Leprechaun Tales Ch. 02

~~~~~

Friday, during the conversations I overheard around my locker, I learned that Andy was going to be away for the weekend, that he was off to Gainesville and the university on a recruiting visit. I also heard Chrissie tell one of her friends that her parents were going to be away, leaving Saturday morning and not returning til Sunday evening.

"No, I think I'll just hang out in the backyard by the pool, I have some reading to do," I heard her say when someone asked if she wanted to go to the beach Saturday.

She was an only child, was Chrissie, and when I jumped over the gate leading into the backyard the next morning around eleven, and when I had snuck down the path and slipped into the thick foliage of the back garden, peering around the green fronds, I found her alone, lying topless by the pool, her only covering a tiny black thong that barely covered her pubic fur.

I watched spellbound for minutes, lightly stroking my penis through the thin shorts I wore. Her eyes were closed as I approached her stealthily, and I stood over her, blocking her sunlight for seconds before she finally opened her eyes.

"Ahhhh," she screamed, just seeing a male standing over her, not recognizing me as one arm rushed to her chest, trying to cover her tits, her nipples.

"Your soooo beautiful," I said reverently.

"YOU!" Chrissie shouted as she jumped to her feet, her modesty forgotten in her anger at me. "GET OUT," she ordered as she pointed towards the gate, her breasts jiggling delightfully.

Her eyes opened wide in surprise, or maybe awe, when I slipped my shorts down to my ankles, watching my still hard prick as it snapped upwards against my stomach. As I turned and dove headfirst into the pool I heard her, "you can't...don't," just before I went under.

I swam slowly back and forth, my head turned in her direction as I went lap after lap, watching her as she stood, still topless, shaking her head as she looked down towards me. She finally sat, sat down on the edge of the pool with her legs and feet dangling in the cool water.

"Hi," I said as I swam over, moving my head between her spread knees as my hands came to rest on top of her thighs.

"What do you want?" she asked but I felt the warmth, the interest in her voice.

"You," I said as I pulled her from the side of the pool and felt her slide down my body. Her lips were shy, our kisses awkward at first, but then her tongue darted hungrily into me and her arms locked around my neck.

"Ohhh Jimmy," she moaned as I moved my lips to her breast, drawing her hard nipple between my teeth. As I tasted her, licked her, sucked her, I moved my hands to her hips and quickly undid the strings holding up her thong, then cupped her little ass in my fingers and lifted her, rubbing her pussy up and down against my throbbing shaft.

I carried her up the stairs, her legs locked around my back, and then gently lowered her to the cushion lying on the grass. Kneeling between her legs I brought the big bulb of my cockhead to her gates, rubbing it up and down her already lubricated slit.

"Jimmy," she groaned as I pushed the head into her, its large diameter spreading her completely. "It's too big," she squealed as I looked up and saw her staring down, mesmerized by the spear pushing into her.

"Did you practice with it?" I asked. "With my gift, I mean." Seeing her shy nod I pushed further, deeper into her, felt her slippery, juicy insides stretch to receive me. Each stroke, each inch of deeper penetration was met by a guttural, "Uhhhhh," and then with my furious last push she screamed my name, "Jimmmmmmmmy," a scream of full acceptance.

I pulled slowly out, just leaving the head embedded, and heard her plaintive cry, "No Jimmy, leave it in," just as I drove back into her. She was so juicy; she just had one of those rare pussies that seemed to continually gush around my thrusting prick.

She was also a screamer, a yeller, a squealer whose continual grunts and yells threatened to rouse the neighborhood. I felt her orgasm start, sensed her confusion, knew she had never known these feelings when in Andy's arms. "Oh Jimmy," she wailed as my saucy cum started to spurt inside of her, flooding her channel with my seed.

I pulled out, and moving back, knelt between her knees, our juices dripping from my cock. "It's still hard," she whispered in wonderment, almost in awe that I was still ready.

"Kiss it Chrissie," I ordered as I moved up her body, and with one hand circling my prick at its base, I offered her the sticky treat.

"But I never did that with Andy," she protested as I ran the gooey head along her lips, letting her get a first taste of our mingled saps.

I fucked her again after she'd laved me, slowly working her, bringing her again and again to sexual fulfillment before I again emptied my seed in her.

She was so eager to experience everything, to learn, to feel something she'd never imagined. "Andy was never like this," she complained as we rested after a fourth coupling, "I mean we only ever did it once at a time...I mean, he never was ready again after one time."

"What? You mean you've been sleeping with him for months and only once a night? How many days a week do you fuck?"

"I don't know, maybe once every ten days. He said it was better if we didn't do it too often."

"That faggot! And you never sucked him?"

"No."

"Did he ever go down on you, eat you?"

"He said it was dirty."

Laughing, I threw her back and burrowed between her legs, quickly finding her crimson clit with my tongue. She was soon writhing and thrashing, her squeals of pleasure echoing as she came for the first time under a lapping tongue.

I stayed all day and night, as we continually explored the limits of our sexual desires, my doctored prick continually ready for every demand of the newly awakened Chrissie. The eager student even tried to swallow me, stretching her jaws painfully even to get six inches between her bulging cheeks.

And she loved the taste of my cum, again and again over the weekend she slipped a sperm covered finger between her lips, claiming that she'd never tasted Andy. I almost felt sorry for him now, but still, knew that I still was going to make him pay for the abuse he'd heaped on me for the last ten years.

~~~~~

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you fucking, retard midget, let her go! I'll kill you, you bastard," I heard screamed down the school hall as I stood entwined with Chrissie Monday morning in front of our lockers.

Every student in the vicinity were gaping as Andy rushed up and pushed me against a locker, a look of hate spread across his face. "Chrissie?" he howled in pain as he pushed me again.

"She wants a man Andy," I announced loudly, "Chrissie's tired of your baby penis, your gay friends."

"I didn't say that," started Chrissie before I interrupted her.

"She wants me Andy, not some fag," I announced to the stunned, milling crowd. "Now get lost."

For a second I saw indecision in his eyes, saw the desire to smash me down, but then he broke and as tears started to flow from his eyes, turned and fled.

"I gotta go after him," Chrissie cried but I held her, pulled her to me, mashed her lips under mine, and then told her, "Your mine now baby!" And she was all that fall...

MRS. JOANNA SIMPKINS – GUIDENCE TEACHER

I can still remember the advice Mrs. Simpkins had given to me, three long years ago at the end of my first high school guidance session, "Well Jimmy, if all else fails you can always join the circus. I understand they're always looking for midgets."

She had been Miss Boyle in those days, the dark haired daughter of a Fundamentalist Christian minister, and a recent graduate of some second rate bible college in rural Oklahoma. How she had ever convinced any school board, let alone Dade County's school board to accept her, was a mystery to any student who subsequently spent any time in her office listening to her dribble.

She was only twenty-seven years old, four years out of school, but dressed and acted like a librarian from the nineteen fifties. Even in the tropical climate of South Florida she wore long sleeved, high necked, old fashioned blouses and long, dark, heavy tweed skirts.

She piled her long, auburn colored hair on the top of her head, held up in a neat but bizarre hairdo by perhaps twenty old fashioned hair pins. She had married Reverend Simpkins about fifteen months ago, he a gangling Texan she'd met at their college in Oklahoma.

Her father, who ran a large and prosperous congregation up in Broward County, was sponsoring Simpkins, backing the younger man's satellite church in inner city Miami. Why the two newlyweds had set up in an area that was populated by Central American immigrants was a mystery, especially as neither spoke fluent Spanish.

And yet, in spite of all this, Mrs. Simpkins was a striking woman, neither her clothes, nor hair style, nor lack of make up could hide the strong, long legged, full busted girl lurking behind all her finery. And as I entered my final year I wondered if I could somehow open up this reserved churchwoman, let her finally experience what God had made her body for.

It was mid September; the start of my senior year at Miami's Washington High and not much had changed, Mrs. Simpkins was still my guidance teacher and still as stunned as ever. Over the three previous years I had learned how to handle this strange young woman. I simply moved all our conversations towards her favorite subject – Christianity – and let her talk while I nodded sagely.

"Hi Mrs. Simpkins," I said breezily as I entered her office three weeks into the new school year.

"Oh, hello James," she started hesitantly, looking down at my file, clearly confused, not recognizing me immediately, probably due to my new height. I was still short at 5'1" but after having grown 13+ inches in the last fifteen months could no longer be considered a midget. "You're taller," she finally added.

"Praise the Lord ma'am," I intoned.

"Praise the Lord," she echoed back stupidly.

"You look lovely Mrs. Simpkins; you must have had a rewarding summer. Did you and the Reverend go somewhere?"

"We went to Guatemala on a mission for six weeks," she started excitedly and I knew I'd hear all the details over the next hour.

Finally after forty-five minutes of church stories she flipped open my file and said, "You did surprisingly well on your exams last spring Jimmy, actually very well. You know, I never thought of you as a potential university student but you never know. What are your plans?"

"I'm hoping to study math, computers and science at university ma'am," I explained.

"Oh science. I don't know Jimmy. Daddy doesn't approve of a lot of these new fangled ideas. 'The work of the Devil', he says."

"But Mrs. Simpkins, what about computers? Surely you use them in your ministry?" I exploded, forgetting for a second my resolve to silently get through the hour.

"Pornography young man, just filth and works of the devil," she insisted, reddening as she spoke.

"I read something about 'Intelligent Design' on the web the other day ma'am," I told her, unable to resist tweaking the ignorant woman. "It was very interesting," I added, "I never really believed in Darwin and all that. What's your opinion of evolution?"

"Do I look like I evolved from a monkey?" she demanded. "I didn't know the proponents of 'Intelligent Design' were able to get their voice heard on that Internet thing," she said with interest in her voice.

"Oh yes Mrs. Simpkins, Christians are finally getting their voices heard out there. Its one of the reasons I want to study computers and science," I lied.

"It is?"

"Yes ma'am, I think it's important that computers serve God. We Christians have to get his ideas into the twentieth-first century."

"I don't know. The Reverend and I don't really know much about all that."

"I could show you."

"But..."

"I'll bring my laptop down after class; I'll show you some of the important Christian sites. You definitely don't want the Moslems or Jews getting ahead of you, do you? Or the Pope."

"No, no..."

"Good, I'll come back at four," I told her as I backed out of her office.

~~~~~

Of course, like almost any other subject you search the web for, millions of sites were offered when I typed in Christian and then Jesus on yahoo for the now fascinated teacher. Fuck, I thought, as I led her through a sampling of sites, a high school guidance teacher who can't operate a computer.

She smells nice though, clean and fresh I thought, as we sat facing the screen, my arm lying lightly against hers. I even tentatively put my arm on the back of her chair, her excitement making her oblivious to my thigh pressed against hers, my fingers softly caressing her shoulder.

"You must show the Reverend," she insisted, "Can you come to our home some night, explain it all, give us lessons?"

I immediately agreed, but as I went to shut down the computer, I momentarily clicked to a site that I knew showed a daily picture of a beautiful, young naked girl. She saw it; I saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes as I hit the close button, a small first step in the eventual seduction of Mrs. S.

~~~~~

Two nights later I ventured into an area of Miami called Little Panama, a small but densely populated inner city barrio that housed most of Miami's burgeoning Central American immigrant population. It was a one square mile area of small, tightly packed homes and three and four story apartment buildings, tucked between the blacks to the east in Overtown, Little Haiti to the north and the Cubans of Hialeah to the west.

It wasn't an area of the city I'd ever visit normally, but the Metrorail got me pretty close to the Simpkins house and church so that I felt my odds of surviving the trip intact were relatively good. It was a small storefront church, two rows of benches fronting the plain altar and the large cross on the wall behind.

Their house was simple, a two bedroom, one floor, cement structure that sat on a small lot behind the church. But someone, Mrs. Simpkins I guessed, had tried to brighten it up, two flower beds were planted brightly on both sides of the newly painted, bright blue front door.

He talked Texan, did the Reverend, call me Billy Joe, he insisted, and I immediately sensed the hunger that lurked just below the surface of this thin but wiry looking Pastor. It just took seconds in front of the screen for him to realize the implications, the value, of the technology I was showing him.

He had the hard stare and body of a rodeo rider and I wondered if he hadn't turned to God as an easier way to make a living than getting thrown to the hard dirt floors of small town arenas. And whether the choice of his wife hadn't been a strategic decision based on her fathers power and influence as much as her good looks.

"This can definitely help us honey," he said to his wife as he watched over her shoulder, and I knew the help he was thinking of was measured in dollars and cents and not saved souls. "You're going to have to learn everything, you'll be our expert," he ordered as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "Are you willing to teach Miriam son?" he asked me.

"Well," I hesitated.

"We can't pay you boy, we're just poor Christians," he quickly interjected.

"Well, maybe at school, at lunch or after school, I can't come way out here," I temporized. "And there are lots of computers at school of course. I'm sure Mrs. Simpkins could get the school board to buy her one..."

"Good idea son, good idea. And you can call the Missus by her name, its Miriam, when you're teaching her. That's okay isn't it hon?"

"I guess," his wife stammered, not completely sure she wanted to get involved in all this computer stuff.

I finally escaped around ten after we agreed to start Miriam's lessons the next week. Mom was asleep when I got home, so I just slipped under the sheet and curled against her without waking her; just happy I'd survived my visit deep into the barrio.

~~~~~

"You need your own website Miriam, that's our first order of business," I explained as we sat side by side in her office after school ended the next Tuesday.

"A what?"

She turned out not to be as stupid as she had always seemed, and when faced with a specific task that interested her, was quite capable of working in an organized and diligent manner. That first afternoon, with my leg pressed against hers, with our heads just inches apart, I awakened her interest in the possibilities of the technology.

I led her to home page after home page of various Christian churches, finally eliciting a forceful, "We need one of those, I don't know why Daddy doesn't have one."

My comment of, "I bet he'll be pretty proud of you if you can get one up and running," was all I needed to say to set her going.

I slowly explained what was required, what jobs we'd have to do...

~~~~~

Two days later we met again, this time at noon, as we both had a free period after lunch and so had two hours to work. As I became more comfortable with her I started to probe the defenses of the young bride.

"You and the reverend don't want to have babies Miriam?" I asked innocently after a half hour of work.

"What...what did you say?" she demanded, startled away from the flickering screen.

"Well, I don't know...you've been married quite a while...I thought maybe it was against your beliefs or something..." I stammered.

"We're Christians Jimmy, not some weirdos, of course we want children."

"Oh good, I thought maybe...you know...maybe you didn't believe in sex or something," I said, purposely blushing.

After we had worked silently for a few minutes Mrs. S whispered without looking at me, "We're trying Jimmy...just so far, no...no luck."

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am, I'm sure you'll get pregnant soon...God willing."

After another half hour of hard work, our legs almost stuck together the whole time, I asked, "What do you and the Reverend think of premarital sex Miriam?"

"It's evil Jimmy, the work of the devil! What kind of question is that anyway?"

"Well, I just wonder what you tell all the young teens who come to your Sunday school. I mean, it's everywhere. Topless girls at the beach, sex on the internet," I said as I clicked on a site that featured explicit pictures of couples making love. "Gee, everyone here at Washington High does it," I added.

"It's disgusting," she stammered as her eyes followed the parade of pictures that flickered continuously across the screen. "I'm sure not everyone does it, surely you haven't," she finished, not taking her eyes from the monitor. Finally after getting no response for second after second, she turned and looked into my eyes, "You haven't, have you?"

"I have, yes ma'am."

"Ooooh Jimmy, that's terrible. With who"

"A few..."

"What? More than one? That's awful. The poor girls!"

"But it feels so good Miriam," I said quietly. "I mean, when you put it in and it feels so good...gosh, look at those two," I said pointing to the screen. "Didn't you do it when you were in high school Miriam?" I asked as I lightly traced my finger over her neck.

"No, of course not. I was home schooled Jimmy, Daddy didn't let me date in high school. And at Stillwater Bible College there was no kissing let alone..."

"But...you like it now, don't you?"

"We're married Jimmy. Now let's stop all this tomfoolery and get back to work," she ordered.

When our time ran out she suggested another two hour session Friday but I started to decline, saying, "I always go to the beach on Fridays Miriam, I've got a three hour gap, eleven til two."

"This is God's work Jimmy," she bristled.

"Well...well come to the beach with me then, I'll bring my laptop...bring a bathing suit."

"The beach! I never go to the beach," she answered shrilly.