[Let me tell you about my pedophilia]

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Let me tell you about my pedophilia (1).

It started when I saw someone repost Wang Xinling's MTV. Watching the little girls jumping around in high socks,

I was itching to do something

. Men are strange creatures. A few years ago, I used to stare at the butts of women in their 30s. Now, I drool over

the little girls in high socks and miniskirts.

At a typical Chinese family gathering, the host was a well-known middle-aged single lecher.

New faces would always appear at his gatherings, so I became a regular at his house. I sat down at his house, grabbed a beer, and started looking around.

Claire was sitting at one end of a three-seater sofa, dressed like an American tee, in a vest and hot pants.

She was petite, about 156-158cm, and dressed to highlight all her advantages. I tried to make contact with her. She was easily

amused, and I could never understand the topics that we, a group of old men, were talking about.

Back then, I was quite special. When I saw her, I kept imagining the bouncy and energetic Cyndi Wang

(Nude). I was attentive, chatting and joking,

inviting her to take my phone, and even offering to take her home.

Before three days had passed, I called her to ask her out. When we met, she greeted me with "Hello, Uncle," making me

feel a little guilty while simultaneously marveling at the invincible power of youth—she looked good in everything.

She had just turned 19, her life as an international student began at Arkansas High School, and she had been abroad for several years.

Her parents unsurprisingly, were corrupt officials in some region, so she lived a carefree life, with no worries about money or housing. She had countless romantic experiences, always

treating each one as true love. Hearing this gave me a chill, but then she said she sometimes felt true love was bullshit, which

gave me a sigh of relief.

After a few dates, I sensed she was very open-minded about sex, and I gradually steered the conversation towards

intimate topics, slowly trying to guide her. Other topics were too far removed from our generational differences; I often wanted to slap myself.

A child is a child, you can't see the trap you're setting. We talked about SM and threesomes, and I guess her heart started to flutter

.

Once I shamelessly said, "If you feel that you can have sex, then you can have sex."

Suddenly, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel...

She replied, "I have sexy lingerie at home."

I followed the clue and started to coax her, saying that my skills in bed are exceptionally good, and asked if she wanted to try it after dinner. She hesitated

for a long time and then nodded.

I hurriedly paid the bill, and with my tent in my pants, I ran all the way. I got out of the car and took a condom from the trunk...

I continued

to talk about my pedophilia (2)

and Claire were entangled on the sofa for a long time. I carried her little figure into the bedroom and saw her curled

up . I had a bit of a tender feeling for her, but my animalistic instincts prevailed

. I started to linger on her earlobe with the tip of my tongue, then her neck, collarbone, and back. She lay there with her eyes closed,

moaning very softly. I asked her if she was comfortable, but she didn't answer.

I pulled down her tank top and continued teasing her around her bra with my tongue. I picked her up, rested her head on my shoulder, and started

unhooking her bra. Her arms were hanging loosely, not hugging me, but burying her curly hair in my chest. I had

my old problem couldn't unhook it. She smiled and slowly unhooked it herself. As soon as her hands loosened, I pulled it off. Her breasts

were pitifully small, like a little bean dumpling in our local dialect. I kissed her for a while but didn't feel anything. I

started focusing on her lower body, licking her inner thighs and groin

. My fingertips stimulated the sensitive areas of her panties, and I could feel the overflowing wetness even through the fabric. She

resisted a little, and I coaxed her for a while before she finally took it off. After observing her, I sighed at how wonderful youth is. She was small, pinkish in color

, with only a few fine hairs. I prepared for a three-part attack, and as soon as I touched her, my mouth was covered in hair.

The usual routine was a series of oral sex sessions, but she was very sticky and secreting a

lot of fluid. After a couple of mouthfuls, I couldn't handle it all, so I switched to focusing on her clitoris. I lifted her legs with my large hands and gave her oral sex for over 10 minutes,

but unfortunately, she didn't respond much, just moaning with her

eyes closed. Just as I was filled with lust, she suddenly stopped me, saying, "That's enough for tonight," and gave my penis a good thud .

Believe it or not, that was the end of our bestial time.

For a man, the most frustrating thing isn't not being able to get it, but being stopped halfway through.

Frustration wasn't an option, so I didn't call her afterward.

A week later, I received a call from her saying she wanted to see me again, asking if we could have dinner together.

Although my interest had greatly diminished, I went with my head down, pretending to be happy and pathetic. She probably

sensed something.

On another date, listening to her incessant tenendram, I even had suicidal thoughts.

Before leaving, she asked me if I wanted to go to her house. I asked her if we could have sex if we went.

She said she had just bought some new clothes and wanted to show them to me. While driving, my mind started to wander...

Continuing ... Let

me tell you about my pedophilia (3) End

I used to think that old cows were shameless, but after experiencing it, I felt the bitterness

of old cows. Patience is the key to eating young grass.

The result of waiting was unexpected. VS's backless Lingerie with fishnet stockings and high heels made

me want to rape her.

The little girl must have thought about this outfit for a long time, but unfortunately the fishnet is a panty, and

the color of the panties doesn't match the skirt.

She wrapped her legs around my waist and started kissing me. At the same time, I used my claw hand to touch her up and down and squeeze her little butt.

I laid her flat on the bed, removed her fishnet stockings, and

kissed

she only moaned softly; an orgasm was definitely out of the question. Then

I got back to the part I hadn't finished last time. She was wet down there, so entry was easy. She was small, and although her vagina was tight, it was very shallow. Every time I pushed forward a little, she cried out in pain, feigning distress and asking me to touch her lower abdomen, gesturing that my penis

was already touching there.

Deep penetration was out of the question. I kept thrusting in and out in the same position for a long time, looking at her in pain on the bed,

thinking: What's the difference between this and rape?

Being a doggy-style dog, being on top is obviously impossible. I stopped and lay down on the bed. She looked at me,

lowered her head and pulled my penis towards her. Clumsily, like a kitten, she licked it with the tip of her tongue for a while. She was excited for a few minutes at first, but when I asked her

to take it in her mouth, she was surprised and asked how.

I cursed her ex-boyfriends, those so-called true loves, for not even teaching her something as basic as oral sex.

The second and third times we made love, it was the same. She only liked caresses and oral sex; penetration hurt, and I wanted to

torture her but couldn't bring myself to do it. Each time, she could only lick me a couple of times like a kitten.

A sexless, loveless relationship between an old man and a young woman was incredibly boring. After each time, I had to find a way to relax

. Gradually, I

found it increasingly difficult to tolerate her childish behavior—jumping around while shopping, making nonsensical demands and

asking questions. The generation gap made our conversations even more limited; sometimes it felt more difficult than raising a daughter.

A pedophile dating a young woman—it seems I'm still not skilled enough.

...Her last MSN message was: "xx, you're a fucking bastard."

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