The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 2 Podcast Por  arte de portada

The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 2

The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 2

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The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 2 Hot Chocolate and homemade cookies. Based on a post by MrJack, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. The afternoon and early evening hours dragged on uneventfully. I had bathed (again), and put on a dark wool shirt and faded jeans. While the snow continued falling, I snacked on cookies and absentmindedly tried to watch part of a football game. Flipping off the TV, I tried surfing some porn, but the flavor of mint chocolate cookies drew my thoughts back to the taste of a luscious young Girl Scout Leader's lips and the feeling of a tight pussy enveloping my cock. I suppose I ate too many cookies, so my supper was just a hurried snack of thrown-together leftovers. About 6 o'clock, I cleaned up the kitchen and then went to the living room to stir up the embers in the fireplace. I threw a few logs in and soon had a cozy warm fire, heating and lighting the room. Curiosity led me to flip on the front porch light and take a look at the weather through the front door's ice-covered windowpane. Huge flakes of fluffy snow were falling like windswept feathers from the darkened sky. Several inches were already covering the ground. Suddenly, my peering eyes caught a glimpse of a hat and coat-covered figure trudging through the snow on a heading straight towards my door. The short stature of the struggling person made my heart leap with hopeful anticipation. If my instincts were right, my young Scout Leader lover was returning like a thief to the scene of an afternoon crime. When I cracked the door open, the snow-covered apparition rushed inside and headed straight for the warmth of the fire. Throwing a backpack in a chair, my visitor removed gloves and then snatched off a knitted woolen hat and a long scarf. A fly-away mop of curly brunette hair confirmed my suspicions that my Little Debbie had indeed returned to me. "Hi Jason," she breathlessly said. "Goodness gracious, I didn't realize it was so 'wintry' outside!" Although I was elated beyond belief, to have my teen love back in my home, I couldn't stop myself from admonishing her. "Damnit Debbie!" my unbidden words said. "I thought I told you to 'go away little girl' until we had time to think things out!" "Hold onto your horses, Mister," Debbie retorted. "I didn't come back to stir up trouble. I've brought your jacket back to you. I'll leave when I get warmed up. Okay?" Digging into her backpack, Debbie drew out my jacket and tossed it to me. Throwing the coat aside, I grabbed the girl and jerked her into my arms. "No young lady, it's not 'okay'!" I answered forcibly. "You're staying for a while! If I need to, I'll do what you said I would someday say. I'll 'beg you to stay'! Now, take off your coat and your wet shoes and socks, please." Stepping away from me, the obedient teenager shrugged her shoulders and then removed her coat. When my astonished eyes realized what this girl had on beneath her outerwear, I just about peed in my pants! Long gone was the tight-fitting Scout Leader uniform. In its place the young woman wore a pair of baggy 'bib' overalls. They weren t denim, like farmers often wear. This garment was handmade and pastel blue, made from a cotton knit fabric. Beneath the bibs she had on no shirt! She had on no bra! And, if I were to guess, I'd guess she had on no panties! Debbie stood flatfooted and then bent over at the waist. She began pulling off her snow-wet shoes and socks. Without the confinement and support of a bra, this girl-woman's breasts fell down and strained against the barely-concealable covering of her bib top. The twin thin straps crossing over her bare shoulders were the only mechanical supports keeping the busty boobs from escaping completely. For a young lady of such a slim and diminutive stature, her tits seemed to be enormously over-proportioned. I never was a fella who kept up with the technicalities of boob-cup size. I usually used a more objective measurement. I'd say Debbie's breasts were about the size and shape of a couple of Sunshine State grapefruits on an overdose of steroids. At the moment, those dangly mesmerizing melons were swinging to and fro in the firelight's glow. As they swayed, jutting nickel sized dark-pink nipples flashed out from their bib covering. Two-inch pale pink areolas framed the nubile nubs. "God damn it, Debbie!" I suddenly announced. "I thought you just said you didn't come here to 'stir up trouble'! Hell girl, a female with exposed tits like those is going to get plenty of 'trouble' coming her way!" Debbie smiled, grabbed her backpack, and took a seat on the floor near the fire. "Jason, my dear," she teasingly scolded. "Mister, I have on more clothes than you had on when you greeted me at the door earlier today! Hey Honey, guess what? Sit down because I have a surprise for you." Giving in to undeniable temptation, I sat on the plush rug, in the middle of the floor. Digging into her pack, Debbie removed a covered Tupperware container, a ...
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