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Filthy Red Riding Hood
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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Once upon a time, there lived a young beauty of 15 named Little Red
Riding Hood, so called because she adored wearing small, bright red felt
cloaks which covered her head. She lived with her endearing mother, who always
taught her right from wrong and made sure that she didn't get involved in the
seamy world around her. Thus, Little Red Riding Hood spent most of her
child-hood in her house, playing with her dolls. She knew little
about life, and at her age, was a virgin. Her mother realized that
with the smooth, milky body her daughter was blessed with,
her innocence could easily be tainted by some uncaring man.
The girl remained in her sheltered life, venturing out of her home
perhaps only to feed the deer, fetch water, or run an errand. The
latter one day beckoned the girl to leave her house. Her Granny, who lived in a
small cottage deep in the woods, was ailing, and needed some cheering
up. Little Red's mother packed a yummy basket of cakes and pies for
the old woman, and sent her to deliver them, with a strong warning
not to talk to anybody.
Little Red ventured into the woods, wearing a long peasant dress, a
white shirt, black stockings, and of course her red cloak which matched her
little shoes. Although her body was all but completely covered up, whenever
the wind blew, her dress would billow up just a few inches above her stock-
ings, baring her knees and, at times, the back of her legs. But as since no-
body was around to notice, and perhaps out of her own naivete', she happily
allowed this to happen. As she skipped gaily down the trail through the woods,
picking flowers and humming little melodies, the sun began to beat on her. It
was nearing noon, and the air was humid and hot. She removed her red cloak and
stuffed it in her basket. Her neck and head were now exposed to the
world, yet she didn't mind. She playfully undid the little tie that kept her
hair up, and let her strawberry blonde hair dance and dangle against her
shoulders, damp from the humidity in the air. She continued to trot down the
little trail until she slipped in a small puddle of mud, left after the
weekend's rains.
"Oh, poop!" she called. Her lovely blue dress now had a large brown
stain in the front, and she could tell that her hair was mussed up with dust
and dirt. Granny wouldn't like to see her this way, and although her mother
taught her to be gentle and forgiving, she still had her own vanity to deal
with. She walked a little further until she came to a small, clear pond, in
the opening of the woods. The sun shone bright on large, smooth rocks,
gathered around the clean water as an audience to a play. This was the perfect
place to wash off her dress and her hair, and take a short rest before
continuing on to Granny's. she slowly undid her petite belt and pulled
her dress over her head. It was filthy. She dunked it in the water
and placed a small stone on top, so that it might not sink or drift
away. She looked down at herself and noticed
that her pretty white shirt and slip were also a little
dirty, and although nobody would notice, she preferred to be a clean little
lady. She slowly undid the fragile buttons on her white shirt and gently lifted
it off, releasing her smooth, soft skin to the warm sunlight. It felt good. She
then dunked it in the water and wrung it out, then set it on one of
the rocks to dry. At this point she caressed her stomach. She marveled,
a little vainly, at how perfectly smooth it was. She looked at her
reflection in the water and examined her shoulders,
creamy and round, and her breasts. Being as innocent as
she was, she didn't worry that somebody might be peeking at her through the
woods, so she continued to look at herself. She stared a little longer at her
breasts.
They were nice, she thought. Although she didn't know anything about
sex, she felt them and touched them with delight, oblivious to the thrill that
she might feel, should a young gent be there to do it for her. She lay on her
back and looked at the rest of her body. She forgot! Her dirty slip was
still on her. She slowly slid it down over her thighs, then her knees,
and finally her feet. She again dumped it into the pond, soaking it
well, and set it out to dry. She felt a little silly walking
around with just her shoes, stockings, and panties on,
so she undid her little buckles and slipped off the ruby-red shoes.
She then almost seductively rolled her socks down her healthy forelegs, which
were long and just as smooth as the rest of her body. She stuffed her stockings
into her shoes and set them aside. Then, almost naughtily, she slowly
- ever so slowly, inched her panties down and off.
She was now wholly and completely nude. Not a single garment or
ornament was still on her body. She shook some of the dust in her
hair and, again, marvelled at her reflection in the pond. It felt so
good to be naked; she was chastised for it at home, so looking at
herself was wonderful and, she thought wickedly, disrespectful. It
didn't matter. She was feeling free and -- unknowingly -- very very
sexy. She massaged her feet, then slowly slid her hands upwards,
gently stroking her luscious thighs and silky legs. She really
enjoyed doing this, and the slower she did things, she found that
she gained more enjoyment.
She then circled her hands around the curious patch of hair between
her legs. Although she had seen it before, mother had strict rules against
touching it or playing with it. Now she didn't care. She almost felt like a
woman, because that area had once been bare and clean. Little Red enjoyed
curling and uncurling the soft little hairs, and started giggling. She
remembered the time when she had spyed on a boy, as naked then as she was
now, swimming in a brook. He had quite a different little attachment under
his belly button, and now she wondered what it would feel like; if it would
be any different than her warm little crease. She suddenly felt a tinge of
excitement at this thought, and wondered what it was. Her small, rosy nipples
began to harden into little tips that stuck out of her breasts. Painful in a
small way, it was very pleasurable in another. She rolled over onto her
stomach and enjoyed how the sun-warmed rocks heated her skin. She grabbed her
little cloak from the basket and started squeezing it, imagining the naked
boy she had once seen. She had no idea why she was doing this; hugging and
holding other people, such as her mother, her father, or even the neighbor,
never gave her this much pure ecstasy. She pretended to kiss it, again, not as
she kissed her loved ones, but as she might kiss a handsome prince, or a
strong king. She pretended that her hands were that of somebody else's, and
firmly grabbed her buttocks. She really liked the feel of the soft, round
cheeks, as well as her own fingers teasing and clutching them.
Little Red rolled off the rock and into the pond. The water was very
warm and very inviting, with only a slight shiver that sent a luxurious
chill up her spine. She swam for a little while and slunk out of the pond and
back onto the rock. She stretched her legs and arms as far as they would go,
and eyed her hips and thighs lustily. As the sun evaporated the tiny beads of
water on her breasts, she patted them and rubbed them and cooed in delight.
This was truly a wonderful feeling, and her attention focused more and more
on that naked boy she saw. She raised her knees to her face and kissed them
and smothered them with love. She hugged her knees and stared at herself,
all curled up, in the reflection on the surface of the pond.
"I wonder what it would feel like," she said aloud, "if some boy would
hold me close to him right now and stroke my back and hold my legs
and tickle my breasts. It would feel so nice to feel his firm
muscular arms and chest, and the pleasure- Oh! Of grasping and
kissing and hugging each other, both completely nude, on my large,
soft feather bed. OH! Such pleasure!" She licked her
lips and grabbed her hair, squeezing the water out of it and
thriving in the feel of the warm water dripping down on her sun-dried body.
She again fondled her breasts and played with the hair around her "secret,"
occasionally letting her finger glide around the tender skin around the open-
ing. She rolled around on the soft moss that had grown near the stone and
rubbed and held and stroked her lovely derriere. She wished that she could
see it, and, even more so, she wished that she could seize a man's chunky,
firm buttocks instead. She curled up again and blew softly in between her
legs, giggling slightly at the ticklish feeling of it, and finally, completely
satisfied of herself, she got dressed and went back on the trail.
As she continued her journey to Granny's (she hoped she wouldn't be
too late -- Her little adventure had taken about an hour), she passed by the
brook where she had seen that naked boy. She heard some splashing noises
around the area and went to take a look. There again was that boy, a little
older, a little taller, and much more muscular. She noticed that around his
cute attachment between his legs, he had hair as well. Little Red's heart
raced with a pleasurable warmth and she flung her basket into the trees,
anxious to fulfill her little fantasy with the boy. She ran down the bank,
toward the water and flung off her clothes with such elementary ease and
graceful swiftness that she looked not unlike a fragile deer bounding across
a meadow. She dove into the pool and, unbeknownst to the boy, grabbed his
body firmly.
The boy looked down in surprise and was going to say something when
Little Red leaped out of the water, wrapping her arms tightly around his
chest and kissed him very hard. She felt something stiff, warm, and large
entering her little furry envelope, and judging by the boy's blush, knew it
was his mature member. It felt better than anything else she did that day,
and when the boy clutched her buttocks and squeezed them hard, just as he
had entered her all the way, she flung her legs around his waist, beat at his
back with a seductive pound, and kissed his mouth with all the energy, fury,
and passion she had in her body. She then howled, like a wolf, so loudly that
the trees shook, the water boiled, and the earth rumbled. She then had
a feeling of unbridled euphoria that took over her entire body. It was
as if she could just rise and fly above the heavens. She looked at
the boy's face and he had a big grin from ear to ear. Little Red
Riding Hood was now the real woman she had always wanted to be. And
so, they lived happily ever after.
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