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As I started up the path, little Jean dropped back and looked up at me with her moonstone-grey eyes. She said, “Jeff, I want to talk to you. Meet me at the shack as soon as you can.”

I started to ask her what was up but before I could get a word out, she had trotted ahead to rejoin the group walking ahead of us… five beautiful, bobbing, lightly clad female rumps and one ugly male bottom.

When I got to the shack half an hour later, little Jean was already there. She said, “What took you so long?”

I said, “I made it as quick as I could,” and wondered why I should be on the defensive with a twelve-year-old kid.

She got up off the couch and said, “I want you to fuck me.”

I damn near went down the drain, though after what had happened with my other sisters I probably shouldn't have been so surprised. But, until then, Jean had always seemed just a little girl, a runny-nosed preteenager, a child.

She read me and said, “If you don't, I'm going to go out of my mind.”

I said, “But…”

She said, “Oh, don't make such a thing out of it. I know you fucked Anita and Darlene before we left. And if you're worried about my being a virgin like Francie, don't. I've been fucking since I was ten.” She moved in close, looked up at me and said, “Please, Jeff… I've got to get my rocks off.”

I never had been able to refuse her anything… from making her a kite, when I had better things to do, to slipping her hard-won allowance money for a Saturday afternoon.

This, I decided, was a hell of a time to take a hard line with her.

Besides, twelve-year-old or no, when she turned it on as she turned it on for me then, Jean was suddenly an irresistible little sexpot. She had ash-blonde hair and long light lashes and a round little face that was going to be beautiful. Below, she had a round firm little body that could literally do anything.

She was wearing a little peach-colored shorts-and-bra outfit that took her about two seconds to peel off. It was the first time I had seen her naked in years, and there had been some interesting developments with sensational ones in prospect.

Nude, Jean might have been a satin-skinned boy but for two major differences. Her breasts, which had begun to swell with promise, caused a pair of exceptionally large nipples to stand out from her ribs in low relief. Their areola were so close to the hue of her suntan that the nipples themselves appeared to have no surrounding discs at all. The other difference was in her cunt, above which a little swirl of ash-blonde down was barely evident… but the mound from which it sprouted was large and round, its lower portion bisected by a crack that suggested her cunt was as interesting and as beautifully placed as Darlene's.

Jean's approach to the business of fucking was much more forthright and matter of fact than that of her older sisters. Perhaps she was too young to flirt… though, as a boy who has been brought up in a houseful of females, I have never yet seen one of them who was too young to flirt. Let's put it this way… she didn't fool around.

I got out of my clothes in a hurry and I could have hung them on my prick, which was sticking outward and upward with an eagerness that suggested it hadn't found a home in months… what a liar! When Jean moved in on me, she was so short that the tip of my rigid tool caught her right at the base of her breastbone. She had been about to embrace me, but, finding this barrier of flesh in the way, she stopped and considered it, frowning charmingly. She moved it to one side, then to the other, but it swung back before she could press her sleek little body against mine. She pushed it up against my chest and closed, but the damned thing was beneath us like a broom handle.

She scowled at it, then looked up at me, her lovely grey eyes abrim with mischief. She said, “What a beautiful big handle!” Then she turned her back on me, revealing dimpled little buttocks and, taking hold of my prick in her tiny fist, marched into the other room, leading me like a child with a huge dog on a leash.

There, without letting go of it, she lay down flat on her back on the makeshift bed and opened herself wide. It was evident that Jean had little use for foreplay… or need of it. Her nipples were sticking up like stiff little pricks already and her cunt was already creaming. From the outside, it was a very interesting cunt. It was as highly placed as Darlene's, but with a huge pair of orchid-purple labia… and even more than Darlene's, the clitoris was outside of her hole, midway up the crack above it, almost completely detached from the rest of her sex-apparatus.

Still hanging onto my dong, which was throbbing with anticipation, she pulled me down into her saddle and placed the head of my cock right between those sweetly suffusing lower lips. As I came down over her, she looked dangerously small and fragile compared to my much greater size and bulk.

I said, “I'll squash you.”

She said, “Stick it in, Jeff… I won't break.”

With the words, she thrust her hole up at me and caught my prick in her pool of pleasure, pulling it halfway in. I was again past the point of no return and couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to… which, as so often before in like circumstances, I definitely didn't.

I counterthrust, driving my dong deep into her… but hit bottom before it was two-thirds buried. I pulled back, or tried to, not wanting to wreck her insides, but those outsized labia surrounding the lips of her cunt seemed to rise up and clamp right around the base of my cock, trapping me like a fly caught in a venus fly trap.

I said, “Jesus, Jean… where'd you pick that up?”

She gave my prick's base a squeeze with her labia that sent the jizzum racing in my balls, then said, “I didn't have to pick up anything. I was born with an educated pussy.”

There was no coherent talking after that… at any rate, none I can remember.

Setting her little bottom firmly in place on the mattress, planting her feet wide apart, Jean began thrusting and gyrating her cunt with a speed and perfect rhythm that reminded me of a great orchestra in full flower. Everything was beautifully integrated… and the more action she gave her cunt, the tighter the grip she held on my cock with her labia.

She thus held me in her tunnel of love as close as she wanted me but gave me terrific action at the same time. Before three minutes were up, I let go a full charge into her… I couldn't do a thing about slowing it up, so great was the way she moved making it.

She shuddered, stopped briefly and cried, “Oh, shit, there I go again… milking a man before I'm ready.”

I said, “This is Jeff, Jean… remember? Just keep it moving and don't give up the ship.”

My words seemed to excite her. She closed her eyes and got her little arms around my middle as far as they would go… and then closed her cunt more tightly than before, as if to keep every last drop of our merged fluids inside her.

I remembered the trick I'd tried on Darlene and reached down as we went right on fucking and diddled her fully exposed clitoris. She was building a fine hot fire for both of us as it was, but when I touched the button, the munitions factory blew sky high.

Until then, when I thought about Jean at all, it was as a quiet kid who kept to herself and minded her own business… but then, I had never been in her business before. She had the lowest boiling point of any of my sisters… and they were none of them exactly slow to convulse in climax. Maybe Jean was on Fahrenheit while the others were on centigrade… any way you looked at it, her degrees of heat were closer together.

How so much sex sap could flow from such a small container was a phenomenon of nature. Little Jean didn't just flow… she spouted, she cascaded. The slippery-slickness of my jizzum in her cunt was dissolved in seconds and the sticky sweetness of her own fluids made thrusting in and out of her tunnel like poking my prick into a tube of thick machine oil. It took a little doing but was it ever worth the effort!