Emma, is a 22-year-old woman with a youthful appearance that leads people to believe she is much younger than she is.
I went to a clothing store because I needed a few things. It’s a long story, I can’t wear tight-fitting things like leggings and tops with my tiny tits. I’m 22, but I look so young that people always think I’m a girl, not a grown woman, but what should I do? I look very young, and I can’t change that.
I looked through the clothes racks, then went to the women’s clothing section. A woman approached me and asked if I needed any help. I told her that I was just looking for a skirt, blouse and pair of jeans. The woman was nice and asked me how old I was. “Why are you asking?” I asked her. “Because we have children’s clothing, and it’s cheap.”
I was confused. “Children’s clothing?” I thought. She thinks I’m a little girl? I felt a little annoyed, but then she led me to a section of the store that was full of kids’ clothing. The prices were good, and I decided to look through the items. Maybe I would find a cute t-shirt, leggings or something else.
The saleswoman showed me a few dresses, skirts and tops. I tried on some things and found a cute dress that was comfortable. Then the saleswoman brought over some leggings and showed me where the dressing rooms were. I looked at the leggings and saw that they were labeled as being for 12-year-olds. I decided that I might as well try them on, even though I was an adult and felt weird about it.
As I went towards the dressing room, the saleswoman stopped me. “You’re so cute,” she said. “Show us how you look in the clothes.” I looked around and saw that there were several men standing near the racks of children’s clothing. Some of them were holding little boys’ clothes, but others were holding girls’ clothes. “What?” I asked the saleswoman. She smiled at me. “Try on some clothes and show us how they look on you. We’ll tell you if we think you should buy them.”
I felt a little embarrassed, but the saleswoman was smiling and friendly. Maybe it would be fun to have some people to help me pick out clothes. I started to try things on and then walked out of the dressing room wearing whatever I had just put on. The men were always very supportive. “I like that,” one of them said. “You look great.” “Yes, I think you should buy that.” A few of them told me to try on more clothes, so I kept trying things on and walking out so that the men could see how I looked. Some of the clothes were really cute, and the men liked almost everything I tried on.
They asked me to twirl around, lift my arms and even pull the dress up a little so that they could see the hem. I started to feel like a real model, and it was kind of fun. I didn’t understand why these men were standing there and telling me which clothes I should buy, but they were being nice, and it didn’t feel like anything weird was going on.
I picked a few pieces and took them to the register to pay. As I was checking out, the saleswoman came over to me. “If you ever want to make some extra money,” she whispered to me, “you could do some modeling for these guys. They’ll pay you.” I didn’t know what she was talking about and felt a little confused. She told me to come back to the store on Saturday afternoon and explained that some of the men wanted to talk to me about modeling clothes for them.
I didn’t know if I should go or not, but it seemed like a lot of fun, and I did need money. I wasn’t sure what I had gotten myself into, but the woman seemed to think it was something good. I told her I would come back on Saturday.
As I was leaving the store with my bags, a man came over to me. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked. “My car is right outside.” I felt a little scared and didn’t know how to answer. “Are you okay?” he asked me, noticing that I looked confused. “Yes,” I said. “I don’t live far away, so I’ll just walk.” He smiled at me. “Okay, I’ll walk with you.”
As we walked, he started asking me questions. “What’s your name?” “How old are you?” “Do you have a boyfriend?” I told him my name, but didn’t want to tell him that I was 22. That would probably be a surprise for him. “How old do you think I am?” I asked. He thought for a moment. “13 or 14.” I felt a chill run through me, but also a kind of excitement. “Let’s not talk about my age,” I said to him. “That’s okay,” he told me. “I know what you’re doing on Saturday, and I think it will be a lot of fun for you.”
He explained to me that they wanted me to go to a photo shoot. They were going to take some pictures of me wearing children’s clothes, and then I would be able to buy the clothes for a very low price. They might also be able to pay me something for the pictures. I didn’t know if that sounded like a good idea, but he seemed to think it was.
“Do you want me to meet you at the store on Saturday?” he asked. I thought for a minute. He had been nice to me, and it would be good to have someone to help me figure out what was going on. “Yes,” I told him. “Thank you.”
We said goodbye, and I went home. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and what he had said. They wanted to take pictures of me in children’s clothes? Did that sound weird? It didn’t seem like it, but I wasn’t sure.
Maybe I should ask my father. Then again, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, was I?
When Saturday came around, the man met me at the store. “Hello,” he said. “I’m going to call you a car, and it will take you and the other models to the place where we’ll be shooting.” I nodded, and he got on his phone to call a car. A few minutes later, a woman arrived. “Hi,” she said to me and the man. “You must be Emma. Are you ready to go?” I nodded and followed her out of the store.
We rode in silence. I didn’t really know what to say, and the woman seemed lost in her own thoughts. After 20 minutes, we arrived at the place where the photo shoot was going to be held. There were a few men there, and they said hello to me. “Come into the dressing room,” the woman told me. “Put on this outfit.”
I went into the dressing room and saw several sets of clothes. She had pointed to a blue dress, white socks and sneakers. I took off my clothes and put on the dress. It fit perfectly and was really comfortable. I didn’t feel strange wearing a dress for girls, but I had always worn that kind of thing. I walked out to where the men were waiting. “Wow,” one of them said, looking at me. “That fits you perfectly. Let’s start.” They told me where to stand and how to pose for the photos.
After we had taken pictures of me in the blue dress, they told me to change into another outfit. It was a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. I put on the leggings, which fit well, but the t-shirt was a little big for me. I walked back out where the men were. “Hey,” one of them said to me, “can we get you to pose in some underwear?” I felt a little startled, but he was being nice. “Okay,” I said.
The woman who had picked me up had a set of underwear for me. It was a little girl’s underwear with flowers on it. I put it on, and the men asked me to pose again. I walked over to a bed and lay down. “Lift your legs a little,” one of the men told me. I did it, and he took some pictures. “Good,” he said. “Now roll over and lift your butt up.” I did what he said, and he took more pictures. “Okay,” he said. “That’s good.” I put my clothes back on and thought about what they had just done. Why had they taken pictures of my butt? And why were they so happy with the photos they got? I didn’t like it much, but maybe they had a good reason.
They told me to put on a nightgown next. I went back into the dressing room and took off my leggings. “Can I leave my underwear on?” I asked the woman. She looked at me for a moment and shook her head. “Take it off,” she said. I felt a little weird, but did what she said.
The nightgown fit me well and was very comfortable. It was soft and warm, and felt good against my skin. I walked back out to the men and saw that the photographer had set up his camera and lights. “Lie down on the bed,” he said to me. “And pull the nightgown up a little.” I did it and saw him take some photos of me. “Roll over onto your tummy,” he said. I did and he took more photos. “Now lift your butt up and bend your knees,” he said. I felt a little uncomfortable, but did it.
The photographer came over to me and said something to one of the other men. “Do you think you could take off the nightgown?” the other man asked me. I hesitated for a moment, but then took it off. The photographer took some photos of me laying there on the bed, then told me to roll over. “Spread your legs and move your hand down so that you can touch yourself,” he said.
I did it, but felt a little strange. Why were they taking photos of me like that? “Do you mind?” I asked the photographer. “No,” he said. “This is what we need.”
I moved my hand down and touched my pussy. The photographer took some pictures, then told me to take my hand away. “Bend your knees and spread your legs wide,” he said to me.
I did it and felt his hand touch my pussy. “Do you shave?” he asked. “No,” I said. He nodded. “Well, that’s good,” he said. He got something out of his bag and rubbed it between my legs. It felt good, so I closed my eyes and let him do it. “That feels nice,” I told him.
The photographer rubbed the lotion onto my pussy and my thighs, then moved his hands down towards my feet. “What are you doing?” I asked him. “Just getting you ready for some more pictures,” he said. He lifted my feet and started rubbing the lotion into them, then worked his way up my legs until he got to my pussy. I felt his fingers rub me gently, then started to move my hips a little. “Oh,” I said in a soft voice.
The photographer looked at me and smiled. “It feels good, right?” he said. I nodded my head. The man with him was standing there watching and stroking his cock. I saw the wetness on his tip and felt my pussy get wet. “Rub yourself,” he told me. I moved my hand down to my pussy and started stroking it. The photographer took photos of me and told me not to stop. “Keep rubbing yourself,” he said.
I felt my pussy start to throb, and my hips moved faster. I looked up at the man with the photographer and saw that he was still rubbing his cock. “You’re making him hard,” the photographer said. “Doesn’t that feel good?” I nodded my head, then felt myself come. I cried out and felt myself squirt some wetness onto the bed.
The photographer and the other man came over to the bed and looked at me laying there. “That was great,” the other man said. I smiled at him and felt happy that I had made him excited. He moved towards me and rubbed my pussy gently, then lifted my legs and rubbed his cock against my pussy lips. “Doesn’t it feel good?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I said. “Please.” I didn’t know exactly what I was asking for, but felt like I wanted his cock inside of me.
The man pushed his cock into my pussy slowly. It felt big and hurt a little, but he held my hands and stroked my breasts while he pushed in deeper. When he was all the way inside of me, he looked down at my face. “Is that okay?” he asked.
I nodded and felt him move his cock in and out of me. The photographer was standing there taking photos, and another man had come over to stroke my hair. “You’re a good girl,” he said. “Just lie there and let him fuck you.”
The man who was fucking me moved faster, then cried out and came inside of me. He held himself inside of me for a moment, then pulled out. The photographer came over and took some more photos of my pussy, then rubbed his cock between my pussy lips. I was already wet from the man who had fucked me, so his cock slipped in easily. “Do you like this?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, moving my hips up to meet his thrusts. The other man had gotten on top of me and was holding my legs up in the air so that my pussy was open wide for the photographer. The photographer moved faster and faster, then cried out. He pushed his cock deep into me and came, filling my pussy with his cum.
I lay there on the bed feeling the warm cum dripping out of me onto the sheets. The other man rolled me onto my tummy and lifted my butt up, then pushed his cock into me. He started fucking me hard, pulling my hair and slapping my butt. “You like this?” he said into my ear. “Yes,” I cried.
The man came inside of me and pulled his cock out. Then the last man rolled me onto my back and pushed his cock into me. I was already full of cum, but this man’s cock felt big inside of me. I could feel his balls slapping against my butt with each thrust, and his hands squeezing my breasts. He moved faster and faster until he came inside of me, filling me even more full of cum.
The four men sat around me and looked down at my pussy. They were all smiling and seemed happy. “Was that fun?” the photographer asked me. “Yes,” I smiled. “I loved it.” They all laughed and told me that I had been good.
The woman comes in and took me into the dressing room. “Get cleaned up,” she said and handed me a towel. “Then go back out there, and the photographer will give you something for what you did.”
I wiped myself off with the towel, then went back out into the room where the men were sitting. The photographer smiled at me and handed me some money. “Thank you,” he said. Then the other men came over and hugged me. “Good job,” they said.
I walked out of the room and felt happy. I had liked what they had done to me, and I was glad that they liked it too. Maybe I could do more modeling for them, or other men, and get paid for it too.
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