Mating Dance
Story codes: Mg9, Mg12, Mgg, cons, illust, collab
Summary: A tantrum leads to unexpected fun for two young girls and one admiral. A collaborative work by author Admiral Cartwright and 3D artist lcKili.

The following work of fiction is written by Admiral Cartwright (a pseudonym) and illustrated by lcKili (a pseudonym) and presented for entertainment purposes only. Copyright © effective 2019. Distribution of this material or of any predecessor(s) is permitted, providing the authors’ identifying information is intact.

Distribution for profit is strictly forbidden.

Praise for Mating Dance

“Admiral, I’m soooo jealous! This is nice work, for sure.”

“That’s sooo freaking hot and kinda romantic, I love the characters you guys have created.”

“This truly blows my mind. The storyline is excellent, and the illustrations … well, I’ve just never had so much pleasure (on my own, that is!).”

“I like the collaboration idea, it keeps the momentum going forward too. Great job!”

“I fucking love it! As it sometimes happens with craft beer or experimental music, talents creating something out of mutual interests tends to be quite awesome.”

So, one day, I’m hanging out at Lolicit and a 3D artist nicknamed lcKili re-introduces one of his characters, Felicity. I mention that I have a character with the same name. In exchange for allowing me to (slightly) reimagine his character as my waifu, lcKili challenged me to write an erotic story which, given a logical progression, could only be the events leading to the wedding.

The backstory doesn’t match my original character, but a lot can change in three-plus years so, who knows?

Mating Dance

Mating Dance teaser
Teaser 3D Art: Showing Off for the Admiral

Scene One

“Sir? Please stay.”

The admiral stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether he should even acknowledge the girl’s plea, let alone turn back toward the sight that greeted him upon walking into the multi-purpose room at the recruitment centre. Seconds earlier, he saw a young girl sitting naked on a wet, red-stained floor, rocking an even younger girl who appeared to have latched onto a breast and was nursing in the middle of the room. A crisp about-face and attempt to leave had evoked the plea; high-pitched, but calm.

“Please? I need help.”

The Navy officer turned, slowly, not sure what to expect. His eyes had not deceived him; the girl, who looked twelve, maybe thirteen, was sitting in a puddle—one of many—of some reddish liquid, cradling a girl of nine or so, who was literally nursing on the older girl. Finding his voice, the admiral said, “What can I do?”

“There’s clothes in the sink. They’re going to stain if you don’t wash the Kool-Aid out of them. Please?”

The admiral’s eyes quickly found the sink and the soiled garments, then scanned the floor. So, that’s what the liquid was; good, at least it’s not blood. He walked to the sink and began tending to the clothes—dance outfits, it looked like. He vaguely recalled the earlier conversation with his old friend, the Navy recruiter, who mentioned in passing that his daughter was teaching dance classes here.

Mating Dance Scene One
Scene One 3D Art: I Need Your Help

Scene Two

Turning back toward the girls, he got his first good look at the daughter, an incredibly good-looking young woman with short, dark hair, green eyes, and amazing little titties, one of which was currently occupied. The younger girl, a blonde, was also nude; her outfit was in his hands under running cold water, but he was busy staring at the girl-flesh that was bringing his admiral’s mast to life.

“You gonna water the floor?” the older girl asked, grinning, her full lips stretched acro—oh, shit, the water! The admiral turned back to his duty, a knowing smile greeting him each time he turned back toward the girls—when she wasn’t wincing in pain at the girl chewing on a nipple.

Rinsed out and wrung out, the clothes were hung from a portable barre, and the admiral walked carefully toward the girls and sat, trying to conceal the raging hard-on he’d been sporting almost since he’d first walked in. He failed; the blonde noticed, let go of the older girl’s tit, and grabbed a handful of admiral-cock, stroking it firmly through the material of his uniform trousers, clearly familiar with the concept of a hard penis. As if that wasn’t sufficiently shocking, the admiral’s fly was opened moments later, and a hot mouth had engulfed him, taking half his length.

He looked toward the older girl, who was getting an eyeful of a mouthful. “Just gonna let her suck your cock, huh?”

“Well, seems she wants it, why would I argue?” the admiral smirked.

“Felicity,” she said, offering her hand. “Cartwright,” he responded, taking it.

Mating Dance Scene Two
Scene Two 3D Art: Pleased to Meet You

Scene Three

Felicity, the daughter of Cartwright’s old friend the recruiter, lay back on the floor, ignoring the puddles underneath her back. “My boob hurts,” she cooed. “Make it better.”

No preliminaries with these two, Cartwright smirked. He leant back into a puddle all his own and took the girl’s breast gently into his mouth, letting his tongue wash over her inflamed nipple, trying both to cool the pain and offer some pleasure. Felicity’s neck relaxed, her head finding the floor, her hand finding the back of the admiral’s head, and her other hand making its way to her pussy, soaking wet from something that was definitely not Kool-Aid. She came quickly, her back arching and driving a small but well-developed young tit deeper into the admiral’s mouth.

It was too much to take. Cartwright’s orgasm was explosive, flooding the blonde girl’s mouth with spurt after spurt of his hot semen as a star field danced across his retinas in time with his convulsions.

Felicity was still twitching in the afterglow of her own orgasm when the blonde finally let loose of the admiral’s cock, sat up, wiped her mouth, slid over between Felicity’s legs, and took the older girl’s clit between her lips, slurping with a practised intensity that immediately drew Felicity’s hand to the back of the girl’s head as another orgasm slammed into the perfect preteen, whose squeal was somewhere between little girl and professional porn star.

Just what the hell have I gotten myself into? Admiral Cartwright mused, looking down at his still-hard member.

Mating Dance Scene Three
Scene Three 3D Art: Felicity Double-Teamed

Scene Four

Cartwright wasn’t the only one who noticed his unflagging arousal—the tiny blonde had once again wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, this time to clean off Felicity’s orgasm, and moved almost mechanically to straddle the admiral’s hips, wide enough to keep her knees off the floor as she lined up the tip of Cartwright’s cock with her young flower.

The admiral was just a fraction late in reacting, but it was enough. “Wait! That’s not going to f—”

But it did. All the way to the hilt. “Fit,” he finished, lamely.

The tiny girl with the impossibly forgiving vagina leant forward slightly, her hands finding Cartwright’s still-powerful chest, and began riding as if she’d fucked for years. He didn’t even see Felicity lean over him at first.

“So, you’re just going to let her fuck you, huh?”

Cartwright laughed so loudly that the tiny blonde backed away for a moment, then resumed her bronco ride. Felicity, meantime, finished leaning in and kissed him gently, lovingly, passionately, intensely. Cartwright took one hand off a tiny, bucking hip and placed it on the back of Felicity’s head, their kiss adding to the rush of blood to his midsection, leaving him slightly light-headed, perhaps giddy for the first time in his many years.

Was he falling in love with a 12-year-old girl?

Mating Dance Scene Four
Scene Four 3D Art: Just Let Her Fuck You?

Scene Five

The tiny girl riding admiral-cock for all she was worth had begun keening, as if chasing an orgasm that wouldn’t cum.

“I’m going to stand up,” Cartwright announced to no one in particular, then sat up, held the blonde in place, stood with some effort, cock firmly implanted in immature cunt, and walked to a table, where he lay the girl on her back. The perfect height for a real pounding, the admiral held her legs apart and did exactly that, slamming into the girl’s cervix with each stroke.

Felicity stood to the side for a moment, then knelt down to take one of the younger girl’s tiny breasts into her mouth, a sensuous view quickly blocked from the admiral’s eyes by the older girl’s short, dark hair.

An even better view was quickly forthcoming as Felicity moved a hand to the blonde’s pussy, flicking and diddling her tiny clit with a practised expertise that shouldn’t have surprised Cartwright, but did. His cock was sliding effortlessly in and out of the tiny vagina just underneath, and the blonde’s keening had changed to a more guttural moan, her orgasm finally arriving with uncontrolled tremors that Cartwright could feel envelop his own body, climaxing in his second expulsion of semen into this young, yet clearly experienced, cum receptacle.

Mating Dance Scene Five
Scene Five 3D Art: Blonde Double-Teamed

Scene Six

It took several minutes for the three to catch their breaths, including Felicity, who seemed to have cum again herself, by way of her other hand. When Cartwright’s ‘admiral’ had softened and plopped out of the blonde’s used, but still tiny, pussy, she sat up and reached out to him as if to be let down off of the table. He obliged.

“C’mon, Martina, let’s see if our clothes are dry,” Felicity said, and the girls walked to the barre where their dance outfits had been hanging.

Martina, the admiral mused. Is that the first time I heard her name?

Cartwright quickly came to his senses. “Ladies, don’t get dressed yet,” he said, sounding more like an order than he’d intended.

As the girls turned back to face him, Cartwright took full stock of them for the first time. Martina, the little blonde, didn’t look a day over nine, but she’d already begun to develop: tiny but growing breasts and an ample midsection topping legs that were somewhere between baby fat and a woman’s gams. She looked almost like a smaller version of Felicity.

Ah, Felicity. Cartwright’s eyes truly lingered on the older girl’s form, which she displayed almost proudly, her hands clasped behind her back, her hips thrust slightly forward. Small but perfect breasts, tiny areolae tipped by good-sized nipples, almost red in colour—especially the one Martina had been chewing on when he first walked in on the girls. A slight pudge to her belly, rounded hips, full thighs. Felicity could have been a petite woman—and she was perfect. Perfect. The admiral felt that tugging at his heart again, one he hadn’t felt in years.

But there was unfinished business. “Your clothes will wait. There’s Kool-Aid all over you, all over the floor, all over the table. That will not do. Not at all. Felicity, I need to chat with your dad. You two need to clean up. Understood?”

Felicity marched—actually marched—back toward Cartwright and snapped to attention, her eyes forward, her arms to her sides, her hands cupping unseen rolls of coins; a near-perfect military stance that was not at all mocking. “Yes, SIR!”

Cartwright smiled in spite of himself, performed a crisp about-face, and left the girls to their duty.

Mating Dance Scene Six
Scene Six 3D Art: Yes, SIR!

Scene Seven

“You are not going to believe what I walked in on,” Cartwright began.

Larry Styles leant back into the corridor wall, the same one he’d nearly fallen into after almost colliding with the admiral on his way out of the can. “Uh oh …” he started, smirking slightly.

Cartwright painted the scene in the next room in meticulous detail, from the nude girls, to ‘nursing’ Martina, to the younger girl’s expert fellatio, cunnilingus and unbridled fuck, all of it as if it was expected of her. Felicity’s expert frigging of Martina’s little pussy, finally bringing the girl off.

And, the kiss. That amazing kiss. It was the first time he’d seen Felicity in years—she is twelve, that’s right—and they’d kissed like young lovers.

Styles shifted his feet several times during this hot exposition—and Cartwright had no doubt why.

“Larry, I have to ask,” the admiral began. “Martina, clearly, is someone’s fuck toy. Your daughter, clearly, had no problem with that. I know …” He hesitated. “I know we two, you and I, share a … an appreciation, let’s say, for the younger set. How far have you and Felicity gone?”

Styles was indignant, but only slightly. “We’ve never fucked,” he said simply.

“That’s not an answer,” Cartwright smiled.

Styles smiled back. “Okay, Admiral Asshole,” he teased, “Felicity is an incredibly sexual being. Got it from her mother, I’d have to guess. She told me one day that she’d been with several girlfriends, but none of the boys she knew was worthy—that’s how she put it, worthy—of her, and she really wanted to experience her first cock. I tried to talk her out of it, but I was really trying to talk myself out of it, I suppose.”

“You failed, then.”

Styles laughed. “Failed completely. I’ve adamantly refused to fuck her—and she later decided against it anyway—but, goddamn if she doesn’t give better head than anyone else I ever knew …” Styles trailed off, the memory of one particularly hot blowjob while still in her school uniform lingering.

“Wow. Better than me, even?”

“Well, okay, anyone else but you. But that’s the funny part: she took that as a challenge.”

Cartwright blinked. “You told her?”

“It slipped out, sorry. But she thinks it’s cool, being completely bisexual herself. I should’a figured.”

“Don’t sweat it, buddy,” Cartwright said, “but I’m not sure how you’re going to react to this next part.”

Styles raised an eyebrow.

“That kiss,” the admiral continued. “It was the sweetest, hottest kiss I’ve ever been given. By anyone. This is going to sound completely stupid, but I think I’m …” He trailed off.

“You think you’re what?”

“I think I’m falling in love with your daughter.”

Mating Dance Scene Seven
Scene Seven 3D Art: Styles Gets Great BJ

Scene Eight

Styles stood silently as the door to the multi-purpose room opened, revealing two young girls, still clad in almost nothing. “We’re done cleaning up, sir,” Felicity announced without a trace of sarcasm. Her father, who’d been speechless, suddenly found his voice. “Felicity Jean! Where are your clothes, young lady?! Go get dressed!”

“Why?” Felicity asked, smiling sweetly.

Larry Styles shook his head, slowly smiling himself. “Yeah. Okay. Good point.”

Cartwright took over, as admirals do, no nonsense. “Girls, get dressed and ready for inspection. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Felicity motioned for Martina to stay put and marched instead to her father. “Permission to kiss the admiral, captain, sir?” She asked.

This time, there clearly was a touch of sarcasm.

Styles looked at his close friend and superior officer, then back to his daughter. “You’ll have to ask the admiral.”

A couple of steps and crisp left-face brought Felicity face-to-chest with Admiral Cartwright. “Permission to kiss you, sir?”


Felicity Styles stepped forward, put her arms over Cartwright’s shoulder as he leant down, and surprised her father—and a newly aroused Martina—with a kiss the likes of which even he had never seen, a slow build-up of lips, tongues, hands in hair, and a growing hard-on that could have been seen through an ancient mariner’s telescope, half the ocean away.

Even after the girls had turned the corner and were out of sight, Styles’ own erection was so painfully constrained in his uniform pants that it was perhaps the only thing that kept him from spurting in his skivvies.

Mating Dance Scene Eight
Scene Eight 3D Art: Permission Granted

Scene Nine

“I don’t know when Martina’s parents are coming to pick her up, so maybe we should think about something a little less sexy,” Cartwright snickered, gesturing toward the obvious tenting in Styles’ pants. Styles made a gesture as if beckoning for some relief; Cartwright snickered again, and shook his head no.

“Party pooper,” Styles laughed. “That’s okay, I have work to do anyway.” The recruiter made an entirely un-military right-face and stepped through the door to the main office, closing it behind him.

At that moment the double glass doors separating the multipurpose room from the parking lot opened and a man walked inside. Cartwright chose to remain in the corridor rather than make for an odd scene, and saw Martina quickly take her place at the man’s side. Felicity was paid and thanked, and the pair walked out; the man didn’t see the admiral, but Martina did, and offered a slight smile.


Any potential problems having just left, Cartwright re-entered the room and found Felicity making a notation in a ledger and placing it inside a small cash box. She looked up as he approached and offered a bright “Hi!”

“Hi, yourself,” Cartwright smiled in return. “So, dare I ask what happened in here today?”

“Martina happened. When she signed up for my class she asked a bunch of her friends to come, too. Nobody else showed up.”

“Damn,” the admiral muttered, circling the room, stopping briefly to lock the doors to the parking lot—something he suddenly realised he should have done a long time ago. The girls, meanwhile, had cleaned up well. “So that was all a tantrum?”

“Yeah. She knocked all the cups over and got Kool-Aid everywhere, I mean everywhere, and just stood there all pissed and stuff. I took our clothes off and threw ’em in the sink, and I turned around and she was on the floor, crying. I sat down and tried to give her a hug, and she just started sucking a tit. Girl’s got some teeth,” Felicity finished, rubbing her nipple.

“And that’s when I walked in?”


Cartwright hesitated; the scene had gotten entirely weird from there. “How long … I mean, is Martina a friend of yours?”

“Just met her today.”

“Wow,” Cartwright shook his head. “I don’t know quite how to say this, but obviously she’s someone’s sex toy.”

“I coulda guessed that,” Felicity chuckled. “You didn’t seem to care.”

“Well, like I said, she took the lead, so, why not? Too young for me, though.”

“Really? Your cock didn’t think so. You fucked her pretty good.”

Cartwright laughed. “Yeah. I guess I did. But, still …”

“Am I too young for you?” The question.

“No. Am I too old for you?”

“I dunno,” Felicity teased. “You are kind of a dinosaur.”

“Ouch! That hurt,” Cartwright grabbed his chest in mock distress, then grabbed his hardening cock through his pants. “This dinosaur still works. That table is just the right height. You wanna see how young I still am?”

Felicity playfully covered her crotch with both hands. “I’m waiting until I get married.”

“You want to get married, then?” The words were out of Cartwright’s mouth before he realised what he was saying; and yet, he found himself completely unwilling to take them back.

The expression on Felicity’s face was a complete jumble: eyebrows up, half a smile, her eyes—her big, beautiful, green eyes—boring holes through the admiral’s own. She saw honesty. She saw love.

He meant it.

Mating Dance Scene Nine
Scene Nine 3D Art: He Means It!

Scene Ten

Felicity took a couple of steps forward, never taking her eyes off Cartwright’s, and reached for his zipper. The ‘admiral’ was indeed at full mast, and her hands brought him aft, their soft heat enveloping him, gently, lovingly. Finally, Felicity smiled, and took to her knees.

Cartwright already had been given expert head this day, but Martina’s technique had seemed rehearsed, mechanical. Felicity could not have been more different; sure, she knew exactly what she was doing, but there was a genuine passion to her ministrations. She read his body language; responded to breaths, sounds, muscles; she took him deep and held him there, massaging him with her throat.

I’ve already cum twice. This can’t be happening.

The admiral’s body took that bet, a familiar boiling in his balls that nearly took over his knees as it peaked. Somehow he kept from collapsing as he exploded a third time, him growling, her purring, tasting the first of what would be many rewards from Cartwright’s still-active duty.

When finally he regained his senses, Cartwright was looking once again into the eyes of his impossibly perfect young lover. Their kiss to follow tasted of him, and the admiral literally could not have cared less. When Felicity’s heels found the floor, their eyes met once again. Cartwright smiled.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then.”

It was not a question.

Mating Dance Scene Ten
Scene Ten 3D Art: Full Staff


The wedding was just … weird. Family showed up that Cartwright didn’t even know he had. Styles gave his daughter away, then took his place to perform the vows—Captain’s prerogative, and all that.

Felicity had invited her entire dance class and, out of nineteen students, five girls and one boy showed up with their parents. Cartwright was a bit reticent about the moms and dads being here—after all, he was marrying a 12-year-old—but in her gown and veil, she looked like a petite version of any other bride; if anyone had any objections, none was voiced or seen.

With one exception.

Martina’s guardian looked daggers at Cartwright the whole time. Afterward, while shaking hands, the man leaned forward and whispered into the admiral’s ear, “I know what you did with my girl.”

Unbowed, Cartwright whispered back, “yep—and you should hear her when she cums.”

The man’s glare got even more intense—and yet, it was betrayed by a slight upturn of his lips. They both knew this was the last ever to be said about it.

The honeymoon began on the admiral’s private yacht with a sight he would never forget: Felicity Jean Cartwright, his young bride, still in her garter and hose, lying on his bed.

Correction: their bed.

Cartwright climbed onto the mattress as Felicity opened her legs to accept him. Suddenly, she covered her vulva and clamped her knees back shut. “I dunno about this,” she said, brow furrowed. “I’m having second thoughts …”

Sitting back on his haunches, the admiral felt his jaw drop. Just as suddenly, Liss burst out laughing.

“Oh, my god! You gotta see your face right now!” she blurted between gasps.

Cartwright began tickling the girl mercilessly until her legs opened. He lined up their sex organs, pushed firmly, and slid right in to her slick, scorching wetness.

Second thoughts, my ass, Cartwright thought, smiling.

Finally! Felicity’s big, beautiful eyes responded.

“I love you, my bride.”

“I love you too, old man.”

Cartwright pounded into her, hard. “Young enough to handle you,” he smirked.

“You’d better be,” she sighed, her orgasm building.

The honeymoon began on the couple’s private yacht. Where it would end, they had no idea. Or care.

Mating Dance Epilogue
Epilogue 3D Art: All Aboard

Stories Index   Email the Admiral