My Sweet Cyndi

I looked down to find her smiling innocently at me, the top of her head barley reaching my chest.

“My car’s just round the corner there.” I took her hand and she gleefully skipped beside me not quite being able to keep up with my steps.

“You’re walking too fast.” She said with a pout.

“I’m walking perfectly normally.” I said striding along.

“Normal for you.” She kicked the back of my leg and slowed to her own walking pace. For every one step of mine she took two or three; I laughed paternally.

My car alarm beeped it’s welcome. I turned to see her reaction; to see if it would be the same one I got from most girls who saw my car for the first time.

“That’s your car?” She looked on disappointingly to my Aston Martin.

“Yes, why? Don’t you like it?” I pressed a button to unlock the car doors. “Most girls think it’s brilliant.”

“Well, I’m not most girls.” She came back quick with that line, making me feel a complete fool.

“Well, obviously that’s true. You’re like no one I’ve met.” I said in hopes of redeeming myself. She took a seat on black leather.

“I thought you’d drive like a Mercedes or something. You know something more adult and less flashy.” She smiled, teasing at the hint of a mid life crisis.

“I have one of those too.” I said, reaching into the glove compartment for the candy tin.

“You lie! You don’t.” She stuck out her tongue and I placed a freshly unwrapped candy upon it. “Thanks.” She hummed in satisfaction.

“Yes I do! It’s parked in my garage at home.” I leaned back, rested my head on cold leather and placed my hand on the gearshift.

“Well I don’t believe you.” She folded her hands neatly onto her lap, looking around the car’s interior and then out the window to our surroundings. An uncomfortable deafening silence surrounded us. A silence when minutes pass like hours. We’re relatively new to each other despite all of our molesting motions.

“Aren’t you going to take me home? It would be the gentlemanly thing to do you know.” The latter half said with a posh English accent, mirroring my own.

“Yes! Yes. Where do you live?” Turning the ignition I checked mirrors and gauged how much room I’d have to exit the spot. I turned the wheel and felt a hot palm on the back of my hand.

“Not my home, your home.” She gave me a nudge and propped herself up on my shoulder with her tiny hand, manhandling me for a passionate kiss.

“Oh!” I played shock and thanked god for having left the candy tin in the car.

I couldn’t help but look over to my Cyndi; her littleness intrigued me. She had the face of an angel and the mind of the devil himself. She continued looking out the passenger side window still finding amazement in all things London.

“Look! There’s Trafalgar square!” She exclaimed and turned her small frame towards the door, her face glued to the window. That pleated skirt hiked itself up on her turn and again I was greeted with cheek and cotton unicorns.

“Where do you live, Michael?” She rested her paw on my thigh and drummed a beat with her fingers.

“Chelsea.” I made a turn down a side street.

“Posh area. That’s where all the party girls are.” She teased and returned her hands to her lap. “You know, I don’t think you’ve ever seen me naked before?” She slid off her cotton unicorns and unzipped her skirt.

“Um. No.” I cleared my throat as she slid her skirt off and threw it into the backseat. “What are you doing?” I asked and I tried to keep my eye from wandering off the road.

She unlaced her front laced corset, leaving her naked except for those striped knee socks and Mary Jane shoes. I pulled off the road.

“Oh my god,” I flushed over red, “You’re amazing.” I drank her in; slim snake hips, thin firm waist and bountiful breasts. Her hair she braided as I looked on in wonder. She was comfortable in her nakedness. She fiddled with raven locks and paid no attention to me.

“Now do you wanna take me home?” A wicked smile crossed her lips. Temptation I tasted on the tip of my tongue. I started the car and drove at speeds my engine had never known.

At my drive, I parked the car and waited for her to gather her clothes, but she didn’t. She sat happily making a glance over to her door; waiting for me to open it like a proper gentleman.

“Of course, how inconsiderate of me.” I mumbled. Cyndi; my little precious Cyndi, she reached for her bad and slung it over one shoulder. “Wanna see me skip?” Such beauty before me, for a fleeting second my thoughts drifted to the neighbors.

“Unlock the door! Unlock the door!” She bounced up and down on my welcome mat, “I have to pee so bad!”

Lock unlatched, she threw her backpack onto the floor like a child after a hard day at school, and went from room to room in search of relief.

I made my way to the living room, put in a CD and mixed drinks at the bar, being sure to put out a glass of water for my lovely, who I knew had three times the alcohol I had. I heard tiny steps making there way upstairs.

“Where are you going?” I shouted over music.

“To your room. I need something.” She added her signature giggle.

“It’s the fourth door on the left.” Ice cubes hit the short glass and I reached for a lime in the fruit basket. The patter of feet overhead filled me with anticipation and wetted my appetite more.

“Armani,” she was drowning in one of my white dress shirts, “you’re quite the swanky one.” She winked and wrapped her little arms around me. I leaned down and smelled the coconut fragrance of her hair.

“You look sweet.” I proclaimed and she spanked my bottom with a gentle hand.

“Boys like it when girls wear their clothes.” She took the cocktail glass and made her way to the small kitchen table, “Come sit with me. What do you do, I mean for a living? You have all this nice stuff!” She fingered the tip of her glass and dove two fingers in to fetch the lime.

“My family is well off, so a lot of it is inheritance actually. I work in advertising.” I watched her squint at the bitterness of the lime. She placed her now shoeless feet on my knees, teasing me by opening and closing her legs. She laughed at my attempts to keep up conversation, which on the revelation of her shaven cunt would find me lost for words.

She wetted her cherry stained mouth and asked the obvious, “You like what you see?” She opened for me, for a long view. Her fingers stroked her inner thighs and ran along her pink slit.

She teased her clit, raised her juice-drenched fingers to her mouth and sucked greedily, “Mmmm tastes nice.” She scooted down in her chair and worked her foot over my crotch. “Feels like you’ve been thinking naughty things too.” Her eyes met mine and she gave a faint smile as she slid off her chair onto her knees.

“Now it’s my turn to see you.” Pink glittered fingertips unlatched my belt and unzipped my black trousers. She hummed a gleeful tune in her exploration. Her blue eyes gleamed as if it were the first cock she’d ever seen. “Nice.” She said in a half whisper moan.

Her tiny hands barely being able to circumference my cock; she gazed on me before licking my tool up and down like a lolly. I stroked her braids, as she took more of me into her mouth; playing a sort of game with herself, to see how far down she could get her mouth on my cock.

Her bottom swayed from side to side. Her hand moved from my lap; I could see her arm make motion and I knew she was touching herself. She came up for air, her head lifting off my cock, and she let out a guilty moan.

“It feels so good.” She said as her eyes and demeanor turned almost teary and sad, “I like touching myself, is that bad?” A sly smile curled her lip and I could tell she was playing a little girl game with me.

“It’s only bad if you don’t cum.” I paused and watched her move onto her back, “It’s only bad if you don’t let me watch.”

“I get shy!” She lightly protested.

“Bullocks.” I grinned, and she laughed at my English sentiment.

Her hand moved to her mouth where she wetted her fingers; her snatch already glistening with anticipation, I wondered as to why she needed more lubrication. She rubbed her clit furiously, stopping now and then to put those fingers in her honey hole. My cock felt ready to burst. She tweaked her nipple and her hips writhed from under her administrations. I wanted to stroke myself; I wanted to spill my hot seed all over that cunt and make it mine.

She let out moan after moan, her eyelids fluttered back and forth as if she were in dreamland. I wondered what dirty fantasy she had conjured up in that filthy mind.

“Ohhhh!” moaned high in pitch, her fingers worked faster and harder.

“I’m gonna cum!” Her eyes opened wide and searched out my gaze. Her orgasm hit her like firework, and then slowly glazed over in sultry post orgasmic bliss. I watched a creamy droplet slip from her hole.

“Girly cum.” I purred and was down on my knees, licking greedily from the fountain of youth.