Desmond and writing (C) me
Daisy, Lily, and Iris (C) \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Daisy's Secret Friend
Written by Ceeb
Written by Ceeb
Strange men were nothing new to the possum trio. Not strange men in the sense that they were predators, or beaus of their oft working mother, but babysitters. Just as often women watched them, elderly grannies who adored the little ones all the way down to eighteen-year-olds trying to get a little extra cash. It was all the same to the possums, well-behaved girls who had grown used to strangers by necessity.
Their current babysitter came to them recommended by many. His name was Desmond Lankett, twenty-two years of age, part fox and part raccoon, and he babysat for a living. Of average height for a fox and of slender build, green-eyed and blonde-haired, Desmond was handsome and disarming. He played games with the children he watched, either video games, or board games in the poorer households. His prices were flexible. In the case of the three possum darlings, whose home was a mobile albeit a well-kept one, the night was only worth twenty dollars.
Getting on their side was easy. Mother left at six PM for her second job. She had pointed out to Desmond all of the things he could cook for dinner. Off-brand macaroni and cheese, name-brand Spaghetti-O's, frozen pizzas. It was up to him to tease a vote out of the girls. Desmond, smiling with his needly raccoon teeth, should have looked unsettling but his overall appearance was so plain and composed that she only thought him charming.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of 'em."
She left, believing her girls to be in good hands.
From the kitchen, Desmond stepped into the living room a few paces away. His charges looked up and over at him. In descending order of age they were Iris, Lily, and Daisy: fifteen, twelve, and seven years old. All were busy with different activities. Iris had a book in her hands, one with the dust cover laminated to the book's covers: a library book. Lily was watching TV, feet dangling off the couch. Daisy sat on the carpeted floor, filling in an autumn scene in her coloring book.
With all their eyes on him, Desmond asked, "Who wants pizza?"
"What, that lame frozen junk?" Iris huffed.
"No way," the coonfox said, grinning. "Let's do Pizza Hut, my treat."
Lily piped up: "Sweet, I want stuffed crust."
Even Iris, the one in the grips of moody teenage hormones, had to grin. "Okay. Sure."
"Yeah!" Daisy chimed in, hopping up from the floor. She threw herself onto the couch and sprawled across Lily's lap.
The middle sister tittered and drummed on her back. "Get off, quit it!" she said between giggles.
Desmond chuckled and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He had all the local pizza places on speed dial. Pizza was always a crowd-pleaser with the little ones.
During the wait for the pizza and especially after, the possums became quite friendly with Desmond. There were no video games to play and the TV was an old console-style beast, but he entertained them with novel sleight-of-hand tricks and amusing, wholesome YouTube videos on his phone.
Bedtime was 10 PM. Desmond graciously allowed them to stay up until 10:30, "but no telling mom, okay?"
"Okay!" Daisy emphatically agreed, and she grinned up at him, her small bespectacled face bright with admiration for the fox. Lily and Iris agreed more calmly.
It was close to midnight when he actually sent them to bed. Iris and Lily, being older and rather more responsible, went into their shared room without an argument. They were full of good food and happy for it. Daisy, the little one, required a bit more sweet-talking.
"Come on, honey," Desmond said, nudging the girl on the couch. She lifted her chin off of her chest long enough to whine.
Desmond smiled. "Daisy. Come on. Let's get you tucked in, you're exhausted." He pulled her arm, then gave her belly a tickle. She rose from her daze long enough to giggle, then hopped off of the couch.
"Oka-a-ay," she sighed.
Being only a single-wide, the home had two bedrooms, both rather small and adjacent to one another. Daisy shared the second bedroom with her mother. One half was austere, the other brimming with plushies and toy cars and dolls and coloring books. Mostly this mess was contained to Daisy's side of the room.
Desmond peered at his phone; midnight now. Once Daisy was in bed, he would have the house to himself for another two hours. Iris or Lily might have been easier, possibly even experienced, but there was really no other choice. Daisy adored him. She was all smiles all the time. She had hugged him more times than he could count, and all it had taken was some stuffed crust and garlic butter. He wondered what Penny, the ten-year-old bear who had sparked his thirst for younger girls, might think of this compulsion. He decided she probably would have been proud. It was her fault, of course, the little bitch. But he adored her.
He closed the door, then locked it with a soft snick. The only sound then was the rumble of the small furnace piping warm air through the vents. There was no snow on the ground but outside it was still quite chilly.
The possum's bed was slightly larger than her, its comforter in the style of multicolored building blocks. She began to pull back the comforter, but Desmond gently took her wrist. He had to be careful, gentle, always sweet - but still somewhat firm. Penny was the unusual one, the outlier, the girl who initiated and bullied. Daisy was sweet and diffident, a normal girl. He reminded himself of that repeatedly.
"Hold on, Daisy. I wanted to do something. You can stay up a little bit later, okay?"
"Okay!" Daisy said, a burst of energy from the tired possum. Then she remembered her sleeping sisters, cupped her snout, and whispered, "Sorry."
"It's okay," Desmond said, and smiled. He sat on the mother's bed. Wide enough for one, as beds tended to be in single-wides. Then he peeled off his shirt. Daisy watched without disapproval, only curiosity behind those big, thick lenses she wore. As if it were a game she had to play, he asked, "Well?"
The little ploy worked, and Daisy tugged her own shirt up and off. Desmond's breath hitched in his throat as he gazed on her chest - that smooth gray plane, those small round nipples, soft but titillating to the perverted fox.
Daisy smiled up at him. She had no gaps in her needle-like teeth, not yet; all her baby teeth were perfect and white. Desmond was always pleased by good hygiene in his charges. He said with a slightly dreamy quality to his quiet voice, "What a lovely smile you have, Daisy."
"Thank you," the girl demurely said, and her lips pursed as if out of self-consciousness.
Desmond, smiling, stood and undid the fly of his jeans. This Daisy watched with suspicion, but she still seemed to trust the friendly fox. She asked him as he sat back down in his briefs, "How come you're getting naked?"
The second he had taken off his shirt, Desmond knew he had crossed the point of no return. If he was going to find himself in a jail cell, he might as well enjoy his last free night. And so he leaned close, very close to the curious possum. He gently brushed her bobbed, brown hair from her forehead and placed a kiss there. "Daisy, I want to do something special with you. Just you and me. It'll be fun, okay?"
"Um. Okay," Daisy murmured. She kept her fleshy hands at her sides. She asked, "What're we gonna do?"
Desmond was salivating. His penis was small but stiff, and it jutted into his briefs and softly pulsated. "First, you need to get your shorts off, like me."
Although she was young, Daisy did not need help to get undressed. But then her body was slim, hips not yet womanly, and her shorts were easily tugged downward without the need to unzip them. Her panties were white and plain. Desmond, working to keep his breathing inconspicuously calm, hooked his thumbs into the waistband.
Daisy didn't resist him. Trust was implicit in her wide green eyes. Down slid off the soft fabric of her panties, baring her prepubescent sex. Fine gray fur dressed her loins as it did her belly, on the lips no more coarse than the fuzz of a peach. Daisy had yet to partake in all but the most shallow self-discovery, and the split of her pussy's lips was a perfect line.
"Perfect, just perfect," whispered, exultation in his voice. "Daisy, you're such a good playmate."
Daisy was confused, but at seven, many things confused her. Desmond's praise was delightful. She smiled, albeit tentatively. "I am?"
"You are," Desmond concurred, and kissed her, this time on the lips. Daisy kissed back reflexively, just a shallow little-girl kiss she probably gave her mother every day. It was enough for the fox, whose mouth had been swabbed by Penny's tongue dozens if not hundreds of times. Daisy was not a sexual creature, not yet. She was innocent.
For a moment Desmond gazed idly at her body, her flawless little body with only the barest hints of femininity. He wanted so much, but he needed to pace himself. Too much would scare her - make her chatter about what had happened. He would not fuck her, but she had other ways to give him satisfaction. It only needed to be fun for them both.
Desmond stood up slowly. He was acutely aware of the thrum of the room, the furnace and its gentle vibration in the mobile home. From the adjacent room he heard gentle snores. Too hard to tell if he heard two snores or only one; but he thought the other girls would be easy to deal with if something went wrong.
It was a welcome surprise when Daisy pawed at Desmond's briefs and started to pull them downward; she was playing the game he started, taking off his underwear as he had done hers. The waistband caught on the stiffened root of his penis and she gazed up at him for guidance. Desmond, with a smile plastered across his face, nodded. "Keep going. It's okay."
Emboldened by the approval, Daisy kept pulling. Desmond's briefs slid easily, going with the grain of his pillowy fur. The elastic cleared his penis and his small, pink shaft sprung free, immediately catching Daisy's eye with its alien shape. She stopped pulling his briefs and gazed at his penis up close, as if examining a caterpillar inching its away along a tree branch.
"What is it?" she bluntly asked, her green eyes meeting his. Then she gazed down, chin touching her chest, and made the inevitable comparison: "Yours sticks out."
"Because I'm a boy," Desmond said, gently. "And you're a...?"
"A girl," Daisy murmured. She looked up at him again. "Um..."
Desmond let his briefs fall then sat back down. Then he beckoned the girl with a pat on the bed. He was all smiles, calm and collected outwardly despite his pulsing erection. He said as Daisy clambered onto the bed and knelt at his side, "Sweetie, you and I, we're going to be secret friends. That means no telling mom or your sisters, or anybody else."
"Secret friends," Daisy parroted, looking down at his penis, then herself again. "Okay."
"Secret friends do all kinds of fun stuff for each other. They make each other very happy." Gently he hooked a paw around her behind. It was soft, rather flat, warm. Daisy started, but then settled against his paw. She giggled - a reassuring noise. "You want to make me happy, don't you? That pizza sure made you happy."
Now Daisy beamed a smile up at him, and its innocence was enough to melt Desmond's heart. She nodded eagerly, bangs flopping. Her long and whiplike tail swished in the air. "I wanna be secret friends, yup."
"I'm so happy to hear you say that," Desmond cooed. "So, so happy."
Daisy let him pull her into a hug. She nestled in against Desmond and her arms hooked around his middle, as they had many times that evening. Desmond was weird, but he was nice; he had examined her coloring books very carefully and complimented her work. He even did little magic tricks. Daisy was old enough to know she didn't really have quarters in her ear, but the trick was cool. And then the food had been good. Mom was a decent cook and sometimes they got McDonald's, but pizza was always too expensive. Desmond was a very cool babysitter, she thought.
"Now, sweetie," Desmond whispered into her round, flitting ear, "this is the part where you make me even happier. And who can you tell about it?"
"No one," Daisy said, her immature mouth almost combining the words. "'Cuz we're secret friends."
Desmond's smile beamed. "You're as smart as you are pretty. Now lean back a little bit."
Daisy did. She was excited, happy, eager to make her Secret Friend happy. In her mind the words formed a proper noun; being a Secret Friend was a very important task and one she took as seriously as her age would permit.
Like a suitor about to ask his lady to a dance, Desmond delicately took Daisy's hands in his paws. Then he touched them to his small, stiff penis, and the mere brush of her fine fur and warm flesh caused his penis to throb and disgorge a wad of precum.
Daisy stared at the clear fluid and wondered just what was leaking out of Desmond, but it wasn't blood or pee and she didn't know what else it could possibly be.
"Hold onto it, now," he said, and just a hint of desperation tinged his voice. He watched as Daisy cupped not one, but both hands around his penis; it was small, embarrassingly small, but Daisy's hands were small, too. In her delicate grip, he looked big. Not even Penny could two-fist his cock. In Daisy's hands it pulsated, precum leaking steadily now, oozing over her knuckles.
"What's this stuff?" Daisy asked, not removing her hands from his penis. "Are you, um, crying?"
Desmond had to chuckle. She was ignorant and innocent, and god, did it make her cute. He kissed the top of her head, pausing to smell her hair, which smelled of fruity children's shampoo. No dandruff, at least, and no knots either; Daisy was very well-groomed. He wondered if it was her mom or her sisters who brushed her hair. Maybe they all doted on her. As precious as she was, he could picture it easily.
"I'm not crying, no," he whispered. "It's not important. Let's just say it means I'm happy, and getting even happier." He squeezed her behind softly, then fondled her smooth, perfect chest. Her nipples, he found, had stiffened up. Whether this was due to a chill or excitement didn't matter, but he strummed them happily. He would taste them later. He would taste the split of her immature sex, as well. But later, all of it later. His cock was in her hands, he needed nothing else from her.
"Now start to pull it, stroke it," he whispered, speaking especially quietly and near to her ear. This was something he wanted only her to hear, and not her sisters if they happened to be eavesdropping. He wouldn't put it past the little bitches. They were usually nosy, especially as they grew older. Daisy was right in the sweet spot of pliability and sweetness.
Daisy was clumsy; but that was okay. Excitement and taboo had gotten Desmond quite far to begin with, and her hands only needed to help him cross the finish line. Already his toes were curling. He watched, delighted, as her little hands glided up and down. Her motions were clumsy and irregular like badly-tuned pistons, but reliable enough. Her fleshy possum palms were incredibly smooth, almost virginal in their lack of wrinkles and callouses.
"Oh, yes, like that," Desmond panted. The look on his face was pure bliss. Daisy had never seen this look on an adult before - the oh-face. To her it was almost unnerving, almost a pained cringe. That was something she had seen. Her big sister Iris tended to cringe and cry a lot when mom was not around. Sometimes she did it even when nothing appeared to be wrong.
"Faster, go faster, hon," breathed Desmond, hunching over somewhat, his legs curling in and giving him a pigeon-toed look. Daisy's mind came back from its wandering stroll. She was focused on her Secret Friend; he was weird, and he wanted weird things, but it didn't bother her. It didn't hurt. And if something this weird made him happy, then she was happy to do it.
She asked him, huffing with exertion, "Is it-, is it making you happy? Are you happy yet?"
"Very happy, very happy," Desmond assured her. He slid his paw across her chest. He could feel her heart beating under the mantle of her breastplate; that knot of muscle so small, still growing just like the rest of her body.
His climax was near. He would have to explain semen to her, tell her not to be afraid of it. Maybe he could coax her to eat it, but that was a stretch goal. Just getting her to finish beating him off was the main course for tonight. He slid his fingers down her small, smooth body. Brushed his fingerpads against her loins, fingered the outer lips of her virgin vulva tentatively, like an archaeologist removing grains of sand one brush stroke at a time.
Daisy softly gasped. There was nothing adult or pleasurable to it; she was simply startled as if a spider had dropped onto her head. Her hands hesitated and squeezed, and Desmond groaned, his teeth showing.
"Oh, sorry, sorry," Daisy whined, and unhanded him.
Desmond quickly pulled her back. With as gentle and soothing a voice as he could muster, he spoke, "No, keep going. That made me very happy."
Daisy was blushing from embarrassment. She started to tug him again, playing with that little pink root of his. Watching the strange hood of skin pull back to bare the little purplish mushroom underneath. Clear fluid jetted from the hole in its tip; it was smeared all over Daisy's hands, making them slippery the way mom's hand lotion did.
Still Desmond molested her. He touched her chest, where she seemed not to mind his touch; and her bottom, which she had at least grown used to him touching. His finger slipped between her small buttocks, brushed the pink bud of her anus, and again she gasped but this time she continued to tug him. She would not fail her Special Friend a second time.
"Daisy, you're perfect," Desmond cooed. "You're just-, just so perfect. You're the best special friend I could ever ask for."
Daisy smiled. Her tail curled around his arm and her hands worked at his penis harder, quicker, as she had caught on to the fact that he liked it when she was rough. She had no idea she was being molested and raped. She was only making her Special Friend feel good. She said quietly, "You're really cool... you're a cool babysitter."
Desmond did not reply. He bit his lip and he shuddered. He held onto her but not too tightly, imagining peachflesh and how horribly it bruised under the slightest grope. Daisy kept going and going, jerking him off with admirable energy and devotion. As he came, his spunk shot through her fingers, landing in his hair, in his fur, clinging to her fleshy digits. Desmond never shot much or far, the benefit of a small penis and a small scrotum to match it; there would be no bath for Daisy or an emergency wipe-down of the bedroom.
"Okay," Desmond said, voice quavering. His cock was tender now, horribly sensitive, and he was shivering as Daisy continued to stroke. "Stop. Stop now, sweetheart, please."
The young possum was quick to stop, and then she stared at her palms. Her fingers were webbed with semen, but she had a look of curiosity on her face rather than worry or revulsion. "What's this stuff...?"
That's a talk for another time, thought Desmond, glancing at the digital clock on mother's nightstand. It was quarter to one, and though mom wouldn't be home until two at the earliest, Daisy needed to sleep.
"Don't worry about it. It's a good thing, that's all you need to know about it." Desmond took a few tissues from the box on the nightstand; talking Daisy into being a cum-guzzler could wait, like so many other things. He had taken some big steps - and some big risks. Better to ease her down.
He cleaned her fingers with the tissues, then himself. Daisy pointed out the semen in his hair, and with her help, he cleaned it up. They both had a quiet giggle about that; Desmond was glad to still have her on his side. And his afterglow from such a taboo act was pure bliss, one of the finest highs he had ever experienced.
"Time to get dressed," Desmond said. He picked up her panties and thought of smelling the crotch, but ultimately simply helped her back into them. He fondled her as she made herself decent, played with her little nipples. For sleeping, she pulled on an overlarge t-shirt with a faded college sports team logo on its chest. Desmond asked where the dirty clothes went; Daisy said mom just put them in the washing machine.
Holding the wadded tissues in a paw with her shirt and shorts hugged against his chest, Desmond made to turn off the light. Daisy, lying in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, asked him quietly: "Um, can I have a kiss goodnight? Mommy usually gives me one..."
Desmond grinned. "I'm not your mommy, though, sweetie. You ask all your babysitters for a kiss?"
"Nuh-uh," Daisy giggled, and grinned back. "But you're my Special Friend..."
Desmond's grin softened to a warm smile. He blushed. "You're absolutely right. We are." He knelt down and he kissed her gently on the lips. She kissed back, shallowly and sweetly.
"Goodnight, Daisy," Desmond cooed. "And remember. That was just for us."
"Yup," Daisy agreed, and rolled onto her side. Absently she pawed her glasses off of her face, then felt around, trying to set them on the small table at the head of her bed. Desmond took them from her and set them down gently.
"Sleep well, hon," Desmond said, and turned out the light. He closed the door on his way out.
Into the utility room he went. There was a wastebasket in there with dryer lint and used sheets inside. Desmond shoved the semen-covered tissues down to the bottom of the pile, then tossed her shirt into the washing machine. Despite orgasm and afterglow, he was still eager for more of Daisy and so he brought the shorts to his snout, then smelled the crotch indulgently. It sent a shiver through his body. Her panties would've been stronger. Another time. He dropped the shorts into the washer and turned off the utility room light.
"Hey, doing laundry?"
Desmond flinched and turned sharply. Lily was staring at him. The middle sister, the one with curly brown hair, who had gone to bed happy for the food and the attention.
For a moment the foxcoon sported a craven, hateful look. He had never been busted in the middle of a perverse act before. But he forced himself to be calm. To think of what the little hellion Penny might do if caught in the act. And nothing suggested she had seen him sniffing Daisy's shorts.
"What are you doing up, sweetie?" he asked her, gently.
Lily eyed him. After a moment she decided she had simply startled him. It was mostly dark in the house, after all, and he was in an unfamiliar place.
"I was still kinda hungry," said Lily, and nodded at the fridge. "Can I have some more pizza?"
Desmond smiled. He took the pizza box out of the fridge and laid it on the counter. "Sure you can. Help yourself."
Lily smiled back. She and Desmond both ate a slice of cold pizza. She asked him as she was eating her cheese-filled crust, "Um, so, why were you with Daisy so long? Did she want you to read one of those lame bedtime stories to her? I heard whispering."
Desmond stared at her. "What, were you eavesdropping? That's not very nice."
The possum shrugged. She had breasts which were just beginning to sprout; Desmond saw them jiggle ever so subtly under the nightshirt she was wearing.
"My bed is against the wall. Sorry."
Desmond muttered his acknowledgment. Then he said, "She wanted me to stay. She was upset about mom being gone. She seems kinda sensitive, so I sat with her a little while."
"Oh," was all Lily said. "Uh, well, I'm going back to bed. Night."
Desmond watched her as she turned and started to go. Like Daisy, she wore what was probably one of mom's old shirts, this one a white tee with a faded silkscreen of a local radio station's logo. Unlike Daisy, she was almost too big for it; like a racy skirt, it ended far above the knees and exposed a titillating amount of thigh. A light breeze would have given him a look at her buttocks.
"Lily," he said, closing the pizza box, "one thing before you go."
The possum paused at the threshold to the living room. Looking back, she asked him, "Yeah?"
Although he had recently had an orgasm (and a damn fine one at that), Lily's subtly feminine body seemed to demand molestation. He hesitated, then he asked, "Are you warm enough? Want me to turn up the thermostat?"
Lily shook her head. "Nah. We have a ton of extra blankets. Mom says she'd rather we use those than turn the heat up."
Desmond nodded. In profile he could see her nipples prodding into the threadbare shirt. His small penis began to stiffen again.
"Sleep well, Lily." He winked. "And tell your mom to hire me again."
The possum giggled. "Totally, as long as there's more pizza in it. And maybe some cream soda next time."
"Sounds like a date to me."
Desmond watched her go. When he heard the bedroom door close, he retrieved Daisy's shorts from the washing machine and turned off the lights. He knew he wouldn't last long. He just wished he had her panties instead.