1. The Truth About Wolfie and Little Red


    Date: 10/2/2015, Categories: Fetish, Taboo Voyeur, Author: bryanLL 

    ... “Bottom”--mmmmm yes! She circled the bush and her face was a wrinkle of perplexion. “How did this happen?” she asked. She reached the lower purple flowers right before my eyes. She commonly smelled pretty buds before picking them [so do I] and I watched her fingers gather a single flower. She bent down to test its acceptability. When she bent down—yes, you know! (I'm not the only perve currently engaged in this story!)--her short summer dress rose and—mmmmm---there it was, her cute little butt encased in soft, white, thin, cotton panties. My eyes were glued to it---feasting on the sight—her little butt. Yes, I admit it. I told you I’m a pervert. So cute. So round. And it pushed against that cotton and made it stretch and the more she bent, the more her beauty was defined. I had all I could do to keep from panting or diving in nose first. She bent lower to find another flower and with that bend, she was wet-dream worthy. But, I controlled myself because we were still only in chapter one of the storied fable. After she picked a few flowers for her basket of bread and Jack Daniels for granny, she moved down the path. Meanwhile. I moved from the purple bushes and raced ahead to the rose bushes. I had prepared the rose bushes as I had the previous bushes and she bent over the same and picked two roses while my lusting eyes ogled her wonderfully round rear-end. The next stop was the daisy patch but instead of bending over, she sat on a smooth stone in front of me and I watched her ...
    ... cushy little bottom nestle down on that lucky stone. Damn how I wanted my face to be that stone and feel the cush of her tush surrounding my eager nose. There were no more places to stalk and watch so I raced ahead to grandma’s place. I pulled a carton of cigarettes and a dildo from inside my trench coat [what else would you expect a pervy wolf to wear?] and told grandma to scram, “Here's a sawbuck. There’s a sale on whiskey at the Liquor Mart”. I tucked myself in bed after donning one of her bed caps. Little Red Missy---yes, Missy was her real name---knocked on the door. I told her to come in. She said, “Grandma what a deep voice you have.” I responded, “It’s these damned cigarettes, sweety. Don’t ever take up with smoking. It’s the worst!” Her head tilted. “But grandma, what big, hairy hands you have.” I replied, “Yeah well Missy, when you drink straight whiskey, it will put hair on your chest, among other places.” Seeming cautious and suspicious she continued. “Why grandma, what a big nose you have!” I nearly laughed. “Yes Missy, grandma’s nose has grown because wolfi—errrr, I mean—grandma uses it a lot and, well, she lies like Pinocchio.” Now with a concerned expression, Little Red Missy asked, “But, why the weird teeth? I thought you had braces as a k**. Wait, you’re the wolfie!” she cried. “You’re the wolfie! I heard about you. You’re going to eat me!” &#034Eat, eat, eat; doesn't anybody ever fuck anymore?&#034 I wondered under my breath while I donned my best Michael ...
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