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"Well, you could wish for the lift to be fixed," West said. "But that seems a waste of your only wish. And besides, I'd need something with much more potential that just fixing the elevator once. Heaven knows, it might break again tomorrow."
"You can't really grant wishes! That's stupid."
"Have it your way, Faith. But it surely wouldn't hurt to try. Just imagine if the elevator was always there to take you up and down, up and down, your very own vertical chariot. But there would be a price to pay - you probably couldn't or wouldn't want to pay it."
"My daddy will pay! My daddy has lots of money!"
"Oh, really? Isn't that nice. But, really, my dear, you should let me explain how..."
"No! I want the elevator to work now!" Faith abruptly interrupted her elder. "Whatever it costs, I wish the elevator will always work for me!"
Professor West, who didn't appear to be too disturbed by the rudeness of the pretty ten-year-old, smiled broadly. "Quite a lovely wish, Faith! I hope you enjoy it as much as everyone else in the building will. But, my dear, what are you waiting for?"
Faith drew herself up to her full four foot four inches and looked at the old man sternly, past the end of her cute little pointed nose. How dare he talk to her like that? She was done with this silliness! She stomped her small foot one more time and spun to march away from him, her long gorgeous hair flying around her again, only to find that the elevator doors were standing open and Mr. Jackson from the third floor was stepping out. What in the world?! Faith turned again to glare at Professor West, but when she did, no one was there. It was all very confusing.
There was nothing for it but to get on the elevator and press the button for the fourth floor. The doors were half closed when a hand reached in and stopped them, and then a gentleman in his late fifties or early sixties stepped into the elevator with Faith. She recognized him, although she hadn't met him and she thought he lived up on the eighth floor, which was confirmed when he pushed that button. Faith noticed that the light for the fourth floor was not illuminated, but she knew she'd pushed it, so she didn't worry about it too much.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, Faith set her backpack on the ground and then reached under her short school skirt to pull down her panties and step out of them. She couldn't understand why she was doing something so strange, but she couldn't seem to stop, either. And once she'd managed to push them down over her white ankle socks, and step her little black shoes out of the leg holes, she looked up to see the man watching her with an expectant air. Faith could feel herself blush, and she knew that the man would see it. Faith's pale complexion and the pretty freckles sprinkled across her young face made it very obvious whenever she blushed, and she knew and hated it.
Faith glanced at the floor indicator. The lift seemed to be moving far too slowly! They'd barely made it to the first floor. And why was she unbuttoning her blouse? She'd already pulled her tie loose and dropped it to the ground and she was already half way done with her buttons! Why couldn't she stop? Oh god, no! He's staring at me, smiling. No, no, no! But Faith pulled the short tails of her blouse from her skirt and opened it wide, revealing her cute, flat breasts to the ogling passenger. Another glance at the floor indicator and she saw they'd only gotten as far as the second floor!
To Faith's horror, the older man faced her and quickly opened his belt and the top button of his slacks. The little girl took a startled step backwards, but the man stepped forward even as he unzipped his fly. Faith backed into the corner of the elevator and had nowhere to go. Since her blouse was now on the floor, the wall was cold on her bare back and shoulders.
"Well? Don't just stand there," the man said impatiently.
Oh god, oh god, no! Faith's mind was reeling. She decided to scream as loud as she could! And she would dash for the door the second the elevator opened on her floor. She had to get out of here! But what Faith actually did was to drop to her knees in front of the old man, then reach out to awkwardly pull his boxer shorts down to his knees, where he'd already dropped his pants. Noooooo! she wanted to scream. But instead she took the terrifying piece of flesh that dangled between his legs into her petite, soft hands and gently massaged it as it quickly grew in length, width and firmness.
"Oh my god, yes! That's so good!" the man moaned. "Get my cock nice and hard first. Oh!"
Faith Rowel had never seen a man's genitals; she'd never heard the word cock. Suddenly she was holding one in her hands, just inches from her pretty, freckled face! She knew this was a bad, bad, bad, bad thing to be doing, but she couldn't stop. With every ounce of her being she tried to let go of the cock. She tried to jump and push the man away. She tried to cover her face and scream and cry. But instead she just kept playing with the pole of flesh, smoothly stroking her hands up and down until, with a growing horror, she understood that the cock was ready. What it was ready for, she had no idea.
"Better hurry up," the old man said, "we're already up to the fourth floor. Get those pretty little lips busy, child."
The fourth floor - Faith's floor! Yes, yes, she could escape. The doors would open and she would... No, no, no. The lift didn't stop! I pushed the button, I pushed the button! Please stop! Please. Oh god, no!
Despair flooded little Faith's body and still she held the wretched long, hard cock in her hands. Her hands looked so tiny around the monster. But Faith pulled herself together. She grabbed every bit of her willpower, channeling it all into her hands and she let it go! But her hands were still wrapped around the throbbing piece of meat. Nooooooooo!
Faith felt herself leaning forward, rising up with her legs to get to the right height. No, no, no, no, please! But her lips met the end of the man's erection and she heard him gasp with pleasure. She strained her eyes up into his, knowing that this was what he would want - to see her face and know her humiliation through the incredible blush that covered her as she opened her lips and slid the head of his manhood into her little mouth. The smug look of satisfaction and the excitement in his eyes told Faith everything.
The ten-year-old had no idea what she was doing, what she was supposed to do. But her hands seemed to know - they stroked and stroked at his cock, picking up speed with some of the lubricating saliva from her own mouth. Her tongue seemed to know as well - it flicked and rolled about the bulbous blob in her mouth, making the man's eyes flare with desire. Her lips and her mouth and her muscles all knew the drill as well, working to pull more of the evil cock into her mouth, sucking and pulling at it until she was nearly gagging. And poor little Faith's head knew exactly how to please the man. Her head bobbed forward and back and forward and back, faster and faster as she sucked at the monster of flesh.
"Oh god, yes, yes, child, ohhh," the old man groaned. He pushed his fingers into the long red hair on either side of Faith's head and began to thrust forward, fucking her mouth. "Oh god, you're so good at that. Yes!"
Faith was certain she was going to faint or choke to death any second. The man was pressing against her throat, threatening to push his too-big erection into her wind pipe. But she managed to pull her head back just enough and she kept up her sucking and licking and her wet little hands stroked up and down his shaft as fast she could manage.
Just past the man's torso, Faith could see the floor indicator. Why were they moving so slowly! They were just passing the sixth floor. Why couldn't she stop sucking so hard at the man's erection? Why did she have to keep rubbing it with her hand. Why was she using her other hand to play with the bags of flesh at the base of his cock? It was all so disgusting and scary and, and, and wrong!
"Oh god, yes, yes, yes, oh fuck, ohhh, ohhh, I can't hold it any... OHHHH! OHHHH!"
Something hot and thick, slimy and oily, like Faith imagined egg whites would feel, flooded Faith's mouth. Then more, and more. She nearly choked on it before the man would let go of her head and let her rear back. She was rewarded with another big spout of the warm, viscous liquid across her face.
Faith thought the terrible ejaculate in her mouth was the most horrifying, disgusting thing that could possibly exist! She couldn't stand it! It coated her mouth with a cloying, pervasive taste - not bitter or even strong - but wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. A little girl wasn't supposed to know what this tasted like. She couldn't possibly hold it in her mouth for a second longer. She parted her lips to spit the nasty, nasty stuff out as fast as she could.
But instead, pretty Faith looked up into the eyes of the smug old man and showed him how much of his evil cum she'd collected in her mouth. With a finger, he scooped the errant slick of his cum from her cheek and her little nose, and pushed it into her mouth to add to the pool of off-white goo. As soon as she could see that he was satisfied, Faith closed her mouth and carefully swallowed every drop of the warm goo. Every part of her brain screamed no, but the terrible, pungent cum left a trail of oily residue all the way down her throat.
As the man zipped up his pants and fastened his belt, the elevator pinged for the eighth floor. Little Faith rocked back on her heels in complete disbelief of what she'd done.
"Here you are dear, I do hope to see you again soon," the man said.
Faith blinked and looked back up to the older gentleman, who had his hand out with a ten dollar bill. She didn't want his money! She didn't want to EVER see him again! But she watched in horror as her little hand reached up to take the money, only to see the look on the man's mean face get even smugger.
"Yes, yes, pleasure doing business with you dear. The name's Clint, Clint Fitser. Wouldn't mind hearing you moan my name next time, little one, if you know what I mean." The doors to the elevator opened and the man stepped out with a jaunty bounce to his step. Faith leaned against the door, panting, until the doors slid shut.

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He left my playground and moved back up to my cock and popped the head in his mouth. He bobbed up and down as much as he could and worked his tongue around the crown and ridge and sticking it into my cumhole. He moved his position to in between my legs so his tongue could work the underside the full time. vk mom incest family taboo 2 family incest online video 3d porn father and daughter real sex russian young ass porn free young teen lesbian sex teen sister porno

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Flip flops, shorts and tees were what we four were wearing. It was that sort of day. My mom, when she brought out a couple of plates of snacks, was wearing a free flowing white summer dress and sandals. None of us paid particular attention to her when she came out laden with the snacks that went with our beer. She was my mom and the three guys were around my home enough to know her and give her the respect of being my mom. My mom didn't mind our drinking, if it was in the back yard and no one was going to drive. As we all lived a short distance from each other, that was never an option. Her and I lived alone, dad was a distant memory for both of us and there was never any longing from me to see his shadow move across our doorway. She was Philippa and I was Ian. She worked in middle level downtown corporate, was in her early 40's, just a little shorter than my 5'11", light auburn hair cropped to mid neck, with bright green eyes that dominated her soft and attractive face. About a size 12, she dressed well and smart during the week, relaxed on weekends. She never showed great interest in dating, although there were a few work-oriented outings and receptions where she enjoyed male company. Nothing serious ever developed to my knowledge and most weekend she was around the house or at her gym, which kept her toned. She always happy to see my buddies. After a few hours, the guys headed for their respective homes and I chilled out on a comfortable outdoor chair with a beer in my hand. As they left they yelled goodbyes to mom in the direction of the kitchen window and disappeared around the side of the house. It was quiet and getting hotter and I had no real inclination to move. "I'm just getting changed," I head mom call out from the kitchen, "and while I'm doing that you can bring in your empty bottles and plates." It was the last thing I felt like doing but mom being mom I knew I'd better. I waited a bit but then I pushed up from the chair, gather some empties and plates and wandered towards the kitchen. Plates went into the dishwasher and empties to the recycling. I was bent over dumping the empties when she came back in. It took a couple of seconds to realize that the flowing white dress with the big yellow flowers had been replaced by pink shorts and a tee. On her feet were two inch heeled plastic sandals. Relaxed by the beer I saw the shorts were a little tight and showed off her ass in a way I'd never noticed before. Perfectly shaped and peach-like, outlined by the tiny panties that were obvious, with the zipper at the back highlighting and accentuating the hint of a valley between her two cheeks. The white tee was stretched tight across her smallish breasts, again highlighting femininity. She was obviously bra less and I'd never looked at my Mom or noticed her in this way in the past. Sure, on some mornings I'd seen her in a petticoat over her bra, panties and stockings before she slipped on a skirt, blouse and jacket as she got ready for work. That had never made a real impact but today she did. What I'd seen on those previous mornings left me oblivious because the self-centered arrogance of youth precluded acknowledgment of any physical or sexual attributes of a parent. She was my Mom and that was that. But in the kitchen on that hot summer Saturday there was a difference. In front of me was an attractive woman, dressed to show herself to perfection with more than just a little erotic hint. "Ian," she said looking up from the sink directly at me, "would you do me a favor?" "Sure. What?" "When your friends are over, ask them to use the bathroom." "What do you mean?" "You know exactly what I mean. If they want to go to the bathroom then that's where they can go and not on the edge of the lemon tree." "Oh," I said. "You saw?" "I glanced out the kitchen window a couple of time and," she stopped and paused a few seconds. "What else could I see but them." "You glanced?" I said feigning surprise, "you were watching" "No," she replied quickly, "I was not watching. I just glanced out a couple of times." Seeing attack was the best defense, I quickly same back: "You were watching." The emphasis on the 'were'. "Did you have a good look?" I added with a bit of sarcasm, which she ignored. Closing off the conversation from her point of view she quipped: "Just get them to use the bathroom." I laughed and repeated: "You were watching." She gave up a turned back to the sink giving me a perfect view of the tight shorts covering her ass. The distinct panty line showed that beneath the shorts was something skimpy. I took in the view, enjoying the tight pink shorts and imagining what was underneath them. I'd never looked at her like that before and it was a strange feeling. "Anyhow," I said not wanting to dismiss the idea that she'd been watching all of us as we went around the lemon tree, "Jimmy says it's good for the tree, adds acid to the soil." "Jimmy," she said turning around, her hands on her hips and the tee shirt hugging her tits, showing that while they might be small they were firm and looked good. "Well, you'd expect Jimmy to say that. He's always got an angle." By now we were both laughing and I relaxed knowing that she was not about to throw drama about where we had pissed. She seemed more playful than usual, perhaps even a little coquettish, something I'd not seen before. "But I think," she added, unable to give away making her point, "you'd better get the hose out." There was a smile more like a smirk when she finished her point with: "You can dilute some of that acid. Too much and you might kill the tree." With nothing left to banter, I nodded. But before I did go outside, I slipped into my bedroom and, on some inexplicable impulse, I took off both my shorts and boxers and only put my shorts back on. That my cock was almost free of restraint was both sensual and erotic. I didn't know why I did it but I just did. It may have been the effects of the beer or the sun or maybe I just wanted to feel the unrestrained freedom. After that I went outside to grab the hose and do what she'd asked. I was liberally hosing around the edge of the lemon tree when she came out of the house and, in another surprise, she grabbed one of the remaining bottles of beer out of the ice box. Twisting off the top she settled into one of the chairs and sipped the beer as she watched me. "You know," she said, resting the cold bottle on her thigh, "when I was a kid we used to play under the hose on hot days. It was the only way to keep cool." "You used to hose me when I was younger," I replied. "I remember that. Also, running under the sprinkler." "Better than a swimming pool," she said, "although we were never able to afford a pool." Holding the hose where the water was coming out in a soft spray I looked at her and smiled. "What?" she asked. "Stand up," I suggested. "Why?" "Because I want to relive a bit of my younger days and yours." She looked at me a little quizzically and then she did stand up and towards where I was standing, the beer in her hand by her side. Without waiting I turned the hose on her, spraying, at first, from her waist down. She squealed, jumped up and down and turned around. The spray raked across the back of her shorts. Her shorts were wet and clinging as she turned around. "You monster," she said, smiling. "It'll cool you down," I answered back quickly. She laughed as the spray played across her feet. I then raised the hose so that her tee shirt experienced the soft spray, dampening down the cotton. She did a full circle and then faced me. The wet tee shirt not only showed clearly the outline of her tits but the hard points of her nipples, which jutting out, dark against the white cotton. The wet pink shorts clung to her almost like spandex, showing the outline of her panties. The sight was totally erotic and my cock began to respond. She was arousing me. "It does feel cool," she said, looking directly at me. "At least, and for this you're lucky, you didn't wet my hair. If you had, you'd be in real trouble.