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CHAPTER TWO: BETTY

It is sometimes very difficult to persuade people to tape their sex experiences – especially in sensitive areas. And, concerning sexual relations with children, it is understandable if people shy away from self-disclosure. So I have often had to rely on my memory of a few intimate conversations, as well as voluminous notes, in reconstructing the following case history. Always, in cases where I have taped a conversation, the tape has been destroyed after I made my notes.

The following case history concerns a man in his thirties, whom I shall call Gilbert, who became involved with a young, subteen next-door neighbor.

The therapist cannot be held responsible for any misembellishments made in the course of my reconstruction.

Gilbert is in his thirties and four years ago lived in a rooming house next to a rented house in the rundown section of a small California coastal city.

In this house next door lived a tired blonde woman in her late twenties and her three children. The woman was divorced – or abandoned – and was on welfare.

Gilbert at that time was unemployed, living on the small amount given by the state as unemployment compensation.

He owned an old car which he kept in the garage of the rooming house. (For this privilege he paid by doing yard work.) He was in the garage in the car, twisted around on his back, working on the wiring behind the dashboard one afternoon, when one of the next-door woman's daughters wandered in and peered into the car at him. Gilbert heard a sound and looked to the right-side door of his car.

A young girl appeared. She looked at him solemnly. She wore a dirty green dress, too short and tight for her nubile body. Her dark blonde hair was short, stringy and unkempt. It looked amateurishly cut. She was sucking on a piece of candy which she plopped into her dirty palm to look at critically for a second before popping it back into her sticky-lipped mouth. She had big hazel eyes.

He had noticed her in the other yard a few times, with the other children. She looked fourteen. She acted much younger. He thought she was retarded.

He pointed to a flashlight on the seat just out of his reach. "Hand that to me."

She climbed into the car and handed it to him. "Whatcha doin'?" She crawled into the leg area in front of the passenger's side and peered up at where he was fumbling.

"Trying to fix the ignition." He smelled her candy-sweet breath. He glanced at her – and looked again. Her dress was unbuttoned at the top, two big white buttons missing, and it gaped open from her kneeling, crouching position to give a stunning, shadowed view of the inner halves of rounded young breasts, her belly, and the unmistakable plump curve of her mound. She wore no underthings. Just the dress.

Gilbert smiled at her. "What's your name, Suzy-Q?"

"I'm not Suzy-Q… I'm Betty."

He turned the flashlight on her and aimed the beam into the gaping dress. He could see everything. Her breasts were hanging down like soft, white fruit. Her belly button showed, too, sharply indented, and her child's pussy was smooth and bare. He couldn't see her vulva lips. Her thighs were rounded and white.

She saw where he was looking. "You're not supposed to see inside my dress." But she didn't move.

He turned the flashlight back to the wiring overhead. He shifted uncomfortably. The gas pedal was digging into his back. In this position blood throbbed in his head.

Gilbert asked, "How old are you, Betty?"

"Eleven. I'll be twelve in… five months."

He blinked. He looked into her dress again.

She giggled. "I don't like to wear nothing underneath. Everything's too tight or too big." Then she said, "You're lookin' at me like the men look at Mommy."

"You've got a body like your mommy."

"I know, but I'm not big enough to get fucked yet."

The word from her shook him a bit. But slum kids knew it all. He tried to work with one hand while holding the flashlight with the other. "What are you old enough to do?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!"

He smiled and reached for a screwdriver. He snapped his fingers and pointed. She handed it to him. He thanked her. He handed her the flashlight. "While you're here, point it up toward there – where my fingers are."

She nodded and directed the beam as he wished. She moved in closer. She watched him try to untangle wires. "Am I doing it right?"

"Perfect. I owe you a sucker." He fumbled in silence for a minute.

Betty asked, "Do you have a big pee-pee?"

"Why?"

"I heard Mommy say once she liked men with big ones. Do you?"

"I won't tell. You have to find out for yourself."

Betty giggled. "Maybe I will. You want me to?"

"Sure. Go ahead." He smiled at her. "I dare you."

"Dares go first." But she shifted the flashlight to her right hand and reached over to his pants with her left. Her small hand groped around his fly. His cock began to grow down along his belly inside his briefs. Her fumbling was exciting as hell.

She giggled again. "There it is." She gripped it through his pants. "It's getting bigger."

"Reach in under my belt and get a good, honest feel of it."

"I shouldn't. But Mommy does all the time, with her boyfriends."

"How do you know?"

"I peek at them lots of times after she puts us to bed." She hesitated, then slid her hand into his pants.

Gilbert licked his lips and kept his eyes on the ignition wiring, but he stopped working at it when he felt her small curious fingers find his cock.

Betty said, "It's hot!" She reached further in under his waistband and explored his length. "I guess it is pretty big. Can I see it?"

Gilbert got a bit nervous at that. He asked her, "Anybody around?"

Betty raised up and looked out through the front window at the view between the open garage doors. "I don't see anybody. If Mommy calls me, I'd better go, though."

Gilbert felt oddly vulnerable and light-headed. His skull throbbed. One leg stretched up onto the back of the front seat. Most of his weight was centered on his shoulders on the old carpeting in the leg space under the dashboard. His head was resting at an uncomfortable angle on the drive-shaft hump.

He said, "Okay, Miss Curiosity, unzip me and pull it out."

Her hands fumbled at his fly and ran the zipper and reached in to his rigid flesh.

He watched, his chin pressed into his neck, as she lifted his cock free of his shirttails. Her strange, innocent and yet knowing handling brought his hardness to the point of jerking stiffness.

She asked, "Why is it wet on top? Do you have to go?"

"No. That's just… a kind of natural oil to make… fucking easier. It's automatic."

"Oh." She said defensively, "I'm not old enough to get fucked yet."

"I know. Are you old enough to let a man feel you up a little?" He reached out and slid his left hand up her leg, up under her dress, up the smooth, rounded, firm flesh to her naked hip.

She giggled. "I guess so. Some of Mommy's boyfriends feel me like that. They feel my boobies when they can, but she doesn't like it when they do."

Gilbert slid his palm over onto the silky half globes of her ass. He caressed them and trailed his fingertips into the crack, edging them down deeper into her crotch.

Betty wriggled. "That tickles." She experimentally pulled his foreskin up and down over the head of his cock. She said, "Billy's pee-pee is real small. He's my little brother. How old were you when this got big like this?"

"About sixteen." Gilbert squeezed her thigh. He moved his hand around into the front of her crotch and cupped her naked pussy.

Betty wriggled some more. "That's not a nice place."

"Yes, it is." But he abandoned it as she reached down to push his hand away. He slid his arm further up into her dress and his hand passed over her belly and up onto one of her breasts.