Message-ID: <22501asstr$948978603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: Saynesberry@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <12.151fce5.25c14c8b@aol.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: {ASSM} Danny and Me (Mf, intergen, masturbation, romantic, light pedo) Date: Thu, 27 Jan 2000 08:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/22501> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar Danny and Me (Adult m/teen f; romantic; masturbation; light pedo) Okay, okay, I've talked about the past; now it's time to talk about the present. It's time to talk about Danny: my friend, my lover, and my angel. Sixteen-year-old Danny, who came to me on a bitter winter evening and captured my heart as she offered me her soft, pliant, trembling virginity. Danny, who literally came to me through the air, and lifted my heart as she moaned and sighed and wiggled her little body on my 40-year-old cock..... After years of hesitation, I had finally sat down and written a true account of some of my experiences, so very long ago, with a tiny young girl. I submitted the account to the appropriate website, and went on about my business; although writing about sex might be fun, it is not my livelihood, and all of us are the prisoners of *real life.* I received several very kind responses from readers who had enjoyed and/or identified with my account; I treasured each one, having never expected anything but condemnation for my long-ago affair. But the E-mailed notes and letters did not change my life, until I received one from Danny. She was barely sixteen, and lived a thousand miles from my home; but through the words we cast out into the night air on the Internet, we somehow connected, and touched one another, and began to come together - - and come and come and come. I will not reveal the secret things she told me about her tender young life and her background, but suffice it to say that my account of passion and pain between a grown man and a little girl had stirred her, and moved her, and caused her to confide in me. Through the electronic medium of *chat,* we began to communicate in real time, and though we had not yet seen each other's faces, we began to squeeze and lick and pump one another's imaginations, and soon, in the mysterious way of the computer age, we were *on-line lovers.* And yet, and yet...our passions were inflamed, and briefly sated, but ultimately unresolved. I could not touch my Danny, and she could not touch me; so we began to exchange photographs. We saw each other, finally, flickering in the blue light of our computer monitors; and although I only saw her in the most innocent of snapshots, she saw me naked and erect, and I began to send her very carefully selected images from various online pornographic archives. As we *chatted* at night, she would look at the bronzed, muscular young studs I sent her way, and drink in the hard-core scenes of fucking and sucking, and I would use my imagination to *see* her, as we sat in our secret corners and touched ourselves. "I'm coming now," she would say, "oh God oh God, look at that, oh God, please fuck me now, oh please...." and somehow, we would swell and throb and burst together, a thousand miles apart, yearning for each other. We asked no unwelcome questions and make no impossible demands. But we loved.... Then, after several months, I had occasion to visit a large city near her home. I alerted her to my trip in advance, and we began to feverishly plan our first *real* rendezvous. Now it would change; now, instead of electronic moans in the cool midnight, our bodies would finally touch, and blend. What was she looking for? A *father figure,* certainly; an older man who would take her and hug her and baby her, while slowly undressing her and ravishing her little body with forbidden passion. And I was looking for....well, as I now know, I was looking for Danny. By prearrangement, for Danny's peace of mind and security, we met at a shopping mall. She was likely to recognize me by my photograph, but just in case, I wore a yellow rose in the lapel of my sport coat. When the revelation finally came, I was standing in a Waldenbooks, thumbing through a dictionary of a foreign language I had been studying. I wasn't watching the clock, but a few minutes before I had expected her, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder; I snapped the dictionary shut, turned around, and there she was, smiling a shy, embarrassed smile. "Are you him?" she asked in a trembling, trying-to-be-brave little voice. I smiled and reached out, taking her hands in mine, and replied, "Yes, Danny, I'm him." She smiled sheepishly, and hand-in-hand we walked out of the bookstore, into the mall. "Would you like to get something to eat?" I asked. "Oh, no thank you, I've already eaten," she answered. "Well, then," I said, "Shall we go to my hotel and talk?" She looked momentarily shocked. "H-hotel?" she stammered. "Well, yes, Danny," I responded, "Weren't you expecting to - - " "Oh, it's not that, she said. "But my parents are out of town, and I have the house all to myself for the weekend. I really kind of hoped..." she looked down, blushing, "I really kind of hoped you could come see my room." I squeezed her hand tight. I certainly had no objection! I put one arm around her shoulder and we walked out to my rented car. "I think that would be lovely, Danny. I've wanted to see your room!" As we drove to her parents' home, I glanced at the child from time to time. She was probably no more than 5'4"; I had seen her soft, short brown hair and her wide brown eyes in the photos, but I was unprepared for the rest. Dressed in an unusually demure skirt and blouse, wearing no makeup at all, she was a vision of budding womanhood, while at the same time a gorgeous, glorious child. Her small breasts pressed against the soft cashmere of her blouse; her little torso narrowed at the waist and then provocatively blossomed into an adolescent's hips and thighs. She was wearing sandals, and her toenails were painted with a baby-pink nail polish. When we reached her house, she showed me around briefly, then we proceeded to her bedroom. Once there, the rest of the house abandoned and silent, she looked up at me and smiled. "Here we are!" she said. It was a room like any other teenager might have, with the customary dressing table and cork bulletin board and stuffed animals. In the corner, on a table of its own, sat her computer, the screen-saver gleaming with the image of a beautiful pop singer named....well, that doesn't matter. She was Danny's favorite; and now, and forever, she's mine, too! Danny smiled again and kicked off her sandals. "Are we gonna...you know, uh...." "Get comfortable?" I laughed. "Yes, please, let's do! But first, there's something I need to do." "Oh, okay," she said, nodding to the nearby bathroom. "It's right over there." "Not that, silly!" I laughed, and, without another word, swept her little body into my arms, and bent my head, and gave her a long, slow kiss on the lips. She stiffened at first, then softened, and put her arms around me. I gently probed my tongue between her full, moist lips, and cupped her little behind in one hand, gently kneading the warm, girlish flesh through her woolen skirt. She moaned slightly and met my tongue with hers, then moved her own little hands down and clasped my butt. We kissed for a long time. Finally, I broke our embrace. "Now, Danny," I said, my voice shaking somewhat, "I'll tell you what I'd like for you to do. I want you to take off your skirt and your blouse and go wait for me on the bed." She smiled, blushing, and bobbed her head. Then she walked over to her bed, pulled back the covers, and quickly did as I had asked. She sat down on the bed, her hands folded in her lap, and looked at me expectantly. With no further words, I took off my sport coat and draped it over the chair in front of her computer. I turned to face her, and, kicking off my loafers, began to slowly peel off my shirt, my trousers, and finally my undershorts, until I stood in her little-girl room completely nude. Needless to say, my cock was standing fully erect, and the child's eyes widened as she saw it for the first time. I walked over, bent down, and kissed her gently. Her naked shoulders shook slightly, and her firm, perky little breasts jiggled with the movement inside her lacy pink bra. I stood up straight again, and looking down at her, smiling, I moistened my palm with saliva and began to stroke my stiff, wobbling cock. Her eyes became heavy, dreamy, as she watched me, her face crimson with an uncontrollable blush, and her hands unclasped and slowly dropped to her pink cotton panties. She spread her thighs slightly and began to rub at herself through the flimsy material. I stood for a minute, stroking myself, watching this glorious child as a telltale spot of moisture began to darken the crotch of her panties. Then I moved to the bed and gently shoved her down on her back, her head resting on the fluffy pillows, her eyes wide and glistening with expectation. We had envisioned this moment so many times: she had masturbated greedily in the shower, thinking of my words and pictures, and of course I had done the same, lying on my bed at home, the pale glow of the computer illuminating my rigid, upright cock as I pumped and pumped and yearned for the perfect little girl who now lay before me. I sat down beside her and bent my head to her tummy, peppering it with kisses, simultaneously stroking her soft brown hair and kneading one of her firm, hot thighs. Then I slipped off the shoulder-straps of her bra, and pulled the cups down, freeing her impudent little breasts, drinking in the sight of her jutting, pink, passion-swollen nipples. She was a child, yet not a child; a woman, but certainly not a woman; she was Danny, and in that moment she was mine. "My little girl," I breathed. She opened her mouth, but did not speak. I tugged at the bra until it came loose, then dropped it to the floor; she was naked now, from the waist up, her perfect little breasts trembling in anticipation of the dreams that would now become reality. "My darling little girl, my little baby Danny," I murmured, and she sighed, looking at me with childish adoration. I ran the palm of my hand over her breasts, one at a time, the little nipples hard and hot against my skin. My hand moved down across her ribcage to her little tummy, where it rested for a moment, while I continued to stroke myself with my other hand. Then I slipped my thumb inside the waistband of her panties, and tugged them off with a single quick motion. She sighed again, and reaching out one perfect little hand, lightly gripped the head of my cock in her fingertips. Her little fingers explored the blood-engorged head, squeezing it, tickling it, rubbing the already-leaking little hole with a single finger; her thighs parted, and I looked down at her in all her nakedness. "My little girl," I sighed, sliding my hand over her furry little mound, then clasping it around one of her thighs. As I squeezed her leg, I allowed my thumb to tickle her mound, right over her moist, blushing pussy, tweaking and tickling the curly brown fuzz until she let out a little yelp. "Oh, Daddy!" she cried. Then she caught herself, and looked at me with momentary surprise; had she said the wrong thing? "Y-you will be my Daddy, won't you? I mean, if I'm your little girl...." I could no longer restrain myself. This child was all I had ever longed for; she was perfection. I lay down on the bed beside her, my cock throbbing and leaking against her thigh, and began to kiss her: first her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then each blushing cheek, then down over her chin and her soft, throbbing throat; then down to her breasts, sucking them into my mouth passionately, urgently, joyously. Her little nipples twitched and darkened under my hot breath and probing tongue, and she wrapped her arms tight around my shoulders and neck, clutching me in a clumsy, fervent, childish embrace. I cupped her pussy in my hand, and continued to kiss down across her flat, quivering tummy, into her coppery pubic hairs, then down finally, inevitably, to her bold tingling, teenaged clit, which I sucked into my mouth and bathed in my saliva. I brought up my hand and slipped two fingers deep into her tight, virginal pussy, and her little hips writhed and bobbed beneath my touch. "Ummmmggghhh!" she moaned, "mmmm, oh, Daddy!" Her pussy, burning hot and beginning to ooze, clutched at my fingers; her little ass began to lift off the mattress, then fall down again. There were so many things I wanted to do, so many things we had talked about, rehearsed endlessly in our midnight chats! But now, face-to-face with this perfect little lover, I lost control. I had wanted to lick her, and suck her, and worship her little pussy with my tongue and eyelashes and my hot, quick breath; I had wanted to press her into the bed and gently, slowly bury my cock deep in her little twitching ass; and of course I had wanted to stand over her, her short brown hair clutched in my fingers, and guide her mouth to my mammoth, engorged prick; I wanted to see her pink little lips wrapped around my shaft, and feel her darting little tongue and her tiny white teeth nibble at my cock-head; I had wanted to lay her out in the bathtub and wash her, head to toe, as though she were two years old, pausing only to fuck her, there in the churning, soapy water, with my fingers; I wanted to suck her little pink toes and suck at her pink, quivering asshole; I wanted to lay back and let her explore my 40-year-old body inch by inch, satisfying her girlish curiosity in any way she chose. And I would have; I would have done anything she asked; I would have opened my veins and spilled out my hot life's blood if that would please her, and if she would only reward me with a kiss. But now, at this moment, I could not do those things. My heart and my mind and my big hot cock were one, and, moving over on top of her. I pulled her legs wide and began to push myself into her waiting, dripping young pussy. "Daddy!" she cried, clutching me in her arms. I pushed and pushed, meeting only temporary resistance as my cock met her silky, sheer virginity, then pushed again and bust right through, burying myself deep within the squealing girl-child, our pubic hair mashed together, our groins banging together, my heavy, hot balls slapping against her puckered little anus; and she squealed again, and I kept thrusting, in and out, back and forth, until finally my prick swelled and throbbed and she sensed my coming orgasm, oh yes she did, and she dug her fingertips into my asshole, a virgin no more, and we rocked together for three, four, five minutes, until, in one spectacular, never-to-be-repeated moment, we came, her juices boiling around my exploding cock, my semen squirting deep to the seat of her womanhood, and she screamed, and screamed, and we came, and came, mumbling and fumbling and finally gasping and laughing, bathed in sweat, awash with love, a very fortunate man and his perfect little girl, united at last in the sticky, steamy bonds of lust. That was the first time.... -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+