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Message-ID: <50070asstr$1104628203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Russell Hoisington" <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} G'Night, Pixie 04/06 {Hoisington} (MF Mf solo oral anal group inc cons M/reluc caution)
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Date: Sat,  1 Jan 2005 20:10:03 -0500
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                          G'NIGHT, PIXIE
                        Russell Hoisington

  ************************************************************

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 that 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 sex stories, then stop now.

This story is copyright 2004 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.  That does NOT mean that
they are in the public domain, nor does it mean that I give
permission for you to use them in spam advertising.  I reserve
the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by MY
definition, not yours or anyone else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

  ************************************************************


                               Four
                             Secrets

     The first week passed in an organized chaos of digging,
diving, and dirt displacement.  By its end the cabin had been
made generally livable.  Doug had patched the leaks in the clay
tile roof, ending the drips that accompanied the daily afternoon
showers.  All had cleaned the grime from its interior.  The
shutters were functional, thanks to new nylon rope hinges, and
could be closed in case of another storm.  The mosquito netting
had been repaired and draped over the bed.  Doug had used the
nylon rope to weave a mattress support over the bed frame.  The
old mattresses were relegated to the pile of flammables that
would be the signal fire.  He had made a new mattress from the
small ones in the sunken boat.  Since the repaired netting wasn't
large enough to cover both the bed and the cot, they all slept in
the bed.  Doug insisted that Mary sleep in the middle.
 
     He had dug a new privy pit and moved the outhouse over it. 
He also fastened a plastic toilet seat from the boat into place
to preclude the discomfort of finding another protruding
splinter.  Alyson, of course, was unhappy that the only toilet
paper found had been on the spindle and had dissolved into a
soggy mess.  Mary's joke about having no Sears and Roebuck
catalog went completely over her head, resulting in the standard
Weirdo Parents Contemplating Their Ages while Shaking Their Heads
at the Uncomprehending Daughter situation.
 
     The outhouse was a source of philosophical diversion for
Doug.  Welch had put no door in the opening between the bedroom
and the rest of the cabin, indicating not only that he lived
alone but also that he didn't have visitors.  Yet he'd put a door
on the outhouse.  What did that say about the mind of Man?
 
     Doug had made a raft from limbs and small tree trunks to aid
in the salvage operation.  The second day of diving he'd used the
raft to carry a crowbar from the generator shed out to the wreck
and had pried open the emergency locker.  He had two inflatable
life rafts and the wooden raft to complete the salvage operation. 
His timing was excellent:  the second lung ran out of air as he
was bringing up the final load.
 
     He had salvaged the remaining canned food from the wreck. 
Mary had already found bananas, coconuts, papayas, breadfruit,
yams, and taro root.  That plus what they caught from the sea
would easily sustain them for two or three months.  By then Mary
would have identified more edible plants, if they were still
stranded.  He didn't want to think about that possibility, but he
was a pragmatist.
 
     All had deck shoes to wear now, making exploring of the
forest easier.  All salvaged clothing had been washed free of the
saltwater in the stream, dried, and packed away in three plastic
or nylon suitcases for later use.  Doug had found his medical bag
and one first aid kit.  The other kit had broken loose and
floated away.  Mary commented that if Alyson had to be stranded
on a tropical island, she could do worse than be stranded with a
botanist and a pediatrician.  Doug laughed for Alyson's sake, but
privately he worried that he wouldn't have adequate medications
for any of them when the need arose.
 
     Early in the morning of the fifth day a small plane had
passed a few miles north of the island.  That was when Doug
discovered that using a signal mirror wasn't as easy as it
seemed.  He practiced with it for several hours until it became
as easy as tying his shoes.  Nobody had thought of the signal
fire, the pile of flammables inside a wooden stockade and covered
by a nylon tarp, until over an hour after the plane had passed. 
The plane had not been equipped with pontoons, indicating among
other things that it did not belong to Search and Rescue.
 
     A squall arose on the ninth night.  Doug guessed that it was
after midnight when the thunder awakened him.  Alyson was
terrified.  Doug couldn't blame her.  During the last storm she'd
avoided death by mere seconds, only to be nearly drowned moments
later.  She wanted to move between them where she would be safe. 
Mary looked at him as if she thought he would protest, but he
merely nodded, then got up to close the shutters to keep out the
blowing rain.
 
     When he returned to bed, Mary was spooned around Alyson, who
was shivering.  "Honey, would you get a sheet for us?" Mary
asked.  They hadn't needed any cover until now, but the breeze
drifting through the cabin had a chill to it.  He grabbed a sheet
from the wardrobe, ducked under the mosquito netting, and spread
it over the bed before slipping under it.
 
     Alyson was crying softly.  A second "G'night, Pixie" helped
calm her, and she soon drifted off to sleep as the storm waned. 
He reached over her to wrap his arm behind Mary for a hug,
pulling himself into a temporary full-frontal squeeze with
Alyson.  Mary whispered, "I love you."
 
     "I love you, too, Mare."  He relaxed his hug and began
sliding back.
 
     Mary's arm clamped down on his forearm, halting him after
only a few inches of withdrawal, leaving Alyson room enough to
breathe, but little more.  "I need your touch, too," she
whispered.
 
     He was a long time returning to sleep, and not because of
the storm outside.
 
     A full bladder half-awoke him shortly after dawn, as usual. 
It had caused an erection, as usual. As he slowly stretched his
way to consciousness and tried to work the kinks out of his
muscles without awakening the others, he felt his boner slip into
the indentation between the cheeks of Mary's ass.  He slowly
humped her crack twice and decided to see if he could slide it
into her while she slept.
 
     That was one of the great things about Mary.  Even sound
asleep it took only a little stimulation to get her wet enough
for a man to enter her.  Frequently she awoke in time to cum and
then drifted back to sleep with a satisfied purr, sometimes
before his own orgasm.  It was a delightful mix of intercourse
and masturbation that he found strangely appealing.
 
     He humped upward one more time until his balls were against
her lower cheeks and reached for her treasure box.  There was a
sheet in the way.  That was curious because they rarely ever....
 
     His eyes slammed open.  In the dimness of the shuttered room
he remembered.  Alyson had turned over in the night and was now
backed up to him.  It was his thirteen-year-old daughter's ass he
was humping, not his wife's.  He shoved himself backward and
landed on the floor.  The impact stung but caused no physical
injury.
 
     The noise awakened Mary and Alyson.  Mary accepted his
explanation that he'd rolled out of bed.  She got up to open the
shutters on her side of the bed.  Alyson repeatedly asked if he
was okay and if she had pushed him out of bed.  He had to quiet
her instead of stopping Mary.  He tried to hide his erection, as
if his betrayal would be erased if nobody saw the physical
evidence.
 
     Alyson had seen his morning piss-hards many times, and it
took a few moments before he realized she thought he was holding
it in pain rather than trying to hide it in embarrassment.  It
was then that he noticed Mary standing there trying to control a
smirk.  He felt the heat as his face flush deep crimson and saw
Mary lose her struggle with the smirk that grew into a grin. 
Does she know?
 
     "Go on," she said.  "Go pee."
 
     As he slipped out the back door he heard Alyson ask in a
quiet, worried voice, "Is he hurt?"
 
     "Only his pride," Mary said in a normal voice before she
opened the other shutters.
 
     _It's not my pride, it's my honor_, he thought.  He worried
that concept all the way to the outhouse and halfway back, when
Alyson stepped out the back door to go relieve herself.  She
hadn't been aware what had happened.  He forced himself to act
natural.  _It's hard to be natural when you're trying to appear
so_, he realized.
 
     "I didn't get a chance to say good morning," she said,
standing on tiptoes, tilting her face up, and holding her arms
out.
 
     "Good morning."  He puckered his lips as he bent down.  They
had no "G'morning, Pixie" routine, but occasionally, in odd
situations such as these, they did the four-second humming kiss. 
"Now," he said as they broke apart.  "The day's finally off to a
good start."
 
     She frowned and rubbed his cheek with her hand.  "Shaving
day," she announced.
 
     Doug smiled at her no-nonsense command tone.  "Just for
you," he said  The number of disposable razors was limited.  He
was trying to stretch the supply by shaving every third or fourth
day and reusing them, since he had no idea how long they'd be
stranded.  He'd been beardless for so long that he found even the
idea of a beard uncomfortable now.  "Want to explore today?"  He
jerked his head toward the forest beyond the outhouse.
 
     Her brown eyes brightened.  "Yes!  I'm tired of cleaning and
fishing."  She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a
quick kiss.  "Thank you."
 
     He tousled her hair.  "We all need a break."
 
     He took two steps toward the cabin before she stopped him. 
With her head down she spoke in a soft, hesitant voice.  "I love
you, Daddy.  I'm sorry I made you fall out of bed."  Before he
could think of a response she turned toward the privy, her head
still down.
 
     He moved quickly to the cabin and through the small bedroom. 
His wife was cutting up the fruit for their breakfast.  "Mary! 
What did you tell her?"  His tone was accusatory.
 
     She looked up, down long enough to slice another banana into
four sections, and back to him.  "I told her you'd awakened in an
amorous mood and forgotten who was lying next to you until it was
too late."
 
     "_You didn't!_"
 
     She put the banana pieces on the platter and turned to place
it on the table.  "No, I didn't.  I told her you weren't hurt
except for your pride."  With the platter in place she looked
back at him, fingertips poised on her hips.  "I thought you heard
that."
 
     He pointed toward the rear, his hand showing a slight
tremor.  "Alyson.... She just said....  You must have said
something else to her.  What was it?"
 
     Mary shook her head and looked as if she were trying not to
laugh.  "Oh, Doug."  She stepped around the table and squeezed
him tightly.  "She's thirteen years old, Doug.  She's not a baby
any more."
 
     His body stiffened in her arms.  "So what was it you said?"
he asked with a quiet voice cloaked in suspicion.
 
     He felt a small chuckle ripple through her as she rubbed her
cheek against his shoulder.  "That's my point.  Nothing.  She's
quite capable of thinking for herself.  She's been blessed with
intelligence genes from both of us, and she knows how to use
them.  You certainly gave her enough clues."
 
     "Clues?"  He gently took her shoulders in his hands and
pushed her upper body back until he could look her in the eye. 
"What clues?"
 
     She gave him the standard Patient Wife Dealing with Clueless
Husband look and shook her head.  "Maybe she only got those genes
from me.  I tell you what."  Her right arm relaxed, and she
brought that hand around to grasp his flaccid love tool and
stroke it.  "You get this thing up again because I need it. 
Right now, right here."
 
     "_What_ clues?"
 
                              *****
 
     Alyson sat with her nose wrinkled.  Even with the gaps
between the rough, gray boards providing ventilation, the
outhouse smelled worse than the bathroom at the _Cleft of Venus_
bookstore.  Alyson knew how that one smelled because Annette
Grolsch was doing one of the attendants there, and he'd let them
in the back door to look around before it opened one morning. The
bathroom had been so filthy she'd been afraid to sit on the
toilet seat. Instead she'd hovered above it to pee.  But at least
it had toilet paper and not plant leaves.
 
     She was glad Daddy had picked fresh leaves from the bushes
behind the drafty little building.  She could just imagine using
half-dried leaves and them crumbling and her getting poop on her
fingers.  _Yuk!_
 
     She wiped the best she could and then left for a quick
cleansing dip in the lagoon.  As she stepped out the door her
mind drifted back to her father.  She still wasn't over the hurt
of being relegated to the far side of the bed.  They used to play
a game to see which of them would sleep in the middle until she
got her own room.  Occasionally there were times, such as camping
trips, when they'd all sleep together in one tent and they'd play
odd/even, or rock/scissors/paper, or some other quick game to see
who got the middle.
 
     As she passed by the kitchen window she heard her mother
exhaling in short, explosive bursts, a sound that could mean only
one thing.  She glanced inside.  Mom was facing the bedroom and
leaning forward with her head down, resting her hands on top of
the table.  Daddy was standing behind Mom, his head tilted back,
grasping her by the hips and slamming his long, rigid pole up
into her, over and over in almost a blur.  Alyson got an
occasional momentary glimpse of the glistening tanned shaft.
 
     Mom's head snapped back, her eyes squeezed shut and face
pulled together in a grimace as a sound tried to fight its way
out of her throat.  When it finally rushed out, Mom's eyes popped
open.  They seemed to move sideways toward her, but then her head
dropped again and they vanished behind a curtain of fallen hair.
 
     Maybe Mom had seen her?  She started for the water again and
discovered that she had to remove her fingers from her crotch to
walk.  She didn't remember reaching for her clitty, wasn't even
aware that she was rubbing it with a fingertip, but did realize
that she'd been enjoying the feelings spreading out from it.
 
     Maybe _that_ was it!  Maybe Daddy wanted Mom in the middle
of the bed so they could do it while she was asleep.  They never
had any time alone together.  Maybe if she'd disappear for a
while every day, give them time to do it in privacy, then she
could sleep in the middle once in a while.  Or Daddy could.  She
always felt comfortable and safe when he was next to her,
protecting her from ghosts and animals in the dark, even if they
were just lying back-to-back.  Just his touch made her feel safe
and loved.  She missed that feeling.  She missed it even more
than she missed all of her things back home put together.
 
     She waded into the blue water south of the dock until she
was thigh deep and then lowered herself into the water.  She
washed her butt and then scooped sand to scrub her hands and
fingers clean.  She washed her body, arms, and legs, spending a
few extra seconds on her clitty, then dipped her head under and
scrubbed her hair.  After she was finished, she would wade to
where the stream flowed into the lagoon and rinse the salt water
out of her hair.
 
     She'd give almost anything for some of her coconut oil-based
bath soap and shampoo.  But she'd give up that if she could just
sleep next to Daddy more often.  It hurt her terribly to think
that she might have been the cause of the argument on the boat,
and now he didn't want to be next to her because of that.  Maybe
he'd seen her watching and had said something to Mom, and they'd
argued over how to punish her.  Or maybe Mom had seen her
watching and that had started the argument.
 
     It was very possible that Mom had seen her this time, too. 
A chill swept over her and churned her stomach as the realized
that she might have just started another fight.  What if they
were going to yell at each other again, and it was all her fault? 
She didn't hear any yelling in the house, but maybe they'd
already started arguing and just hadn't gotten loud yet.  Hot
tears streamed down her cheeks and cold worms wriggled in her
stomach.  She wanted to throw up.
 
     Were they going to punish her now?  Would they make her
sleep on the cot, where she couldn't snuggle with either of them
and feel safe on this awful island?  The mosquito netting didn't
cover the cot, too.  Would she have to lie there, alone except
for the bugs crawling over her and biting her all night long? 
Did Daddy fall out of bed this morning because he'd found her
next to himself and was so disgusted with her that he couldn't
wait to get away from her?
 
     Did he....
 
     "Aly?"
 
     She jerked and spun her head around.  She hadn't heard Mom
wading toward her, but there she was just a couple of yards away,
the inside tops of her legs glistening with slime that had to be
Daddy's stuff, and her face twisted in concern.  Or was it maybe
anger?  Alyson turned her head back toward the opening in the
atoll and tried to wash the tears from her face.
 
     Mom knelt to her left and wrapped a warm, loving arm around
her shoulders.  She guessed Mom wasn't the one who wanted to
punish her.  Maybe Daddy would make her sleep on the cot in the
main room now, not even in the bedroom.  She exploded in tears,
turned, and buried her face in her mother's neck, her body
shaking with her sobs.
 
     Mom's arms wrapped around her, the upper hand lifting to
stroke her wet hair.  "It's okay, Aly.  They'll find us soon.  We
won't be here much longer.  Maybe just a few more days.  We'll
manage that long.  We could last a lot longer than it will take
them to find us.  Okay?  We'll be fine."  It was the same quiet
comforting that Mom had used when Alyson was a scared child. 
Only this time Mom didn't understand how the cold worms were
wriggling away.  She had to get the guilt out of her system.
 
     "It's... not... that," she said, gasping for breath between
each word.  "I'm... I'm... so... sorry!"  The grief exploded and
her whole body shook with her crying.  It was a minute before she
could answer her puzzled mother's question.
 
     "I'm sorry... I watched you... and made... made you... fight
and... and made Daddy... mad at me!"
 
     She squeezed Mom's body tightly, as if she were afraid that,
now that it was out in the open, Mom might get up and leave her
alone out here in the water.  But instead Mom squeezed her
tightly, too.  "You didn't make us fight, honey.  Do you mean the
other night on the boat?  Before the storm?"
 
     Alyson nodded her head, unable to control her crying long
enough to answer.
 
     She felt a gentle kiss on her shoulder.  "Honey, you didn't
cause that fight, I did."
 
     Alyson fought for control and sniffed.  "Then...  then
why's... Daddy... mad at me?"
 
     "Aly, Daddy's not mad at you.  What makes you think he is?"
 
     "He doesn't let... anybody but... you... sleep... in the
middle."  She had tried to keep her voice normal, but the last
had come out in a high-pitched squeal.  Her body began shaking
with her crying again.  She felt Mom's body begin to shake as she
joined her daughter in her tears.
 
     Only...
 
     Mom wasn't crying, she was laughing.  She was trying to hold
it back and couldn't.
 
     "I'm not laughing at you, Aly," Mom said in a giggle fit. 
"Honest.  I'm laughing at your father.  But you do have it all
wrong."
 
     She got her crying under control and looked up.  Mom's eyes
were half-closed in laughter, but Alyson could see love and
caring and honesty deep within them.  She couldn't get the words
out, but Mom understood.
 
     "One of his arguments was that you were too grown up now and
wouldn't want to sleep next to him.  He wouldn't listen to me."
 
     The thought was enough to make her start crying again. 
"Daddy... thought I... didn't love him... anymore?"
 
     "No!  Oh, no, honey.  He was looking for an excuse, and that
was the best he could think of."
 
     "I don't... understand."
 
     "Do you know what really happened this morning?"
 
     Alyson nodded.  She dipped a hand in the salt water and used
it to wash away the salty tears.  "He had a bo...--uh, an, uh,
erection. And he fell out of bed and hurt it, but he didn't want
me to know, so he tried to hide it.  I guess he thought I'd worry
about him."
 
     Mom used a gentle fingertip to push back a wet rope of hair
that had fallen down Alyson's forehead.  "Remind me to trim your
bangs when we go back to the cabin."  She dropped her hand and
smiled while Alyson nodded.  "You're partly right.  He did have a
boner and he did try to hide it, but not from you because he hurt
it.  He was trying to hide it from me."
 
     Alyson wasn't all that comfortable discussing sex with her
mother, but she wanted to know--_had_ to know--why Daddy was
acting so strange.  "I don't understand," she admitted with a
shake of her head.
 
     Mom smiled at her, as if telling her not to be nervous. 
"Aly, when do you think he got that boner?"
 
     Alyson's eyes shifted to the cabin, the dock, anywhere but
to Mom's eyes.  "Well, he sometimes wakes up with one."
 
     "Honey, men usually wake up with one, especially if they
need to go pee.  It's the way they're made.  So he woke up with a
boner.  What do you think happened next?"
 
     Alyson frowned at the center of the dock.  "I guess he tried
to get up without waking us and fell out of bed and then hurt it. 
But, you said he didn't hurt it."
 
     "So if he didn't hurt it, why did he hide it?  This time of
all times."  Mom waited while Alyson thought about that, then
hinted, "What was different this morning from all the other
mornings?"
 
     Alyson thought a little longer.  Mom was always doing
something like this instead of just answering her questions. 
After a minute she shrugged.  "Other than me sleeping in the
middle, I can't think of anything."
 
     Mom raised her eyebrows, cocked her head slightly, and
nodded toward Alyson.  It meant, _That's the right answer.  Now
what?_  Alyson thought a few moments longer.  Her head snapped
toward her mother.  "You mean he wasn't awake all the way and
thought I was you?"
 
     Mom smiled.  "He won't tell me, but I think that's what
happened.  It embarrassed him, and he thought that by hiding his
boner I wouldn't guess what had happened.  Of course, that's the
one thing he shouldn't have done if he didn't want me to know."
 
     Alyson wondered if she were being accused of causing the
problem.  The boner.  "Mother, I didn't do anything, honest.  I
was asleep...."
 
     "Honey, you're not listening or thinking again.  I said he
usually wakes up with one, he wasn't awake, and he thought I was
next to him.  I didn't say you did anything, because you didn't
need to do anything.  He did it while half asleep, and then he
woke up to find himself playing with one of your boobies or your
butt or your pussy."
 
     Alyson blushed at the last word because Mom had never used
it with her before.  "However," Mom continued, "since he was
trying to hide his boner it's most likely he was humping it
against your butt, though he might have been trying to fuck you
with it."
 
     Alyson's face felt like it had suddenly sunburned, and she
couldn't look at her mother's eyes.  At the same time she felt
her clitty throb with the demand for attention at the thought of
her father's big, beautiful boner sliding across her butt or
between her folds and up into her eager body.  Except....
 
     "Mom, he didn't!  Well, maybe he rubbed it on my butt while
I was asleep.  But he didn't put it in me.  Honest!"  The words
tumbled out in a rush.  "There wasn't any pain at all."
 
     Mom gave her the oddest look.  "Pain?"
 
     "You know.  The first time,"  she murmured, lowering her
head and watching the water splashing between the small cones of
her breasts as her face heated again.
 
     Mom moved from kneeling to a seated position beside Alyson,
but the odd look remained.  "Honey, that won't happen because
you're not a virgin any more."
 
     "Yes I am!  Honest!  I've never done it with anyone before,
I promise!"
 
     "Yes, but you've...."  Mom's eyes grew wide and her mouth
gaped like a fish's.  "You haven't?  You've never done it with
Timmy?"
 
     Alyson shook her head.  "No!  I promise, Mother.  Honest!"
 
     "Well, I'll be dipped in shit."  That had been one of
Grandpa Gorshin's expressions.  Alyson never heard Mom say it
except when she was really and truly surprised.  "We thought you
had."
 
     "No!  I'm still a... virgin."  She didn't mean to hesitate
on that last word.  They had thought that she and Timmy had done
it?  Did that mean they were disappointed now or that they had
been disappointed before?  When Mom had told her that they didn't
care if she had sex as long as she didn't end up diseased,
pregnant, or over her head emotionally, had they been ordering
her to...to _do it_?
 
     Mom smiled.  "I don't know why I'm surprised.  Your father
and I were slow starters, too.  But, honey, even if you haven't
had sex with a boy, you busted your cherry--lost your
hymen?--some time ago.  You probably lost it to one of your
homemade dildos."
 
     Alyson was about to admit she knew what a "busted cherry"
was, but the last sentence astounded her.  She felt her eyes go
wide and her mouth sag despite her efforts to prevent it.  "You
know about those?"  Now her face was so hot she expected to see
steam rising.
 
     Mom wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her
again.  It felt really warm and loving.  "I wish I'd had that
toothpaste cylinder when I was your age.  Of course, by then I
had your father for relief.  And most of the other boys in the
commune."
 
     Alyson squirmed with the discomfort of the sudden tack of
the conversation.
 
     "I'll bet," Mom continued, "those candles in the cabin
aren't as good as that cylinder, unless you're using more than
one at a time."
 
     _Those too?_  "How....  How did...."
 
     "When you're a mother, you'll know everything, too."  Mom
smiled.  "Actually...." She paused for a second while her hand
moved under the water and then rose above it.  She showed Alyson
a short, curly brown hair.  "This is thick and coarse.  It isn't
what I found on a candle day before yesterday."
 
     Alyson wanted to duck under the water and bury herself like
a clam.
 
     Mom hugged again.  "It's okay, honey.  Actually, while you
were fishing and Daddy was working on the signal fire, I was
getting one for the same reason."
 
     "_Mommmm!_"  She put on her best Shocked Daughter Dealing
with Disgusting Parents look.  She couldn't _believe_ Mom was
telling her this!
 
     Mom just laughed.  "If it makes you that uncomfortable, I'll
change the subject.  But I'll get you a vibrator after we get
back home.  You'll like that whenever you don't have Timmy
around."
 
     A thousand thoughts collided in her head.  _A vibrator?_ 
Thinking about that must have been what caused her to lose
control of her tongue.  "I _can't_ do Timmy.  I'm afraid of the
pain."  _Damn!_  She hoped that she had said the words too softly
for Mom to hear.
 
     She hadn't.
 
     That odd look was back on Mom's face.  "Pain?  Honey, you've
already lost your cherry.  What pain are..."  Her face turned
positively purple.  "Has Timmy tried to hurt you?  Has he?"
 
     "No!"  She didn't know how to get out of this one, so she
finally decided to tell all.
 
     "Aly, the pain is from having your hymen ruptured, and some
girls barely notice it.  Unless the boy tries to enter you when
you're dry, there's not any other pain."
 
     "But Crystal and Harmony said...."  She stopped and felt the
frown pull her thin eyebrows together.
 
     Mom made a weird smile with half her mouth and nodded. 
"Crystal and Harmony.  Uh huh.  But nobody else has mentioned it,
right?"
 
     "Well, no.  But Crystal and Harmony said that everyone else
would...."  _Oh!_  She didn't know whether to feel angry or
embarrassed for being such a fool.  She settled for being the
most embarrassed she'd ever been in her life.  She could be mad
later when she saw the two witches.  Her sudden tears flooded her
already wet cheeks.  She tried to turn her head to hide her
crying.
 
     Mom wrapped her arms around her and said in a soft, gentle
voice, "I wish I could tell your father about this because he
keeps insisting that boys play much rougher than girls.  But I
won't.  It'll just be our secret.  Okay?"
 
     Alyson's throat was so tight she was sure she sounded like a
mouse.  "You won't tell anybody?"
 
     Mom chuckled.  "When I was twelve I was as flat as desert
pavement.  Melinda Coldwater, Mrs. Peck, was already growing
tits.  Hers were twice the size yours are now.  God, how I wanted
to have boobs too.  So Melinda told me the secret of how she made
hers grow.  'Lollipop,' she said, 'it's very simple.  You just
catch a female mouse, milk it until you have half a teaspoonful,
and drink it.  Works every time.' I think I threw up before it
ever reached my stomach."
 
     Alyson couldn't help laughing, but she felt terrible for
doing so.  Fortunately Mom joined her.  Aly was curious.  "But
you're still friends?"
 
     "And you'll still be friends with Crystal and Harmony.  You
know, not long after that happened I finally realized that
'Lollipop' was another name for 'Sucker.'  I sure was that day. 
But Melinda has never told anyone else, so only the three of us
know.  If I ever tell your secret, then you can tell mine. 
Okay?"
 
     Alyson smiled and nodded.  "But now you call her
'Lollipop.'"
 
     Mom released her and stretched like an awakening cat. 
"That's because Melinda is a world-class cocksucker.  But I mean
that in the good sense of the word."
 
     That was the second most embarrassed Alyson had ever been.
 
                      Continued in Chapter 5
 
Copyright Russell Hoisington 2004
 
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Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion

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