Of dream and panties and little girls -1

There's nothing sexier than sheer panties on a young teenage girl. The way they cosset tight swollen pussies and pretend to protect modesty yet let you see the full glory of an immature hairless mound underneath is really quite stunning. And, could it get any better than when, as you look closer, you see the beginning of a small cleft formed by plump labia? Can there be a better sexy tease than seeing the beginning of a teenage girl's cleft curving down to disappear under a double layered gusset, hidden from view, waiting to be unveiled for your pleasure?

It's an intensely erotic experience; wanting to see more, teased by the spectacular mound of a pretty, sexy juicy girl, given a glimpse of heaven and denied the joy of seeing the full pubis in all its glory. It makes your erection ache as you imagine touching her sheer panties and feeling the seductive shape of her soft pubis, her most private place, the amazing sweeping mound rising and filling her panties so sexily. Excitement surges when you contemplate turning her around to see her beautifully petite bottom held inside sheer panties, your cock swelling at the prospect of a delightful butt crack visible underneath.

Blood pounds in your ears when you think about slipping your hand inside those sexy, sexy panties and feeling silky young skin and, oh, a teenage pussy, a young teen pussy, a hairless marvel of nature, a perfect sexy handful, something you've dreamed about.

It's even better when the sexy teenage girl smiles coyly, expectant eyes glittering with naughty excitement, and she says, "Guess what? I'm wet!" Oh I will cream right away.

There's nothing sexier, nothing more arousing. I know. I speak from experience. It started. . .

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I watched Samantha charge across the green lawn chasing Ralph, their new black Labrador Retriever puppy. He loped with a gait unique to puppies, all paws and on the edge of tripping over himself, unsteady, as if he'll just keel over at some point as he tries to turn, or take a head-first tumble when trying to stop, his tongue hanging as if he's smiling, feeling nothing but pure unadulterated joy.

Sam and Ralph had been going at it for half an hour and I was exhausted just watching them. Sipping a Coors, I smiled as Sam let loose with a scream of laughter, diving to the right, Ralph turning and taking off to the left. It seemed appropriate that Sam had also entered that stage of development where she seemed to be all arms and legs and big feet from a growth spurt, sort of awkward, just like the puppy.

Late-afternoon sun felt warm on my skin, a perfect temperature, not too hot. I turned my face up to the sun, smiling as Sam's delighted laughter burst out again. A lawn mower buzzed noisily two houses down, the wonderful smell of fresh-cut grass scenting the air. This was nice.

"Do you want another beer, Paul?"

Glancing behind, I grinned at my sister. "Okay. Are you sure you don't have anything other than this Coors crap?"

Jill smiled. "Beggars can't be choosers. You want one or not?"

"I'll take one. Don't bring it. I'll come get it."

Rising, I took another look at Sam, dark brown hair now streaming out behind her as she raced towards the wooden fence at the end of the yard, Ralf barking in excitement, ears flapping as he tried to escape. He tumbled, a ball of black fur rolling and scrambling, Sam's laughter strong.

I slipped through the sliding glass patio door into Jill's kitchen, dropping an empty Coors can on the counter and tugging the fridge door open, a wave of cool air wafting over me.

"She's addicted to that puppy," I said while hunting through the fridge, hoping to discover a long lost Heineken.

"I know. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done."

Reluctantly settling on another Coors, I closed the fridge door, leaned back against the counter and popped the tab on the can. Jill was fussing around, gathering the makings of an early dinner, a bar-b-que I was supposed to handle. I loved fire, such a manly thing, so I had no problem grilling. Jill was five years older than me, thirty-four. She used to be slender but childbirth had added some width to her hips, some substance to her frame. Three children had taken their toll. Her acrimonious divorce had added lines to her face. Yet, despite that, Jill was a pretty woman. Her dark brown hair was cut to shoulder-length, straight and thick. She still had beautiful eyes, warm and caring, and a smile that could knock your socks off; one Sam had inherited.

I put the beer can down, walked over to her and hugged her from behind. "You okay, Sis?" I asked. At five-five, I could rest my chin on the top of her head, which I did, much to her pretend annoyance.

She sighed. "Yeah. I'm good. Listen," she added as I moved back to get my beer, "thanks for house sitting."

"No prob. You sure Sam's okay with this?"

"Are you kidding? She's the one that asked to stay and suggested you. I think she's got a little crush on you, Bro. By the way, I've put phone numbers on the fridge. We'll be back around. . ."

"Jill, relax. Honestly, I've house sat before." I wasn't sure why she was so nervous about it. Although, this was the first time I was going to have to stay overnight for three nights. My apartment was twenty minutes away if I needed anything. Sam was an exceptionally well behaved niece, and I was quite confident I could handle her and a puppy.

Jill grinned at me. "I'm not nervous, Paul. It's just I haven't been away for so long."

"Then enjoy. When are Kate and Michael getting home?"

Jill glanced at her watch. "Should be soon. Why don't you start the bar-b-que?"

I fiddled with the charcoal, mounding it and squirting a liberal amount of lighter fluid on the pile. I was shooting for six feet flames this time. Standing back, I tossed the match. A whoosh sounded as a beautiful eight-foot flame exploded, sucking oxygen from around me and reaching high to singe the leaves of the tall old oak above. I grinned. Success.

It was good that Jill was finally getting away, I thought. She deserved it after the divorce. I'd hated Jason, her ex, with a passion. He was suave, handsome, articulate, and an inveterate flirt. I liked to flirt, too. But Jason was married, married to my sister. His flirting at any and every female just drove me crazy. My pleas to Jill had fallen on deaf ears, her commitment to the marriage too strong. But, when she discovered him cheating, the fireworks had gone off. Kids or no kids, he was done, his goose well and truly cooked. Thank God.

She was off to Vegas, fifteen year old Michael and fourteen year old Kate in tow. It had been my birthday present to her. When she later called me to decline the present, Sam not wanting to go, I offered my services as well, not realizing Sam had already suggested it.

It was all good. Besides, I loved dogs.

With a poke of the charcoals, I sat, my attention turning back to Sam. She ran towards me, dark brown hair bouncing, a shit-eating grin on her remarkably pretty face, Ralph barking and chasing. I had time to put my beer down and close my legs to protect the jewels before she threw herself into my lap, Ralph jumping excitedly, yapping with enthusiasm.

"Did you see?" Sam asked breathlessly, grinning broadly, dimples and all. I adored the twinkle in her brown eyes.

"See what?"

"I almost caught Ralph when he tripped over nothing! Isn't he cute?"

I hugged her. "Not as cute as you."

She scrambled out of my lap. "Come on, Ralph!"

Seeing such boundless enthusiasm and pleasure was one of the rare treats of life, I thought. I really loved Sam. Of the three, Sam had the most explosive personality, completely overwhelming, a carefree enthusiasm for everything. She was impossibly optimistic, something that life was going to beat out of her in a few years. Until then, I basked in it.

But, what intrigued me was how Sam could go and go and go and then she'd hit a wall and suddenly become soft and cuddly, like the puppy.

I loved Kate and Michael as well. But they both had entered the stage where they were trying too hard to be grown-up, shunning physical closeness, reluctant to give their mother hugs, playing cool, remote, trying to portray maturity. Every so often their childish personality would slip out, a grin at a silly movie, a giggle at the puppy's antics, or some unexpected pleasure, like dessert for breakfast at Uncle Paul's place. Never-the-less, Sam had yet to succumb to incipient maturity, thank goodness.

Sam and I waved to the departing taxi, Ralph yapping inside the bungalow-style house behind us. An early dinner of ribs had been well received by all, including Ralph who somehow got a bone to gnaw at, his tail wagging with pleasure and Sam trying to look innocent.

There had followed a flurry of activity which I'd avoided by staying out in the yard. Jill had run over the rules with Sam, "Listen to Uncle Paul and behave." She'd gone over the rules with me, "Behave, Paul," and wagged a threatening finger at me. "Make sure she eats properly and gets to bed on time."

"Good. They're gone!" Sam said with firmness. "Let's watch a movie!"

"Nope, clean up first," I responded, smiling at her cute frown. I checked my watch; seven-thirty. "And then a shower."

"But. . ."

"And then, after the shower, a movie." I grinned and added, "or two."

A smile appeared. I had a willing and enthusiastic helper in bringing in plates and dishes from the patio. But, when washing started, Sam took off like she was on fire. "Hey! Where're you going?"

I heard, "Shower," yelled from the hall.

With a clean kitchen I hunted through the fridge. I discovered a lovely ice-cold bottle of Robert Mondavi Fume Blanc. It was uncorked and flowing into a glass in record time.

Sam had raced to shower and change, her heart pattering. She had a crush on Uncle Paul. She'd loved him ever since she could remember. Whenever he came over she'd snuggle next to him, or climb into his lap. His smile of pleasure would make her heart skip. The way he'd hug her felt so good. And, unlike Daddy, he was kind, and cute, and handsome, and paid attention to her, not ignoring her.

Shedding clothes, Sam had turned the shower on, testing the temperature. She was excited. Three whole days with Uncle Paul! Three whole days! Tugging her panties down and tossing them on the bathroom floor, she yanked the glass shower door open, stepped in, cringed from the hot water and started washing her hair. Gotta be clean for Uncle Paul.

As she was washing her armpits, preoccupied with watching movies with Uncle Paul and staying up late, her elbow hit the glass door, magnets releasing, the door swinging open. She grabbed it and shut it, but not before Ralph charged in, tail wagging, fur slowly going glossy as the shower soaked him. Sam burst into giggles which intensified as he shook himself vigorously, his paws slipping in soapy water. He collapsed sideways with a yip and scrambled to get back on his feet.