Benjamin
The Question
Thornburg Sex Survey
Alternating Weekend
Secret Lives and Lusts
What are Friends For
Olivia's Ulterior Motive
Advice From Miss Millicent
The Baby Doll
The Journals of Chastity
Use Me
Zachary's Perfect Date


By Jill
Kidnapped
Sheila Discusses ...
It's About Sex
A House On Fire?
Maureen and Sheila...


By john e
I Wish My Dick...
johnny's jackoff journal
Saturday Morning


By Julius
In Praise of Pussy
Tight, Tighter, Tightest
You Rang Madam?
The Newcomer


By Juniper Maclay
Lunch Break
The Scientist
Public Transportation


By Keziah Hill
Laying Down the Law
Strawberry Flavoured Joy
The Second Coming
Angel
Dutch Masters


By L.A. Smith
Missionary Position
Both Hands


By Lara Nickles
Almost
Hero


By Lilie Berlin
Naughty Little Girl
Color Less Ordinary


By Mike Kimera
Kneading
Soft Option
At the Adult Bookstore
Postcard
Playing With Barney
Deserving Ruth
Till Death Do Us Part
Happy Anniversary
Mating Calls
It May Not be Art...
Living With It...
The Last Taboo
Hand-Jobs
Fucking Ugly
Paying For It
Sex with Owen
Ask Alice
The Sisters
Bar Snack

The Baby Doll

by J.T. Benjamin © 2010

 

Erotic FictionI returned the phone receiver to its cradle and closed the little metal door that read, “Emergency Only.” I said, “I talked to Building Maintenance. They say it’s a massive power failure. Maybe citywide. They’re working as fast as they can and they’ve notified the fire department, but since neither of us is injured, having a heart attack or in labor, we’re not an urgent priority. So we wait.”

The young woman said, “Why do we still have lights if the power’s out?” She looked upward at the fluorescent glow coming from the elevator car’s ceiling. Her skin was radiant, even though the pale bluish-white light made my own arms and hands look like those of a corpse.

I said, “The building’s got a backup generator that keeps the air circulating and emergency lights on for a while. It’s just not powerful enough to do all that and get the elevators running again.”

With more composure than I’d expected, the young woman said, “So we wait.”

I said, “So we wait.”

Simultaneously, we sat down on the floor, backs leaning against the walls of the elevator car. Although I’m not usually the claustrophobic type, I put as much space as I could between myself and my fellow prisoner of the blackout. She leaned against the wall opposite mine and straightened out her long, smooth, legs. I sat with my own legs crossed, doing my best to create an invisible zone of non-contact between the two of us. The elevator car’s dimensions were maybe eight feet by eight feet. I did everything I could to make sure there was at least four feet of space between us. It was a challenge.

She was stunning; not only that, she was young. Very young. Uncomfortably young. I calculated I was easily old enough to be her father, and considering how randy I’d been when I was a teenager, being old enough to be her grandfather wasn’t out of the question.

She had blonde hair done up in a single, casual ponytail that extended down the middle of her back. She was petite, and on the thin side. She wore a tiny little bright blue-and-orange tank-top shirt, (no bra straps that I could see), a barely-there denim skirt and blue flip-flops. My guess was that she’d been on her way to the mall to scope out the boys and buy the latest Justin Beiber CD. Her skin, as I’ve said before, was radiant and full with the flush of youth. Teen-aged boys would’ve driven through stop lights to stare at her walking along the sidewalk. Hell, I’d have probably done the same thing, and I was certain her parents hadn’t even met yet when I’d graduated high school.

She said, “So, if we’re here for a while, what’s your name?” An unusual level of maturity in her tone of voice, I thought.

“Robert Morgan,” I said. Although I usually go by “Rob,” something told me to use my full name as a reminder of my maturity.

She said, “Hi, Robert Morgan. I’m Josslyn Blackmun.” Then she spelled it for me to differentiate her name from the more common variations, such as “Joceyln” or “Joslin.” She shook my hand and when I broke the handshake, she gave my hand one more little squeeze before she let go, just as a reminder that she didn’t find my touch uncomfortable.

I recalled that Building Maintenance had assured me the air would keep things cool for at least an hour or so, but I found myself already beginning to sweat. I was stealing glances at Josslyn’s legs, especially her thighs where they disappeared under her insanely short denim skirt. If she’d opted to stand up or to even stretch, I was certain I could get a good, clear view of her panties, and I was torn between wanting her to stretch, and praying she did nothing of the sort.

I decided to steer the conversation in a direction that would remind me of Josslyn’s tender age. I said, “So, which high school do you go to? What do you want to do when you go to college?”

She smiled like she’d just remembered a private joke. She said, “I’m not in high school anymore.”

I folded my arms in a classic defensive posture. I said, “Oh, really? Did you drop out? What do you do for a living?”

Now, Josslyn laughed, still enjoying her private joke. She said, “I’m a Baby Doll.”

My mind raced through a catalogue of terms I’d heard my own teenaged daughter use in conversations with her friends. What was a Baby Doll? I asked, “What’s a Baby Doll?”

Josslyn said, “A Baby Doll is an actress-slash-model-slash-paid personal companion who specializes in catering to the fetish of men and women who want to be with underage girls, but who don’t want to break the law by doing so.”

I knew exactly what she meant, but she must’ve interpreted my shocked expression as befuddlement. She said, “People pay me to have sex with them or pose for pictures for them because I look like I’m under eighteen.” She brought one leg up and my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to her crotch underneath that short, short skirt. What color were those panties?

Josslyn asked, “How old do I look, Robert?”

I tried to look nonchalant, but I knew I was failing at it. I shrugged. “Sixteen, maybe seventeen?”

She smiled. “Thank you. That’s something I work hard to sell.” She reached into her purse, a little pink vinyl number that looked like it was all the rage at the nearest high school. She handed me a folded piece of paper, an identification card, and some photographs.

I looked through them, trying to appear more disinterested than I was. The piece of paper was a copy of a birth certificate for Josslyn Blackmun, and according to the date of birth, she was one month shy of turning twenty years old. The card, a driver’s license, had the same information. The photos were of Josslyn, mostly from what appeared to be high school, but they all displayed some form of visual evidence that they were at least two years old. In one photo, she was wearing a cheerleader’s outfit that displayed a prominent “08” number on the skirt. In another photo, she was standing with other students next to a banner that read, “Class of ’08 Rules!”

I handed the papers and photos back to Josslyn and she said, “I’d show you my senior yearbook, but it wouldn’t fit in the purse.”

She started talking, and I mostly listened. She told me about how she’d always looked young for her age, and how she figured out how to exploit that fact for her benefit. She told me about how certain alterations in her makeup or her wardrobe or her hairstyle could make her appear younger still. She told me about the six different cheerleader outfits she had at home, the four different schoolgirl uniforms, the ways she could act like the innocent naïf just as easily as she could the worldly-beyond-her-years slut. She told me about the little packets of fake blood she sometimes inserted into her vagina to simulate the piercing of her hymen. She told me about the prominent local clergyman who enjoyed abusing his authority with her. She told me about the high school principal who couldn’t indulge his lust for the hundreds of girls he encountered every day at work. She told me about the closeted suburban lesbian housewife who lusted after
 the friends her daughter brought home. I half-expected her to proudly proclaim she was performing a public service, and if she had, I’d have been hard-pressed to counter her arguments.

Josslyn told me about how some of her clients liked to “deflower” an innocent. Some of them liked the rush of dominating someone they considered helpless and easily overpowered. Some of them enjoyed the way she made them feel as young and as vibrant and energetic as she.

Finally, Josslyn said, “What about you, Robert? What gets you hard at the thought of fucking one of those teenaged girls you see at the mall or in the high schools?”

I laughed, an all-too-phony laugh. “I haven’t had the urge to have sex with a teenager since I was one myself.”
Josslyn laughed. “Bullshit, Robert. It’s part of my business to know what people want, and you might as well have a neon sign flashing above your head.” She stood up and kicked off her sandals. She reached under that insanely short denim skirt with her hands and tugged down, slowly removing what proved to be a tiny little white thong down her thighs, then her calves, then her dainty little feet.

She then wriggled out of the skirt, and removed her top. She had little breasts, but large, erect nipples. She said, “Let me guess. You’ve always had a thing for the young ones, haven’t you, Rob? When you were a teenager you chased them all over town, didn’t you? But then you graduated high school and you went to college and you entered your twenties and thirties and forties and the age difference between you and those sweet young things just got bigger and bigger and you started feeling like a creep, didn’t you, Rob? Like a dirty old man. For lusting after the same thing you’ve lusted after your whole life. Your passions didn’t change, but you did. You just got older.

I said nothing, but my erection painfully pressed against the fly of my slacks.

Josslyn knelt down and began unbuttoning my pants, pulling them and then my underwear down around my ankles. She smiled at the appearance of my erection.

I tried but failed to get some words of protest out as Josslyn removed a condom from her little bitty purse and she put it on my raging hard cock. She sat down in my lap, held my cock in her hand, and guided it into her pussy.

Oh, my God, that tight little pussy! She grimaced as the head of my huge prick slipped past the lips of her little bitty cunt, grimaced even more as my shaft went deep inside her, paused for a moment to allow her body to get used to the size of me, and then, once my cock was all the way inside, and her pelvis was pressed against mine, there was an expression of relief and pleasure on her face.

She did all the work. Her torso moved back and forth, riding my cock and she let out little, high-pitched moans while she did so. At first, I was afraid to touch her body while she fucked me, afraid to admit I was enjoying myself, that I was allowing this to happen. My hands eventually moved along her smooth, little belly and up to those tiny breasts with the big nipples. She moaned when I caressed them, and when I pinched one, she squealed and laughed. Then, my hands moved to Josslyn’s buttocks, squeezing it and pulling apart her ass cheeks. One of my fingers found its way to her anus, and I delicately pressed against it; I didn’t dare go further, although I wanted to. She gasped and started riding me with more force and energy.

She started kissing me, her tongue darting in and out of her mouth and into mine, still gasping and moaning all the while. She was leaning forward close enough for me to take one of those tantalizing nipples into my mouth, so I did so and I bit it, hard enough for her to gasp so loudly it echoed in the confines of the elevator car.

She was thrusting and thrashing around now so vigorously and with so much energy I feared my cock might slip out of her pussy, but she didn’t let that happen. She was shaking and trembling and I could feel the muscles of her cunt contracting around my cock, making it feel even tighter, and I could hear her gasping and moaning reaching a higher pitch until I thought she sounded like…like a teenaged girl.

I came. Hard. Usually, I can feel the orgasm in my entire body, but this one was entirely focused in my penis, like a high-powered rifle. Like a laser. I was cumming so hard it hurt. I grabbed Josslyn around the waist for fear she might be blasted off my body. She was trembling as I grasped her and she moaned and gasped and finally whimpered, as if my orgasm had battered her into semi-consciousness. I felt battered, myself.

When I returned to my senses, I was still grasping her tightly, my head pressed against her chest, her tiny little breasts with the big nipples within reach of my tongue. We were both breathing like we were exhausted. For a long time, we just sat there, her on top of me, my penis inside her, throbbing and pulsing and eventually becoming flaccid.

Finally, Josslyn stood up. With a workmanlike air she started dressing.

I stood up and pulled up my pants. I didn’t know what to do with the used condom, so I tossed it into the corner of the elevator car. I said, “Um, I don’t know what you charge for your … services, but I don’t have much cash on me.”

Josslyn giggled and said, “No charge. Think of it as a free sample. I wouldn’t be doing this if I just didn’t like to fuck.”

The fluorescent light flickered, there was a groan and the elevator car shook, and then some motor somewhere roared to life. The blackout had apparently ended. We were going toward our original destination, the ground floor.

Josslyn smiled. “Perfect timing,” she said. She was pulling her blouse over her head and over those little-girl breasts of hers. She said, “Robert, can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” I said. Not that I could deny her anything at this point.

Josslyn removed a small notepad and a pen from her purse. She said, “You know about Photoshop, right? You know that anybody can create any picture they want to look any way they want, don’t you? And anybody can get any birth certificate they want, too? And how anyone can get a fake ID these days? Especially teenaged girls?”

I could feel molten lead bubbling up from my bowels into my stomach. “What are you saying?”

Josslyn was writing something onto her notepad. She said, “I’m just saying that if I were really an underaged slut who liked fucking with older men, it would be very easy for me to set things up so that I looked like I was over the age of consent.” She paused for a moment and laughed. “Relax, Robert. I’m just fucking with you now. I’ll be twenty next month. I’m perfectly legal.” She tore a sheet of paper off the notepad and gave it to me. She said, “I’m just wondering if the notion that I’m really under eighteen makes you more likely or less likely to call me sometime. That’s my cell phone number.”

The elevator doors opened. Josslyn strode out of the car, took a deep breath of fresh air and said, “Catch you later, Robert.” She walked around the corner and she was gone.

I thought better of leaving the soiled condom for some maintenance worker to find, and I picked it up and deposited it into the nearest trashcan. I tossed the notepaper Josslyn had given me out the window of my car on my way home.

I’d already memorized her phone number.

_______
© 2010 J.T. Benjamin. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Who is J.T. Benjamin? Read his bio on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website.


Authors live for feedback!
If you enjoyed this story, please send comments to
J.T. Benjamin

[Filigrie]



  E-mail this page


Search ERWA Website:

Copyright © 1996 and on, Erotica Readers Association, Inc.
All Rights Reserved World Wide. Reproduction in whole or in part in any form or
medium without express written permission is prohibited.

Archives

By Nan Andrews
At Rest
Spirit Guides


By Nick Nicholson
The Room
Grigore & Tatiana
Land of Smiles
The Uniform
Hooked


By Nikki Isaak
A Rathskeller Jar
Empty
The Dread That Stained Kalos


By Oxartes
Maybe You Can Go...
I Am Not A Scorpion
Babylon Nights
Eat Your Veggies
What Would Aristippus Think
The Vow Part I
Fiend in Need Part II
Androids Behaving Badly
Innocent Flower


By Remittance Girl
The Central Registry
The River Mother
Things Bettter Left Unsaid
Shellshocked
The Baptism
The Other Side
I Waited for You...
Pleasure's Apprentice
Fixed in Amber


By Riccardo Berra
Ligne Claire
The Girl with Two Lovers


By Richard V Raiment 
Ghosts of Christmas Past
Recalled to Life


By Robert Buckley
Absentee Ballots
Making Her Late For...
Crazy
Infidelity
Brotherhood Of The ...
Convenience Store
Head Games
Practicing Lovecraft
Outsourcing
Coins For The Ferryman
Seeing Is Believing
Matrons
The Mission
A Weekend in Queens..
The Exchange
Suspicion
Restive
Close to Hand
Excess Of Light
Patience
Smears
Malay
They Need Me
Bench Mates
Paladins
Pre Need
Rescues
Cthulhu's Toad
The Dog Park
Smells Like Money
Extraordinary Graces
Poe-tics
What Now?
You Get What You Pay For
The Angel of Loneliness
The Great Sin
Independence
Mere Moments
An Unconventional Friendship


By Robert GSK
Amarind
Still Life


By Rose B. Thorny
Maestro
The Thing Under the...
Only When It Rains


By Savannah
Naked Ambition
The Principal of the Thing


By Sidney Durham
Junk Yard Goddess
I'm Only Shaving!
Stripes
Santa, Baby!
Sometimes I Can ...
Speaking of Escher
The Road Not Taken


By Tulsa Brown
Flesh On A Woman
Half Moon Girl
Debt of Honor


By Valentine Bonnaire
American Daddy-O
Bukowski Girls
Afterglowing
Viresence


By William Dean
Stranger in the Bonfire
Great Notion
Kiss Me And Then...
Switch Back
A Hand in the Bush
Buy Me Something
Forest for the Trees
Swap Meet
Burning Man
Port Said
Kler
Twisted Faith
Political Asylum
Torn


Screen Play
by A.F. Waddell

A Filing Fling
by Addison Long

Ménage A Cart
by Adhara Law

Elevator Shaft
by Alana James

Torn in Two
by Alicia Night Orchid

May
by Angela Caperton

Tedia, Goddess of Boredom
by Arthur Chappell

The Lady-killer
by BJ Franklin

Cycle
by B.K. Bilicki

The Vacation
by Beth Vox

You Belong to Me
by C. Sanchez-Garcia

Frostbite the Ice Pimp
by Chuck Lovepoe

So Much in Common
by Daphne Dubonet

The Hand & I.
by EllaRegina

Safari Tuesday
by G. Gregory

The Puss Hater
by Inna Spice

One for the Road
by J. Corvo

Full Serviced
by J.D. Coltrane

Naked Over New York
by J.Z. Sharpe

The Chocolate Wife
by James Robert Sands

Once Shy
by Jamie Smithe

Fresh
by Jean Roberta

Caitlin Comes Clean
by Jerry Rightson

Something To Make...
by Jim Parr

Melanie and Jay Go...
by jtallen

Peeping George
by Jude Mason

It's Lovely. It's Horrible.
by Kathleen Bradean

The Temp
by Kaye Heche

A Husband's Lesson
by Kim Bax

Better Than a Blow...
by Lauren Mills

Page 12 - No. F
by LilyOrchid

In The Name Of...
by Michael Michele

The Classics
by Nettie Kestler

The Wounded Healer
by Nicholas M.

Stella
by Nick Santa Rosa

The Cabin
by P. E. Brink

Boom
by Raziel Moore

Post Mortem
by Riccardo Berra

Newly Reformed Woman...
by Seneca Mayfair

Idyll
by Teresa Lamai

Alter Christus
by Teresa Wymore

Shadows of De La Rosa
by Tori Diaz