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Subject: {ASSM} Ann Plays Cowboys and Indians
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Date: Tue, 12 Nov 2013 07:10:01 -0500
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Ann Plays Cowboys & Indians

by Meathead

Repost from a Yahoo group, not by Peccavitoon



"Can we play Cowboys and Indians? Can we? Can we, Ann?" pleaded
little Stevie.

"I guess so, but we will have to take it outside," replied Ann.

"Yipee! Yahoohee! Will you play with us?" asked Aaron.

"I'm not dressed appropriately," said Ann as she ran her hands
over her skimpy cotton top and short linen dress.

"Aw, come on, Ann," begged Aaron. "We need someone to play the
Indian girl we both fight over."

"Oh, OK then," said Ann, "but remember we have to play 'nice'."

The five-year-old Stevie looked quizzically at his seven-year-old
brother, Aaron, and said, "What does she mean, we hafta play
nice?"

"Oh that just means that we can't make her cry," said Aaron.

Stevie ran to his room and returned wearing a red felt cowboy hat
with fancy lettering on it. Around his waist, he wore a gun belt
with a silver gun in its holster. A black vinyl vest and brown
leather chaps completed his look. Aaron put on the Indian
headdress and slipped on a leather vest. He grabbed a bow and
three rubber-tipped arrows.

"We're ready, Ann. Let's go!" shouted Aaron as he flew out the
back screen door.

Reluctantly, she followed little Stevie into the back yard.

"We hafta tie the Indian girl to the tree so we can save her,"
explained Aaron.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Ann. "Are you sure this is necessary?" she
said as the boys backed her against the tree.

"Oh sure," said Aaron. "We play this all the time," he said as he
began tying her hands behind the tree.

Once her hands were secured behind the tree, the boys began to
run in a large circle around Ann as the rope wrapped around her
shoulder and chest and then around her waist and lower torso. The
rope cut into the undersides of her breasts, causing her to
complain. "The rope's a little tight," said Ann.

"Here I can help," said Aaron as he tugged upward on her breasts.
"Is that better?" asked Aaron.

Ann's face was a deep shade of red as she said, "Why yes,
thanks."

"What are these anyway? Why do girls have em? And what good are
they?" asked Aaron as he pulled idly on her boobs.

"I know! I know!" shouted little Stevie. "They're called baby
dinners. Aren't they, Ann."

"Why, yes. That's correct, Stevie," replied Ann. Stevie beamed a
big smile of satisfaction at his brother.

"What good are they?" reiterated Aaron.

"Well, when babies are born.....They are used to feed the
babies," explained Ann.

"Why can't the babies just eat cornflakes? That's better than
those funny looking things," asked Aaron.

Before Ann could answer, little Stevie lifted up the front of
Ann's dress and exclaimed, "I'm telling! You're not posta have
hair right there."

Ann's sheer panties did little to cover her pubic hair.
Mortified, but trying to maintain her composure, Ann said,
"Please Stevie don't do that."

"You are such a dork," said Aaron. "It's OK if girls grow beards
down there."

"But I never saw it before," said Stevie. "I never saw it even
when we took baths with our cousins Tiffany and Shelly."

"That's because they are too young to grow beards. Isn't that
right Ann?"

Before Ann could get a word out, little Stevie pulled out his
pistol and nuzzled the muzzle in between Ann's legs. The flimsy
fabric of her panties did little to stop the coldness of the
steel barrel from coming into contact with her sensitive skin.
Ann's whole body shuddered. The cold steel barrel of the pistol
made Ann hop up. All the while, little Stevie held the gun at the
base of her panties. As Ann became accustomed to the temperature
of the barrel, she allowed her labia majora to nestle down on the
barrel of the gun.

Bang! Bang! Little Stevie pulled the trigger to his cap gun. The
sound of the gun startled Ann. She involuntarily pushed her
thinly clad bottom against the rough bark of the tree. The bark
gouged into her flesh and made Ann hop up and then she resettled
down on to the muzzle of the gun. Now her labia slid comfortably
over the sides of the barrel. The sight on the cap gun nudged her
in the taint. "Ooooohhh," she remarked.

Bang! Bang! Went the cap gun. The gun sight poking her in the
taint and the small reverberation of the barrel were enough to
start the orgasm. "Oh my, God, no," thought Ann. "This cannot
happen!" She clamped her vulva as tightly as she could, in a vain
attempt to stop the orgasm. Little Stevie tried to withdraw the
pistol from her crotch but her vaginal grip was too strong for
the young tyke. Instead he began twisting the cap gun from side
to side, causing the gun's sight to agitate the sensitive skin of
her taint. She wanted to relax her vulva so little Stevie could
retrieve his pistol, but even more than that, she wanted to
stifle the oncoming orgasm. So she decided not to yield to cap
gun regardless of the discomfort it was causing her.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Went the cap gun. That did it. Ann started to
bite her lip. Her face became contorted and her breathing became
ragged. Her eyes fluttered and then rolled back into her head.
She began shuddering against the ropes. Her head pitched back and
forth as she uttered a low guttural moan. Little Stevie let go of
the handle of the gun and backed away from Ann.

"Are you OK?" asked Aaron. "You look like you ate too many green
apples."

Ann tried to answer Aaron, but the noise was more of a grunt than
a word.

"She sounds like a farm animal," exclaimed Stevie.

"We better get her untied," said Aaron.

Ann slumped to the ground and rolled over on to her side as the
ropes went slack. She removed the trapped pistol from her crotch
and then she slipped her hands around her throbbing vulva and
gripped it with all her might. She never said a word, although
she moaned a bunch.

"We're sorry if we hurt you. We didn't mean to, really we
didn't," chimed the two boys.

"Please don't tell our mom, Ann. We promise to be good and play
nice."

It took a while for Ann to compose herself. She vowed never to
baby-sit these two hellions again.

Little Stevie found his cap gun in the flowerbed where Ann had
discarded it. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up. "I'm
telling," he said. "She got my gun all sticky."

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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