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Subject: Chocolate Covered Cherries (MMg pedo incest grandfather-father-daughter con)
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Date: Thu, 12 Aug 2004 20:17:38 +0000
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Chocolate Covered Cherries (MMg pedo incest grandfather-father-daughter con)
by Desdmona.
This story is intended for mature readers who are not offended by sexually
explicit content.
In sixth grade on Valentine's Day, Ivy got a valentine from Ritson Smart.
Only it wasn't just a valentine, it also had a stick of gum, Fruity Stripes
- the cherry one. Kids weren't allowed to chew gum at school, so Ivy had
to put it away for later. When it came time to compare the valentines, all
the girls sneaked to a hidden alcove in the bathroom. They called it the
Bippy Corner. Whenever there was something special to share, they would cram
themselves in. It was important to be one of the first to the bathroom to
get the best spot.
That February fourteenth, as the girls huddled in the Bippy Corner, they
learned that Curt Turner had given everyone heart candies that said things
like, "Be Mine," "Yes Dear," or "True Love." And Matt Hodapp had given Kim
Ferguson an adult valentine, not one from the department store packs, but
a card store valentine. All the girls ooh'd and ahh'd and felt twinges of
jealousy even though it wasn't much of a surprise. Two weeks before, at morning
recess, Matt and Kim had professed their liking for each other.
When it was Ivy's turn to share, Ivy hesitated. She wasn't sure how a red-striped
stick of gum would compare to a fancy card from Hallmark. But the girls crooned
their encouragement, and Ivy pulled out the stick of gum. There was a moment
of silence, a reverent moment like they'd just unearthed the Shroud of Turin.
And then the chatter started.
"No one else got gum."
"Ritson must like you."
"Do you like him?"
And from Kim: "It's just a stick of gum, it's not even the whole pack."
Of course Kim was right, and everyone was silent again until Terri Fisher
said, "Yeah, but it's the red piece. Everyone knows the red piece is the
best one."
Terri Fisher had been Ivy's best friend for two months, ever since they discovered
they were the only two girls brave enough to do the flip-over move on the
horizontal monkey bars. It was a scary move when you were eleven. You had
to trust your arms would be strong enough to hold you. You laid flat on the
top of the bar, reached under, grabbed the bars your belly rested on, and
then rolled off the bars in a sort of somersault move while still holding
the bars. It wasn't considered successful unless you could hang with your
feet dangling above the ground for five seconds after the flip.
And in the bathroom that day, Terri Fisher proved once again how brave she
could be. It was very risky to go against anyone who had a two-week relationship
going. Kim had been the heroine, the girl they all wished they could be,
for more than a week. But Terri had faced up to her.
Later, when they were back in class, Ivy couldn't help but glance at Ritson.
He looked the same as always - blond shaggy hair, brown eyes, and two light
brown moles on his left cheek - but suddenly he was the cutest boy in the
whole world.
He caught Ivy looking at him, and Ivy thought she would die sitting right
there in Mrs. Wisecup's class. Her cheeks burned and her sweaty palms could
barely hold a pencil. And then he smiled. Not a huge show-all-your-teeth-smile
but a half-smile that still caused his eyes to crinkle. Ivy's belly shuddered
like she'd just gone over the hill of a roller coaster.
At afternoon recess, Terri Fisher and Ivy were back atop the monkey bar.
They elaborated on the flip-over move by adding a song. "On a high tin roof
Del Gato sat ..." When the song called for the cat, Del Gato, to tumble off
the high tin roof, Terri and Ivy would do the flip-overs. They didn't have
a huge audience, but a few kids stood around, and they performed for them.
As they were belting out, "meow meow meow" for the third time, a group of
girls, led by Kim Ferguson (Kim was the leader in most ranks) marched to
the monkey bars.
"Ritson Smart likes you." This came from Kim, only she said it in a way that
led you to believe it wasn't a happy proclamation.
Ivy wanted to ignore her, but then she remembered how her belly felt in class
when Ritson smiled at her, sort of like doing a flip-over. Ivy couldn't resist
answering.
"How do you know?"
Kim looked around. Ivy was sure it was to see she had everyone's attention
before proceeding. When she was satisfied, she said, "Because I asked him."
The crowd gasped. Kim Ferguson had just done something no one had dared to
do before. That kind of information was saved for secret notes or second
hand news from other boys. But Ivy wasn't impressed. She was embarrassed.
Now instead of covert glances in a classroom, Ritson and Ivy would be placed
under the tightest scrutiny. Boys would watch Ritson. Girls would watch Ivy.
And all to see if either of them gave away some hint of affection. And while
her heart screamed, "He likes me!" the unwelcome attention and embarrassment
made Ivy say "So?"
Kim harrumphed and then turned, with gang in tow and went straight to Ritson,
who was playing football with the boys.
Terri howled out the next line, "He went there to read a letter, meow meow
meow, where the reading light was better, meow meow meow ..."
The few kids that had been watching the performance drifted away until it
was just Terri and Ivy for the flip-over finale.
When recess was over and they were lining up to go back inside, Ivy stole
a glance at Ritson. He looked at her for a brief second and then quickly
looked away. No smile. No crinkly eyes. Two days later, Kim Ferguson and
Matt Hodapp broke up because Kim had a new boyfriend: Ritson Smart.
When Ivy was seventeen and Valentine's Day rolled around, she had a steady
boyfriend, Woody Hall. Woody and Ivy were both in the High School band. He
was a senior and played drum. Ivy was a junior and played clarinet.
Their relationship had started on a Friday night in October. The band was
traveling to an away football game, and Ivy was running late. She'd parked
her car and sprinted to the bus. Mr. Foiles was standing at the top of the
bus steps as Ivy hurried to climb aboard. He waited until Ivy was standing
near him and then yelled.
"It's very inconsiderate of you to keep everyone waiting!"
Ivy wanted to find a seat and sink into oblivion, so she slumped into the
first available spot. Woody Hall was the other occupant. At first, they sat
mute, afraid to draw more attention their way. But by the time ten minutes
passed, the bus still hadn't moved, and conversations popped up all over.
Woody leaned over and whispered.
"Mr. Foiles is such an old fogy."
And Ivy smiled.
Woody's shoulder touched Ivy's for the entire trip, and she learned to love
the combined smell of Brute cologne and Dentyne gum.
After the game, when it came time to load back onto the bus, Woody asked
Ivy if she would sit next to him on the way home. She hurried to tell Terri
Fisher, and they both giggled with excitement. His shoulder didn't lean against
her on the return trip and his Brute had been washed away by the cool night
breeze, but twice Woody's thigh bumped against Ivy's, and by the third time,
he didn't bother to move it away.
Because Woody and Ivy were in different grades, they didn't see much of each
other during school hours. But every Friday they sat together on the bus
or in the stands at the football game. At one especially close game, the
mighty Bucs scored a late quarter touchdown that gave them the lead. The
bleachers were filled with hundreds of ecstatic fans. Woody and Ivy were
among them. In the thrill of the excitement, Woody hugged Ivy to him and
kissed her. His lips were dry and cold, and they only touched Ivy's for milliseconds,
but she was warm the rest of the night.
When football season was over, Woody and Ivy still spent Friday nights together
at the movies, or the arcade. Ivy played Centipede; Woody played foosball.
Or they'd stay at Ivy's house with her parents and watch "The Odd Couple"
and "Love American Style." When they were alone, Woody would hold Ivy's hand
and kiss her over and over - warm, moist kisses that were nothing like the
kiss at the football game.
On Valentine's Day, Woody made special plans for dinner. When he picked Ivy
up, he was dressed in gray corduroy Levi's and a buttoned- down shirt that
was open at the collar. He handed Ivy a heart- shaped box full of chocolate
covered mints, creams, and cherries and told her how much he liked her burgundy
wrap- around dress. Ivy tipped up to kiss him above his open collar and inhaled
the woodsy smell of Brute.
Dinner was two towns away at the Carousel. The restaurant set high atop a
hotel and revolved, so the view during their meal alternated from city lights
to distant mountains. There was no menu. Instead, the waiter recited the
selections. When he'd finished, Ivy wasn't sure what to order. The waiter
resented Ivy's hesitation and brusquely told her they didn't serve hotdogs.
Ivy ordered shrimp.
Woody said he wished they were old enough to order wine, but Ivy wasn't disappointed.
Being alone with Woody in a different city and sharing the magnificent view
with him was intoxicating enough.
That night when Woody parked in front of Ivy's house, his kisses turned hot.
His hands fumbled over her body and when he first touched her breast, Ivy
shivered in shock. Everything seemed to stop, like someone had lifted the
arm of the phonograph. Their lips were still together, but their tongues
didn't move. And neither did his hand. When Ivy tried to breathe, her breast
pushed against Woody's hand, heavy and warm. He finally squeezed, and Ivy
moaned. The record started playing again. He squeezed harder, and their tongues
tried to get deeper. Ivy's heart pounded so hard, she was sure Woody could
feel it beneath his hand.
By the time the porch light flashed on, Woody had worked his way inside the
vee of Ivy's dress and was teasing the soft cotton of her bra. They separated
fast. Flustered, Ivy jumped out of the car and forgot to say, "Goodnight."
Ivy's dad didn't say a word, and Ivy immediately went to her room. She lay
in bed, thinking of Woody and how he had touched her. She fumbled with her
breast, hoping to evoke the same feeling as Woody's hand.
The annual Sadie Hawkins celebration was the following week at school. Even
though it wasn't a leap year, the school liked celebrating. It was nearly
spring, and spring was a time for new beginnings - a time when a girl got
the chance to ask out a boy, and by custom, he couldn't say no. So it became
a tradition at Mercer High to celebrate Sadie Hawkins even if there wasn't
a February twenty-ninth.
Ivy thought for a long time before she decided how she would ask Woody. Instead
of asking him outright, she'd send him a note. The note was childish, but
it was meant to be.
Woody Hall Will you go to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with me? Circle Yes.
She slipped the note into Woody's locker between second period chemistry
and third period algebra. Ivy knew Woody would be going to his locker right
after fourth period.
By seventh period, she still hadn't got the note back. She didn't worry too
much. But when Woody wasn't waiting for her after school, her heart did a
flip-flop. He'd met her every day since the football season.
At home, when Ivy was watching Brady Bunch reruns, the phone rang. Her mother
picked up and seconds later yelled, "It's Woody." Ivy should have felt relief,
but all she felt was dread. Her mouth was dry, dry and cold like a chilly
October night.
"I didn't know how to tell you," Woody said. He'd already been asked to the
dance. Kim Ferguson and Woody shared third year Spanish fifth period. And
Kim had asked Woody in front of the whole class. She'd made the request speaking
in Spanish. Everyone was impressed, especially the teacher. Apparently, Kim
really knew how to roll her R's.
By the night of the dance, Ivy had spent hours on the phone with Terri, commiserating.
They tried to find a reason why Woody hadn't told Kim he'd already been asked.
They failed. Ivy didn't bother to ask anyone else. She didn't want to dance
with anyone but Woody. So she sat home and ate stale chocolate- covered cherries
and light butter creams, and waited for Terri to call her when she got home.
Kim Ferguson dated Woody Hall until he went off to Berkeley in the fall.
In her senior year of college, as Valentine's Day approached, Ivy didn't
have a date. She didn't have a date because Alex, the man she'd been seeing,
was married. And Valentine's Day was one of those days he saved for his wife.
He assuaged Ivy's disappointment by asking her to share the weekend before
Valentine's Day with him. His wife was going out of town. He tempted Ivy
with pleas like, "Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up together?" and "I just
want to spend time with you without having to worry." Ivy let him convince
her.
Ivy was still wondering if she'd made the right decision when he pulled her
into his bedroom. The frilly linens must have been his wife's touch. Initially,
Ivy thought he'd meant they would spend the weekend at a hotel, or maybe
at her apartment, but Alex needed to stay home in case his wife called. Ivy
felt almost a wicked delight in the deception - parking her car a block away,
sneaking into his house after dark, fingering all the things in the house
that were Alex's wife's. Maybe if there had been children, Ivy would have
made different choices like never pursuing Alex in the first place or not
agreeing to this weekend. But it was just Alex and his wife.
They were adults. Alex wanted Ivy. And Ivy wanted him.
The room was already prepared. Candles flickered and cast shadowy dancing
demons on the wall. The floral comforter was folded neatly at the foot of
the bed, and crisp, white sheets were adorned with rose petals. Alex had
put together a perfect bed for sin.
They weren't new to each other, so stripping was less a seduction and more
an act of eagerness. But though Alex was hungry, he started gently. He smoothed
back Ivy's hair and cupped her face. His fuzzy chest hair tickled Ivy's nipples
as he leaned in again and again to dust butterfly kisses on her cheeks, her
eyes, across her nose, and finally to her lips.
He tasted of mint and smelled of aftershave - something expensive that was
more allusive than distinct. He caressed Ivy's neck, her shoulders, and down
her arms, little pets that were neither hurried nor firm. He licked along
her lips, first the top lip and then the bottom lip. He nibbled and sucked
like a baby bird, impatient but soft.
He slipped his tongue into Ivy's mouth and it tangled with hers. Their lips,
wet and slippery, glided together, and their hungry mouths sucked. His penis
lurched hard against her, dotting her with tiny beads of his moisture.
He broke the kiss, stepped back, and reached for Ivy's hand. "Come with me,"
he said, and he pulled her along.
He sat on the edge of the bed and opened his legs so Ivy could wedge between
them. Ivy leaned closer and his mouth latched onto one nipple while his thumb
made circles on the other. A warm rush of pleasure rushed through her, spreading
out from her breasts and sweeping between her thighs. She locked her fingers
in his shiny, blond hair and pulled him closer until his entire mouth was
full from her breast. He sucked and licked and laved her nipple, her areola,
and all the flesh around them. His relentless fingers kneaded and squeezed
her other breast until Ivy couldn't stand the waiting.
"I want you in me," she told him.
Alex released her breasts and his cock rose between them, hard and erect.
He grabbed the base and made long, slow strokes up over his shiny head and
down over the taut skin of his shaft. He lay flat on his back with his legs
still touching the floor. Ivy deliberately slid along his thigh, smashing
herself against its mass. He still held his penis tight and Ivy slid right
down on it. Their bodies slapped together with the fit.
He grabbed her ass and worked his fingers toward the crevice. The closer
he got to the rosebud of her anus, the more Ivy pushed against him. She used
his chest for leverage, digging her nails in deep, riding him feverishly.
She flexed her inner muscles to tighten around his cock, milking its length.
Her breasts bounced viciously above his face as she ground her clit against
his pubis.
When Ivy was about to come, Alex overpowered her and slung her to the bed.
His penis popped out - angry, red, and wet. He slapped Ivy's legs apart and
climbed between them. He spread her pussy open and shoved two fingers inside,
burrowing until he was as far as he could get, and then he wiggled them like
little worms. spreading and stretching and tormenting her cunt. He pulled
his fingers out and slid along the slit, seeking her asshole. He teased the
rim, and her sphincter contracted. And then one slippery finger found its
way inside, past the rim, past the sphincter, and all the way in. At first,
he held it perfectly still and then began to wiggle just as he had done in
Ivy's pussy. He wiggled until Ivy wanted to beg. Until Ivy did beg, "Please,
please."
He pulled his finger out and sluiced upward, bathing all his fingers in her
cream. When his fingers were oily and slippery, he wrapped them around his
cock and penetrated her. A quick jab followed by excruciatingly slow strokes.
Ivy locked her feet around his waist and squeezed him tight. She clawed at
his arms, and he slammed harder, faster, until they were one manic animal
struggling together for release.
When release came, it came for both of them.
Alex fell to Ivy's side face down. His breathing was ragged and his hair
was matted to his scalp. Ivy trembled with tiny aftershocks that continued
to vibrate inside her.
"God, you're a fantastic fuck," he said. Minutes later he was softly snoring.
Ivy was wired with crazy energy. She hopped up from the bed and went to the
bathroom. She found a washrag in a closet that was full of feminine toiletries:
tampons, perfumes, powders, and lotions. Faced with evidence of Alex's wife,
Ivy knew what she had to do. She tip-toed back into the bedroom.
She couldn't spend the night with Alex, and she couldn't wake up with him
in the morning. She might have felt sorry for him if he hadn't entered into
infidelity so easily. Ivy quickly dressed and gathered her things. Alex still
slept.
Ivy opened one dresser drawer and another until she found the one that she
wanted, and in it she placed a small red box with a pink chiffon heart on
its lid. A Valentine's Day gift: one stick of fruity cherry striped gum,
two chocolate covered cherries, and a note that said, "I hope you'll always
remember me!"
When Ivy got home, she called Terri.
"I tucked it in Kim's panty drawer, right where she'll find it," she told
Terri. "I might have felt a pang of regret, except Kim has hated me all my
life. At least now she has a reason."
"Chocolate Covered Cherries by Desdmona.
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