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Message-ID: <43262asstr$1057608607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Wynter2: Daddy's Student 02/05 {Hoisington} (Mg rom ped inc solo oral cons)
Date: Mon,  7 Jul 2003 16:10:07 -0400
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This is an erotic fantasy.  The characters and the situation are
purely imaginary, and this story is  **NOT** intended to be a
guide for actual behavior.  Any similarities between this story
and actual people or actual events you should be ashamed of are
purely coincidental.  If it is illegal in your part of the world
to access and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage, or if
you don't like underage sex stories, then you should stop now.

This story is copyright 2003 by Russell Hoisington.  Please do
not remove the author information or make any changes to this
story.  You may post freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in
the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your
consideration.



                           WYNTER KING 2:
                      DADDY'S LITTLE STUDENT
                      by Russell Hoisington

                              Three

     When Wynter returned with the empty urinal, he was already
asleep again.  She was glad that she'd put the bed down first,
rather than leaving him sitting upright while she cleaned the
container.  She hadn't even masturbated him after he was finished
urinating.   Or PEEING, as the grownups said among themselves. 
She put the urinal in its storage location and noted the time and
volume on his records for Nurse Carter.

     She had her own record keeping to perform now.  She'd fetch
a new hand-sized notebook and write down all those new grownup
terms she'd learned.  Just as soon as she finished with her
patient.  She rechecked the suspended casts.  If her father had
moved, they might be pulling his shoulders uncomfortably.  She
guessed "uncomfortably" was a relative term since they couldn't
be comfortable under any circumstances.  He'd wanted a pain pill
with his last meds.  He had been taking i-bu-pro-fin -- Wynter
wondered why she always had trouble saying that word.  He had
been saving the remaining few pain pills in case he needed some
and Nurse Carter was still trapped in town by the avalanche. 
Nurse Carter was trapped there because the pharmacist had
mis-read Doctor Taylor's yucky handwriting and had filled his
pain prescription with a laxative, and she had rushed to town in
the blizzard to get more pain pills.

     When Wynter was satisfied, she held her ponytail out of the
way as she leaned over to gently kiss him.  She slid her tongue
forward just enough to touch it to his lips, and he sighed
gently.  "I love you, Daddy," she whispered as she pulled back
and looked down his body.

     She saw the slight bulge in the sheet where his penis -- his
DICK -- was.  She moved around the cast and stood beside his
legs, gently lifting the sheet away to look at that ruddy three
inches of his body that made her father feel so good when she
JACKED HIM OFF.  She thought about that term and remembered her
father using a car jack once.  The hand movement was sort of the
same, so she supposed that was where the term came from.  She
decided to put that observation in her "Sexual Words" notebook
when she started it.

     She again felt the impulse to kiss his dick and took her
ponytail in her left hand.  The tingly feeling sprang to life
down THERE in her pussy, especially in her clitty, as she bent
forward with her coral lips puckered.  A wave of incredibly
strong HORNINESS washed over her when her lips touched his dick,
just as had happened before.

     A thought struck her as she was straightening.  She bent
forward and kissed his dick again, this time sliding her wet
tongue between her lips to caress the top side of it during the
kiss.  The first wave of horniness was like a candle compared to
the bonfire that exploded between her legs.  She needed one hand
to keep her ponytail from tickling her father and awakening him,
and the other to support her weight as she leaned forward on
rubbery knees, but she could achieve a little bit of relief with
THIGH MASTURBATION.  She squeezed her firm, slender thighs
together against her aching clitty and twisted and humped her
lower body.  It didn't feel nearly as good as her fingers in her
split -- her pussy, she corrected herself again -- but it helped
give some relief.

     His dick started to swell slightly and she stopped, lifting
to look at his face to see if she was awakening him before his
body said he'd had enough rest.  He hadn't moved, except for his
dick.  She used her nose to point it up his stomach, where she
could kiss the nerves on the bottom side, right where he'd told
her it felt best when she rubbed him with her hand.  When she
did, it grew a little more, until it wasn't hard yet, but it
wasn't soft anymore, either.

     On impulse, probably because she was thinking about her
father performing oral sex on her, she opened her mouth and let
half the head slide in.  The bonfire in her clitty became a
forest fire.  A moan exploded from her.  She suddenly grew scared
that she would awaken him too soon if she continued, though she
really didn't want to stop yet.

     But she was being childish in thinking about her needs
instead of her patient's.  She reluctantly removed her mouth and
gave him a soft, gentle kiss on the nerve spot.  She wondered if
it had a medical name and if grownups had another name for it.

     With his sheet back in place she again checked his casts and
eased across the hall to her room to find an unused notebook. 
Dragon moved the five feet from one door to the other.

     She sat in her chair at her desk, which she'd moved to the
wall by the door.  By leaning forward just a little she could see
through the facing doors and observe her sleeping father.  Her
patient, she corrected herself.  She was Daddy's nurse.  The last
time she'd masturbated him -- given him a HAND JOB -- she'd done
it for her father, but the first two times were for her patient. 
He was asleep now, and he was her patient again.

     But he'd said that after he slept a little bit, he'd become
her teacher and she'd be Daddy's student while he taught her
about oral sex.  She thought about having her father's dick in
her mouth and the forest fire blazed to life.  There was a
lingering salty taste, probably from the tiny amount of urine, or
PEE, remaining on his dick or in the -- the -- that "u" word. 
Urethra.  It sounded yucky to think about, but actually it wasn't
bad.

     She wondered if she'd taste salty to her father when he
stuck his tongue in her pussy, even though she carefully wiped
and blotted in the bathroom.  And she scrubbed her split really,
really good when she bathed, too.  Well, there was just one way
to find out.

     She was surprised to discover that her fingers were already
in her split, massaging the tiny hard stick of her clitoris. 
She'd even dragged some of her natural lubrication from her
vaginal opening to her clitty while she was rubbing it.  It was
only the second time she had used her fingers to masturbate and
already her body was acting without conscious thought on her
part.

     She'd better ask her father if that was okay when he woke
up.  She thought so, but there was so much about sex stuff that
he hadn't told her.  Grownups sure had to keep track of a lot of
information.

     She moved a finger to her vaginal opening -- her CUNNY, she
corrected herself.  Or was it?  She stared at the open notebook,
it's pages still unmarked except for the heading on the first
page, "Sex Terminology."  She liked the way that sounded grownup
-- much more so than "Sex Words."  Was her cunny just her vaginal
opening or all of the area inside her split?  Where did her pussy
quit and her cunny begin?  She grabbed a throwaway notepad and
scribbled her questions onto it so that she wouldn't forget to
ask her father.  That way she wouldn't have to make corrections
in the notebook.

     She was having trouble holding the pen while she wrote. 
Halfway through the first question she realized that her fingers
were wet with her natural lubrication, and it was really slick. 
She chastised herself -- another grownup-sounding word that she
liked -- for not paying more attention to what she was doing.  A
patient's life depended on his nurse paying strict attention to
the smallest details.

     She set the pen down and brought her fingertips to her nose. 
It didn't smell like urine, but it did smell like her split.  It
was a clean smell and not unpleasant.  She hoped that her father
wouldn't be disappointed or upset by it, though she had no idea
what he expected.  She worried that it was different from other
women's and that he wouldn't like it, but she couldn't think of
any way to find out except for her father to tell her.  And then
it would be too late.

     She eased the tip of her tongue out and lightly touched the
natural lubrication on her fingers.  She pulled her tongue back
in at the instant she knew it had touched the liquid.  She really
didn't taste anything.  She tasted again, leaving her tongue in
contact for almost half a second.  Strange, but not unpleasant.

     After a third try she coated her finger with more of the
natural lubrication in her split and put the finger in her mouth. 
She couldn't define the flavor, but she decided that it didn't
taste bad to her.  Of course, she still didn't know how it would
taste to her father when he ATE HER PUSSY.  She resumed worrying
about that as she used a tissue to wipe her fingers clean and
picked up the pen.  As she began writing, her left hand moved to
her pussy and a finger worked its way into her split to stroke
her hard little clitty.

     She tried really, really hard to keep from making noise that
would awaken her father when she came.                             
 Four

     Richard King slowly awoke from a dream about looking at
flowers while walking down a mountain trail with Wynter.  He
couldn't remember any more than that, but he remembered that he
was enjoying the moment.  Maybe he'd ask her if she wanted to go
for a walk with him, down to the flat rock by the creek where she
practiced her flute lessons.  They'd pick wildflowers -- flowers
were growing now, weren't they?

     He opened his eyes.  Past the ropes suspending his right arm
cast he saw the late spring blizzard was winding down to
scattered flakes, with the sun trying to break through the
clouds.  The real world crept back into his mind with all the
subtlety of a dynamite charge.

     He rolled his head to the left, expecting to see Wynter
sitting in the padded chair.  When she wasn't there, he tried to
lift his head high enough to see if she was in her sleeping bag
near the foot of his bed.  Movement beyond he door caught his
eye.  It was Dragon, getting up to turn a circle and lie down
again in her doorway.  The dog never left her side willingly,
except to make his "doggie trips" outside.  He always positioned
himself in a doorway so that she couldn't leave a single-exit
room without going past him, waking him if he were asleep.  In a
room with multiple exits, he would sometimes move from one to the
other at intervals.

     Beyond Dragon he saw her desk's new location and her slender
arms atop it.  She was writing in one of her notebooks.  Half of
a shelf in her bookcase was filled with her notebooks of various
sizes, each dedicated to a different topic ranging from recipes
-- she was already as good a cook as her mother -- to medical
conditions and treatments to wildlife to notes about piano and
flute techniques.  The latter two were in separate books, of
course.

     She even had at least one notebook with unlined pages where
she made sketches, though she was unaware that her parents knew
about that.  Angie had found it open on her desk one day, but
looked only at the open page.  It showed a sketch of Dragon with
a waterfall in the background.  Angie had told him about it,
saying that Wynter had shown talent in the sketch, but she didn't
know if it was a recent sketch or one that was a few years old. 
Richard wished he could have seen it, but Wynter had returned it
to the shelf by the time he'd returned home.  By that time, Angie
was exceptionally enraged with herself for having looked at the
drawing, but she'd been so surprised that she hadn't had time to
think until it was too late.

     They treated Wynter's notebooks the same as they'd treat her
diary if she kept one -- personal.  In effect, they were a diary,
just one in multiple volumes.  After twenty years Angie was still
furious over the time her older sister, Diana, had picked the
lock on her diary and read her most personal thoughts.  She felt
betrayed by her sister and swore that she'd never make Wynter
feel the same way.  Richard willingly agreed to treat Wynter's
notebooks the same, though he couldn't shake the feeling that if
he'd refused to do so, Angie would have shot him with the .38
Special she carried when hiking in the mountain forests.  The
only thing that had more importance to her than that betrayal was
Wynter and himself.

     Wynter's desk had sides that kept him from seeing her long
slender legs, firmly muscled and covered in creamy soft, pale
skin that had lost virtually all of last summer's tan.  They were
just beginning to show the signs of the sculpturing they would
have when she finished the transition from girl to woman.  And
that transition was well underway with her two small, wide-spaced
hemispheres that were so soft and yet so firm at the edges of a
ribcage that stood out in ripples like a washboard.  The narrow
waist that was pinching in above the soft flare of her hips.  The
wonderful, sexy little butt that had started rounding and filling
out, looking more woman-like than child-like now.  And the
prominent little mound with its thin covering of half-inch blonde
hair that started above the point of her sweet little slit and
was spreading in thin line down the soft-looking pillows of her
outer lips.

     He silently laughed at himself for being an idiot.  He had
known she was growing titties -- not only were the bulges visible
under her tighter blouses, but there were training bras in the
laundry that certainly didn't belong to Angie.  But it had never
occurred to him that she was also growing a mat of pussy hair on
that cute little cunt.  Cute was the operative word.  Richard had
never seen a prettier pecker playpen in his life.  If he could
sit down and draw up plans for his dream twat, he'd have Wynter's
on paper when he was done.

     The most exciting moment in his life to date had been
sucking on those incredibly exciting little titties.  And now,
unless she'd changed her mind, which he doubted, he was going to
have that little honeybox pressed down on his face.  If he could
keep her there until Ellen Carter was able to return from town,
it wouldn't be long enough.  If her could keep her there until
Angie returned from Europe, it wouldn't be long enough.  If he
could keep her there until the universe ended, it wouldn't be
long enough.

     Movement against the sheet told him that the Beast was
stirring, growing hard at the thought.  He wondered if he could
get her to suck his dick of her own accord -- he desperately
wanted her to suck him, but he wanted her to do so because SHE
wanted to do it, not because he wanted her to do so.  He emitted
a hybrid sound between a sigh and a moan that she didn't hear. 
But Dragon did.

     The dog's front half shot up from the floor, and he looked
over his shoulder at Richard.  That caused Wynter to lean forward
and look into his room.  Her mother hen face appeared in an
instant and she sprang from her chair.

     "Daddy, are you okay?  What's wrong?  Do you need something? 
Are you in pain?  Do you need a pill or just some water?"  The
questions began before she was out of her room.

     Richard tried desperately not to laugh.  The hormones
surging through her body made her even more sensitive than usual
to what she perceived as criticism, and even on her best days,
she was a perfectionist with a determination that could be almost
infuriating.

     "Honey, I'm fine.  I woke up was all.  I'm tired of
sleeping.  I guess Dragon heard me yawn or something."

     She was at his left shoulder, looking down at him over the
rise of those sweet, adorable young breasts with their creamy
smooth texture and the small pink cones rising from them.  He
couldn't believe the strength of the desire that his own
daughter's sprouting little sweater stuffers generated within
him.  He couldn't see her sweet little pussy now, but those
adorable titties were so wonderful that he didn't care.

     "Actually," he said, "I could use a sip of water.  And a
kiss, if you don't mind.  I'm sure my breath is worse than
Dragon's right now, so if you don't want to kiss me yet, you
don't have to."

     She put her fists on the gentle flare of her hips and stared
down, trying to look stern.  "Any woman who didn't want to kiss
you would have to be crazy.  And I'm NOT crazy!  Dragon says so."

     "Well, your mother's not crazy, either, and some mornings
she doesn't want to kiss me."

     "Maybe she just doesn't love you as much as I do."

     Before Richard could reply she realized what she had said. 
Her standard look of panic swept over her face, and words rushed
out in a jumble.  "Oh, Daddy, I'm sorry I said that!  I was just
teasing.  I didn't mean that Mother doesn't love you.  I didn't
mean to...."

     "Honey, it's okay.  Don't worry.  I know exactly what you
meant.  Okay?"  He wished his arms were free to encircle and
comfort her.  "Besides, maybe you DO love me more than she does. 
There's no way anybody can prove whether you're right or wrong
about that.  But the important thing is that you both love me
more than enough."

     The panicked look faded to puzzlement.  "More than enough?"

     "Sure.  You love me enough to make me feel warm and comfy
and good all over, but you also love me more than that.  I take
the more part and store it in here," he said, looking down at his
chest, "in my heart and that way I can still feel warm and comfy
and good all over when I'm not around you.  Like I have to do now
while your mother is overseas, and like I have to do when I go to
work."

     He said nothing while she thought about it for a moment, and
then was rewarded by slender arms flying around his neck and her
sweet coral lips lowering to kiss him.  "I have the nicest father
in the whole wide world," she said.  "And the nicest patient." 
It was a father/daughter kiss, with no tongue action, but Richard
didn't mind in the least.  It was the sweetest kiss imaginable.

     She flew back as if shocked.  "Oh, DRAT!  I forgot about
your water!"

     "No, you didn't."

     "Yes I did!  You asked for water and I...."

     "And you gave me what I needed the most first, and now
you're about to give me my water.  Just like a responsible adult
would do.  And what a good nurse would do."

     She apparently realized he was serious because she blushed
and her eyes dropped away from his.  She poured half a glass of
cold water from the insulated pitcher and put a bent straw in it. 
"I should raise the bed," she said.

     "Wait about that until after we talk.  I can drink it lying
down."

     After she put the empty glass back on the stand he had her
sit beside him on the bed.  His eyes swept over as much of her
body as he could see from his prone position.  "Honey, do you
still want me to eat your pussy?"

     He watched mother hen fight with personal desire behind her
eyes.  She slowly nodded.  "But only if it's not...."

     "Stop," he said, but with a gentle smile to ease the moment. 
He knew the routine that should keep her from feeling rebuked. 
"Recess is over.  Class is now is session.  I will call the roll
of students.  Wynter?"

     "Here."  Her head was down, but her eyes were on his and she
was smiling.  It had worked.

     "Good.  Everybody's present," he announced, while she
giggled as usual.  He tried to ignore the patterns her sweet
nipples traced when her ribcage quivered.  "Today's lesson is on
relationships between women and men.  I'll grant you that your
mother is better qualified to teach this from your perspective,
but I've been appointed substitute teacher for the day.  Any
objections?"

     "None," she said with a bright smile and a shake of her
head.  "You're better qualified than Mother to teach me from your
perspective."

     "Well, you know that, and I know that, but let's keep that
our secret and not tell your mother.  Okay?"

     "Okay," she said with another giggle.  There were times that
her mother insisted she knew more about men than her father did. 
Richard, of course, didn't even pretend to understand ANYTHING
about women.

     Richard again wished his arms were free.  It was difficult
lecturing without the ability to make gestures.  His father said
that the fault came from his mother's Italian blood.  "For a
relationship to work, the two people have to learn to be honest
with each other and to respect the other's opinions or wishes. 
Let's pull a random hypothetical scenario out of thin air."

     Wynter giggled again, knowing what was coming.

     "Let's say you are a nurse with a patient you love, and he
loves you.  He offers to eat your pussy, but he's concerned that
you might not want him to.  Let's say he's afraid that if you say
yes, it's because you're doing what you think he wants and not
what you want.  Let's say you want him to eat your pussy, but
you're afraid that if he does so, it's not what's best for him. 
Or maybe you don't want him to, but you're afraid that if you say
so, you will hurt his feelings.  Or maybe you want him to, but
you're afraid that he really doesn't want to.  Or he really
doesn't want to, but he's offering because he thinks that's what
you want.  Or -- hmmmm."

     He scrunched up his face and studied the ceiling as if in
deep thought.  "I think that's everything."  He shrugged.  "Well,
it's close enough.  Now, here's the key:  you HAVE to be totally
honest with each other.  You can't answer based upon what you
think the other person wants, and you can't be upset with what
the other person says.  Am I going to fast for you?"

     She shook her head, causing her blonde ponytail to lash
about.  "Those rattling marbles sounded like a negative
response," he said, causing another round of giggles.  Richard
knew from vast experience that as long as he could keep Wynter
laughing, she'd accept the message without feeling she was being
chastised.

     "A relationship, especially with someone you love, can't
work if you aren't sure whether the other partner is fibbing
about what he or she wants.  The first time you're not sure, it
causes a teensy little crack that you can't even see.  Every time
after that the crack gets a little wider until it's as big as the
vacant space between your Aunt Diane's ears."

     "Daddy!"  She tried to look stern, but it was hard to do
when she was doubled over in laughter.

     "Now, here's the important part of the lesson."  He waited
for her to stop laughing and give him her full attention.  It was
her cue that this was where she should pay complete attention. 
"The crack in the relationship can grow only so wide until the
relationship breaks apart.  Understand?"

     He waited.  No matter how obvious one of his lessons was,
Wynter always thought about what he had said to see if she could
find either hidden meanings or flaws in his logic.  After a
moment she nodded.  "You're saying you shouldn't offer unless
it's what you really want, and I shouldn't accept unless it's
what I really want, or else we'd risk our relationship."

     "Well, it's not about us.  It's purely a hypothetical
scenario.  It could be about you and your future husband.  Or
maybe between you and some boy you meet in college."

     Wynter looked puzzled.  "Why would some boy I met in college
want to eat my pussy?"

     Richard sighed.  Angie was in for some interesting
mother-daughter conversations when she returned.  "Let's save
that for another class because it takes us too far off this
lesson's topic."

     "Okay."  It was obvious that she was mentally filing the
question for later resurrection, undoubtedly BEFORE Angie
returned.  "What if one person wants to and the other doesn't and
they say so?"

     "Oh, good question!  We've been paying attention."  That
sideways compliment caused Wynter to duck her head, but this time
she kept her eyes on his and she smiled.  Richard was amazed that
this lesson was going so smoothly.  His little girl really was
growing up.  The change in just the short interval between the
time Ellen Carter called to say she'd been stranded in town and
now bordered on incredible.  Angie was going to accuse him of
switching daughters while she was gone.  <Well,> he thought, <she
should have realized that Wynter was growing up and done a better
job of talking to and preparing her.>  A moment later he
retracted that thought.  He hadn't even realized it himself.

     "The answer to that question is:  'It depends.'"  He waited
for the frown and then continued.  "There's no one fixed answer,
honey.  It all depends on the situation.  Sometimes one side will
give in, and sometimes the other will.  I guess the answer is
based on needs, though usually the "No" will be the deciding
answer."

     "Then, uh...."  Her face scrunched while she tried to think
of a way to word her question.

     "I'm your teacher and you're my student," he reminded her,
knowing what the question was.  "It's okay to ask anything."

     "Then you and Mother...."  She turned red and didn't finish
the sentence.  Her expression changed, and he realized she was
now angry with herself for blushing.

     "We love each other and we do what's best for both of us. 
Sometimes it's what she wants, sometimes it's what I want. 
Usually a no answer is followed by, 'But tomorrow...,' or 'In a
couple of hours...," or something like that."

     Wynter sighed.  "Why do grownups always have to make things
so complicated?"

     "To make our kids think we're smarter than they are," he
said as she reached for the edge of the sheet and pulled it down,
exposing the flaccid Beast.

     "Okay," she said as she took it in her warm, soft hand and
began gently pumping it back to life.  "If you think it's not too
early."  When he questioned that she replied, "Well, I
masturbated after you went to sleep, and I came again.  I'd like
for you to eat my pussy if you think I've rested long enough that
I can cum again."

     Something else Angie obviously hadn't told her.  "Honey,
women aren't like men.  We have to rest between orgasms, but
women can have one after another for as long as they can stand
it."

     Mother hen's face reappeared and turned to a look of horror. 
"That's not FAIR!"



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