Date: Wed, 29 Jul 2015 10:50:03 -0700
From: Carole Unwin <csunwin@yandex.com>
Subject: FLASHING MY FANNY 1

FLASHING MY FANNY 1
by cs.unwin

Warning: This story contains adult content. If such material offends you or
if you are under 21 please stop reading.

Author's Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be
downloaded for personal reading, pleasure, or sending to a friend, but if
you wish to re-post them on your own site, please contact the author for
permission. Copyright 2015 cs.unwin, All rights reserved.

Please email if you have any suggestions or comments: csunwin@yandex.com

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-----

I really like the Starbucks on Charing Cross Road in London. The coffee
shop is my favourite because it's always busy and has plenty of comfortable
armchairs and sofas arranged in no particular order. Here it's easy for me
to get older women to peek up my skirt and see my bare fanny, without
anyone else noticing.

I'm Zoe, and I'm 13. flashing my fanny to older women is what I like to do
after school and in my spare time. It's my hobby LOL!

It's a late November afternoon and it's raining. A dreary drizzle is
pelting the dingy side-walks. Workers are beginning to rush home with
umbrellas and raincoats at the ready; some are holding newspapers over
their heads to keep dry. Most are heading for the nearby Tottenham Court
Road Tube Station. Today Starbucks is mostly full of LSE (London School of
Economics) students and oriental tourists, Chinese or Japanese, I can't
never really tell the difference.

I'm sitting alone pretending to work on my iPad. I'm wearing my school
uniform which is a white shirt, school jumper, plaid skirt and knee
socks. School regulations state that the hem of my skirt must touch my
knees; but by pulling my skirt up at the top and fastening it with a bobby
pin, I can turn it into a mini skirt. My knickers are tucked away in my
school bag.

I am bored because I have been here for ages and I haven't met `the
one'. Just as I am about to leave, I see her walk through the door: 40ish,
slightly overweight and with really nice knockers. She is well dressed and
I can tell she has been shopping on Oxford Street. `The one' orders a mocha
frappuccino to stay and plumps herself down on the armchair directly
opposite to mine, shopping bags scattering on the floor at her feet. I look
at her, give her my best shy smile, and go back to reading my iPad.

It's now time for me to get to work. I pretend to be completely absorbed in
what's on my screen and squirm around in my seat like I am concentrating
too hard to pay attention. My legs drift apart, then back together again;
and then they drift apart again, only wider. I try to imagine what I look
like to her: pretty young schoolgirl, brunette, slightly built with only a
hint of boobs, and a totally hairless fanny smiling at her sideways, the
way bare fannies always do.

I am sitting in such a way that I can peek over the top of my iPad without
being noticed. Goody! I can tell she has seen my naked young slit! She
pretends to be looking around the room but her gaze always returns to my
little bare twat. She crosses and re-crosses her legs; that's a really good
sign, and it means she's getting hot and bothered. I watch her face; she is
not especially pretty but has nice skin and strong features. She looks a
bit insecure and self-conscious, and I like that in the old ladies I
pull. Her forehead is wrinkled as if she is thinking hard or trying to make
a decision. I wait patiently and let my legs fall open again.

I know I am getting randy because its getting slippery down there; I can
feel my lips slide against each other when move my legs together. Not
squishy yet, but definitely slippery. I'm thinking about my fanny and I
barely notice that the bloke in the seat next to mine has left. I now see
`the one' get up from her seat and walk towards the door. Is she planning
to leave? No, she has moved to the queue at the counter but keeps looking
back in my direction. She orders another cup and walks back towards
me. Brilliant! She has taken the seat next to mine.

This is where I start to get anxious. I'm only 13, and even though I have
been around the block a few times, this part always frightens me a
little. I have also definitely gone from slippery to squishy.

"I know what you are doing, you little tart," 'the one' says to me leaning
close so no one else can hear.

I catch her scent over the smell of the coffee. Good perfume but definitely
an old lady smell; I like it. I don't smell cigarettes on her which is
good. Smoking is gross.

"Yes Miss," I reply. "If you say so Miss." I lean over and give her the
most innocent smile I can manage.

We are sitting close enough that my knee touches her thigh briefly. It
looks like she is still trying to make up her mind; her forehead is still
wrinkled.

"You have a very lovely pussy dear," she says, "I have been admiring it for
the last half hour. My name is Carol."

"My name is Zoe. I am ever so very pleased to meet you Carol," I say to her
in my sweetest polite voice, and I hold out my hand to her. "I am ever so
glad that you like it!" I say with a big toothsome grin.

I can see her face relax, her wrinkles disappear. I am not anxious any
more. `Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner!'

Carol leans over and whispers in my ear: "I'd love to lick that little
pussy of yours."

I answer her in my best Sloan Square accent: "Oh yes, that would be
lovely!"

"Come to my flat for a cup of tea," she says to me and gives me a very
broad wink. I wink back at her.

We leave together and Carol tries to hail a taxi, but owing to the rain and
because it's rush hour she doesn't stand a chance. We end up having to take
the Tube, which is annoying because it means we have to change trains
twice. I text my Mum to tell her I am having supper at a friends. I show
the text to Carol and she becomes a bit twitchy. Whether it's because she
suddenly realises I have a mother, or because she is simply eager to shag
me, I can't really tell.

At last we arrive at her place. Carol lives in a rather expensive modern
looking two bedroom flat south of the river near Blackfriars Bridge. As
soon as we are inside the door Carol gets on her knees, pulls my skirt up
and buries her face between my legs. She breathes in deeply through her
nose, inhaling my smell. Old women often do that when they want to shag
me. I have noticed older pussies smell different from young ones. They
taste different too. I think it may be because old women drink too much and
eat spicy food.

I am pretty squishy at this point and when I feel Carol's hot wet tongue
wiggling to get inside my cunt lips, I go weak at the knees. I am also
desperate to wee; and I have been since we left Starbucks. I tell Carol
this and she gets up and points to the loo.

"Would you like to watch me while I go?" I ask her.

Carol practically drags me into the toilet. I put my bum on the seat and
open my legs wide so that Carol can see everything and I immediately start
to gush a solid stream of wee. The air in the toilet is thick with the
strong smell, but Carol does not seem to mind. When I have squirted my last
few drops, she says:

"Let me lick you clean Zoe." And she does.

I hold the toilet seat for support as Carol lifts my legs over her
shoulders. My hairless little fanny is wide open and Carol licks every
inch, including my arsehole. She circles my clit and flicks it with the tip
of her tongue. She is really brilliant; just when I think I am about to
have a massive cum, she pushes her finger deep inside me. It slides in like
it has been sucked by a vacuum; I have been ready for her and squishy for
ages. When I think it couldn't get any better Carol pushes a long finger
right up my arsehole. Then I have a cum, a rather serious one.

While I'm sitting on the toilet twitching, Carol lifts me up; not difficult
for her. I'm only six and a half stone (that's 90lbs in America) and she
carries me into her very feminine bedroom. There's no sign of a `Mr. Carol'
anywhere. She places me on her queen size bed and undresses me faster than
I could undress myself. Carol takes a moment to stare at my naked 13 year
old body.

"I adore your little boobs," she says. "They are really cute, especially
when your nipples stick out like that."

"Thank you Carol," I say, and do my best Kate Moss impression by pushing
out my little boobs, and throwing back my head.

"Would you like some more of this?" I ask her, lifting my leg up to my ear
in a ballet stretch. My vag is wide open and I am showing Carol all my pink
bits.

"Yes, she says, but I think Auntie Carol needs loving now."

Carol undresses very quickly, throwing her clothes in a heap on the
floor. Her boobs, out of their bra, don't push out any more; her middle age
knockers sag and are covered with blue veins. But her nips are something
else; huge, long, and puffy! I have never seen such colossal nipples on a
woman before. Her bush is dark, wild and pretty tangled, like a garden that
hasn't been tended in a long time.

Carol jumps into bed with me. We fondle each other for a bit and I suck on
both her nipples. My hand rubs her hairy cunt and Carol fingers my hairless
twat again. She tries to French-kiss me but it's not my favourite; I'm not
that fond of swopping spit with old ladies. I avoid it by crawling between
her legs to discover what her cunt tastes like. It's not bad for an old
lady's cunt, but too hairy; a couple of hairs get caught in my throat and
make me choke.

She implores me me to finger her. I am able to push all my fingers inside
her; she really has a massive old cunt and it's sopping wet. I add my thumb
to the four fingers, then put my whole fist inside and hammer her. Carole
has a massively huge orgasm and shouts so loudly I think the neighbours
will hear her. She also gushes her slime all over the place and the
bedspread is sopping wet under her bum.

We catch some breath before we resume our shagging; Carol cuddles me and I
suck on her massive nips. All of a sudden we hear the door unlock and a
voice calling out:

"Mum, I am home! Are you there?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Carole wails. "It's Melanie, home early from her
Dad's. Quick get dressed, and for God sake brush your hair."

Carol is dressed and out the door faster than I am. When I have finished
running a brush through my hair I go to the living room and there meet a
small, black haired, almost oriental looking girl. I think she is very
pretty; she looks a couple of years younger me.

"Zoe, this is Melanie, my daughter. Her Dad's Chinese," she adds as if she
needs to explain why the two look so different.

"Zoe is visiting because her Mum asked me to help her with homework," Carol
explains.

I think it's a pretty lame excuse and so does Melanie who gives her mother
a sceptical look, but doesn't say anything. She shrugs and wanders into the
kitchen to look for a snack.

"I need to go to the loo Zoe, then I'll take you downstairs to find a taxi
to take you home."

While Carol is in the loo having a wee and freshening her make-up (old
ladies do that a lot) I ask her daughter:

"How old are you Melanie?"

"I'm 11," she says. "You can call me Mel, all my friends do."

"Really? You look a lot older," I say, flattering her. "I'm 13. Want to
hang out some time?"

"Sure," she says.

"What's your mobile number," I ask her.

She gives me her number and I put it in my own mobile. Carol comes out of
the loo, face freshly painted, and rushes me out of the flat. While we are
waiting for a taxi outside, Carol and I exchange phone numbers.

"Thank you Carole, I had a very lovely time," I tell her in my plummiest
voice. "I'd love to see you again. Please do text me any time you like."

She looks at me a bit doubtfully. The taxi arrives and I kiss her on the
cheek before jumping in the car to go home.