index


Message-ID: <62975asstr$1400283507@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From:  <rjanuary@cox.net>
Sensitivity: Normal
Subject: {ASSM} The Seduction { MeatBot } ( pedo )
Lines: 1062
Date: Fri, 16 May 2014 19:38:27 -0400
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


Title: The Seduction
Author: MeatBot
Keywords: pedo
Copyright by the author.  Permission is granted to archive, repost, or
publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this

type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author.

   Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is
accidental and would be damn surprising.  Be warned that this story may
involve explicit descriptions of sexual activities, including some defined
under law as "Weird Shit".  Do not read this story if you believe that
fictional characters should not have fictional sex, or if you are less than
the age of consent in your social or legal group, or if you live under a
repressive, totalitarian regime in an out-of-the-way place such as the USA.
If you like it, I did it.  If you hate it, I didn't.  If it offends you, it
was a misprint.  If you want to sue me, I don't exist.  Sue the internet
instead.  Nobody's twisting your arm.  Leave if you don't like crap like
this.  These are just words, people.  Just words.

   Be warned, this is a goofy, infantile, poorly written, disgusting and
depraved story with bad punctuation, bad grammar, and lots of misspelled
words.  I am not an English major.  Deal with it.  The part of this story
about the rock is true, my little sister did it.  The main part of this
story is based on something my niece tried to do with me once, although I
reacted quite a bit differently than the guy in this story, which is why I
am not posting this from prison.  Leave the kids alone, people, not just
because you'll go to jail, but because it's the right thing to do.  I know
you're laughing at an old perv like me telling you this, but leave the kids
alone.  Fantasize if you must, hell, I do, but leave the kids alone.  As
well as I can tell, fantasizing is not yet illegal, though it's probably
headed that way.  Just don't act on it.

   This story is graded <TAME> compared to some of the shit I've read in
this newsgroup.

   This story is what happens when you have too much free time at work.





   Sarah Worrell was horny.  She just didn't know what horny was yet. 
Sarah was only eleven years old, too young to understand the signals her
body was sending her.  The only thing she understood was how to deal with
the problem.  She dropped her barbie doll into the sand, and kicked her
brother's GI Joe into the grass.  She went to the doghouse, and crawled in,
and shut the door.  The doghouse was her favorite hiding place, after under
her bed.  It was roomy and spacious.  Well, not really, it was a little
cramped, but she could move around in it a bit.  And it had a light.  The
light had been to provide heat for the dog in winter, and it still
functioned.  The dog was long since gone.

   She sighed deeply, and just sat, glorying in her simple aloneness. 
Sarah was a well formed child, cute face, and a nice body, for an eleven
year old.  Her hair was dark brown, and so long it almost touched her
bottom.  Her skin was dark, and her big beautiful eyes were brown.  Her
chest was still flat, although her little nipples had just started puffing
out, this year.  She had seven or eight little black hairs on her pussy,
she had been cultivating and grooming them for several months now.  She
often saw her mother naked, and her mother had a huge bushy bush, and Sarah
hoped she'd have something to be proud of like that someday, also.  Her
waist was slim, and she had an attractive figure for an eleven year old. 
She actually had a figure.  Her mother had even remarked on that, calling
her "voluptous", whatever that meant.  She thought that it meant that she
actually had a butt, instead of being flat back there, too.  Sarah had a
nice little butt.  The eleven year old boys in the neighborhood, and even
some of the twelves, were watching Sarah with interest.  And she was
watching back.

   Sarah was ready.  She was ready to play around.  She was actually ready
to fuck around, she just didn't know it.  She knew the word, but she just
thought it was a cuss word, a bad word.  She didn't know it was also an
action verb.  Her body knew she was ready, and it was ready.  She just
didn't know it yet.

   Sarah reached into the corner, and pulled out a small, white rock.  It
was smooth and oval shaped, kind of like a little football, the size of one
of her fingers, up the first knuckle.  She tossed it a few times, and
deftly caught it.  In another corner was an old spoon she'd found.  She
picked it up, and regarded it.

   Slowly, carefully Sarah slid her panties down her legs, all the way to
her ankles.  She crossed her legs and sat back.  She pulled her dress up,
and looked at her little pussy.  She thought her pussy was cool, and had
wondered in the past why adults were so freaky about it.  Her pussy had
been a good source of entertainment, but her mother had just gone
absolutely bananas every time she found Sarah engrossed in it.  Her mom
even watched her carefully in the bathtub, now, after the events of a few
weeks ago.  Sarah had to resort to playing with it in bed, after she was
supposed to have gone to sleep.  That, and in the doghouse.

   She took the small rock, and placed it at the mouth of her cute little
cunt.  Cunt, that was another word that Sarah didn't know how to use
properly.  She just knew the looks on her parents faces when her older
brother had said it, once.  She knew by their reaction that it was a
powerful word.  She had tried to remember it, although she didn't know what
it was or how to use it.  She thought it quite often though.  Cunt.  It was
a satisfying word, to her.  In the Worrell house, little girls' cunts were
called "Kitty-cats." No idea how that one had started.  That's just what
they were called.

   Anyway.  She took the spoon, and used the handle of it to carefully push
the rock deeper and deeper inside her body.  She had no idea why she was
doing it, hell, she was just an eleven year old kid.  Kids do crazy stuff
sometimes.  The spoon handle was slim and smooth, and it easily pushed the
rock inside her.  Finally the basin of the spoon was up against her body,
and she knew it was all the way in.

   Well, that was fun.  She pulled the spoon out.  The rock stayed, of
course, somewhere deep inside her body.  Now what, she thought.  Now she
was ready for it to be out.  She tried to pry it out with the spoon handle,
but that just pushed it deeper.  There was no way her fingers could reach
it.  She kind of hopped up and down on her butt, hoping to shake it out. 
No luck.

   Rats, she thought, sitting motionless.  Now what would she do.  Well,
she thought, maybe it will just fall out if I get up and walk around. 
After all, my kitty-cat is pointed downwards.  Yes, that's it, she thought,
it will just fall into my panties.



   By that night, Sarah was a little worried.  No rock.  She had checked
her panties every now and then, and nothing, so far.  She went to bed
worried about it, and woke up the next morning worrying.  School was doubly
worrisome, well, school period was worrisome enough, even without that. 
She wondered if it had fallen out, without her knowing.  But her panties
were new, and the elasic was tight.  She didn't see how the rock could have
fallen out without her knowing.

   By that evening Sarah was in a real tizzy.  She didn't know what to do.

   "Mom." She finally said, knowing she was probably going to get in
trouble for this one.  Her mom was clearing the table, after the evening
meal.  She knew she would get in trouble, but she was worried.

   "What, dear." Her mother was a typical harried thirty-something urban
wife slash mother, complete with a mini-van.  She was cute, and kind of
pixie-ish.  Sarah thought her mom was beautiful, and hoped she would be
too, when she grew up.  So far she seemed to be coming along nicely. 
Except for that rock in her kitty-cat.

   "Mom, what would happen...  if a person...  if a person had a rock
inside their body?"

   Her mom snorted.  "They'd probably die."

   Oh, thought Sarah, how sad.  I'm going to die.  To die?  Just from that
little rock?

   "Mom.  Are you serious?" She said, feeling a tear forming in the corner
of her eye.

   "Sarah, child, more people have probably been killed by rocks down
through history than guns." Her mother moved into the kitchen.  So did
Sarah.

   "Even a little rock?" Said Sarah.  Her mom stopped for a moment.

   "How little?"

   Sarah measured off what the figured the size of the rock was.  Her mom
shook her head.

   "I don't know, Sarah.  If it's moving fast enough, probably."

   "What if it's not moving?  What if it's just sitting there?"

   "Sarah." Her mom finally stopped.  "Did you eat a rock?"

   "No..." Fooey, thought Sarah.  Gosh.  Heck-fire.  Damn.  Fuck.  Cunt. 
She tried to think of other words, but she had ran out.

   "Mom...  it was an accident...  but I don't wanna die!" The last part
was a sob.

   "Oh, darling." Her mother gathered her into her arms, kneeling.  "I'm
sure it's going to be alright.  Did you swallow it, or what?"

   Sarah shook her head, and motioned to her crotch.

   "No...  it was an...  accident..."

   "What do you mean?  How?" Her mother still wasn't understanding.

   "In my...  kitty-cat...  it fell into there..."

   Her mother froze.  Then she sighed, deeply.

   "Sarah, Sarah.  Child.  Tell me the whole story.  And, please.  The
whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

   Sarah cried softly, and hiccupped.  "I was in the doghouse.  I sat on it
and it went inside my panties.  It didn't come out.  I think it's still in
there."

   "You are still in the doghouse, dear.  You sat on it?  And that was
enought to make it go inside you?"

   "I might have pushed it a little, I don't remember." Said Sarah,
somewhat defensively.

   "Child." Her mother just sat, and stared at her.





   And now her father was involved.  That was embarrassing.  Her mother
told him the story Sarah had told, verbatim.  He looked at her with the
same look her mother had given her, that I-don't-believe-you look.  Fooey,
thought Sarah.  They're on to me.  They act like they don't believe me. 
And I almost always tell the truth.  Almost.

   "Brenda." Her dad said.  "Just look.  See if you can see it, before we
go to the emergency room.  Over a rock in her twat."

   Her mom bristled.  "Bill.  Don't talk like that in front of the child.
You know we call it "Kittycat" in this house."

   "I feel dumb saying that." Said her dad.  His wife glared at him.

   "Mom." Said Sarah, wanting to return the focus to herself.  "I think I
feel it.  I feel something..."

   "Sit on the table." Said her mother, helping her up.  When she was up
there, her mom yanked her panties down, and off her feet.  Don't be so
rough, Sarah started to say, then wisely decided to keep her mouth shut.

   Her mom seized her knees, and spread them apart.

   "Dad!" Said Sarah.  "Don't look!"

   Her dad turned away with a laugh, and went the fridge.

   Sarah lay, and stared at the ceiling.  We have a nice ceiling, she
thought.  I never noticed that before.  It's got glitter on it, and
everything.

   She felt her mother down there, pulling and spreading things apart.  She
felt a slight twinge of pain every now and then.  She could feel her mother
breathing on her kitty-cat.  Meow, she thought, meow.  Pet the nice kitty.

   "Bill.  I can't see anything.  She'S just to small.  You look." Said her
mother finally.  He approached.

   "Da-ad..." Sarah said, embarrassed.

   "Sarah." Her father said.  "You started this.  You shoved a rock up
your...  kittykat."

   "I know, but..."

   "But nothing.  Let me look.  Just lay there."

   She did, and he did.  She felt him wiggling and spreading her, also. 
She could feel his breath on her, too, kind of hot.  It actually felt kind
of good, she thought, what he was doing down there.  Kind of like when I do
it, in bed.  Or in the bathtub.  Like when I used to get to do it in the
bathtub.

   "Brenda.  Where is that little flashlight?" He finally said.  His wife
retrieved it from a drawer, and he returned to his examination of Sarah's
private parts.  She almost giggled.  A flashlight, no less.  Sarah's mom
turned to the sink.

   "See anything, Dad?" Sarah asked, hoping he had seen it.

   "I...  I think so..." He finally said.  "Yes, I think I see it.  It's
pretty deep...  I'm surprised you go that deep." He sat up.  Sarah jumped
slightly as she felt his finger on her, on her special spot.  He slowly
rubbed it, and she relaxed.  That feels better than when I do it, she
thought.  Way better.  She didn't wonder why he was doing it, she just
enjoyed it.  Mee-ow, she thought again.

   Her mom finally turned from the sink, and her dad stopped rubbing her.
Shoot, she thought.

   "Well, it's in there.  What should we do?" He said.

   "I have no idea.  I don't think it'll hurt her, but we can't just leave
it."

   "I have a scoop thing, a plastic...  thing...  hang on." He said, and
went in the garage.  He soon returned.

   "This." He held up a long plastic stick, with a small kind-of spoon
shaped thing on the end, tilted slightly.

   "I can try and get it out with this, or we can take her to the emergency
room.  And remember that we still owe six hundred dollars on Devin's knee."

   "Well, money isn't really an object...  if your child is in danger..."
Her mother said.

   "Brenda.  She's not in danger.  She's just got a rock in her... 
kittycat."

   "Well, it might be a problem...  on her wedding night." Her mom actually
giggled, causing Sarah to think, hey, there.  We've got a major problem
here.  No laughing.

   "Lord." Her father said.  "Well, let me take a stab at it, and if I
can't get it, we'll take her to Trosper."





   Bill got ready by washing the plastic thing.  Sarah's mom went to the
bathroom, and returned with a large jar of vaseline, which she smeared all
around Sarah's pussy, even putting a little inside her.  Her father turned.

   "What did you do that for?" He asked.

   "I thought it might make it easier...  and protect her...  I see them do
it at the doctor's office for stuff..." Her mother said, somewhat
definsively.  He shrugged.

   "Okay.  Sarah, girl, just lay still, now.  And tell me if it hurts."

   "Oh, I will, dad.  I will." She said.  Her legs were getting tired of
being spread so far.  She was way ready for this to be over.

   Bill took the spoon thing, and settled inbetween her spread legs.  She
felt him touch her again, and spread her kitty-cat slightly.  Then more,
and more.  It finally hurt a little.

   "Dad..." She said.

   "Yes, I know" He said.  "That's as far as I'll do it."

   Her mother was watching over his shoulder.  He put his face down closer
and closer to her, until she couldn't see him any longer.  She resumed her
inspection of the ceiling.  Those lights looked nice.  And they had shiny
glass things all over them.  How cool.

   She felt the spoon enter her, and go deeper and deeper.  It never hurt,
but it did feel uncomfortable.  She felt it, deep within her, contact the
rock.  He withdrew it, and she felt something roll down her crack of her
butt and nestle right in the little hollow where her bottom was.

   "Ta da." Her dad said.  She felt him touch her, almost on her bottom,
and then his hand withdrew.  He showed her the rock, and dropped it on the
table beside her.

   "Next impossible problem?" He said.

   "Well, thank you, Bill." His wife said, reaching down and helping Sarah
to sit up.  "That is a relief."

   "Brenda, dear, at least we know what to do if you ever get a rock stuck
in your...  kitty-cat." He said.  "Or a softball or something."

   His wife punched him on the arm as hard as she could.  He limped away,
into the living room, laughing.  Sarah dropped to the floor and headed for
the living room.

   "Okay, young lady.  Sit." Her mother said.  Fooey, Sarah thought. 
Almost escaped.

   "We need to have a little talk.  Sit down." Sarah crawled into a chair,
and sat.  She was not pleased at this development.

   "Sarah...  we seem to be having problems lately...  with you, and
your... kittycat."

   Sarah looked up meekly at her mom.  She was familiar enough with damage
control to appear penitent.

   "Sarah." Her mother stared her straight into the eye.  "Sarah, don't
stick things up yourself.  As you can see, it can cause big problems. 
Dear, don't pay so much attention to your...  kittycat.  It's just a part
of your body.  It's nothing special, not yet.  Just forget about it for a
while, okay?"

   "Yes, mom." Sarah said, eyes downcast.

   "Thank you.  You may go."





   Well, shoot.  She hated trouble.  She was glad that was over, and that
she'd escaped with just a small lecture.  You got that right, thought
Sarah, no more stickin' things in the old kittycat.

   It was Friday afternoon.  Soon the sitter would arrive, and her parents
would clean up, dress up, pack up, and go out for the evening.  Typical
Friday night, in other words.  Sarah didn't like the sitter much, she was
an old lady that didn't do anything but sit and watch TV.  Well, actually
it was kind of cool because the kids could just do what they wanted, then.

   She went outside, and looked for either of her brothers.  No luck.  She
played by herself for a while, and then got just plain bored.  There was
nothing to do here.  What's a kid supposed to do, anyway.  Shoot.

   She wandered over to the fence, and looked in Mr.  Weston's yard.  How
nice his yard always looked, nice and inviting.  It always looked like
that, she thought.  It probably looked that way because no kids ever played
in it and tore stuff up.  She noticed Mr.  Weston stretched out on a chaise
lounge, laying in the sun.  It was a good day for it, nice and warm, no
wind...  and lots of sun.

   Sarah went back in the house, and changed into her new swimsuit.  Her
mom had bought it for her on the cruise that they went on, and she loved
it. Her dad had thought it was too revealing, especially in the back, where
it was almost a thong, but her mom had gone ahead and bought it.  Sarah
liked the way it felt, and she liked to feel the sun on her almost-bare
bottom.  She went back out in the back yard.  Mr.  Weston was sitting up,
now.  She waved to him.

   "Hi, Mr.  Weston!"

   "Hi, darlin'" he said, and he got up and approached the fence.

   Sarah liked Mr.  Weston.  He seemed to like her, and he would always
stop what he was doing and talk to her.  He didn't treat her like just
another kid.  She liked that.  And he wasn't afraid to touch her, whether
just to pat her on the back, or grab her and scob her knob, which always
amused her.  For some reason his hands felt good on her body.  She thought
she could feel him liking her, through his hands.

   He approached the fence.

   "Wow, sexy, darlin'" he said.  She knew he meant her swimsuit, and she
giggled.

   "It's new." She simply said.

   "Well, let's see it.  Turn around, dear." He said.  She did, and he
whistled softly.

   "Stay turned around." He said, and she giggled some more.  She knew he
liked to look at her butt.  He'd actually told her that, once.

   "Do you like it?" She finally asked, turning back around.

   "Hell yeah." He said.  "I like anything that shows me cute little girl
butts."

   She giggled some more.  Her friend Donice had told her that Mr.  Weston
was a pervert, but she couldn't really explain what a pervert was.  At
least not where Sarah could understand.  She knew it meant that he liked
girls, at least.

   Mr.  Weston reached across the fence and patted Sarah on the head.

   "You just keep wearin' that, darlin'.  You make my tongue hard." He
said, and went into his house.  She could see him messing with his pants as
he went in the door.  Almost immediately she saw him again, watching her
out the window.  She waved and then turned and just stood there, so he
could have a nice long look at her bottom.  She liked to think she was
making him happy.

   She giggled some more, wondering what a hard tongue had to do with
anything.  Crazy.  Adults.  Go figure.

   She finally returned to the sandbox, and sat, checking first for cat
poop.  She wondered if her mom would let her borrow her phone and call
Donice.  Surely she could think of something interesting to do.





   The week passed, without further traumas or noteable negative events. 
That weekend, her mom and dad seemed to get excited.  Company was coming.
Hooray, thought Sarah.  Company?  Who?

   "It's your uncle Blake and your aunt Phyllis and their kids.  You
probably don't remember them, they were here long ago.  They are passing
through, and said they'd stay for a day or two."

   Sarah nodded wisely.  Oh.  Well, whoever.  She hoped there would be some
kids her own age, at least.  Hopefully a girl.

   That night when they arrived, Sarah was disappointed.  The kids were
just babies, basically.  The kids were both boys, one five, and one two. 
To young for any fun.  Well, the oldest was fun for a while, but then he
got irritating, as most boys do.  She sat in the living room and pouted,
bored.

   "What's the matter, darlin'" It was Uncle Blake.  Sarah liked him, he
was still young enough to almost be a kid to her, and he had seemed very
interested in her story that she told at dinner.

   "Nothing.  Just bored." She said, smiling at him.

   He smiled back.  "Well, sometimes you have to make your own fun." He
said, and returned to the adults.  Shoot, she thought.  She sighed, and
went to her room.





   That night, her mom fixed popcorn, and they all sat around in the living
room and talked.  The adults talked and the kids ate popcorn.  It finally
got silly, and Sarah laid on the floor while Uncle Blake threw popcorn in
her mouth.  She liked him, and she liked the attention he gave her.  She
hungered for more of it.  She finally got up, and sat next to him.  During
a lull in the conversation, she crawled up in his lap, wondering if he'd
pitch her in the floor like her dad did sometimes.  He didn't, he sat
carefully beneath her, and finally placed his hand on her side, right above
her bottom.

   "Sarah, don't be a pest." Her mother said.

   "It's okay." Blake said, patting her.  "I don't mind."

   Sarah finally got sleepy.  It was way past ten, her bedtime on weekends.
She lay back against him, comfortable, and didn't remember anything else
the rest of the night.  Somebody carried her to bed, and when she woke up,
it was morning.



   They had lunch, and her dad suddenly had to go to work, to deal with an
overturned truck, or something.  The women chattered among themselves, and
decided to go shopping, leaving Uncle Blake with Sarah and Devin.  And his
two kids, of course.  Her older brother Steven had gone to stay at his
friend's house for the weekend.

   Sarah and Devin took the boys in the back yard, and introduced them to
the sandbox.  The oldest played nicely, but the baby kept eating sand. 
Sarah had tried sand long ago, and she knew it wasn't too great.  Crazy
kid. She kept an eye on him, and finally Uncle Blake rescued her.  They all
tramped indoors and played Trouble until Sarah grew bored with that.

   "Uncle Blake." She said.  "Can I sit on your lap again?"

   The kids had gravitated to the computer, where Devin began showing them
how he played one of his silly games.  The youngest boy tottered off to the
couch and lay down.  It was about his nap time.

   Uncle Blake pulled a chair up behind the other two boys at the computer,
and held his hands out to Sarah.  She smiled and climbed on top of his
legs, with his help, and settled into his lap.  She was comfortable and
happy.  He just sat and watched the boys, holding her.  He crossed his
hands over her, and she half-lay, half-sat on his lap, feeling his warmth,
slowly becoming more and more enamoured of him.  I wish he was my dad, too,
she thought.  I wish they would come to visit more often.  Like every
weekend.

   Sarah finally scooted back a little, and lay her body along his left
side.  Her legs were spread slightly, and Uncle Blake casually lay his
right hand on her leg, right above the knee.  She was wearing a skirt, a
fairly short skirt, and it had travelled half-way up her thighs by now, as
she wiggled and moved about on top of him.  She felt his touch, she felt
the heat from his body, and she liked it.  She didn't know why, but she
liked it.

   After a few minutes, Uncle Blake moved his hand higher up her leg.  She
wondered if he'd done it on purpose, or if it just happened.  Sometimes
things just happen.  She knew that.  She, equally casually, reached down
and grasped his hand with her two hands.  She just held it for a while, and
then, on impulse, she pulled it towards her.  His hand moved up her leg a
few inches, coming to rest on her thigh, halfway up.  His hand was nice and
warm, and his touch was almost electrifying to her.  She didn't do anything
for a few minutes, as she waited for him to move his hand, or do something,
anything, to let her know he knew where his hand was.  She wondered idly if
he liked girls, since he had two boys.  She figured he did, he had married
one.

   She slowly inched his hand higher and higher.  By now it had disappeared
slightly beneath her skirt.  She almost held her breath and scooted it up a
little more.  He gave no indication that he even noticed.  She finally
turned her face towards his, and regarded him from two inches away.  His
eyes slowly looked down at her, and he smiled.  Relieved, she smiled back.
She leaned into him, and the distance between them grew smaller and
smaller. He leaned down.  On impulse, she leaned up and gave him a quick
little kiss, just a peck.  He jumped, and they both laughed silently.  She
looked at the boys in front of them, and just saw the backs of two heads.
Fine, fine, she thought.

   She leaned into Uncle Blake again, and kissed him again.  And again, and
again.  It was fun.  She was having fun.  She'd never kissed before, except
her mother and dad.  A boy at school had tried to get her to kiss him once,
but she kicked him in the nads and ran away, laughing as he rolled around
on the ground.  She'd got a lecture from a teacher because of that,
although the teacher had laughed several times, especially when she said
"nads".  Crazy.

   Sarah rested her head against his.  She sat that way for a few minutes,
and then decided she wanted more kisses.  She leaned up, and kissed him,
but held the kiss, this time.  She didn't know why she did it, except that
she'd seen people on TV kissing that way.  Holding it.  She finally broke
away, and looked at him.  This time, she thought, he seems surprised. 
Maybe he didn't know I can kiss like a big girl.  She kissed him again, and
he almost seemed eager this time.  They kissed and kissed, and she felt his
lips moving beneath hers.  She moved hers, and he opened his mouth wider
and wider, and so did she, following his lead.  This time, she was the one
that jumped, when the tip of his tongue touched hers.  But she loved it,
for some crazy reason.  She wiggled her tongue against his, and he wiggled
back.  She broke the kiss, laughing, and he laughed with her.  The two boys
turned around.

   "What?" Said Devin.

   "Nothing." Said Sarah.  "Just play your silly game."

   We got games of our own going on here, she thought.  Fun games.  She
leaned into Uncle Blake, and locked her lips around his.  She opened her
little mouth, and stuck her tongue in his mouth, feeling his teeth and
tongue.  She loved the feeling, and the naughty feeling it gave her.  My
mom wouldn't like this at all, she realized.  I would get in big trouble if
she saw me doing this.

   Her body flooded with sensations.  Her inner thigh, where his hand lay,
almost burned.  She seized his hand again, and dragged it up her leg, under
her skirt.  He resisted for a moment, and then let her.  She pulled it
again, and then moved her arms down his arm towards his elbow.  She pulled
again.  His fingers stroked her, she didn't know if it was on purpose or
not, but his warm fingers stroked her just an inch from her kitty-cat.

   Her lips were locked to his when she finally pulled the last time, and
his knuckles made contact with her panty-clad pussy.  She pulled a little
harder, feeling the heat from his hand on her private of privates.  It felt
good.  He didn't resist touching her at all, it felt like.  Do something,
she thought to herself, to him.  Do something.

   She touched his tongue with hers.  He finally moved his hand a little,
and rubbed his knuckles against her kitty-cat.  Mer-row, she thought.  Feel
the soft kitty.  Soft kitty, warm kitty.  She couldn't remember the rest.
She pulled again, harder, more insistent.  He pulled his hand back a
little, and stuck his fingers out.  This time he rubbed her for real, not
just a knuckle rub.  She felt him feeling her through her panties, rubbing
her little cunt lips, what of them there were.  He pushed his finger softly
into her cunt, pushing her panties in a ways, and then he rubbed her
special spot.  Ahhhh, she thought, relaxing.  Yes.  Right there.  Do that.

   She leaned up, breaking the kiss, and put her lips right on his ear. 
She whispered softly, remembering the boys.  "Uncle Blake.  Do that some
more."

   He laughed softly, silently.  He rubbed her little pussy, right on her
little clit.  She melted, softly, slowly, loving the feel of his hand on
her body.  She had an idea.

   She wiggled around until he withdrew his hand.  She crawled down off
him, and said, "Gotta pee."

   In the bathroom, she stripped her panties off, and hid them in the
kleenex box on the back of the toilet.  She did sit, for a moment, to see
if she actually had to pee, but she didn't.  She went back in the living
room, and climbed on top of him, again.  He helped her up.

   She settled against him, laying like she had before.  She waited
impatiently until he tentatively lay his hand on her knee, just like it had
started earlier.  She grabbed it, and hauled it towards her pussy.  Her
now-bare pussy, beneath her skirt.

   He didn't need much encouragement.  He slid his hand up her leg, right
beneath her skirt, and didn't stop until he bumped right into her pussy. 
He froze at the contact with bare skin, and she giggled softly.  She could
tell he was surprised.  He gently carressed her, right on her special
place. It felt good, and she sighed contentedly, and lay back against him.
If she hadn't been balanced so good, she would have fell off in the floor,
right then and there.

   She turned towards him, and they kissed again, softly, slowly.  His
tongue felt good in her mouth.  His hand felt good, on her pussy.  He
rubbed and stroked, and her whole body jerked for some reason.  She felt
goosebumps prickling up and down her inner thighs.  It just felt good to
her.  She knew from experience that rubbing and stroking herself down there
felt good, but it felt so much better when somebody else did it.  It felt
fun.  She didn't know it yet, but it felt sexy.

   He spent most of his time concentrating on her clit, loving to feel her
little body jerk and twitch beneath him.  He knew she was getting off, even
as young as she was.  He wondered if she could have an orgasm yet.  He
wanted to give that to her, to make her feel that good.  She was a very
special child, he thought.  Very sexy.  Very precocious.  He hungered for
more of her.  He wanted to feel her on his face.  He wanted badly to smell
her smells, and to taste her tastes.  He wanted to do it all.

   He didn't know he was a pedophile, until that moment.  If he really was.
Or was it just this one child?  She was a child, true, but she was on the
border of developing.  Physically, she was almost a teen.  He took his left
hand, and rubbed her flat little chest, feeling her budding nipple through
her blouse.  He stroked and pinched it slightly, feeling her wiggle as he
did.  She was ticklish.  He rubbed her little pussy, loving the feel of her
soft skin beneath his fingertips, just loving holding her and smelling her.
She smelled like youth to him, like being young again.  He didn't realize
how badly he was in love with her until he thought, with sadness, that they
would leave the next morning.  He wanted more time with her.  He wanted
badly to be alone with her, if he could.  She was so responsive, so
uninhibited...  he thought of the things he could do with her, and his
cramped erection, already squeezed beneath her, got more cramped.

   They continued to kiss, and he carressed her little pussy.  He poised
his finger at the mouth of her, at the opening of life, and pushed it
gently in.  It went a little ways, and then something stopped it.  That was
okay.  He wasn't going to take that from her.  He wasn't going to do
anything that would leave a mark.  He didn't do it just because it would
leave a sign that he'd been there, he did it because he loved her, and he
wanted her to keep that.  To keep her virginity.  Even if he was totally
alone with her, he thought, I won't take that from her.  It wouldn't be
right.

   He knew that none of this was right, though.  He knew what society would
think, what his own wife would think, what this child's parents would
think. He wondered if he should stop right here.  He'd already gone further
than he should, way further than what he considered safe.  What if she told
on him?  It could come up in an hour, or years from now.  Why had she
seemed so ready to play like this?  She had seemed so ready, so willing...
from the way she'd helped his hand creep up her skirt...  to the way she'd
kissed him.  Just the overall seductiveness of her manner, her style... 
was it something that she'd done before, and with who?  Was this just
normal childhood playing around?  It wasn't normal for him, nothing like
this had ever happened before to him, not even when he was a kid.

   His phone rang, and they both jumped guiltily.  Sarah seemed to pull
back inside herself, and he withdrew his hand from beneath her skirt.  He
answered his phone, taking a call from his wife.  They were going to eat,
and then go to another mall, if he didn't mind.  Hell no, he didn't mind.
Take your time, he said.  Take your time.

   His only other fear was his brother returning.  He looked Bill's number
up in his directory, and dialed it.  Bill answered.  Yes, everything was
okay.  Just a mess.  Two more hours, maybe.  Maybe three, but he'd be home
in time for dinner, and to watch the fireworks.  Good, good.

   Blake hung up.  He regarded the little girl sitting on his lap.  He
weighed the pros and cons.  God, there was a lot of cons.  He stood up,
lifting her easily.

   "I'm going upstairs." He said.  "Dev, Timbo...  you guys be alright?"

   They didn't even look at him, engrossed in the game.  He turned, and
carried his little girl up the stairs.





   He locked the door to her bedroom, just because he didn't want the boys
to stumble in on them.  He knew it would look suspicious if any adults came
home, though.  He wondered if he should go back downstairs and lock the
front door.  No sense in it, though, they had keys to their own house.  He
hoped, and trusted that he had the right picture of everyone's schedule,
and time frame.  He knew his own wife, how she was when she shopped.  That
could go one until six o'clock.  He took a deep breath.  He gently laid the
girl down, on her own bed.  She seemed totally comfortable with him.  She
seemed to have no qualms about being alone with him.  He wondered if she
had a crush on him.  She acted like it.

   "Darling..." He started.  It had been a while since he'd sweet-talked a
girl.  But it came back quickly.  "Darling, I love you.  You are the
sweetest, most delicious little thing I've ever seen.  I want to touch you.
I want to taste you."

   He leaned forward, and they kissed.  God, he thought.  She does it so
naturally.  She acts like this is no big deal to her.  She acts
experienced.

   "Darling." He asked.  "Have you ever kissed a boy before?"

   "No." She replied.  "Just my dad."

   "Have you ever been touched before, by anyone?  Down there?" He
indicated her crotch.  Again, she shook her head.

   "Just my...  dad..." She said, slowly, thinking.

   Shit.  He thought.  Shit.  Bill?

   "Darling...  does he do it a lot?  Do you like it."

   She smiled.  "Yes, I like it."

   Oh.  Okay.  She didn't really answer the question.  He didn't press her.
He wondered what exactly his brother did with her.  Just innocent play? 
Wrestling around and stuff?  Or something...  a little more involved... 
she had seemed pretty used to this kind of thing...

   He stood, and looked out the window at the empty driveway.  He turned
back to her, and helped her sit up as he drew her skirt and blouse over her
head.  In a moment, an instant, she was naked.  She took his breath away.
She was the most beautiful, sexiest little creature he had ever seen.  He
felt a deep yearning in his chest, something that he knew only she could
fill.  He felt tears in his eyes as he thought of his future, and hers. 
His was without her.  This was it for him, probably, just a few stolen
moments, frozen in time.  This, and memories.  Guilty, fearful memories,
wondering if she'd tell, if she'd accidentally let it slip out, even if she
didn't on purpose.  Was it worth it?  What had he intended, by bringing her
up here, away from the prying eyes of the boys?

   He ran his hands over her slim body, wanting to feel every bit of her.
He rubbed her slight breasts, and squeezed her puffy little nipples.  He
ran his hands down behind her, cupping and kneading her firm little ass in
his palms, squeezing.  He touched her little asshole.  His penis absolutely
could not get any harder, he realized.  He ran his hands down her legs, to
her toes.  He held a thigh with both hands, trying to reach around it.  Her
legs were so sexy, slim and strong and muscular.  Her waist was slim, and
her ribs showed through her skin.  She must be zero percent body fat, he
thought.  He loved every square inch of her.  Every square inch was sexy,
to him.  There was nothing about her body that didn't turn him on, until he
thought he couldn't stand it.  He ran his hands down into her crotch,
feeling her soft pussy beneath them.  He tickled the insides of her thighs,
making her wiggle and giggle.  He ran his fingers down the crease of her
legs, right beside her beautiful little pussy, and rubbed hard, wanting her
scent to rub off on him.  He lifted his fingers, and sniffed them.  She
smelled like sex, to him.  She smelled like young girls and sex.  And
sweat. My tongue is going to go there, and soon, he thought.

   He emptied his mind, and kneeled.  He pulled her towards him, spreading
her little legs, and nestling himself inbetween them.  He didn't explain
himself to her, he just lowered her face to her body, and began to lick. 
Time passed, slowly, thank god.  He couldn't define her taste, or describe
it.  It was from another world to him, something his body had never been
prepared to deal with.  This is supernatural, he thought, this is beyond
time and space, beyond my, as a mere mortal, beyond my ability to describe,
to quantify.  He finally licked down the crease of her inner thigh, loving
the harsh sweaty taste, thinking, remember this.  Remember, for your whole
life, remember this taste.  Remember the gift this child is giving you.

   Occasionally he stood, to look out the window.  He trusted he would hear
car noises, and doors slamming in anyone returned.  He even opened the
window, for that very reason.  He returned to her, every time.  She was the
most powerful drug he'd ever tasted.  Her hold on him, this quickly, was
absolute.  His worship of her would never be complete, or containable.  His
life would never be the same, he realized.  She would never, every day from
now on, be far from his mind.  These things he did, to her and with her,
would never be forgotten.  She would be frozen, frozen in time, in his
mind. He wondered how he would react, as well as her, if they ever met, in
the future.  He wondered if she would remember him kindly, or hate him for
the things he'd done.  He hoped she'd remember it was pretty mutual, that
she seemed to want this as bad as he did.  But he knew she was too young,
she couldn't be held responsible for her choices, at this tender age.  Not
like he could.

   Her cunt, her little pussy was beyond his wildest dreams.  He licked and
sucked his way up and down it, glorying in the feel of it beneath his lips
and tongue.  The taste was incredible, strong and unmistakeable, most
definitely pussy.  But young, young pussy.  So clean and fresh tasting. 
His wife had always tasted good to him, but not like this.  This was beyond
good.  It was incredible.  I could do this for hours, he thought.  I could
do this for the rest of my life.  I could die, right here, on my knees,
happy.

   His tongue wandered up her body, past her cute little belly button, and
found a nipple to fasten onto.  Her budding little nipples were incredibly
sexy to him, and he felt his penis, almost wet in his pants, oozing more
and more goo.  He licked and sucked her little breasts, her little nipples,
closing his eyes and nuzzling them with his cheeks, but always returning
with his mouth.  He sucked hard, and felt the nipple expand slightly in his
mouth, hardening as blood flooded into it.

   He stopped, and got out his phone.

   "Darling." He said, polite enough, at least, to ask.  "Can I take a
picture of you?  Can I have something to remember you with?"

   She nodded, shyly.  She liked having her picture taken.  She'd just
never had it taken when she was naked.  It was fun, though.  She loved the
naughty feeling that she'd felt off and on all afternoon.  From the kissing
to the licking, she'd felt nice and naughty.  She knew instinctively that
they shouldn't be doing these things.  But, it didn't bother her a bit. 
She was having fun.  She wanted to do all this, and more.  She was sad,
once again, to think of Uncle Blake leaving.  He is my favorite uncle, she
thought.

   He snapped a few pictures of the sexy little girl, just laying there. 
He reminded himself to change the password on his phone, just in case.  And
get those pictures off it first chance he had.

   "Darling, turn over and sit up on your arms.  Face me." He snapped a few
as she turned and re-arranged herself.  Her little ass was unreal, he
thought.  Way sexier than a big girl.  Am I doomed, he thought.  Am I
screwed, now?  Will my own wife be good enough for me?  Will big girls
period ever be good enough for me, after this?  Will anyone?  After I have
tasted this, this forbidden fruit, how will I live?  Will I ever be able to
be happy again, even for a brief moment?

   He went to the bottom of the bed, so he could photograph her fine little
ass from the side.  He finally put his phone up, and motioned for her to
turn some more, so her bottom faced him.  He reached down and pushed her
legs forward, scissoring her little butt up into the air.  He dropped his
face into it, almost praying, hoping for something as good as her little
pussy had been.  He wasn't disappointed.

   Her ass tasted unlike anything he'd ever tasted before.  He'd ate his
wife's ass out before, she didn't particularly care for him doing it, but
he'd begged and pleaded until she let him, every now and then.  This,
though.  This was a taste of heaven.  A taste of innocence, and purity,
even considering what it was, where it was.  An olifactorial taste of a
young girl's life, a taste of happiness.  His mind overloaded and shorted
out for a while.  He just tasted.  He could taste a sweat, and a tart taste
that he figured were body secretions.  Overlaying it all was a strong taste
of shit, but not nasty and gross at all.  A fucking tasty hint of shit, he
thought.  Everything about this little girl is sexy.  Even her shit is
sexy. Even her shit tastes good.  He licked and lapped her puckered little
hole, loving her all the harder.  He curled his tongue, and drove it into
her body, past her puckered little sphincter, tasting shit even stronger.
She giggled, and wiggled beneath him.

   He finally reached down and liberated his penis, below her line of
sight. He didn't really want her to know, or to see it.  He didn't want to
make that much of an impression on her young mind.  He rubbed his dick
against her mattress, and licked her asshole.  Her beautiful, sexy little
asshole.  Kill me, he thought.  It's over, after this.  How can I go on,
having tasted heaven, having lived for a brief hour in heaven?  How can I
come back to earth?  How can I go on?

   He would never tire of her ass.  He knew that.  He'd just finally have
to stop, to end it.  It hurt him that he would end this of his own choice.
He wanted to do it until somebody came home, and made him stop, but he
didn't want to risk it, that far.  He looked at his watch, and though,
unfair...  unfair...  why does time race so, when you finally get to do the
one thing that you've spent your whole life waiting for?  Why have I found
my soulmate, now, twenty years too late?  Is this all I get?  He gave
himself a few more minutes, flipped her back over, and buried his face
again in her pussy, her wonderful little pussy.

   In his mind, now and ten thousand times in the future, he was poised
above her.  He new that he would never do it, in real life.  He wouldn't
dare.  And he wouldn't hurt her for all the money in the world.  But, in
his waking dream, he fucked her.  He pulled her little body tightly against
his, and pressed his hard cock into her cunt.  He slid into her tightness,
grasping her hips with his hands, and pumped himself deep within her.  Her
cunt would feel so good, he could scarcely imagine how good it would feel.
Just to know it was her, that would be enough for him.  But to get to fuck
that cunt.  Just to feel her little body beneath him.  It would be the most
incredible fuck of his life, possibly the most incredible fuck since the
dawn of time.  But all he could do was dream.  Some other lucky
son-of-a-bitch, at some distant point in time, far in the future,
hopefully, would get this prize.  His prize.  I found her first, he
thought, she's mine!  Unfair, unfair.

   He kicked a shoe off, and pulled the sock from his foot.  He stuck his
penis into it, barely having to pump it, already feeling the contractions
start.  As her taste filled his mouth and her smell filled his nose, he
ejaculated almost violently into the sock.  His whole body tensed and
twitched, and he felt his balls pulse almost painfully as they pumped semen
out.  He wondered if she had noticed, or if she could smell his cum.  She
seemed lost in thought, though, at the moment, as he flicked her little
clit with his tongue.  At least she seemed to be enjoying herself.  Good.
He stuck the sock in his pocket.  He looked at his watch.  He would give
himself ten more minutes.  He pursed his lips, and sucked her little clit,
hard.  She squirmed and giggled.





   He dressed her slowly, methodically, like he was dressing one of those
life-sized dolls the Japanese were so freaky about.  She told him where,
and he got a fresh pair of panties out of her dresser, and slid them up her
waist.  He was sorry to cover her up.  He found his shoe, and put it on,
his foot bare within it.  She sat, calmly, on the edge of her bed, and he
knelt before her, and put his arms around her waist and his head down at
her side.  He couldn't talk, for a while.

   "Darling." He finally said, softly.  "Darling, I love you.  I love you
more than life itself.  I hope that you can find someone someday, who loves
you as much as I do.  I know I never will, but that's okay.  I hope you do,
though."

   She nodded, confused, but willing to listen.  She knew he loved her. 
She'd known that from the start.  Adults, always gotta talk about stuff,
always gotta say a hundred words when one would do.  Or none.

   He raised up, and kissed her softly on the mouth, just for a moment. 
She wanted to kiss some more, but he wasn't finished talking.

   "Please, darling...  remember me kindly...  when you think about this,
in the years to come...  I loved you, and I will always love you.  You have
given me something very precious, and I love you for it.  Can you do that?
Can you remember how much I love you?"

   She nodded, still not really understanding, but feeling the gravity of
his words, and the impact that seemed to be resonating within him still
from the acts that she'd allowed.  She knew he liked licking her.  And he'd
even licked her bottom.  It had felt funny, but good.  She'd enjoyed it,
even when he stuck his tongue in her.  That had felt fun, fun and naughty.
It never occured to her wonder what she'd tasted like to him.  She knew
what she tasted like, it was common enough thing to her, to stick her
finger down there, in her kitty-cat, and even to rub her bottom, and then
sniff it.  She knew that her body was full of tastes and smells.  She just
didn't realize how powerfully they affected him, or how he would spend the
rest of his life trying to relive, to re-capture those elusive tastes and
smells.  Those sexy, powerful tastes and smells.  Her tastes and smells, as
well as her feel, were burned into his brain, but the brain forgets.  The
brain loses information, sensations over time.  He wished he could have
something of her, something to take with him.

   He thought of a hundred more things he wanted to say to her, but he
figured that was enough.  He didn't want to wear her out, or bore her,
heaven forbid.

   They left her room, and went downstairs.  The three boys were out in the
back yard.  Blake sat on the couch, and took her onto his lap again.  He
didn't touch her this time, or even kiss her.  He just held her gently,
feeling her body on his, feeling her warmth, loving her.  This is what he
wanted to remember, too, this...  communing with her.  Loving her.

   Half an hour later, he heard a car door.  He stood, sliding her
carefully off onto the floor.  She glanced at him, and then went to the
computer, seating herself.  He looked out the back window, seeing the boys
beating around in the flowerbed with sticks.  The little bastards.  The
silly little bastards.

   He turned at looked at her one last time.  She turned, and their gazes
locked for an instant.  Electricity flowed through him, followed by a deep
sadness.  It was over.  They'd had their little fling, and it was over. 
Tomorrow he was going to drive away, with the woman he had thought he
loved, and leave behind the little girl that he loved even more.  Way more.
He felt tears well up, in the corner of his eyes.  He opened the front
door, and waited for the women to enter the house.  It was over.





   To his delight, it wasn't really all over.  That night they all went to
the park, to the fireworks show.  They lay, or sat, on a blanket on the
grass, and watched the fireworks.  It was unseasonably cool, for July, and
Sarah's mom had brought another light blanket.  Sarah curled up underneath
it, the upper half of her body laying on Blake.  There, in the darkness, as
the evening progressed, he sent his hand snaking down, past her little
belly, to her privates.  He was aware of the flashes, from above, and he
tried not to be obvious, or to be seen beneath the blanket.  Luckily, they
were a little behind everyone, anyway.  He finally touched her, gently, on
her groin, and she sighed, and spread her legs wide.  She had on some loose
shorts, and of course panties, but it was easy for him to slide his fingers
beneath the waistband of her panties, and touch her.  He rubbed and stroked
her, trying to feel her little clit, trying to get her off, and he thought
he succeeded.  Her whole body tensed up, and with his other hand he felt
goosebumps raise on her upper arm.  Her breathing became laboured, and she
sighed and hicupped, as he stroked her.  He rubbed downwards, into her
pussy proper, and he imagined he could feel moistness, and he wondered if
she got wet.  He wondered if she had cum, if a child her age could cum.  He
wanted to remember that question later, and look it up, on the internet. 
He hoped she had.  He hoped he had given her that much pleasure.  He had
taken so much from her, he hoped he had given her something to remember.





   The next morning, they packed up, and left.  He caught her eye, as she
stood beside the car, and he wondered if she felt sadness at his leaving.
He certainly felt it.  Just as he started to get in the car she ran to him,
and he leaned down.  She kissed him, a chaste little peck on the side of
the cheek, and he held her long enough to whisper, "I love you."

   And that was it.  In moments they were gone.  She went back in the
house, wondering what she could find to do for the rest of the day. 
Sundays were always a drag.

	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
	This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
	Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
	system due to inadequate formatting.
	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

	



-- 
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> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+