Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
No. 110 alt.sex.stories
D R E A M G I R L S S T O R I E S
Love Child
Part Three
by Andrew Roller
Chapter One
"No!" I said. I cast my eyes wildly at Kimber. To be eaten by men
was one thing, bad enough, but a woman?! I couldn't. She thrust her
face forward. It was smooth against my thighs. I had no choice.
Long nailed fingertips expertly spread me. My tightness was
stretched open, pulled apart. Was this some gynecological exam for
virgins? Then her tongue, soft, probing. Deep it went, tasting my
hymen, relishing it. Not often, I was sure, did these guests get to taste
such a rare flower. How long would I remain so? Men were disrobing
now, I saw through bleared eyes. Enormous pricks sprung eagerly into
the study's stuffy air. Women cooed at the sight, let themselves out of
their own clothing.
Perhaps virgin boys watched X-rated movies as they dreamed of
their adult futures, but a girl like me never had. I was shocked,
frightened even, as I saw for the first time what grownups did in their
spare time. Nay, not their spare time. This was prime time. All else
was mere resting between bouts in bed. For young adults work was the
resting place, the bedchamber at night the place of labor. The young
men and women around me got down to business, inspiring the older
men, who soon joined them.
Debbi was brushing one of my nipples with her fingertips, idly,
like some child toying with a button. Her other hand stroked her inner
thigh repeatedly. Kimber walked over to her, embraced her from behind.
Debbi offered her lips, tossing her head back over her shoulder. They
kissed, long and luxuriously. Then, holding Debbi from behind, Kimber
glanced over the little brunette's shoulder and pulled open the front of
Debbi's panties. Both of them looked down for a moment at the pretty
thatch inside. They smiled. Kimber took Debbi's hand and placed it
within Debbi's opened panties. The girl shivered thankfully. She began
rubbing herself where it counted.
Sweet, musky odors began assailing my nostrils. Something I'd
only ever smelled with myself before, when I became too urgent in the
middle of the night, alone in my bed at home. The scent of love. And a
new smell, that of the male! I relished it even as I cringed at its
pungency. Not the odor itself, I guess, as much as what it meant.
Thousands of little white fish-tailed men being loosed right here,
within the book-lined walls of this staid study, only feet from my own
womb. There was no going back from this, I knew. That male odor
would draw me in, fish to the fish-men. My hymen was an endangered
species.
Kimber stepped away from Debbi. She reached up to a shelf, drew
down another incongruous item for a study. It was a little whip. For
ponies perhaps, or dogs. She reached out and drew down the back of
Debbi's panties so that they bunched under her bottom. Newly exposed,
I saw in a mirror their whiteness. They jiggled slightly, as Debbi
masturbated. A flick of Kimber's wrist then and the whip went sailing
in to strike across the trembling globes. Debbi bit her lip, stifled a cry.
Yet with her free hand she did not try to protect herself. Kimber
rimmed her lips with her tongue and struck the girl again, harder.
"Ooo!" Debbi yelped, choking off her cry in what I guessed was an
attempt to be a good girl under the sting of the lash. Someone had told
me once that girls must strive to keep quiet during a whipping, hadn't
they? Or was I just imagining such things. What did I know about
whippings? My mind trolled through the chatter in the girls' locker
room. Whispered passions, shared amidst giggles, perhaps I'd overheard
it, dismissed it at the time as utter nonsense. Now it came back to me,
full force. And something else also.
Sometime during my half-remembered imaginings the cultured
woman at my snatch had become satiated. A man stood before me now,
presenting his thing boldly. He seemed not to want to kneel. Ah! No!
Could it be? The male seed was drawing nearer. My lips, yes, he
wanted my lips, but not my well spread virgin ones down below.
"Have you ever sucked cock?" he husked. He was young. His dick,
unmilked yet, wiggled frantically. He was certainly no slouch when it
came to looks. Had he saved himself for me? Amidst the moans all
around us he presented himself to me then, eased my teeth apart with
his fingers, pushed the rubicund tip right between my lips. It settled
on my tongue. I tasted precum for the first time. It drooled within me,
pooling in the back of my mouth, running down my throat in light
trickles.
"Suck," he commanded, jutting his chin out. I looked up at him. My
eyes met his. He would brook no disobedience, I knew. My mouth closed
reflexively, fearfully upon him. With his palms he stroked my blushing
cheeks. Still staring up at him I began suctioning his tool, his very
manhood, the soul of his being throbbing wetly in my all-enclosing
orifice. Yet some of him remained without, in the cool dry air. He
wanted that in me too. Pushing forward he made me take more of his
stem. I felt his cockhead bump the back of my throat. Kimber left off
her whipping for a moment to snap a picture of me. I saw it later, my
cheeks bulging, eyes popping, as the big cock was forced more deeply
within, still half at least luridly poised without. Crisscrossed with big
blue veins, the penis arced through the air. It looked, I thought later,
like a dolphin, its ends concealed but its back arching in the gleaming
sunlight. No head, no tail, just the powerful arching back and belly.
Like a dolphin in mid-dive. Except the head of the cock was banging
against the back of my throat.
"More, you can take more," Kimber urged. She smoothed her hand
across my forehead. My cheeks collapsed and I sucked deeply upon the
rod. I choked, gasped, my mouth opening, my breath flowing out around
it. He eased gently back a bit, I thanked him for it with my eyes. But
then he shoved forward again. I would not be let off so easy.
"Practise," Kimber said. She returned to Debbi. The brunette was
weeping and thrusting her bottom out. Both her hands were jammed
between her thighs.
"Yes, the air is nice and cool, isn't it?" Kimber asked her. "But I
am not going to let you feel only the cool air just yet. A few more
strokes are in order for a bad girl who plays with herself, yes indeed!"
And DebbiÕs waggling hiney, so desperate to cool its fiery surface, was
assailed yet again by KimberÕs whip.
My lover plumbed my depths, urging himself more and more into
my throat, backing off only when I choked and then driving forward
again. I sucked now out of desperation, hoping against hope to bring
him off and end this suffocating torment. He grinned down at me and
told me I was doing a good job. He ran his fingers through my hair. I,
who had been so haughty, as some of my classmates imagined, an "ice
princess," was now reduced to a gagging wench. I wished I could bring
my hands to bear upon him, but they were tied uselessly above my head.
Only my mouth could bring him off, my novice mouth, which at the park
had slurped dreamily upon a cherry popsicle, imagining. Now I had the
real thing, and it didn't melt, no matter how much you tongued it. But it
might, it SHOULD, at any rate, deflate, if only I knew how. Something
about butterflies surfaced in my subconscious and my tongue leapt.
The man felt me against the underside of his cock and he
trembled. My first sign of hope. I looked up at him. He seemed to be
arguing with himself. Something told me that if I could get my flitting
tongue under the head of his penis, he would be through. But the head
was back, too far into me. I looked at him with appealing eyes. He
wanted that virgin tongue of mine right where it counted most, now
that I knew how to use it. Giving up on plundering my throat he pulled
out partway, until his cockhead rested upon the tip of my newly trained
tongue.
I didn't waste any time seizing my opportunity. My tongue
titillated his most sensitive spot like a little Amazon in heat. I let my
lips part and heard a rapid, lapping sound. My man shuddered. His face
became haggard. He didn't want to cum and yet he must! Oooh, yes,
baby, you are mine now, totally within my power. I am the cat that
freezes the mouse with its gaze. He grabbed at my hair. His hips
bucked. But he never let himself stray from my wicked tongue. Right
there, under the cockhead, where a man loves it most but can stand it
least.
"Oh, God, no!" he cried. Had he been promised more than just my
mouth...if he could hold it? Too late! My first taste of sperm burst into
my mouth. It felt like Old Faithful was creaming me. His cum geysered
down my throat, hot and sticky. I moved my tongue more rapidly,
delighted at my triumph.
Slowly, slowly then he began to limpen. With a toss of my head
finally I got my mouth free of him. He wanted me to lick him until he
came up again but, though tied, I gave him a sullen, defiant pout.
Kimber intervened then and thanked him. His manhood deflated, he
withdrew, giving me a last hopeful look over his shoulder before being
welcomed back into the crowd by an eager woman.
Kimber smiled at me. She kissed me on the lips. "Well, you've
been a busy girl today." She ran her hands through my hair, combing it
with her fingers. I smacked my lips, amazed at the semen smeared all
over them, the goo coating the inside of my mouth. My tongue wanted to
stick to the roof of my mouth.
"If you like the white stuff, we've been invited to where there's
lots more of it. The Andes, as a matter of fact, to a certain
gentleman's chalet,Ó Kimber grinned down at me. ÒPractise on a few
more men tonight and then we'll get some shut eye, and leave in the
morning."
CHAPTER TWO
If anyone in the study had been promised my hymen, the offer
must have been withdrawn once Kimber received the note inviting us to
the Andes. Apparently a woman at the party, approving of my looks and
my demeanor, had telephoned a certain wealthy Argentinean general
right from KimberÕs study. And he had issued an invitation, which she
had passed along to Kimber. The remaining men who pumped me that
evening came without regret, spending within my mouth quite happily.
They were lined up three deep at one point, each determined to get his
chance at my newly debauched mouth. My lips were sore when it finally
ended. Several times more a woman came to my snatch, but tongued me
gently so as not to damage my hymen in any way. It had, apparently,
some new value.
A small private jet whisked us toward our destination early the
next morning. There was myself, Kimber, and Debbi on the plane, plus a
pilot, co-pilot, and a middle-aged woman who fed us and served us
cocktails. I asked Kimber if she was saving my virginity for someone.
"A little at a time, darling," Kimber replied. "I was eager to see
you lose it, but now, well, perhaps we can delay the ceremony a bit,
hmmm?"
"It's mine, isn't it?" I asked.
"Of course." She rose, excused herself and went into the plane's
bathroom.
"Don't think your asshole will be so lucky," Debbi smirked.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I hear the general we're visiting is an ass man," Debbi said.
"Oh, poof," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I only accepted
an invitation to come, not to, you know, cum."
I turned and gazed out the window. The fertile green fields below
were giving way to mountains. They rose powerfully up from the
landscape. Their tops were wreathed in clouds. This was, wasn't it,
the 90's? A girl like me could do as she pleased. I could tease men, or
not, as my heart fancied. There were rape laws to protect girls like
me. Even Mike Tyson knew that. So let some man invite me to his
mountain chalet. Janet Reno would protect me, and Oprah Winfrey too.
I'd do just what I wanted, when I wanted, and no more.
I pressed my nose to the windowpane. I watched as clouds drifted
by. Sometimes they obscured the view below, sometimes not. I looked
for Zeus in the darker clouds but did not see him.
Some time later we broke through an underlying cloud bank and a
vista of pure snow opened up before me. Where there was no snow,
there was rock. It jutted up from the blanketing frost, rude, thrusting,
certain of its destiny. The snow attempted to calm the rocks, it
seemed to me, soothe their passionate yearnings. And indeed one day
the snow would win entirely, submerging the once mighty precipices
below the all-encompassing sea. In their youth the mountains would
reign, the snow submissive, content to be mere icing, ornamental,
amongst the steep crags and cliffs. In old age the mountains would be
reduced to sloping, flabby hills, built upon by peasants, trod on by
munching cows. All would end as sand. The ocean would cover up the
remnants. Crabs and sea urchins would burrow in the residue, like
worms infesting a corpse.
But I was in the mountains now. Here vigor reigned still. A
wrong turn of our gliding airplane would dash me to pieces against
some cliff-face. Alive one moment, dead the next. Bristling winds
buffeted our craft as the pilot carefully nosed his way amidst the
enclosing crags toward our destination.
ÒOooh! Look! SantaÕs Village!Ó I cried out suddenly. I pointed at a
cluster of tiny dwellings down below. As our plane banked I saw more,
here and there, across the snow. They were mansions, I realized, as our
plane dropped down. Toy mansions now, to my view, not just dots. And
then vehicles began to appear.
The snow came down around us in soft bits of flurries. We
descended as if into one of those round glass bubbles you see in stores,
shake them and see Frosty get his head coated with drifting flakes.
Down the plane slipped, circling, the buildings became more visible as
we flew lower. Different shapes, sizes, different types of
construction.
We bumped down on the runway. The plane taxied a bit, then
stopped.
ÒTime to get out,Ó Kimberly grinned at me. I collected my purse,
my teddy bear. The co-pilot came back and opened the door for us,
tipped his hat to us as we stepped out.
It was cold! I drew my fur coat close about me. Unsteady in my
boots after sitting on the plane, I clambered down the gangway steps.
A sleigh awaited us. Big horses, shaggy hoofed, with the
enclosing sleigh to protect us from the whistling, icy winds. I was
helped up into the sleigh by a uniformed footman. As I sat down on the
sleighÕs leather bench I felt my skirt, inside my fur coat, slip up to
reveal my pantied ass. Were it not for my coat, I would have been
sitting on the leather, and it was moist with fallen snow. My skirt was
short, miniscule, daring in its sexiness to the point of being obscene.
Kimber had insisted that I wear it, as a sexy treat for myself, feeling
my vulnerability even as I sat encumbered in the bulkiness of my fur
wrap. I was ambivalent. Sure, it was sexy to wear the skirt, but what
about when I took my coat off? KimberÕs dress was just as short. We
were twin Òcherry-bombs,Ó she said, and the general had better watch
out if we went off in his mansion. Well, I was cherry, that was for
sure. Kimber just looked cherry, passing for seventeen, perhaps, if you
didnÕt know her age. She liked toying with menÕs minds, telling men she
was too young for them, when in fact I suspected that she was vastly
more experienced than most of the men in Buenos Aires, all put
together. She exuded sexuality. Her walk, the casual toss of her head
as she explained some finer sexual point to me, the swell of her
bosoms, taunting in their bigness, bursting forth from her waif-like
figure.
D R E A M G I R L S N E W S
ATTENTION BILL BENNETT
by holy moly
I talked to God last night. I asked him about Bill Bennett (you know,
the guy who wrote The Book of Virtues). I expected to hear high praise.
But I didnÕt. At first, God thought I was asking about Crassus.
ÒOh. Bennett! Sorry. Yes, he has got it all wrong,Ó God said. ÒWhen
I created Adam and Eve, I put them in the GARDEN of Eden. This should tell
you something, right off the bat. Man (and woman) is intended to be a
vegetarian. Broccoli, Celery, Beans, that sort of thing is fit for man to
eat. I put Adam in the Garden to name the animals, not to kill them.
ÒThere are 5 billion people on this planet today. Many, if not most of
them, go to bed hungry every night. Many are malnourished from birth,
resulting in a Ôtwilight mentality,Õ which prevents them from even
experiencing life on this planet as a human, though they amble about in
emaciated, human bodies. Meanwhile, Bill Bennett and his pal Rush
Limbaugh stuff their faces in New YorkÕs toniest restaurants, consuming
entire tables of food. This is what I call ÒFood Abuse,Ó and it is the
highest sin. ThatÕs right, one of my prophets (or somebody) screwed up
the Table of Sins. (He was probably a big eater, like Bennett.) GLUTTONY
is the greatest sin.
ÒBennett likes to go on and on about Sex being the greatest sin. This
is probably because his stomach is so big that he canÕt find his pecker.
Hey man, I created man and woman. Why the fuck do you think I CREATED
them with dicks and cunts? Why the fuck do you think I said, ÒBe Fruitful
and Multiply?Ó In Genesis 17:2 I say to Abraham, ÒI will confirm my
covenant between me and you and WILL GREATLY INCREASE YOUR
NUMBERS.Ó How the hell do you think I expected to do that, if not by plenty
of Sex?
ÒHumans are supposed to have sex. They are supposed to create five
billions of themselves, or more. It is a test, to see if you are
compassionate enough to see that every man, woman, and child gets his
proper share of food. The answer is not to ban sex, or strictly limit it, as
Bennett wishes to. BE FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY! Then, having been
fruitful, feed and care for your fellow man, just as my son Jesus fed and
cared for you.
ÒBENNETT! I expect you to weigh 130 pounds next year, and I expect
you to spend the SAME amount on food next year as you do today. However,
the ÒexcessÓ that you spend on food will be going to feed hungry children,
not your fat ass. You might have to talk less to accomplish this. But if
you quit talking, give up all your worldly possessions, and follow me; if
you go forth into the barrios, the slums, and the ghettos and FEED my
children (instead of pretending to ÒprotectÓ them while they starve to
death), then you may enter into my kingdom upon your death. Remember:
it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a
rich man to get into heaven.
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