Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Just for background, here's some fantasies, first dictated for him to write
in his own hand, then written as him on his TRS-80 "Portable" Computor. 
Which is to say basically a Radio-Shack iComp, which still has to be
plugged in, and write in BASIC, or save/load to/from 8" Floppy. 
Incidentally, one of the first machines in the BBS father of the Undernet.
Obstensibly to tittillate his friends with sick stories of incest, sodomy,
and cuckholding, incidentally used to indict him for Childporn,
molestation, and prostitution.  Discarding him, when he was done,
inseminating her with her first child.  So, yeah, Mind Control, but
subliminal with at least 1 degree of separation.
Leitmotif: Rimsky Korsakov - Sheherazade

   ;

   fm Teen, this starts with a fairly normal tale of sexploration between a
heterosexual couple, without all the kinks and stuff thrown in.  To take a
break from Pirates and shit for a little while, then changes abruptly to
the worst kinds of abuses, for contrast.  I'll warn you when you get
there...

   My boyfriend

   We met at the summer fair, and I don't guess we fell in love right away,
but we noticed eachother, and talked.  Ate fried foods on a stick, Played
games, and basically had a good time together.  It was wonderful, I never
had friends with a boy before, my family kept me away from boys, and I
basically had to run away to have any fun.  So, I went to summer fair
because that's where everyone was.  The carnies rolled in on trucks, set up
for a couple days, I didn't have any money, but I mostly went to be around
people.

   First, he asked if I was there with the Carnies, because he didn't
recognize me.  Then, "Where are you from?"

   I'd just shaken my head, but the first thing I said was "Here." I hadn't
really talked to a boy before, but he was pretty, and he looked at me, and
asked if I was hungry?  Then he walked me down the food trailers, and got
out his wallet.  I tried an Italian sausage first, just plain in a bun,
like a hot-dog, but it was delicious.  He had one too, with mustard and
sour kraut, then he said, "You have a little," he held up a corner of a
napkin, and wiped the side of my chin.  The casing popped when I bit it,
and a little oil ran out.  I thanked him politely, but it felt like I was
blushing, all night.  Every time he looked at me, I had to look away, from
what I saw in his eyes.  He didn't say it, that night, that I was
beautiful, but I felt it, just from the way he kept looking at me.

   Then we did some rides, played some games, laughed, and, he looked at
me, until I had to look away blushing.  He won me a doll, just a cheap
plastic midway prize doll, but I never had one, of my own before.  I held
her, and thanked him, she had the loveliest blue dress, it was the nicest
gift I ever had gotten.  Then, he turned me back.  Just touched my chin,
turning away from the way he looked at me, and he kissed me.  Behind the
shooting gallery, where he won the doll, she hung by the arm beside me, but
his hand went over my shoulder, and rubbed my hair on my neck.

   "I hugged him so tight my chest squished on his, and I could feel,
something.  In his jeans, with my tummy.  I did not know, but that was the
first time I felt one.  Touched one, hard, for me.  Then he took me home.
He just kissed me, "Goodnight," like a gentleman, and dropped me off.  But
I carried my doll up to the house, and our room, and got ready for bed, and
held her, all night.  My adopted parents said it was "Wonderful." The doll
was hard, plastic, with arms, and fingers sticking out, and I didn't care.
They dug into my arms all night, but all I could think about was him,
winning her for me, then kissing me, and holding him so tight.  Her arm
behind his back.  The way he smelled, the carnival noises, the snap of the
BB guns, and the PLINK!  when one hit it's mark.  I dreamed of him all
night.

   Then, in the morning we got up, I stuck her on a shelf, and we got ready
to go to church.  I was old enough to be out of sunday school, sit through
the sermon, with my eldest brother, and ignore it except to sing, or answer
the priest's words to the congregation.  "Amen," with everyone else, then
we took communion, and there was a potluck.  It was afternoon before we got
back home, but he waited.  Standing by his car, mom said "Go on," and he
took me out in my sunday dress.  For burgers, and shakes, fries of course,
they had a juke box, but we didn't do any dancing.  He joked, I laughed,
and looked down when I saw him, staring across the table at me.  My face
felt so hot.

   "Why do you do that?" I don't know, I just can't.  But it has the
advantage, I found that he touched my face.  Gently under my chin, across
the table so he couldn't kiss me, but he looked again, and I smiled,
looking back in his eyes.  "I love your eyes." As long as I could.  That's
all he had to say, then he payed his tab, left a tip, and drove me home. 
By the scenic route, the trees, mountains, up the main road, then off back
roads, over a lake (There's several) so I could see it through the passing
trees below.  It was getting late, but he drove around the east side, to
park.  Overlooking the water, so the sunset shone up over it, and the
orange disk melted into the trees on the next ridge like a pat of butter.

   We kissed, made out, then he took me home.  He was a gentleman, didn't
even go for second base, but I asked my brother about his.  Thing, that I
felt, that first night hugging him at the fair.  He said it "just means
he's excited." From kissing me, and I felt it in his lap, with my hands,
through his jeans.  Just the backs of my fingers, but I knew he was
excited. He just held me, his arm up around my shoulders, his other hand in
my hair, feeling my neck, and the side of my face through it.  I could hear
it, brushing over my hair.  But he didn't touch my chest, between my legs,
or up my skirt.  He was a perfect gentleman, even though I wanted him to
do, all the things my father warned me he would want to do, "Before you're
ready." He was wrong, he had a back seat, and he didn't even mention it. 
He just kissed me, then turned on the lights, and backed out to drive me
home.

   That night, I was breathless in bed.  My heart beat so fast, and deep, I
wanted to feel it, but my breasts got in the way.  I looked up, at the doll
he gave me, watching from the shelf.  But I felt myself up, until I fell
asleep, wishing it were his big hands on me.  But I didn't know how to ask.
I could barely stand him looking at me, much less consider actually telling
him what I wanted.  He was a perfect gentleman, and it was driving me nuts!
I didn't dare, touch myself.  In between my legs, but I really wanted to. I
felt weird, wonderfully strange in there, but I didn't dare.  I wanted him
to, more than anything, but the next time I got in the back seat.

   He asked why, and I said something to the effect that there was more
room, without the steering wheel in the way.  I wore a skirt, the shortest
one I could get, which ment taking one from their sister, who was much
younger, and a little fat.  Nothing wrong with that, it was even a little
lose so I had to take it in, but she said she didn't mind.  I have no idea
why it didn't occur to me to cut it, above the knee, then hem it again, but
in retrospect, that would have been a lot more sewing.  Worth it though, I
felt how exited he was, and even rubbed his fly with the backs of my
fingers, until he moved my hands.  "Stop."

   "What's wrong?"

   "You're gonna make me mess up my pants."

   "So?" I, had no idea what that ment.  "Hh, it's okay," I kissed him
again, and put his hands in my lap.  Then, fine, if you don't want me
touching you, then you can touch me instead.  He just left them there,
side-by-side on the padded bench, mostly just kissing but his hands in my
lap, over my skirt.  I had to shake my legs, because he didn't move them,
but he kissed me.  So, I felt in his lap again, and he moved my hands
again.

   'huhH, what's wrong?"

   I didn't realize we're going to have our first fight.

   "It's just," he covers himself, "Sinful."

   "Why, because it feels good?"

   "No?  Because if I waste my seed;"

   "It's not seed.  Huh!  It's;"

   "I know," he interrupted, "You don't have to say it, but Jesus said."

   "Hh, you got your bible?" I really would rather be making out right now,
but he got it out.  A pocket New Testament, King James, I'm sure you know
the one.  Took me a while to find it, "Here," I had to squint,

   "Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: When anyone hears
the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one
comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart.  This is the seed
sown along the path.

   The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word
and at once receives it with joy, but since they have no root, they last
only a short time.  When trouble or persecution comes because of the word,
they quickly fall away.

   The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word,
but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the
word, making it unfruitful.

   But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word
and understands it.  This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a
hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown."

   "~Jesus.  It doesn't say anything about your pants, what's in your
pants, or messing up your pants.  The seed is the Word of God, and you
don't have the Word of God in your pants, do you?" Well, he did, in his
back pocket.  He shook his head, "All right," so I held his face, and
kissed him.  The first time I did that, kissed him instead of letting him
kiss me, but I decided, last night.  He's not going fast enough, and I
would have his hands on me the next chance I got.  So, I felt down to his
lap, picked up his hands, and put them on my chest.  He felt them, but
then, I felt for it, but it was too late.  He wasn't hard, I felt it
through his jeans, but "Uh!" The seats were still leaned over, so I climbed
up front.  "Might as well take me home now."

   He felt them, I didn't even wear a bra to day, for him, but I guessed it
was too much.  He "Messed up his pants," so like always I asked the oldest
boy.  I guess I should stop calling him my brother, he's not, any more than
my boyfriend is, but when I got there, they said I could call their parents
"Mom, and dad," just like them, they would treat me as their own, and I
called everyone brother, and sister, even cousins, and other kids my age,
but no relation.  But, he wasn't my brother, and he was no gentleman.  So,
I asked about that, and he told me he was just "Too excited," and finished
early.  Then, he told me about handjobs, and showed me how to do it.  Not
too fast, nor too hard so he finishes early, but not too slow so he can't
keep it up.

   But he was like that, not my brother, nor my boyfriend, but somewhere in
between.  He cared about me, like a brother I guess, but he wasn't In Love
with me, like I was with my boyfriend.  He had girlfriends too, but I
really needed help, and he really helped.  Also incidentally got handjobs
from me, plural.  I really needed that too, because my boyfriend wasn't
ready, I was, and instead of rushing past him, it helped to have my
"Brother" to take care of those urges.  And I did have urges, I loved it,
jerking him off, especially the bright splash of cum at the end, and I felt
better.  Afterwards, it wasn't an orgasm for me, but it satisfied, whatever
caused me to crave it, the feeling of it in my hands, the warm skin
slipping, and the splashes of cum at the end, until I had to satisfy it.  I
don't know why, I still don't know why, but I loved it, even before I got
to do it the first time, I really wanted to.

   Until finally my boyfriend let me get to second base.  Not just touch
it, through his jeans, brush it with my fingers while we're kissing, but
get it out, see it, hold it, and stroke it until he got off.  "Uh?" He sat
up, on the trunk.  Our favorite spot, because it was beautiful, and nobody
knew to look for us there, we kind of wore our own dirt road, when the
other couples went to their makeup spot.  But we didn't go to the makeup
spot, we found our own, so we could get out of the car, and I could jerk
him off leaned back up against the trunk.  "Huh, huh huh!" His eyes went
wide, but I already had a rag.  I knew I would do this, today, so I just
pulled it out to wipe my hands, and clean him up before I fixed his
underpants.

   Then, he read to me from Leviticus.  "When any man hath running issue
from his flesh...  he is unclean."

   "Puss," I nodded.  I just read, the whole damned thing again, to see
where in there it actually sayeth I can't touch myself.  "If you pick a
scab, or pimples, that's what it's talking about.  Or, like buboes, or
something.  That, what you just did is Life, itself.  It's not unclean,
it's one of the holiest things you have been given."

   He thought about it, "Okay?"

   "And besides," I leaned over, "It shall be unclean until the evening." I
pointed out, said it a bunch of times.  "That's what it means by even, it's
short for evening." I pointed, "The sun's going down, see?  It's no longer
an issue."

   So, I didn't have to practice handjobs on my brother any more, and
besides, he had real girlfriends.  I was just glad to give them to my
lover, the one I wanted to, and finally give him some pleasure.  But of
course that wasn't enough.  For then, but it wasn't enough for long.

   And I read the whole damned thing, and it said little if anything about
women, touching ourselves.  The church did, and Leviticus of course had all
this stuff about issues of blood, and having to go away for a week for
being unclean, but I know what that is.  Had my period for a couple years
now, it's not all that mysterious, and I'm not forbidden to even touch
anyone for a week whenever it happens.  Nor my mother, nor any woman I've
ever known.  Leviticus was the law of Moses, if I knew any practicing Jews,
I'd ask them, but until then, I'll stick with what Jesus really said:

   "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, and with all thy mind.  This is the first and great commandment, and
the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.  On
these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."

   That's it, look it up.  Love God first, and foremost, then love
eachother, and love yourself.  That's the law, and the foundation of the
law.  Love.

   ~Jesus.

   While you're at it, try not to say it where it will fall on deaf ears,
or use it to throw you out, call you names, and possibly Stone you to
death. Meaning the church, the people who don't even Read it any more, they
hear the Word of God, but do not understand it.  So, the devil comes and
snatches it from their heart.  That's what it says, what He said, Jesus. 
Don't take it from me, look it up.

   So, he went and did something dumb.  He went and asked his pastor.  Now,
he doesn't go to my church, probably why he hadn't seen me before, he
graduated before I was a freshman too, so we didn't even go to school at
the same time.  Then he didn't come to pick me up, I tried calling him, but
his mother said he doesn't want to talk to me any more, so finally I had to
get a ride, clear across town, and wait for him.  In his car, he had to
leave for work some time.

   "Get out of my car."

   "We have to talk."

   "I don't have time for this," he checked his watch.

   "No," I buckled my belt, "You have to get to work, and we can talk on
the way." He didn't have a choice, either pull me bodily out the open
window, or get in, drive to work and listen to me.  I had to skip school
for this.

   "Hh, my pastor told me, what you did."

   "I jerked you off, I told you, I even showed you where Jesus Christ
himself said it was okay."

   "No," he looked over, "I mean, before.  To get kicked out of your old
church."

   "Huh!" I rolled my eyes, "Go on, tell me what he said."

   "He said that you were, caught.  With another girl, that you're
lesbians, and that makes you unclean."

   I laughed, "Okay, 1: We just read Leviticus, All of it, together,
remember?  Where in there did it say a damned thing about lesbians?  And 2:
if I was a lesbian, I would be having sex with girls, not trying to
convince my boyfriend to let me jerk him off.  I wouldn't even be in love
with you, I would've told you to go fuck yourself at the fair."

   Can't argue with that logic.  "Well," he couldn't, "So, you didn't?"

   "I was molested, by an older girl, because the boys were kept separate,
so she couldn't play with them, and neither could I.  Then, she left, I had
all those girls to mess around with, and I didn't.  Because, and this is
the important part: I'M NOT A LESBIAN!  Your pastor lied, because he lies.
He takes the Word of God, and twists it, so you good little sheep follow in
His flock.  You know how I know?  Because he called me a Lesbian, so you
can't have a girlfriend.  Don't listen to him, listen to Jesus, that's the
Word of God."

   Then, he got to work, so I got out, he parked, and I walked to school.
"Sorry," I lied to the principle, "I missed the bus, and I had to get a
ride." I didn't miss the bus at all.  "I'll try not to let it happen
again," so I was marked late instead of absent.  But that's what happens
when you don't read it, you just take someone's word for it.  Take no Man's
word for the Word of God.  Okay, Jesus, but he wasn't just a man, he was
half God born of a woman.  He was God, he came to update the Law, that was
his job, and he had to die to make it official.

   So, anyway, that's when I really started hating the Church.  When I
realized they weren't working for God, they took the Word, and didn't
understand it.  The Enemy came in, took it from their hearts, and filled it
with sin: Hubris, Vanity, Pride, and Lies.  They bear false witness, which
I know is in the original set.  You know what isn't?  Whacking off.  So, if
you're reading this, go back and read the Bible.  Don't let anyone read it
for you, because that's the Truth, and mortals fuck up the truth, every
single time.  I still went, I had friends there, my family went there, and
they had a pretty mean potluck afterwards.  But I stopped listening, mostly
just read the bible, in the hymnal flipped ahead to the right one from the
board.  So, when the organ started up, I just had to save my place, stand
up, and sing.  Then, I could pull the ribbon, and find my place again.

   Then, bless his heart, he started asking questions.  First scriptural
ones, what's not allowed, so we looked for the answers.  Together, in the
scriptures.  In his back seat, often in the midst of a heavy petting
session, I usually started with a splash.  Jerking him off, then he'd think
of a question, so we'd stop for Bible Study.  Then, he started asking about
sex.  In the bible, we knew sex-sex was for when we're married, but it
doesn't say anything about handjobs, much less kissing, fondling, necking,
and he loves my butt.  Not my chest, that didn't magically change, but he
stopped feeling me in the back seat, so he could lean back on the car, and
hold me up to kiss him.

   I just wanted his hands on me, my bottom was just as good as my chest,
which I could squish, and crush on his chest while we kissed.  So, that was
my first question, "Why do you like my butt, and not my chest?" Couldn't
even say Breasts, much less any of the other words I knew, because he lost
the mood.  "I don't know," he folded up our bible, and got out.  Leaned up
against the door as soon as I got out, and bent his knees.  To hold me,
kiss me, squeeze my ass.  I grinned, picked up one hand, and held it up to
my bra.  "Well?"

   "Hh," he thought, so I rubbed him with my tummy to keep him hard.  "I
guess, well first of all, it's in the right place." He gave me a squeeze,
then reached down to give me another.  "Your," he looked away, "Boobs, are.
Well, don't you think they're kinda in the way?"

   I shrugged, "I got used to them." He doesn't even have to wear them all
day.

   "And another thing is, they're like, fat, you know?" I shook my head, "I
dunno neither, but," more squeezes, "These feel so nice, meatier, and I
love how they move in my fingers."

   "Hh!" I nodded, because I couldn't really say anything more than that.

   "Can I touch you?" I opened them, but he looked away.

   "You mean," he closed his eyes, in shame.  "Yeah," I squirmed, "Honestly
it's not fair of me touching you so long, without letting you get in my
pants too." I said that, honestly.  I actually cared more about jerking him
off than him learning to pleasure me.

   "But,"

   "Not mentioned in the bible, anywhere.  I checked, and I love you," I
kissed him, "I owe it to yh'huh!" Then, he didn't pick me up, I had my feet
under me, but his fingers moved in.  Between them, and I felt the tips in
my crotch.  And the crotch of my shorts, some underwear in there I couldn't
feel, but inside them.  "Hm!" I just kissed him.

   "Uh!" He had to stop.  He messed up his pants.

   I got off, months ago.  Must have been over a year before, that I
finally decided I'd been lied to, Jesus doesn't care if I do, and I should
really check on where all these weird uncomfortable feelings are coming
from, just to make sure everything's all right.  I wasn't on my period, I
started through the sheet, my nighty, and my nightclothe.  I still wore the
undercloth, to bed, even though I was no longer wetting it.  Not the
scratchy old linen one, I cut up an old sheet they used mostly for rags, so
at least they didn't itch, but because I felt so naked in my nightclothes,
with panties on, and there were boys in the house.  I caught one of them,
looking up the stairs so when I came down in the morning the light shined
right through it.  And I saw my shadow, on the floor at the bottom of the
stairs, and where his eyes were the whole time.  He just started sitting
there in the morning, it took about a week to see why.

   So, I went right back up, got dressed for school before breakfast. 
Instead of getting orange juice first thing to wash the sleep out of my
mouth, it was right after I got there.  So, anyway, then I started growing
up, got a boyfriend, and touching myself thinking about him to dream about
him.  I started with my chest, for one thing it was new, and that's where I
noticed most of the growth.  I had a few little hairs too, but other than
those, the other major change was gross, and not a turnon.  Well, yet, but
I'm talking about the first time I got brave, and put my arms over the
covers to feel between my legs.  And imagining him, his hands between my
legs, and my arms pulled the covers and nighty tight over my chest too, and
I had already jerked him off all ready.  And my brother, a few times
actually, but just to get the hang of it.

   Now, that's easy.  It sticks out, you can see when he's excited, and you
just have to pull the skin until he cums.  Girls, are somewhat more
difficult to figure out, so I had to resort to the one way I had experience
with that.  Unfortunately, that was remembering my molestor, and that's
probably why it took so long for me to go there.  I wasn't a virgin, and it
reminds me of her fingers, her touching me, and I finally remembered.  She
touched herself to, I didn't look, it was so sinful, but "Huh!" It wasn't,
that was just my teachers talking, and they were wrong about, just about
everything they said about sex.  So,..

   "Nhm!" I just got a fold in.  Like the sheet, but inside the sheet, the
blanket, and under my night-shirt, but I felt it.  And I made too much
noise, because it woke my older sisters up.  There were 2 girls rooms, I
had to still be 13, so I was in with the older girls.  And I never even
thought about them, because I wasn't a lesbian.  But, she went "Muh?" or
whatever, so I stopped, so she wouldn't get up, and ask any questions.  A
conversation I really wasn't in the mood for, so I stopped and went to
sleep.  It felt good, even the cool cotton getting warm between my legs. 
The nightshirt too, the blankets were still tucked in, but I held the
nightshirt between them so they didn't sweat together.  And that felt good
too, I didn't move, or do anything, but I had a folds of my undercloth
inside, my labia, and I suppose probably touching the hood of my clitorus.
That felt wonderful as I drifted off to sleep, I didn't actually get of for
a while after that.

   Then, I did the dirtiest thing.  In school, I probably wouldn't have in
church.  Well no, the bathrooms were different anyway, but the stall was
out of toilet paper, and I didn't check.  I peed, I had to wipe, and I have
to admit I was thinking about sex, and masturbation.  A lot, especially
sitting with my skirt up, my panties down, and fluid trickling out of the
mysterious place I was still exploring for pleasure.  "Hh!" He got his
fingers in, and my shorts are so tight, even with the zipper all the way
down, he really has to rub them in rather hard and roughly.  "HIhn!" I
nodded, flailing to catch his shoulder, and clutch at it.  "Hih ihn!" I
just turned, put my head down, in his chest, felt his chin on my hair,
trying to breathe, but his fingers were moving.  In and out, wiping me with
the cotton, and if I just.

   "H?" Slipped my hips, a little.  Just as he pulled them back out, so I
slipped down, which made his fingers slip up, and the fold of panties he
was drying me with brushed my most sensitive spot.  Just like the first
time, I got off, "Wiping" myself with my panties.  Well, it started that
way, it took several minutes before I finally tickled myself to a panting
shaking breathless seizure of pleasure, but fell.  My knees went out, but
thankfully he had his arm under mine, to catch me across the back when his
fingers slipped out of my shorts, and I fell.  Gasping, and grunting
between spasms, trying to breathe, shuddering and shivering until it was
over.

   "Wow!" He helped me stand up, I could still barley breathe, but I felt
it.  His rezerection, I already jerked him off, but just pulled his
underpants up, his belt, and fly still open.

   "Hh!" I pulled them down, and pushed my but out to bend over.  "Smh,"
rubbed it back and forth on my lips, kissing, and pulling it open to kiss
the bare head.

   "Oh god, wow!" He rubbed my hair around, and I loved that too.  I didn't
suck him, didn't even get him wet, but I beat him off again.  All over my
face, and hair, rubbing it all around on my cheeks, and neck, and lips, and
nose, and "Huh!" Then he started spilling his seed all over my face, and my
hair.

   "Huh!" I held him until he went soft, crawling in my fingers when I
slowly relaxed them, and the last drops milked out in the pucker on the
end. "Smq," I licked my lips, and sighed.  "Hhn!" Then, we had to change
into our swimsuits, because we're pretty unclean from it.  Especially my
hair, I knew the rag I used to clean him up with the first time got all
dry, and sticky, so I sure didn't want that to happen with my hair!  But
then, he started asking for what he wanted.  And what he wanted was to
"Make love to your hair." He loves it, to me it's like breasts, they kind
of get in the way, but I have ringlets, and he loves them.  Physically once
I let him twirl them around it, while he jerked off.  Kind of hard for me
to do, that close to my head, but that left my hands free for everything
else.  Sideways, on the beach, his bouncing tummy like a pillow where I
could feel his strong thighs, and hairy balls, and big warm hard penis all
over my face, and neck.  And hair, "hH huh!" He'd catch his breath, and I
knew.  Even before he puled back the skin in my hair to close my eyes.

   "Ooh," so hot, and full of life.  I didn't open my mouth like a
cum-hungry slut, but I licked my lips, and moved my head to make is more
likely to hit them.  But even in my eyes, running down the side of my nose,
on my cheeks, or forehead.  "Hhhhh!" This was love, this was his love, what
I love about him.  That was how we showed it.

   We started doing it on the shore, with a blanket down so we could go
straight to the lake.  Skinny dipping, and I don't mean swimming naked.  We
didn't just swim, or much at all once I got far enough out you can't see
I'm naked under the water.  He can feel it, and I even started taking cold
baths, to play with myself at home.  But thinking about him, at the lake
the whole time.  It just takes a while to figure out what you like, he's an
ass man, came by it honestly, his daddy too, and could care less about my
chest.  That's all right, I have hands too, but he kept one busy holding me
up, and the other in front of me.  To goose me, and finger rub me, and pat
me when I get good and loose so cold puffs of water fuck in and get me off.

   Do you get hot?  Well, it's distracting.  I have to push the sheets off,
and get out a box fan to really play with myself in bed, and there was 3
other beds, so that wasn't really an option.  I get too hot, so the water
actually helps when I start to get all shivery, and nippley, and
goosebumpy. He could probably let me go and I'd drown, but he didn't.  He
helped me wash my hair, once I took a dive to wash off my face, and let the
water slide heavy under my breasts, belly, and legs, then kick them
together for a rush.

   "Huh!" I had to put my head back, to dip my hair out of my face, and
feel over it to make sure it was all fish food now.  "Huh!" Then he was
there, behind me, holding me, his hand finding a bottock, then feeling
around front.  Holding me up, so I can breathe, feel my chest, the hard
icey pebbles of my nipples, and slap water into me.  "Yeah, huh!" Then more
rubbing, wet, but not slippery, I could feel his fingertips, the rough
callouses softening, then swelling, the most perfect, "UhnNH!" Then just
holding me, his arm around me, under my breast, spanking the water into me
in thick cool bursting gushes.  "uh, uh uh uh huhuhuh!" Shaking, and almost
struggling until he has to just hold me.  Kiss me, and rub his face in my
wet hair, until I can stand up again.

   ;

   Marion {Fg Nepi Ince.  With flashbacks to Marital Rape, and fantasies of
prison sex thrown in.  Here's the start of her psychotic breakdown.
Leitmotif: Tool - Pushit (Aenima.) }
I thought my husband was sick.  I just had no idea until I woke up in
the middle of the night, and caught him.  At first, I thought he was
changing his diaper, and that filled my heart with love.  He usually just
woke me, "He's crying," and went back to sleep.  He held his legs up, as if
to wipe his bottom, but he didn't.  He just held him, and now I realize I
didn't see his other arm, his hand, and what he was doing.  I didn't hear
it either, until he sighed.  I knew that sigh, covered my mouth, horrified
to see his shameful seed splash out on my poor baby, his legs, and his
privates.  "Pervert!" I threw the first thing I could get my hands on, and

chased him out.  Still holding up his belt, and trying to get them closed.

   "You're over'reacting."

   "No," I threw something he ducked, "Get out!"

   But then I heard crying, up stairs.  I ran up, my maternal instinct took
over, realizing he was alone, on the bed, and imagined him rolling off to
hit his head on the hardwood floor.  He hadn't, he was right there, but I
looked away from the, sickening mess.  Cleaned it up as best I could,
without looking, imagining it was poop, or something.  "Yeah," there was an
old one I could smell, "You just pooped, that's all." I told him, hoping he
would forget, could ever forget, the, nightmare I had let happen.  I was
full, so as soon as I got him changed I had to feed him, it was starting to
hurt.  It had been hours, and the shaking they took chasing off, that, sick
fucker.  "Huh!" I tried to calm down, but I was still shaking with fury. 
He was hungry though, and finally that calmed me.  "Hhhh!"

   I can't describe, that feeling.  Not your child's lips, gently steadily
suckling, but the warm milk, drawing through my glands, and more welling up
from deeper within my breast.  "Hhh," He smiled, wide mouth as infants do,
but the painful swelling went right down, and he kept suckling, slowly,
until his eyes drooped.

   'hn,' the gentlest sigh, through his nose, and a couple more dry pulls.
Nodding off, I put him down, in his crib, but all it took was the sight of
the holes in the walls.  The broken things, the messy diaper he left. 
"ooOOH!" I went down to the phone, and started dialing immediately.  I had
the evidence, the diaper he, he...  "Uh!' And the washcloth I cleaned him
off with.  I told them what happened, he was in the hospital, having a
bruise on his side treated.  Where I hit him, a nasty bruise, and a cracked
rib.  Good, he deserved worse, and I hoped he found it, in prison.  A big
black daddy to show him how wrong what he had done was.

   I went home, changed, and fed him for bed, but all that night I dreamed
of the abuses he'd find in prison.  I knew he was sick, when I met him, yet
I loved his filthy talk.  His perverted stories, they got him horny, enough
to have my son, and get me pregnant again.  I didn't know, counting back
from her birth, it could only have been 6 weeks, and if I missed my period,
I didn't realize it.  It had been barely over a year, and I still haven't
gotten on a regular schedule, just kept pads in case it came back.  My milk
never dried up, but I swear, it came out, pink where he had hit me. 
Grabbed me, squeezing so hard I felt it pop.  My nipple, it bled.  It even
bled into my milk again, and it never was the same.

   He didn't, beat me.  Not really, he almost never yelled, but when we're
married, he confessed his, darker fantasies.  Not the twisted ones, that
somehow led to him.  His, what he finally did for me to leave him.  I can't
even say it, out loud.  I'm ashamed I ever got involved with him, and his
sick ideas, but each time, it had to be sicker, to get him ready.  To make
love, and he made love so wonderfully, once he got in the mood.  I had
thought him impotent, he wasn't my first, younger men could get, in the
mood immediately.  Stay ready, but he needed me, to pretend.  Say the most
aweful things, or sometimes imagined me.  A scary little girl, lost in the
world, or a dirty little baby sitter.

   "Hh," I had forgotten that.  Why, it was years ago, we didn't write them
down, or I thought he hadn't, but then I found his stash.  He hid them, he
was so ashamed, and his hand writing was scrawled, so excitedly. 
Especially when it came to the climax, his hand shaking, while, his other
hand, "UH!" I sat up, "Huh, huh!" But, I couldn't get the image, the very
real image of his strong hand, holding up his ankles, shamefully abusing
himself, and the mess he left.  I was raised, conservative.  Why, we never
even talked about, sex.  I hadn't heard of masturbation, nor all those
words he had for, such, things.  I can't imagine why I found that, at all
attractive.  He was a pervert, I knew he was a pervert, and I should have
found his secret fantasies sooner.  But I didn't want to pry, why, I.  I
cried, until my son cried to wake me.  For once, in the middle of the
night, I was already up.  Instead of feeling his rough hand, squeezing my
chest from behind till it ached, he wasn't wet, nor dirty, and I was full
again, so I set back in the rocker.  And, fell back asleep.

   Which was a mistake, all the nightmares came back, in his words. 
Muttered under his breath, deep inside me, grunting, and spanking me with
his belly.  "You, loose fucking twat, tighten up.  Yeah, tighter, you been
fucking the whole town again?  Let's see if your ass is tighter.  You like
it, up your shithole, you lose fucking whore?  I should turn you out after
this, make you earn your keep, take you out to the biker bar for a
gangbang. You'd like that, Uh!  Wouldn't.  You.  Huh!" He shook his filthy
thing in my face, "Lookit this mess.  Clean it up, yeah, suck the shit off
it.  You;"

   "Huh!" I almost dropped him, and he kicked.  Struggled crying, but I
couldn't catch his flailing arms and legs, so he fell off the rocker. 
"Oh!" I picked him up, "There there." Bounced him, and cood to sooth him
until he calmed down.  He didn't fall far, and I don't think he hit his
head, but he started screaming.  But I was half full, so I pulled down the
strap from the other side, and held it up.  At first I thought he wasn't
hungry.  He rooted, but couldn't find it, didn't latch on.  Frustrated, I
felt down, then.  I couldn't feel it.  "Huh?" My teat, it was as if it
wasn't there, and I had to put him down.  Crying, but I ran to the bathroom
where we had a mirror on the medicine cabinet.  It hurt, it still hurt, and
though I could see the broad ring of my nipple, the teat itself was flat.
And swollen, with milk, and starting to bruise.  I had, thought, he didn't
hit me.  But then I remembered, our fight.  "Bitch!"

   "Noh!" Falling to the floor, cupping the tender flesh where he punched
me.  Then he was on me, tearing my hands away, crushing it, and yelling
those sick horrible things in my ears.  I felt it.  Pop, my nipple popped,
and now I could see the bruises from his fingers, crushing it.  And heard,
my poor little boy, crying.  Like he did, last night, to snap me out of it,
when he was gone.  I thought, he was trying to get in the mood again, but
he didn't.  He just left, me there, sobbing on the floor in the hall, until
I heard Christian crying.  "Huh!" He couldn't nurse, my bruised one.  The
nipple was broken, but once he got the other side dry, I loaded him in his
car seat, and took him to the store for a pump.  It was morning, but the
drug store was closed until 10.  By the time I was able, I finally brought
the swelling down, but I had to throw the milk away.  It was tainted, pink
with blood.  But at least the painful pressure was gone, it hurt on my
bruise, but it hurt worse full of milk.  It bled for days before it healed,
and I could feed him from a bottle.  Then, I had to take him everywhere. 
Shopping, to the office to apply for benefits, until finally I could work,
afford a sitter, then adjust my schedule for when he was in Kindergarten.

   But, of course by then, I had had his sister.  And, I had thought I felt
love before.  She was so beautiful, from the moment I saw her, I hadn't
even thought a name, but I gasped it out.  "Christina." I christened her
Christina.  I promised her, right then, I would never let anyone hurt her.
Expose her to, that depravity.  The sickness in the world.  Before I even
took her home, payed the sitter, then I took her up to the nursery.  The
rocker, and fed her.  "Hhh." I pumped as well, and little Ian could handle
the bottle himself.  He watched me, from his bed.  Then, she fell asleep,
so I could go to bed.  Completely drained, dry, and loose in the chest. 
Eventually, the nightmares even stopped.  I got a Pell Grant, to go back to
college.  The transcriptionist job I was working at the time was data
entry, moving all the records to computers, where they could be shared,
across country in minutes.  So, they helped me go back to school, so I
could work from home, and take care of the baby.

   I never touched him.  Ian, even when I opened his diaper, and saw he was
excited, I just cleaned around it, and made him move his fat little hand.
Too much of his father in him, I swear he touched himself at every
opportunity, I had to spank him to stop.  So, I could finish changing him,
put him down to pump, and feed Christina.  My Christina, she was so pure,
and innocent.  Not corrupted by the, sickness of his father.  I admit, I
had 1 affair.  1, I did not know at the time, but he must have gotten me
pregnant.  She didn't even look like him, my ex husband.  She was
beautiful, and innocent, and pure.  She never did anything, sick, like get
excited from nursing.

   Cuckhold {M...MF.  Also, Slut Spou.}

   My wife.  I took her to the bar, and she threw a drink in my face.  Then
my ring, I picked it up on the way out.  Head low, held it in front of my
to hide the shame throbbing in my pants.  Trying not to grin on my way out
the door.  Go back to the car, turning it on my fingertip, slipping it out,
then back on, dipping the nail in, and out of it.  Then smoking, out the
window.  Looking in to see her, drinking, the guys lining up, hesitant at
first, then waiting patiently while she flirted, and shot them down.  One
by one, their tails between their legs, to cry it off, and get pats on the
back by their friends.

   Soft in my lap.  No need to waste the blood, the attention, just set the
wheel up.  The windshield shining from the light over the parking lot, but
the window back lit from inside.  Like a mirror, the pecking order.  First
the top dogs, confident, easily cowing the betas, then the gammas... 
Working their way down, she doesn't like big charming confident men.  With
a nice car, wife, and kids at home.  Cock of the walk, and everyone knows
it.

   "Peacock," she calls him.  "He knows it's his, the pussy belongs to him,
all of it.  Only a matter of time..."

   But he has brotege's, betas, hang around him to pick up his sloppy
seconds, cast-offs, and throw themselves on the occasional grenade.  The
Gammas go to them, to mansplain how to be a wingman.  So they can go out,
brave in numbers, and hunt for pussy.  "The Deltas are sexual scavengers,
like you.  Look for victims, already broken in, and take what you can get.
Or easy victims, children." I know, the best ones are too young to tell, or
say "no!" And they forget, before they grow too old.

   But this, the Queen in her court.  "Huh!" Turn the key to fire up the
radio, not the motor, and slide in the tape.  Queen, Killers; "Another one
bites the dust."

   Oh, down to Gammas now, or Beta's betas, the rivalry, the Pride sitting
back to watch.  Seen this before, some of them had even been with Her. 
Hers', for a few moments.  But she always comes back to me.  Not that she's
mine, i am and forever will be Her's, but I was learning.  She pats my
cheek, "One day, when you grow up, you just might be an Alpha." Then slaps
me, "Uhn!" I let my hand down my chest, and feel the hardness in my lap.

   She's not an Alpha Male, she's an Omega Woman, the Queen, and I'm the
only one that knows it.  I am Her beta.

   Western flannel shirt pulled out, so i can cover it in a moment, mirrors
in my periphery, i don't want to spoil the mood, but i can still get in it.
Brush it aside, to rub my leg, and smack the inside uf it, 'gHn!" Yeah, she
should get to the bottom of the barrel soon.  They just jump right in her
boat.  "Just has to chum the water a little..."

   "Hh," don't touch it yet, just standing to swing upright over my flannel
covered buckle, and the bottom button of my shirt.  "Hhh!" Rubbing the
inside of her thigh.  She uncrosses her legs, looks right through the
window, then crosses them again.  Looks over, and nods.

   He can't believe his luck, I have to unbelt, and unbutton my pants to
zip them up, button, and belt them back.  Over my raging erection, I hurts,
but I cut the music.  He can't believe his luck, she catches herself on the
stool.  No wonder, didn't even get in line.  Old, fat, bald, pathetic,
probably stinks.  She's in no condition to drive, but either he hadn't been
drowning his sorrows for long, or he's one of those hard-core drunks that
drive better than sober.

   You know, when he's not getting groped, flashed, and necked by the hot
housewife, that somehow took pity on him tonight.  He swerves, a few times,
but she makes him.  I keep my eyes on the road under them, with the lights
off, don't even need the brake.  I know this road, driven it with my eyes
closed, bursting a nut in her mouth, but she has him pull over.  I cut the
engine, coast up.  Brake lights, don't need them.  He doesn't see shit.

   "Huh!" rub my hands together.  Get out, the window, so i don't have to
take out the dome light, or try to close the door silently.  No traffic,
about the only reason to head down there tonite is the bar, everyone's
already there, and it's too early for any of them to be headded back.  To
see us, just a truck, then a car pulled over to the shoulder, too far apart
for him to hear my tires on the gravel.

   "Hhhhh," deep breath, so I don't have to pant too loud, windows down, I
creep up to the quarter panel, and get my head up behind the rear pillar.

   "SCHLUP!"

   "Uhn!" I think he holds his breath after that, I can see his face, but
his eyes are squeezed tight.  "Huhuh!" he lets out a shuddering breath, but
she sits up, grinning, and wiping her mouth.  Turns, and reaches up.  Pulls
the lock stem, but I already kicked my boot forward, to stand up, grab the
door handle, and "Bitch!" Pull her out by the hair.
Khhhhhh!.:';'.
He roostertails, fishtails, and catches enough pavement to take off, the

door flapping back out, then slamming shut.

   She grinned in the receeding light.  "SPWHO*!"

   I winked, and grimmaced, turning away, then she smacked the other cheek
to turn me back.  "That Hurt!" Patting her hair.  I laughed, and grabbed
her belt.  "Forcing" her back, okay, running backwards, laughing, drunk, in
heels.  Not real high ones, and broad, but still.  In the dark, on Gravel.
"Hihihihihn!"

   Falling back on the hot hood, her hair spraying up, then rolling back
down to her shoulders.  "Huh!" Her miniskirt coming open, with her heels
pressed in my back.  Pulling me in, and the smell of her lust hitting me
while she crosses them, squeezing my sides hard, and pulling out my belt.
So hard the tongue lashes out, and slaps her thigh.

   "Uhn!" She closes her eyes, and bites her smiling lip.  "Huh!"

   So i finish getting it out, holding it down in her stubble so she
relaxes.  A little to let me back out, aiming, and slipping down...  And,
just hold still.

   .

   .

   "UHN!" She stabs me into her, then grunts.  I thought, she was having an
orgasm, the first time.  Felt her midriff, tighten, and ripple through her
skirt, and half open blouse.

   "Ngh!" No, she's doing that.  To me, I'm not making her cum, she's
jerking me off, with her muscles.  It just takes, like all her
concentration.  I don't fuck her, I can't.  She won't let me, and she'd
probably bite it off, spit it in my face.  "Nyuhhh!"

   She relaxes, I can barely feel more than her warmth, even as it
twitches, and spatters wetly inside her.

   'huh.' She sighs.  "That it?" i look, she's.  Disappointed in me.

   "I'm sorry," even as the last of it twitches out.

   "Huh!" she rolls her eyes, "Well," pushes me off, "You've got all night
to make it up to me." She grunts, to hold it in.  Long enough to get out
her underwear, put them on.  I hold the door, help her in.  She crosses her
legs, belted up, and i go around to get in my side.  "KRHALK!" She wipes
her mouth, leaning back in to pull the door, and I hand her a Gatorade.

   "Should've let that slimy sacka shit fuck me first.  Like he would've
lasted longer, what're you, twelve?"

   "Hhuhh!" NOW, i was starting to get in the mood!  I nodded, hands steady
on the wheel.

   "Explains the widow kiddie dick, huh!  I haven't seen one that small
since i was potty training.  Fuck, it get any bigger when it's hard?"

   I shrugged.

   "Well, maybe I'll keep you around, till your balls drop, and you start
growing hairs on 'em.  You like that?"

   "Yeah," I nodded.  "And stay outta my underwear!  All my panties smell
like ass, you pissy little shit.  I swear, can't leave you alone a fucking
second, without you sneaking in, and spraying your filthy mess all over. 
When you get home, I want you to lick them all clean."

   "Yes," I hesitated.

   "Sister," Oh good!

   "Yes, sister!"

   When we got home, i only had to lick out one pair.  Then she took them
off, to get all that leaked out in them, then i got to suck her off.

   Then, she started getting in the mood...

   {Author's note: All right, I've been a bad.  Well, whatever the hell I
am.  Reading Leslita, and laughing at the badly written impossible
molestations.  Until I eventually found a few that were well written,
believable (I'm not going to say Realistic.  I can't, having never been an
11yo girl) erotic stories.  So, I need to do something to get it out of my
head.  Unfortunately, I can't just play with myself, I have to stimulate my
mind.  So, "Just Jenny," I guess this one's for you.  As usual, I'm going
to say this is wrong, so fucking wrong, no matter how write it may feel

   I'm just gonna leave this here:}

   "Taught a lesson...

   The Police - Don't Stand so Close to Me (Syncronicity)

   At first, I was just uncomfortable.  I know, I am an attractive woman, I
had always wished to be known for my faith, and compassion.  So normally, I
resented such attention, but every time I looked back, at her, "Jenny." She
looked up, with such adoration, I had to look away.  My face felt hot, and
I could almost feel her eyes on my chest.  Through the front of my dress, I
can't explain why she is different, "It's not polite to stare."

   "Yes Miss Albright." Her looking down should have stopped the shameful
feelings, which never should have started in the first place.

   "It's missus." She's 11, and I am a married woman.  Happily married,
"Huh!"

   "Yes," she smiled, "Missus Albright." My heart swelled.

   "Now run along to church." I'm a Christian woman, a good Christian
woman, I crossed myself.  Think of your Husband!  I did, knowing he
wouldn't approve, how could he, of these, sinful feelings, for an innocent
little girl.  This is not why I became a teacher.  I want to shape young
minds, guide them to a better understanding of Jesus.  Not, long after her
beautiful young face, wide staring green eyes and "Hh!" My hands shook, but
as the organ music swelled, for our cue to rejoin the sanctuary, I clasped
my hands together.

   Yes, run along Jenny, and don't tempt me to pat the back of your skirt,
to hurry you on your way.

   "How where they today?"

   I kissed him, my husband, deeply, almost hungrily before the music
stopped.  "Thanks be to god."

   We sat.  'Well, how where they today?' he whispered in my ear.

   "Fine," I shook my head, "They were just fine." Don't, glance over
there! "Huh!" Look down, turn to him.  "I missed you." Lying, in the eyes
of god!

   "I missed you too," he took my hand, "Honey." Kissed my cheek.  Held it
between us, I squeezed my ring against his, as a constant reminder of our
bond.  And that was enough, To make it through the sermon, kneel before
god, and take communion, keep my eyes from straying back to the pew, for
the orphans, "Huh!" Her eyes, I looked down.  Held my hands together before
me, and my head down, in humility.  To hide the shameful flush on my
cheeks.

   "Go in peace."

   "Amen."

   I felt freed, and hurried out.  My husband, my dear husband held my
head. "Are you all right?" He turned his hand at my brow, "You look a
little flushed."

   I nodded, "I may be coming down with a fever." For all I knew.

   "Let's get you home." We normally stop for a dinner, or something on the
way.  Through town, but what he didn't say.  Left unsaid, to bed.  Yes, I
was sick, and he put me to bed as soon as we were home.

   "No, John." I held his hand, pulled back the covers over my nakedness.
He smiled, lifted his eyebrow.  "Don't leave me alone."

   "Oh, honey," he dropped his pants, and joined me, I helped him get his
undershirt over his head.  His sunday shirt and tie already discarded, I
felt his hair, his lips on mine, and guided his head under the covers.  "Oh
John," he kissed between my breasts.  "Yes my Johny, my darling." My tummy.
"Oh yes," breathlessly whispered, 'jenny,' but the covers muffled it.  I'm
sure, he didn't stop, or react.  I held my breath, to prevent another slip,
but as he kissed me, and my love welled out.  "Huh!"

   I remembered, why:

   I was about eleven, of course.  Just starting to have, weird feelings,
that made me feel uncomfortable.  Our mothers had The Talk, about what the
bleeding means, and I can only be grateful we aren't Catholic.  That would
include Confession.  I should probably stop, teaching Sunday School, to
escape the temptation.  I think this even knowing I won't, I can't, not
after remembering her.

   My best friend, Amanda.  She didn't look anything like her, Jenny, but
then I told her.  I'd gotten my period, what my mother told me about it. 
What it means, what it's for, and I showed her.  She was curious, she
hadn't gotten hers.  She covered her mouth, and giggled.  It was
disgusting, we didn't do anything, I just changed the pantyliner, threw it
out, then we went to play.  Something else, I don't remember what.  It
should have stopped there, but we made up a game.  A new one.

   Honeymoon.  We went through the whole thing, the wedding, dancing, her
aunt got married, and as her best friend I was invited.  She got her
period, and talk too, then we ran off, giggling to play.  During the
reception, while the bride danced with her new husbands.  She told me, her
mother's talk was different.  It included a few things in common, the
truths about becoming a woman, what to expect, and so forth, but she also
spoke, more frankly.  About sex, and of course the wedding was over.  We
both knew what comes next, so we hid under a table, pulled down the cloth,
and played honeymoon.

   "Huh!" He collapses, sweating, and holding me.  His hard flat chest over
my breasts, I feel up his back, my fingertips slipping in his fresh sweat,
and hold his shoulders.  "Smooch!" He gets up, pulls on his pants.  Not a
word, but he goes down, finally leaving me alone.  With my feelings, my
memories, my damp fingers, and my sinful unsatisfied sex.  "Huh!" I know, I
shouldn't.  Not because there's anything wrong with a married woman,
finishing what her husband started, but.  "Huh!" I shouldn't indulge, these
thoughts.  It only makes them worse.

   So, we played sex, called it "Honeymoon," but she kissed me, and we
helped eachother, out of our underpants.  Our sunday dresses stayed on, but
she showed me.  What she had learned, "Mom had a book," my mother didn't
have a book, "With pictures," but she didn't bring it.  She showed me the
only way she had, in the light under the tablecloth, and her skirt pulled
up, her knees spread on the carpet of the hotel they rented for the
reception.  "These are my labia," she spread them with her fingers, "That
means lips.  And this, is my clitoris." She licked her fingers, and
giggled, "It feels really good, when you rub it like this."

   So, I know, my mother told me.  I should never touch myself like this.
But that's all right, I had a friend to do it for me.  Then she showed me
oral sex, "She said it's the best way to get you wet, and ready for your
husband." We took turns, playing the husband.  Of course, we didn't have
the proper thing.  So, we used our fingers, but that's how she took my
viginity, and I hers.  She, knew more, her mother told and showed her more,
and the next time I was over at her house, she "Borrowed" the book.  We
read a lot more.  But, that's why she played the husband first, touched me
first, broke my cherry first, and showed me how to do it, because she knew
more.  Later, she turned out to be a lesbian, but there wasn't anything
about that.  In the book, her mother was a nurse, so it mostly covered the
anatomy, and biology.  That's where I first saw a picture of a penis, and a
circumcized one, and even read about how circumcisions are done.

   John came up, so I stopped, and held my hands under the covers, but he
cooked!  "Oh," for me, just chicken soup, but it was so sweet.  "I think
your fever's getting worse." he just held my brow.  I nodded, and closed my
eyes.  "Eat your soup, it'll make you feel better."

   It was good soup.  But it wasn't enough.  I now realize that Jenny
doesn't look at all like Sherry.  But she looked at me, the way she used
to.

   Jenny {GF Sedu}

   "Mrs Albright?" She stopped, turned, and I looked up from her chest. 
"You think we could, talk?" She hesitated, started to turn away, until I
frowned, wrinkled up my chin, and quivered it.

   "What is it, dear?" She led me out to the garden.

   Where there was a concrete bench, just wide enough for the two of us. 
"Why did you stop teaching sunday school?" It was so romantic, but she
looked away.  I saw the way she looked back, from the front of the class,
up from my legs, spread under the desk, my skirt pulled up above my
underpants.

   "Is that what this is about?"

   "Huh!" I sighed, so she looked back.  "I miss, my momma." Then I started
tearing up, for real.

   "What happened to her?" I sniffed, but that made it hurt even worse. 
So, I hugged her, my face to her chest, and that felt a lot better.

   "She's in jail." she held my hair.  "Huh!  My poppa, nh!" I buried my
face in them, and dried my tears.  "Snh!  He took pictures of us."

   "What kinds of pictures?"

   "Naked, together."

   "And that's why you feel bad?"

   I shook my head, which only pressed my face in, one side then the other.
"Huh!  I loved her, I didn't mind.  I even liked the, sex."

   "Now," she held me out, but turned away.  "When you say sex."

   "I mean touching her, and." she looked back.  "Kissing." I closed my
eyes, and raised my chin.

   "Hh!" She didn't, so I had to take her hand, and put it in my lap.

   "Here." Her fingers trembled.

   She looked around, but there was nothing but bushes and trees.  You
could see the windows of the church, but they're high and stained to show
the stations of the cross on the floor.  She moved her hand away, but I
felt it.  The love, welling up deep inside me.  My heart beat hard enough
to thud in my ears.

   She got up, "I can't," turned away.

   "Huh!" I followed, "It's just, that ever since, well." I couldn't say
it. "Snh, I've been having these feelings."

   "They're sinful."

   "Yes, but the man, at the home." She turned back, but I couldn't look at
her.  "Uh uh uh un!" She finally took me, back in her arms.  My face in the
front of her dress, and held me, until I felt better.

   "He isn't," I nodded.

   "Mrs, Albright?" She looked down, "Why don't you have any children?  Of
your own?"

   "We can't." She doesn't want to face, her feelings.  Why she quit
teaching sunday school.

   "Well," I thought, "You think you could, adopt?" Me?  I need a mother
again, now more than ever.

   "Huh!" she shook her head, "Well?" She started, thinking about it. 
"Huh, I better get you out of that home." Good.  "Come on," she took my
hand, "Lets go back inside." The main thing is it was taking so long.  Only
having a couple hours a week, and not to myself.  Alone, together, but
this. It was only a few minutes, but I knew.  I could wait, a little
longer. I'm not Christian, it's the home.  I have reason to not have faith.
In a God, who watches over and protects, the innocent.  Yeah, well he
didn't do a very good job, not for me.

   ;

   Mrs.  Albright {FM NS CP}

   First I had to confront him.  In his office, I couldn't help glancing,
down at the back of the drawer.  Where she told me, he keeps them.  "What's
this about?"

   "Jenna Turner." I nodded.

   "Would you like to adopt her?"

   Yes, "She," oh yes.  I shook my head, "She said some things, which led
me to doubt, this is the proper place for her."

   "We take good care of our children."

   That's it.  "Yes, probably why she's so sexually precocious."

   "Excuse me?"

   "No," I stood up, "I can't."

   "Mrs.  Albright," he put up his hands, "Calm down."

   "No!" I smacked him, "She's eleven!  Some of the children in your care
are as young as six!"

   "You don't understand, she came onto me!" He sobbed.

   "Give me your keys," around the desk, "Stop sniveling, and get them out.
You know she came from the home of a child pornographer, and you Chose to
abuse her, aGain!" Full of righteous fury.

   "Stop," he just covered his head, "You're hurting me!"

   "Then get out your keys," I kicked the drawer, "Open your desk, and get
them out.  What's wrong, are you ashamed of your work?  Get them out, NOW!
Show me, how you take care of Your kids!"

   "All right, all Right!' He fumbled with them, "Just stop hitting me!"

   "And get out the papers." I threw them on the desk.  "I Will be taking
Jenny home with Me!" While he took care of the paperwork, I went through
the pictures.  Separated the ones of her, with him, the other girls, and
boys.  "Huh!" I crossed my legs.  But I could not help my anger fading. 
She hadn't been there a year, only 10 when she was left by her parents, the
incriminating photos in evidence.  But just the sight of her, naked. 
Touching them, their hands between her long, creamy pale, smooth looking
legs.  "Huh!"

   It's too late, I've seen her.  I start to shake, and cough to cover my
discomfort.  "Pay attention to your work," I set them on the seat, throw
the rest back in his face.  But he sees it too.  I have to have her.  I'm
not leaving without her, I have to touch her, feel her, kiss her and taste
her.  I lick my lips, drooling, shamefully between my legs as well.  He
sees it, he knows, I can't hide it any more.  I'm still ashamed, but that's
not enough, to stop me.

   ;

   ...In lust." {F/GM Sedu CP Mole.}

   She played hard to get.  But I could tell, she's giving up.  Fighting
it, as soon as she came in, told me to gather my things.  She acted angry,
even as the police arrived, but.  She wouldn't look at me, and when she
did. Her face relaxed, her eyes softened, and she smiled.  A moment, like
when she stole glances back at me, in the pew for the Orphanage in church.
Sitting with her husband, trying not to turn back, and look, but she
couldn't stop.  That's when I knew it was working, she would be mine, it
was only a matter of time.

   I picked her because she doesn't have kids, probably started teaching as
a way to take care of us, but that first day I saw how she looked.  Then
looked away, and she really is a very beautiful woman.  I hate to say like
a model, but she honestly could be, if you got her out of that modest
dress. Tall, and long legged, it hangs on her, covers her thighs, and
young. Like her husband, I eventually found out not yet 30.  At first it
truly was an accident, a girl jumped down from the playground, calling us
in for sunday school.  Her skirt flopped up, and over her underpants.  She
put her hands down, to catch herself.  Bent over, but exposed to the eyes
of god, pointed right back at the church.

   She looked away, but not right away, and her face was red.  The boys
laughed, they saw it too, so she had to spank her.  To set an example, in
modesty.  She really is so modest, but "There." She was still red, and
quiet.  She made us read the lesson, when normally she did, outloud for us
to follow along.  Jesus, bla bla bla, whatever.  I watch her, thinking. 
Leaned back, those long legs crossed, but her face never cooled off.  No
makeup, she sure doesn't need it, but with her hands in her lap.  They
pulled the front of her dress down, tight, over her swelling chest.  "Huh!"
deep long breaths, she looked up, "Hm?" finally looked at me.

   "Can I use the bathroom?" I sure didn't need to pee.

   "Yes, of course."

   I practiced seduction at the home.  The owner had a camera, took a
picture for the records, and would have every year, had I stayed there that
long.  My first, seduction.  I wasn't seduced, I was raised, and molested
by my father.  I liked it always.  The attention, he always made sure to
make me feel pretty.

   He was easy, though.  Too easy, I only had to ask, unbuttoning my shirt,
"Could you, take more pictures of me?" We had a darkroom, a small one next
to the arts, and crafts.  For the students, but he learned to develop them,
even as I started to develop.  I didn't have any, chest really.  When I
arrived, still didn't a year later, though my nipples swelled, and darkened
a little, to a lovely pink.  And they got so sensitive, pulling my shirt
tight over them, until he had to get me a training bra to hold them back.
But he liked them, touching them, and I loved the way his lips felt. 
Sucking one, then the other, going back and forth while he touched me
sitting on his desk.

   Then, it was just a matter of seducing the other kids.  I learned a lot
more from that.

   ;

   Linsey {GF Sedu}

   "Huh!" she called me momma.

   "You can call me Lyn." I feel bad enough about all ready.  Being her
sunday school teacher, or.  Ex-sunday school teacher.

   "Good," she giggled, "You know I love you, but." she rubbed her skirt,
"Not like a mother." Up her legs.

   "Stop that," I looked around, "It's indecent."

   "Oh," she laughed, but pulled it back down, "I know you've been having,
indecent thoughts, and feelings about me."

   "Huh!" I shook them out of my head, "Maybe this wasn't a good idea." I
knew that, didn't stop me.

   "Well, it's too late now.  You can't take me back, and."

   "Well, you're too young, to be so, sexually;" I couldn't finish that.

   "Look, I know you like to think I'm innocent, but I'm not.  Huh!  I
don't remember when I was, before my dad started taking his dirty pictures
of me.  And;"

   "That's enough, young lady!"

   "Hhihihn!  Okay, I'm sorry." At least she wiped that grin off her face,
and nodded.  "I understand, you don't like it, so I'll stop.  Huh!  To be
honest, your whole, prim and proper schoolmarm thing is kinda hot."

   At least, I couldn't deny it any more.  I tried to think I was just
imagining it.  That she was blushing in shame, not getting hot, and exited
looking at me, in class.

   "So, if you like I can play the innocent schoolgirl, you like that
better?"

   "This isn't a game, Jenna.  I'm saving you from that, horrible situation
you found yourself in, nothing more.  I." Don't have any options, "I can
agree to you staying with us, until we can find you a better place, howe',"

   "There's no better place for me."

   "However, things are going to change.  I don't want you flashing your."

   "Panties?"

   "Underwear," I took a breath.  "Huh!" another, "And any salacious
language will not be tolerated."

   "Or what, you'll spank me!"

   I shook my head.  "I will, have to think of, a more appropriate
punishment."

   "You never spanked me, I wonder why?"

   After I caught her, with one of the boys, spanking her.  I swallowed.

   "You afraid I might like it, too much?"

   "I certainly didn't believe it would improve your behavior." I wasn't
imagining, that she liked to.  Wiggling her bottom at me either.

   "Afraid that You might like it?  A little too much?"

   "Huh," I started nodding, and just straightened up.

   "So, you have thought about it."

   "Huh!" Well, "Well, I'll just have to find something you don't like."

   "To punish me?" She nodded, so I had to look away.  Back at the road,
"Cause you know, I'm a bad girl." I nodded, "You like bad girls, don't
you?"

   "Of course not."

   "Dirty little schooldgirls."

   "No," I shook my head, "Stop it!"

   "Naughty.  Oh, that's right.  I'm so naughty, you know?" I swallowed,
shook my head.  "Yeah, but you like that.  Naughty little schoolgirls."

   "Stop."

   "You'll have to spank me.  Yeah, why don't we do that?  I'll be good, as
long as you spank me."

   "What?"

   "Well, we decided it doesn't work as a punishment, so when we get home,
you'll have to spank me.  Or I'll be naughty." I was already pulling up to
the mailbox anyway.  "Wow," she looked out the window, "This it?"

   I got out, to shake my head.  Hard, but that still didn't clear the
image out of my head.  She rolled the window down before I walked around to
the mailbox side.

   "It's gonna be empty." I checked anyway, "See?  Sunday."

   Of course, I kept shaking my head on the way back.  "Well," I buckled
back up.  "You'll have to show me that you can be good." I nodded.  "I
can't reward you first, so." I pulled onto the dirt road, "You'll have to
earn it." While I try to think of a more appropriate incentive.

   "Deal." I pulled up.

   "How old is this place?"

   "I honestly don't remember," I got out, "Around the turn of the
century." Victorian, so no later than that.

   "It's beautiful." Despite myself, I smiled a while thinking she was
acting better.  To earn her "Reward," better start thinking of something
she wants more.

   "Get your things." I opened the back seat.  Then, "Huh!" Looked away
when she bent over to pull out the duffel.

   One, I don't want to give her, so badly.  Okay, somehow she divined my
weakness.  Or one, I didn't want to admit, but she pestered me so.  I
wanted to put her over my knee so badly it scared me.

   "So," she dropped her duffel, "What's naughty?  Well?  I can't avoid
something I don't know about, so."

   "Trying to seduce me." There, she lowered her eyes, and pouted.  "Yes,
let's start with that.  If you can go a week without trying to seduce me,
you'll be rewarded."

   "Ohh!" She got mad, "A whole week?"

   "Grab your things," I started up the stairs, "Here's your room.  Now get
settled."

   I went downstairs, and got out the photos.  "Huh!" I started a fire,
despite the late august heat.  Sat down, and started throwing them in.  One
by one, they were disgusting of course.  Especially the ones with that,
horrible man.  My hands shook with rage.

   However, the one of her, standing alone.  Naked, she had to have just
gotten there, her hair was noticeably shorter as it had been when she
started coming in with the other orphans.  "Hihihn!" I jumped, "Might want
to save that one." I threw it in as if had burned me.  "How about you?"

   "What about you?"

   "Well, I'm sure you don't want me to spank you, but." I closed my eyes,
shook my head, but swallowed, "You did rescue me from a child molestor. 
Maybe I should reward you too."

   I shook my head, "It was just the right thing to do."

   She nodded at the stack, "Destroying evidence, maybe you should be
spanked for that, then."

   "I thought we already discussed trying to seduce me."

   "Well,' she laughed, "Today's a bust anyway," she raised her eyebrows at
my chest, "So I'll start tomorrow."

   "Young lady," I warned.

   She snapped, "Got it!" she ran off.

   "Where are you going?"

   "I got the perfect thing."

   I shook my head, and threw the rest of the stack on.  I had to stir them
with the poker, to make sure they burned up completely, but I wasn't
destroying evidence.  I just couldn't bear the thought of, another man
looking at them.  Pictures of her, naked.  I should be ashamed of myself
for looking myself, instead of destroying them immediately.

   "Here," I looked back.

   "Jenna!" I was up, "Put your clothes back on!" I stopped, panting though
I had barely run across the room.  "Hih hin him!" But I stopped, hands up
on the door frame.  To hold myself back, because as soon as she ran,
laughing, I knew what I would do when I caught her.  Her pale, wiggling
bare round bottom.  "HhH!" I knew this was a bad idea.

   My only possible saving grace is she'll never make it a week without
trying again.  I just have to make it until my husband comes home, she
won't try anything, with him here.  I hope.

   John {GM NS}

   I sat back with my pipe, for the after dinner smoke.  That Jenna girl
knocked, "Can I come in, Mr.  Albright?"

   "What is it," she slid open the door.  Took a seat in the other chair,
sat up proper, knees together, her hands in her lap.

   "Did your wife tell you, why she quit sunday school?" She couldn't, I
shook my head.  Too painful.  "Well, I'm sorry, but I was crying.  So,
after class she asked me what was wrong, and I told her.  Why I'm an
orphan."

   "Which is?"

   "My father was arrested, for abusing me, and taking pictures."

   My eyebrow went up, "And your mother?"

   She looked away, "Well, she was in some of the pictures, too."

   "Abusing you?"

   "Naked." I puffed.  So, those kinds of pictures.  She started crying,
"She didn't want to, he made her." I'm no good at comforting grief stricken
girls.  "Hhuhuh!" She took a ragged breath.  Got up, "I'll go, but.  That's
why I had the orphanage, too.  The man who ran it..." She ran off,
"Mhmhmhmhmh!""

   To be honest, it was a little bit of a relief.  I had wondered, ever
since she had that fever.  If possibly, it had been something I had done,
or something I could have done, to stop it.  I found them in the kitchen,
but she let go of her, and kissed her head.  "Run along now." I heard her
running for the stairs.

   "What did you say?"

   "Nothing!' I put my hands up, innocently, "Huh!  She told me, why she
had to leave the home, and why that caused you to quit teaching."

   "Which is?"

   "I suppose, the stress of hearing about her," I couldn't say it,
"Abuse." She nodded, looked upset.  "If there is, anything I can do to
help."

   "Huh!" she just took off her gloves, and cried quietly in my arms. 
"Snh," she wiped her face, "If you could finish up the pots, and pans," she
headded for the dining room door, "I don't think I can handle them right
now, and Jenna needs me."

   "Of course," I bent to pick up the gloves, "Dear." I was hoping for a
quiet evening, but she always wanted a daughter.  I guess we both have to
make some sacrifices for that.  She is a darling little girl, and so well
behaved.  If the lord had saw fit to bless us with children of our own.  I
looked to the ceiling, "Sorry lord." Huh!  I just can't help but think,
they wouldn't have come with these problems.  But that's part of his plan,
it's a little reassuring, finally knowing part of what that is after all
these years.  Children like that, need the most help, and I'm happy to give
her that.  As much as I can.  "Thank you.  Amen."

   Monday {GF Nude NS}

   "All right," Huh?  "Get ready for school."

   She looked away as soon as I sat up, "Uh!" And the blanket slid down off
my chest.  "We talked about this."

   "I didn't have anything to wear," and I always slept in the alltogether,
"And besides, I went to bed last night, so it doesn't count."

   "Well, put some clothes on, and come downstairs for breakfast." I
smelled the bacon first.  Picked some jeans, my tightest pair, and the
underpants with the thick piping around my legs.  I said I wouldn't try to
seduce her, but the real rule #1 is it's not wrong if you don't get caught,
and there's always ways to get away with it.  I honestly didn't think about
her seeing me half naked, but checking myself in the mirror, the piping
printed through the bottom nicely.  I even gave it a nice swat.  "Hihihn!"
I don't really, like spanking.  So, I better get used to it, and I have a
whole week to toughen up my bottom.  I just knew she does, and it's a good
excuse to get her hand on me.  That's the trick, either I succeed, and get
what I want, or I'm good and subtle enough she spanks me.  Of course, if
she gives in before that, all bets are off.

   Not that my real mom ever, touched me.  Like that, I maybe lied a little
about that too.  But I don't want a real mom, I want her.  As a lover, I
have since the day we met.  I am in love with her, didn't even take a year,
she just plays so hard to get.  But honestly, this is the best part, my
favorite.  I love the seduction, even more than the success.  And she's
playing right into my hands, it was her idea to promise a spanking if I
made it a week.  I can do that, standing on my head.  She could have said a
month, that just makes it last even longer.  So, I guess that's the 4th way
I can win, I keep failing, and get to keep seducing her forever.  Or until
I'm old enough for her, and break up her marriage.

   I made sure to button my baggiest top all the way up.  I'm still flat,
very flat, but my nipples are big, pink, and stand out like cones in the
morning air.  It even hangs down over my bottom, so it doesn't look like
I'm trying.  What?  I covered it up, you rather I wear a skirt?  "Hehaha!"
I mean, "YEAH!" Stretch and yawn.  Now I can smell coffee through the
bacon, so I start off getting a cup.  Check the cabinet over the maker,
yup! I have to stretch to reach it, so the bottom of my shirt pulls up. 
It's like a skirt, actually more effective than being naked.  She saw it,
yesterday.  Just like she saw my nipples in the morning air.  Now, I just
have to tease her.

   "What are you doing?" Yup, red as a beet.

   Shrug, "What does it look like?" Pouring a cup of coffee.

   "I'm not sure I want to send you off to school all hopped up on
caffeine."

   "Well," I shrugged, "About that, you know I went to school at the
orphanage, right?" Her mouth fell open, "So, if you want to take me back,"
I shrugged, set the carafe back down on the coffee maker, and went to the
table for the sugarbowl.

   "Uh?" She just shook her head, in disbelief.

   "Whhhhh, Siph!" Mmh!  Needs more sugar, they brew it strong here, good!

   "Well," she thought, "I suppose I can put together a lesson plan, until
I get you registered at the elementary."

   I shook my head, "Middle school.  I'm in 8th grade?" Good grades, too, I
should test out.

   "Jr.  high, then." She dried her hands, "Give me an hour,' took off her
apron, "And meet me upstairs."

   "Okay," I got up and found a plate to serve my own bacon and eggs. 
Toast too!  I got a pat from the butter dish.

   "Hm!" Nice wooden spatula, in the jar full of ladles, and stuff.  Tried
it on my arm first,

   pap Pap PAp PAP!  "UH!" Yeah, that ought to do.  Just in case she
doesn't use her hand, like she wants to, she'd probably think of that some
time this week, and if I'm going to be ready next, sunday night?  Shake my
head, Jon'd be home, so a week from now, when he goes off to work.  "Yeah."
Then she'll teach me a lesson.

   PAP!  "OWH!" I don't know, she can hit pretty hard, but rubbing my
bottom I know definitely not to go with the piped panties, and I even feel
the jeans pockets.  So, I'll have to figure out what to wear too, but I
pour the rest of the pot in my cup, and spoon in 5 tablespoons of sugar to
cut the bitterness.  Check the clock, well it won't hurt to show up a
little early, while I'm playing the good little girl for her.

   PAP!  "Ow!  Hihihn!" Might as well get the other cheek, after all. 
Jesus.  It burns, but feels nice and warm all the way up the stairs.  I'm a
little disappointed, I imagined her in full schoolmarm, but she just
brushed her hair, didn't even do it up.  No deck either, so she just got a
chair, and card table out.  Need a chalkboard too, but she had an easel.  I
sat down, carefully, but it cooled off again by then.  I didn't realize how
tight these jeans had gotten until I tried to sit in them for over an hour,
and that just made the piping cut in even worse.  She turned back from the
lesson, "What is it, Jenny?"

   "Hm?" I bit my lip.

   "You're fidgiting, do you need to use the bathroom?"

   "Oh," I grinned, "Yeah!"

   "Well, you don't have to ask any more," her face softened, "This isn't
like sunday school."

   "Okay," I didn't run back, then shrugged and went in my new room to
change the jeans.  She noticed, when I came back.  I blushed, "They're
uncomfortable, would you prefer the jeans, or the skirt?"

   "Well," She looked down.  "It's not a particularly short skirt, but do
you have more pants?"

   "Sure," I went back.  She needs to work on her lesson plan anyway, since
I just sprung it on her this morning.  I went with slack instead of jeans,
and no underwear.  Seemed like the best compromise, but I kept the baggy
sack of a shirt on.  No need to overdo it, that's how I get caught, and
ruin everything.  I checked myself in the mirror, "You have all week,
Jenny." I nodded back.  Better to take my time, and savor it than blow it
by rushing ahead.  Then I needed to pee, 2 cups of coffee, but that was
plenty of time for her to get it together.

   .

   ,

   {You guys don't mind if I skip ahead, right?  Good.}



   ...In Love"

   Linsey {GF NS}

   I finished up early, or ran out of History books to teach her.  "Come
on," she finally settled on a fairly modest pair of slacks to go with her
button up shirt, "I need to get a few things, so we might as well beat the
school traffic."

   "Like what?"

   "Well, other than a decent nightgown, I need to hit the library for some
books, and there's a few sundries I could stand to get while we're in
town."

   I must say, she was remarkably well behaved.  I can't say whether it was
the, incentive, she stopped acting out to try to make me spank her, was
showing off for the other kids, or my constant supervision, but.  "Are you
hungry?  We didn't even break for lunch." On 2 cups of coffee as well, and
she couldn't possibly weigh a hundred pounds.  Other than the several
bathroom breaks in the morning, she was a perfect angel, and "I'm proud of
you."

   "What for?"

   "For being so well behaved." She nodded, smiling brightly, "So, whatever
you would like," I immediately reconsidered, "Within reason."

   "Well, I prefer to sleep in the alltogether," she shrugged, "Always did,
but if it would make you more comfortable, let's start there."

   "All right," I headded for the department store.

   "Lyn?"

   "Yes, dear."

   "Huh," I glanced over to see she seemed upset.  "I lied." She held her
arms.  "My momma, she didn't touch me." I started getting mad, but then she
started crying.  "Snh, she found them." she sobbed, "Shthe pictures, so she
called the cops, and.  HuhH H H!" She tried to suck in a breath.

   "Oh," I unhooked her safety belt, and pulled her over with my arm, but
the light changed.

   "Ahuhuhuhuh!" She sobbed so loud, it broke my heart.  "Sh hi hi hi! 
Then she, she locked herself, SNH!  In the bathroom, and, uh!  She cut her
wrists..." I just pulled over to hold her, until she cried out.

   "Oh," that's so horrible!  "Oh dear," I patted her hair on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry.  It will be all right now." I lied, "Hh, I'm
so glad you told me, but that, uh!" unimaginable, "Is in the past.  If
there's anything, I can do, anything at all?" She just shook her head, so I
turned off the engine, and held her until she was done.

   "Huh!" several minutes later, she sat up.  From my lap.  "SNH!"

   I reached over for the glovebox, "Here," handed her the napkins.  So,
she blew her nose, and wiped her eyes.

   "Mrs, Lindsay?"

   "Yes dear?"

   "I love you." She said it before, but.  This was different.  She didn't
just say it differently, it felt different.  "Huh, can I call you mom,
now?"

   "Yes," I decided, "Of course you can, dear." I felt more like a mother
now, too.

   "Ooh!" she picked the silkiest slip imaginable.

   "Don't you think, that's a little," sexy?  "Huh, revealing?"

   "Revealing what?" she pulled her shirt out, "Huh, I'm eleven.  Flat as a
boy."

   "Well;" I couldn't go on.  Mention her nipples, which were definitely
not 'flat as a boy's' this morning, but it's not the sort of thing you
mention, in public.

   "Can I at least try it on?"

   Her green eyes, seemed to shine brighter holding up the muted pink. 
"Let me see that," I held up the tag, Rayon, "Look," I held up one with, a
layer of ruffles around the neck.

   "That looks hot, and" she pointed, "It's got straps."

   "What's wrong with straps?"

   "To sleep in?" she shook her head.  "You said 'whatever you would
like'," she held it up, "And i like this.  It's a slip too, so i can wear
it under dresses."

   "But it's such a light fabric."

   "Yeah, so it's not hot?  Come on, let me try it on." She practically
dragged me to the fitting room, and "See?" she pulled back the curtain. 
"Uh!  You're gonna tuck me in tonite, and get me up in the morning again?
You might as well look.  See?  It covers my knees and everything."

   "Well," I wasn't worried about her knees, but she was looking down, and
petting it over her tummy.  Even pulled tight like that, she did indeed
look about as flat as a boy, so to speak.  So, I worried for nothing.  "All
right, put your shirt back on." She giggled, and bounced, so I pulled the
curtain for her.

   "Jesus, what a Prude!"

   "I heard that?"

   "I knoOw!"
   ;