He saw the brown-haired girl sitting at the front. She was the only girl in the room wearing shorts, and her legs were perfect. Her skin appeared so soft and smooth that he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the long shining limbs of perfection. She had on a blue sweater above it, a sweater with a gold zipper drawing a beeline to her bright red lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss those bright red lips, gaze into those shining blue eyes, stroke those legs, caress that delightfully slim waist.
She was the last in the circle of food bank volunteers, and it was her turn to introduce herself at the orientation meeting. "My name is Jen," she said in a sweet, sincere voice, "and I'm a senior at Connolly High. I'm here 'cause I want to help those less well off than me. Also, my school has a community service requirement to graduate..." He didn't pay as much attention to her actual words, listening more to the sound of her voice quivering with the nervousness that comes from addressing a group of two dozen strangers, but it charmed him with its cuteness. She was such a sweet little thing.
He himself had told his particulars to the group a few minutes before; his name was Mark, he was thirty-nine years old, unmarried, had volunteered at the food bank because he felt it was his civic duty. Actually, he was there because he couldn't endure the empty silences in his apartment, but that didn't seem like a good thing to tell everyone.
Jen finished and sat down. The group leader started to drone on, but Mark was no longer listening. He was thinking of the beautiful girl opposite him, her simple, yet tantalizing shape and demeanor. She looked so precious, and yet so luscious. He wanted to pinch her cheek. Or kiss her cheek. Or kiss her lips.
His mind began to wander. He imagined her lips melting against his, his tongue probing greedily into her mouth. He thought of her chest pressed against his, her breathing starting to quicken. He wondered what it would be like to lower the zipper of those jeans, to see her waist wiggle as it slid off.
I want her, Mark thought. I want to see what she looks like naked, lick my chops at her perfect pussy, stick my dick deep inside her and shoot off my load. She can't be more than eighteen years old. Dammit! What could she see in a man like me, twice her age?
That night, Mark couldn't get Jen out of his mind. He lay in bed, thinking about those legs, those sinuous legs, those legs that seemed to be made from a material that transcended the world and took him somewhere far away. His penis hardened into erection, oozing precum, by the sheer power of the memory of her face, her body. The way she stood, the way her legs shone in the light as everyone had walked to the parking lot on the way out. He lay there, his penis jerking, until he could endure no more, and masturbated himself to climax, wishing all the while that it was her hand on his penis instead of his own.
"We'll put you in teams of two, one for each set of boxes, okay? Taylor, you go with James. Steve, you're with Penny. Jen, you'll sort with Mark."
"Jen, you'll sort with Mark!" Mark nearly jumped out of his chair. For an entire afternoon, he would be sorting donated food across the table from a girl whose image he had masturbated to every night for a week.
He was actually trembling when he got to his spot, but Jen wasn't there. Typical, she probably wants to hang with some handsome guy instead of me, he thought gloomily. With a sigh, he set about the work of sorting the huge pile of cans, jars, and boxes all by himself.
Then he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Hi, Mark!"
There she was: the bright red lips, the pretty blue eyes, the smooth long brown hair. She was smiling at him. She was quite short, several inches shorter than he, but he still felt very small in her sensuous presence. He could only gape, not just at her, but at her outfit. She had on a plain white top and a very short skirt. 'Connolly High School', it read in bright red letters. "Sorry I'm late," he could hear her saying, "but I had to go to cheerleading practice after school."
He nodded, gesturing towards the cans, "R-right over there...you can do th-that side," he sputtered. She giggled and got to work.
Mark could feel his heart racing. Years before, when he had been in high school, his dreams had been filled with the image of cheerleaders with their warm smiles and flitting short skirts. He remembered how they would jump up, often showing their panties, at the victories of the football team. Mark had not been on the football team. He was captain of the debating team and had won prizes at math contests, but cheerleaders never went to that kind of event. He had always longed for the touch of their soft nubile bodies...
"So tell me about yourself, Mark!"
She was talking to him! He stared back at her, never hard to do with a pretty teenager in a cheerleader's uniform. He tried to look into her eyes as he answered, but some mystical force sent his eyes back down to her bare, smooth legs.
"I'm...I'm an eng-engineer."
"An engineer? That's so cool! You must be really smart!"
He blushed.
"So what kind of engineering do you do?"
"Um...I...um...well...I do dig...digital imaging. Scanners and graphics and stuff." He had given entire presentations on this topic elsewhere, but with this little girl, it was all he could do to blurt out a sentence. She grinned at him, almost as if to reassure.
"So you're like, into photography and stuff like that?"
"Y-yes. I do a lot of that work...I have a portfolio, in fact."
"You do? I'd love to see it sometime! I love photography!"
"Th-that's great!"
"Do you think you could give me some tips?"
This...this sweet little delight was interested in him? Nonsense, he thought, you're just a mentor figure to her. She's probably thinking of you just like one of her teachers at school. At that thought, he couldn't help looking at her shapely legs again, and wished with all his heart that he was a teacher and could spend half his day looking at pretty girls.
She continued chatting with him as they sorted, and gradually he trembled less, relaxed, and grew more comfortable. She had such a sweet smile, and a delightful, almost angelic face. His eyes roved over her body constantly as they talked and sorted. Seeing that short little skirt, barely covering her underpants, he wondered at what delights lay underneath. What would it be like to lift that skirt up, to pull those panties down, to fondle the ass and pussy that lay hidden inside it?
On the way out after the work was done, Mark's mind was filled with thoughts of that luscious teenage body. Have to get her out of my head, he thought and pulled out his phone. His bookmark collection had all the right links. One website was headlined by a brown-haired girl, with a caption brashly reading: "SPURT YOUR JISM IN MY MOUTH!" She looked a little like Jen, though not quite as pretty. He scrolled through the site. There were the usual pictures of naked women, women spreading their vagina lips wide, women's mouths hovering over a penis, women's lips touching another woman's lips. He thought of Jen doing all those things, and the telltale bulge began to surge in his pants.
"Hi, Mark!"
He looked down. It was Jen! He turned beet red, teeth actually chattering. She had caught him looking at porn! Surely she'll think I'm a pervert now.
He gingerly started to put the phone away, but she was all smiles. "You don't have to put it away."
"I'm sorry...I...What?"
"I love those sites! In fact, can I tell you a secret?"
"Okay."
"Let me whisper it in your ear."
He bent down and her lips grazed his ear. He felt a tingle run through him as he felt her breath, but that paled into comparison to what he felt next. "I want to have my own website like that!"
Mark's jaw dropped and he stared at her, no longer attempting to hide the lust in his eyes. She grinned impishly. "When you said you were into photography, I even hoped you might take some pictures of me!"
His eyes widened. He could not seem to get any words out.
Finally, as if in a dream, he heard his mouth uttering the words..."I would be glad to...you must come to my studio sometime."
"Okay." She smiled. "Where is it?"
"Um...the corner of Gilmore and Anderson."
"Okay," she said. "Could we make it this Saturday?"
This Saturday. Five days! "S-sure. What, um, what time do you think--"
"How about three?"
"Three, three...yes, of course. Three's fine."
"So we'll see you then!" She started to head out, but turned around and called out, "Enjoy your sites!" with a wicked, knowing grin. Mark felt his face turning red, but he also felt his erection rising.
The next five days seemed to last forever. At night, lying in bed, Mark let his imagination run wild, dreaming of Jen's seductive body, fantasizing about having her, drinking in her lush youthfulness. Every night the picture of Jen drove his dick to throbbing ecstasy, and every night he exploded into his hands and sheets, wishing only that it was her soft flesh that was receiving his cum.
Three o'clock on Saturday came. Mark had already been there over two hours, straightening everything out, making everything as spotless and organized as it had ever been. I'm still trying to impress the girls, he thought, still, at my age. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Jen! He rushed upstairs.
There she was, in front of the door. She was wearing a white halter top and a white skirt, a very short skirt that seemed to cover very little. He gaped at her navel, round and inviting. He gawked at her curvaceous waist, which seemed almost designed to lock his eyes onto them like a homing beacon.
Wordless, he motioned her inside and down the stairs to the studio. She playfully danced down them as he trudged behind her, almost like a priest following his goddess. She was such a pretty, cheerful girl!
He got out his camera, and they went to work. As a model, she was a photographer's dream: eager to perform, thinking of the next pose almost as soon as the shutter clicked, hardly needing any prompting or correction.
Jen standing in front of one of his backgrounds, grinning. Snap. She puts her leg on a stool, giving the camera a straight view of her panties. Snap. Teasingly, she begins to lift her skirt up. Snap. She starts to slide out of her uniform. Snap.
And then she was standing there in her underwear, and Mark's cock was as hard as a rock. He had never in his life seen a pretty teenage girl wearing so little. He stared at her, her delightfully curved waist, the luscious breasts under her bra, the inviting V-shape of her panties. She looked at the wet spot on his crotch and giggled. "You know what they say," she said, "when you've got the asses, show the masses!" She turned around and bent over, flaunting her half-covered ass in his face.
He took a picture of that and many other things. She lay down coyly, leering at the camera. She knelt on the floor, tugging at the underwear. She stood plainly, smiling, as her nearly nude image was recorded.
They had already taken dozens of shots, but she said, "Now comes the fun part."
"The-- fun part?"
"Yep." With a quick motion, she peeled off her underwear, and stood there, as naked as the day she was born. Mark's eyes bulged. Her pubic hair was also dark brown, straight and smooth, as fine as a lion's mane. He could see the small outline of her pussy lips, luring him into their delights.
"I want you to take pictures of me nude."
He stared. "Nude?"
"Yup. I'm gonna sell them on the Net. Lots of guys who visit my website ask for nude pictures of me, and I figure that now that I'm eighteen, I can give them what they want, and make some money doing it."
Mark felt himself starting to shake. She knelt down and spread her legs wide, grinning at him. "Does this turn you on?" she asked.