Sissy the Redhead: Making of a Slut Part I

Sissy the Redhead: The Making of a Slut
Part I


She was out mowing the lawn again. That little red head across the street. She was probably thirteen or so. Maybe fourteen, and she had long thick curls of deep red hair. The kind that looks dyed, but isn’t.

Her titties were just coming in, but they were coming fast. She must be pushing a B cup by now, only she wasn’t wearing a bra that day, just a tight little baby tee that said “Candy” on it that showed off her tight, flat waist. The shorts she had on didn’t hurt in the showing off department, either. They were jean shorts that were cut off no further than the crotch, and so tight they must have been left overs from when she was ten.

I sat on my screened in front porch sipping my sun tea, letting my fingers trail across my shirt, over my tits, feeling my nipples harden to tight little pebbles as I watched her. She was so tiny she had a hard time pushing that lawnmower, which made her sweat a great deal. Her shorts would ride up into the crack of her ass and she’d have to pause to pull them out. Each time she did that, my breath caught in my throat.

Whenever she’d pass the stoop leading up to her front door, she’d stop for a drink out of her water bottle, rest with one hand on a thrust out little hip, and pull at a few long, red strands of hair that had stuck to her pretty face, all the time her breasts heaving from the labor.

I thought about what it might be like to peel those sweaty shorts off and slide them down her skinny legs. How her innocent little pussy would smell as I pulled apart the lips and licked her from her tight ass up to her hardening clit. I pictured my hands running over those pert tits and squeezing her nipples, making her moan and writhe under my experienced, womanly touch. Giving her her first real orgasm.

Before I knew it, my tea was forgotten and I had my hand shoved down the front of my shorts, three fingers jammed up into my cunt and a thumb on my clit. I was already close to cumming and was stunned at how fast these thoughts about a young girl were getting me there.

Then I began to imagine that my husband, Jim, was watching us. Watching me thrust my tongue into her small hole, hearing her girlish squeals increase until she would go stiff, and her fresh cum would pour out of her tight, young pussy and fill my mouth. When I pictured him seeing that, and shooting thick ropes of hot cum all over both of us, I went over the edge and exploded into my shorts. By the time the shuddering let off, and I pulled my sopping hand away, the chair I was sitting in had a big wet circle soaked into it and the redheaded girl had finished the lawn.

That night, after solitary dinner as my husband was away on business, I decided to take a hot bath and treat my pussy to a clean shave. As I relaxed in the soapy water, I wondered about the redhead girl and what her bush must be like at her tender age. I imagined it was lightly covered in a soft, downy fuzz, the same color as her hair. I finished shaving myself smooth, then brought myself off three times thinking about how that hair would feel on my lips. By the I toweled off and went to bed, I had made up my mind to talk to that girl the next day. No matter how irrational it was, no matter how wrong, I devised my plan, and would carry it out.


The next morning, I hussied myself up in a very short denim skirt, the kind that would show my baby-smooth pussy and pretty little asshole if I bent over at the waist. I put on a hot pair of elevated fuck-me sandals and tight white tank top, braless of course. I looked myself over in the mirror. Hot! I’m only 31 years old, and look better than anyone I went to high school with. My husband says I have a “Preying Mantis” body.