From an482423@anon.penet.fi Sat Jun 01 05:41:04 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST: Chelsea on Fantasy Island Pt I (f/m+, pedo, nc)
From: an482423@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 1 Jun 1996 09:41:04 UTC
....................................................
Standard Disclaimers Apply
....................................................
If you're young, ask your mother.
If you're married, ask your wife.
If you're religious, ask your pastor if he liked it.
....................................................
The Island
Chelsea has just turned twelve, just entering that fascinating time called
puberty. She is as yet a bit shy with boys, but increasingly interested
nevertheless. She is tallish for her age, slender, firm and muscular in a
decidedly feminine way, and fair-skinned. She often ties back her
shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail like she has seen in those
beach-blanket movies. Her startlingly blue eyes float in a sea of freckles
atop a pug nose. Everyone considers her unusually pretty,
This summer Chelsea and her family are taking their summer vacation at a
resort on a lake in the mountains. There is a wooded island in the center of
the lake. From the resort, the island looks totally uninhabited. The island
is variously called Fantasy Island and Terror Island. Many evenings around
the campfire, Chelsea's new friends tell stories about the island. One says
that it's full of snakes and vermin. Another says it's full of wolves and
wild animals. Still another says it's inhabited by a band of wild Indians.
Chelsea herself is not inclined to believe any of their stories. She thinks
the stories were made up by someone just to keep people off the island.
Chelsea's new friends dare her to spend the night alone on the island. At
first she resists, but in the end, wanting to fit in, she agrees.
She arranges to have her family believe she is spending the night with a
friend. In the late afternoon, she takes a row boat across the lake to the
island. The sky is clear. A light warm breeze is blowing across the water.
Arriving on the distant shore, she beaches the boat and ties it down.
After carrying her things ashore, she decides to look around the island. The
island is covered with pine trees. Their fallen needles make a smooth
natural carpet under the trees. The carpet is dotted with flowers here and
there where the sunlight breaks through. A few bushes have sprouted from
underneath the needles. Otherwise the ground is rather clear. She hears
birds singing in the trees. She notices one bush with berries on it. They
look a little like grapes or currants. The first one tastes pretty good, so
she picks a handful more to munch on as she looks around. She vaguely
wonders if they're safe.
After exploring a bit more, she notices that the sun is going down. She
selects a snug-looking spot to make camp. She has brought a sleeping bag and
a blanket. The night air is so comfortable that she spreads the sleeping bag
and blanket on the ground, planning to sleep on top of the stack. As
darkness begins to surround her, she sees the full moon through the
treetops. She takes off her shoes, and lies down on the camp bed. As she
thinks about the stories of the island she has heard, she drifts off to sleep.
***
After a bit, she is awakened by a rustling in the bushes. About half-a-dozen
boys surround her. Looking up, she notices that most are about the size of
the boys in her junior high school. One, apparently the leader, is a bit
older, maybe high school. They are nearly naked, wearing only loincloths to
cover their private parts, and scary looking masks on their faces. The older
one has a single feather stuck in the middle of the forehead of his mask.
She jumps up and tries to run. They chase her through the trees. No one says
a word, but the boys make strange animal-like noises.
The four younger boys finally catch her. Two grab her arms, two her legs,
dragging her to the ground. She squirms and struggles to get loose from
their grip, but to no avail. Suddenly, the boys holding her ankles grab the
legs of her shorts and give a sharp tug. Off come her shorts. The boys
release her and run into the woods.
Relieved, she begins to walk back in the direction she thinks will take her
back to her camp. She's not sure what's going on, but she is glad she
brought an extra change of clothes.
Suddenly, out of the shadows, the boys appear again. She runs; they chase.
After a few dozen yards, they catch her again. And again, there's one boy to
each arm and leg. Once again, they drag her to the ground. The boys holding
her arms grope down towards her waist. Suddenly they grab her shirt, release
her arms, and pull the shirt over her head. The other boys release her legs,
and they all run back into the woods.
Now this leaves Chelsea rather bare. She hadn't worn a bra, since her
breasts had just begun to develop, and she liked them to show a little.
Besides, bras are so uncomfortable, and unnecessary anyway at her stage of
development. So all she has left is her pretty pink lacy panties. Again she
heads for camp, extra thankful for the change of clothes she had brought,
just in case. Of course, not in case of this!
Then, it happens. The boys show up again. She runs, harder and faster than
ever. But they chase with equal vigor. Even if she is faster, though, there
are more of them, and she figures she'll probably be caught.
And they catch her. Same routine. One per arm and leg. She is terribly
embarrassed. Nearly everything is showing. It's dark, but not that dark, and
the moon is full, sending shafts of light through the trees. The leg-boys
grope for her panties. She struggles, but their determination prevails. Off
they come, those pretty pink lacy panties. They stare; she blushes. After
what to her seems like an eternity, but what to the boys is probably just an
instant, they release her again, and run off into the darkness. Off she runs
in the opposite direction, stark naked.
Now she's a bit scared. Naked, in a forest, on an island. How do you explain
that? Besides, she's never been naked before, except in the shower. And
she'd never been seen naked by anyone except the girls in gym class at
school. Certainly no boy has ever seen her in this condition!
Then too, it is a bit exciting. If she weren't so scared and embarrassed,
she might even enjoy this experience. The excitement might have even made
her wet her pants. That is, if she had had any on.
So she wanders on, hoping to find her camp. After a while, she stumbles into
a tree-less clearing. It's quiet and calm. The moon is high, full and
bright, almost like daylight. The air is warm. The fear has begun to wear
off, and she's gotten more or less used to her clothes-less state, so it's
beginning to feel kinda neat, as she would have put it.
Looking around, she sees no one, nor anything that might indicate imminent
danger. So she decides to make the best of it. Why not dance a little in the
moonlight? Run and play. How often would she get this kind of chance,
anyway? So she dances, runs, jumps, flip-flops, practices her cheerleading,
gymnastics, and jazz-dance.
Since she's that kind of an athlete, she is in superb shape. She is tall for
her age, slender and shapely, without an ounce of fat anywhere. Her flawless
skin glows in the moonlight. When she stands still, she looks like a marble
statue of a young goddess. When she moves, she resembles a cross between an
angel and a forest nymph.
Cavorting in the moonlight, naked as a jaybird, gives her a sense of freedom
that quite exhilarates her. She would have never thought of doing this
herself. But finding herself in the situation, she quite enjoys it. It
escapes her mind to think that the boys might be watching. Although by now,
even if she had thought of it, she might have even decided to give them a show.
And quite a show it would have been. Her supple body moves as gracefully as
a gazelle, as lightly as a silk handkerchief in the air, as sensually as
Venus herself. She begins to dance, first remembering the ballet she had
learned as a little girl. She tries the movements she has seen on television
and in the movies, swinging her hips and shoulders. She gently touches
herself, outlining her figure with her fingertips. She imitates poses she
has seen in the paintings in museums and in art photograph albums. She
discovers that she enjoys feeling that she is beautiful, her body is
beautiful, her nakedness is beautiful. She wonders why she had never noticed
before.
Suddenly, without warning, the boys burst into the clearing. She realizes
that she has had an audience. She panics and runs. They chase her. Soon
she's surrounded, and they catch her. The boys touch her naked body all
over, groping clumsily, particularly at her breasts, buttocks and pubic
area. After an eternity of a few moments the leader claps his hands and the
boys grow still.
Forcing her to the center of the clearing, they pull her to the ground. They
slip soft ropes around each wrist and ankle. Then she hears the sound of
hammering against metal. She strains to see that they are driving stakes
into the ground, and fastening the ropes to the stakes. Then the boys
disappear into the woods, leaving her bound hand and foot, in an X-like
position, spread-eagle, naked, facing the sky.
In the moonlight, she can see some of herself as she raises up her head. She
had noted recently in the shower that each of her budding breasts is less
than a handful. And her hands are still small themselves. Small thought they
may be, they are firm and nicely shaped. Her fair skin is even more fair
under her clothes, and the moonlight lightens her skin further, so that her
breasts resemble scoops of vanilla ice cream with a tiny almond on top of each.
Her hips have started to widen a little, complementing her athletic body
with the beginnings of a classically womanly figure. Her torso is well
defined, like a Greek statue. She could have been the model for Venus de
Milo. Her skin is flawless, except for an occasional freckle to add character.
Her central mound is statuesque, pronounced but not protuberant, lean and
delicately cleft, with the central fold just peeking out. No pubic hair has
developed yet, as if not to obscure such a perfect sight. Unlike many of her
friends, she has not had her first period.
She is intensely aware that her genitals are exposed in her current state.
Facing the moon as they are, she is thankful it's nighttime. That way,
she'll only get a moon tan down there, rather than a sunburn.
The bindings are secure but not particularly uncomfortable. She struggles at
first, then realizes that the bindings are getting tighter as she struggles.
So she relaxes.
She feels profoundly alone and vulnerable. There is little sound, except for
the usual sounds of nature at night. She wonders what's next; whether this
is part of the dare. It certainly fits the name Terror Island. She
contemplates her nakedness, the touching, the feeling. Is it good, is it
bad, is it both? Ah yes, Fantasy Island. But whose fantasy? Suddenly tired,
her mind overloaded with feelings and thoughts, she drifts off to sleep again.
...............................................
... to be continued ... if there's interest ...
...............................................
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From an482423@anon.penet.fi Sat Jun 01 05:41:45 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST: Chelsea on Fantasy Island Pt II (f/m+, pedo, nc)
From: an482423@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 1 Jun 1996 09:41:45 UTC
....................................................
Standard Disclaimers Apply
....................................................
If you're young, ask your mother.
If you're married, ask your wife.
If you're religious, ask your pastor if he liked it.
....................................................
The Island, Part II
She is awakened by a touch on her shoulder, near her neck. Opening her eyes,
she sees no one. She reasons it must be an animal of some sort. She stays
still. Whatever it is slithers over her shoulder and onto her chest. Now she
can see that it is a snake. Fear keeps her still and quiet. The snake slowly
moves onto her breasts, then stops there. The motion tickles. She notices
that the snake is not slimy, as she would have expected, but cool and
smooth. It doesn't exactly feel bad on her breasts, but there is still fear.
Then she admits that it feels pretty good, and the feelings are intensified
by the excitement.
The snake moves, slithering down her torso, across her belly button. It
stops with its head on the crest of her pubic bone, just above her most
private part. As he moves his head from side to side (she assumes by now it
must be a boy snake), in the midst of fear she also feels stimulated. It's a
little like the feelings she has when she washes that part in the shower.
But since she's not doing it herself, it feels different. A little more
intense, a little more sensual.
The snake slithers on, down her private parts, as though he knew exactly
where the best parts were. The feelings are strong, and really good. She
hopes for more. But as the end of his tail loses contact with her body, she
is almost sorry he's gone. He did give her some really good feelings. But
she's very glad he didn't bite. Savoring the feelings, she drifts off to
sleep again.
***
She is awakened again, this time by sound. As she opens her eyes, she sees
the boys standing around her. They are making grunting, groaning, chanting
noises. No words. They begin to move in a circle around her, slowly, to the
rhythm of their strange music.
Their faces are still covered, but their loincloths are gone. It's the first
time she's ever seen a boy's private parts (except for her baby brother).
She and her girl friends talk about them sometimes, especially in gym class.
And she's seen the pictures in sex-ed books at school. But those were just
drawings. These are the real thing.
The boys are standing directly beside her. In the moonlight she can see the
objects of interest clearly. These young boys are still bald also. Their
instruments remind her of asparagus spears. Except these have a little
mushroom head on them. She's never liked asparagus before, but she might
change her mind now. They're still smallish, but larger than her baby
brother! The little things aren't ugly at all, like she and her friends used
to say in gym class.
The boys' bodies are all slender and firm-looking. She wonders if their
faces are as cute as their bodies.
She notices their privates are becoming enlarged, firm, and erect. The
sex-ed book had explained that it happened when the male is sexually
stimulated. The boys begin to rub their groins with their hands, just inside
the things, around and behind the little marble-bags behind the erect parts.
They begin to touch their privates, gently at first. Then with one hand,
they take a firm hold of their privates, wrapping their fingers and thumb
around the little things. They increase the tempo of the music, and stroke
their privates in rhythm, as the tempo increases even more. She wonders if
this is the hand job that she had heard about. Soon, each one loses the
rhythm, breaking into a cacophony of sound and motion.
At the peak of activity, the boys kneel down so that their privates are just
a few inches from her body. Suddenly, one of the privates seems to explode,
squirting something out directly onto Chelsea's breast. This substance is
thicker than water, which is what she had expected. One by one, the others
have the same experience.
By the time all have finished, she is covered from breast to privates. They
boys smear the sticky stuff all over her torso, up to her breasts, and down
to her pubis, rubbing it in like suntan lotion. It's weird, but it also
feels good to be rubbed, especially in those places. And seeing their
manhood, and feeling the liquid life that has been deposited on her body,
just intensifies the feelings.
Then she notices the leader. His instrument is notably larger. The base of
it is surrounded by small tufts of curly hair. He strokes his instrument,
slowly and rhythmically, increasing the frequency as time passes. Soon he
kneels also, and squirts. Both the quantity and force of his emission is
much greater that that of the younger boys. After a moment, he stands, and
the other boys stand with him. They turn and retreat into the woods.
She wishes they hadn't left so soon. The rubbing and touching was really
nice. Still fascinated by what she has just seen and felt, she wonders about
the deposited substance. As she replays the scene in her mind, she drifts
off to sleep yet again.
***
She is awakened again. This time by a cold, wet, rubbing on her breast. She
opens her eyes to see the largest dog she's ever seen. Or is it a wolf?
It seems to be licking the substance off of her that the boys had left. He
(for she knows where to look and how to tell on a dog) is gentle. The
stimulation to her breasts results in a tingling sensation that she has
never experienced before. Like the boys' touching, only much more so. He
licks one breast, then the other. Then her stomach, then the breasts, then
the belly button, then the breasts again. She notices that her nipples have
gotten hard and erect. The feeling is exquisite.
He moves his body so that his legs are between her legs. He licks down her
torso, moving slowly below the belly button. As he cautiously approaches her
pubic mound, she begins to shiver and tremble. She remembers the feelings
from the snake. He licks the summit of the mound, and she is electrified.
Then he begins licking the private part. It's like nothing she could have
ever imagined. She shakes and trembles and shivers and groans. He continues,
moving around, up and down, but always returning to the important part. She
wants to cry out, but is afraid of scaring him away. Her feelings and
movements increase. She gasps for breath. Her trembling and groaning
increases. She moves along with his motions.
Finally, she can be quiet no longer. In a frenzy of feelings and trembling
and shaking, she cries out in a great release of emotional and physical
energy. To her dismay and frustration, he bolts and runs back into the
woods. Soon she lies still, the sensations quickly subsiding. Exhilarated
but exhausted, she falls asleep.
...............................................
... to be continued ... if there's interest ...
...............................................
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From an482423@anon.penet.fi Sat Jun 01 05:41:30 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST: Chelsea on Fantasy Island Pt III (f/m+, pedo, nc)
From: an482423@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 1 Jun 1996 09:41:30 UTC
....................................................
Standard Disclaimers Apply
....................................................
If you're young, ask your mother.
If you're married, ask your wife.
If you're religious, ask your pastor if he liked it.
....................................................
The Island, Part III
She awakens to find herself face down. She wonders how they ever
accomplished that without wakening her. She wonders why she awakens now,
after all the rearrangement is over. At least, she reasons, her back side
will get equal moontan time.
Her back side is as perfect as her front side. Her skin is light and
flawless. She has a spray of freckles on her shoulders. Near her waistline
she has a pair of dimples.
Her bottom is a picture of perfection. Each cheek is round and full, but not
overlarge. The skin is pale, like her breasts. The cleft enhances the
resemblance to a Greek goddess.
As she contemplates her new situation, she feels a gentle touch on her
shoulders. Though she can't see directly, she can tell by the shadow that it
is the older boy, the one with the feather. He is straddling her back,
massaging her shoulders. As he moves back, massaging her back, she feels a
third touch. After a bit she realizes it must be his third leg. As his hands
reach the small of her back, his organ begins to touch her bottom. As his
hands rub her back, his organ rubs the cleavage of her cheeks.
He moves back further. His organ loses contact with her bottom, and he
begins to massage her cheeks with his hands. He seems to take particular
interest in this area. His fingers explore her cheeks and the cleft.
Occasionally he brushes against the opening, and she shivers. It begins to
feel good, and her excitement begins to build.
He senses her excitement, and intensifies his work. He kisses her cheeks,
then begins to lick the cleft. When he licks the opening, and presses his
tongue into it, she squirms with delight.
He raises his head, and returns to manual stimulation. He begins to
concentrate on the opening. He presses firmly against it with his thumb as
he massages her cheeks with the other hand. She begins to move in concert
with his handiwork. She is surprised to find her excitement continuing to
grow, even with no direct stimulation to any part of her body that she had
previously associated with sex.
She notices that he is using two thumbs in her crack, with his fingers
working her cheeks. Then she feels a third thumb. She figures it must be his
tool. It's firm and erect. He begins to press it aggressively against her
cleavage. He directs it towards the opening. She feels him drop a bit of oil
or lotion in the area. As he spreads her cheeks with her hands, he begins to
press his tool into the opening.
At first, her body naturally resists, but as she gets used to the idea, and
becomes aroused by the feeling, the opening relaxes, and his tool slips
inside. As soon as the head is fully inside, he stops for a moment. She
flexes her muscles around the opening, and relishes the sensation.
He resumes his pressure, pushing his tool deeper and deeper, till it's all
in. Then he begins to stroke, in and out, slowly at first. She moves to his
rhythm. He continues, increasing his speed, and she follows, all the while
trembling and shaking.
Soon he squirts, and as he does, he stops at full insertion. She too stops,
squeezing his tool as tight as she can. Slowly he withdraws. Kissing her
bottom, he retreats into the woods. As her feelings subside, she drifts off
to sleep.
...............................................
... to be continued ... if there's interest ...
...............................................
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
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From an482423@anon.penet.fi Sat Jun 01 05:41:37 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST: Chelsea on Fantasy Island Pt IV (final) (f/m+, pedo,
From: an482423@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 1 Jun 1996 09:41:37 UTC
....................................................
Standard Disclaimers Apply
....................................................
If you're young, ask your mother.
If you're married, ask your wife.
If you're religious, ask your pastor if he liked it.
....................................................
The Island, Part IV
She awakens to an awareness of being touched. The four younger boys are
kneeling by her, two on each side. Two are near her shoulders, two near her
hips. The shoulder boys are massaging her breasts, two hands per breast.
Their touch is gentle and firm. They explore the nipples with their fingers.
She shivers with delight.
The hip boys are massaging her torso and thighs. Each boy has one hand
between her belly button and her privates, and one hand between her privates
and her knees. They tease her by moving their touch towards and then away
from her privates, sometimes gently brushing against the pubis. The rub the
abdomen area gently, the thighs more aggressively.
One of the breast boys leans over and licks her breast. She hadn't noticed
the mouth opening before. She trembles as the other follows suit. He
explores the nipple and breast with his tongue. As he moves away, the other
licks and then sucks the breast. She wonders if it feels this good when a
baby nurses her mother!
One of the thigh boys kisses her belly button. The other kisses, licks and
playfully chews on her thigh. Each alternates moving his oral attention
towards her pubis, but always stops short. This stimulation is consuming
her, and frustrating her at the same time.
As the four boys use their hands, fingers, lips, and tongues, she reaches a
state of excitement she could never have imagined. She shivers and trembles
and shakes and groans. She feels like she has stuck her finger in an
electric socket. What could ever be better than this!
Soon the leader approaches. The boys back off a little. The leader kneels
between her legs. He gently touches her with the tips of his fingers, first
on the breasts, then down the torso to the peak of her pubic mound.
Leaving the tips of his fingers on the mound, he uses his thumbs to gently
separate the lips of her private parts, as though searching for something.
As he locates it, and gently rubs and strokes it, her excitement increases
at an incredible pace.
He lowers his face to her body. He kisses her privates, then explores them
with his tongue. His tongue is more aggressive than the other boys had been.
Her mind is exploding; her groin is burning.
He moves his face away, and lowers his groin to hers. He teases and caresses
her mound with the head of his tool. As she moans, he lowers his head
towards her genitals, and rubs them with his tool. She feels her genitals
moisten.
His rubbing becomes more firm and insistent. As he moves just below the
central fold, he presses his tool into her body. The moist lips of her
opening give way to his pressure. He stops after the head has entered. She
trembles at the physical sensations, and at the thoughts of what's happening
to her. Soon the physical overwhelms the mental. Just his presence inside
her gives her ecstatic shivers.
After a moment, he begins his pressure again. Gently but firmly, he enters
deeper and deeper. After a short distance, he meets an internal obstruction.
He stops again, for a moment. Then he makes a sharp thrust, breaking her
virginal hymen. She cries out with pain. He caresses her face to comfort
her. Then he begins to stroke, in and out, up and down, deeper and deeper.
She quickly forgets the pain as she is flooded with passion.
He strokes for a few more moments, then stops and withdraws. He stands up,
steps back and taps one of the younger boys on the shoulder.
The young boy takes the older boy's place. He rubs his tool against her
pubis until it is firm and erect. Then he enters her and begins to stroke as
the older one had done. He strokes faster and faster until his ecstasy is
complete, and his deposit is made. Then he withdraws, stands and trots into
the woods.
The leader then selects another, who satisfies himself in the same manner.
Then the leader selects a third, who pleases himself inside her.
As the last of the younger boys approaches, to her surprise he doesn't stop
at her waist. He kneels with his knees in her armpits. She finds herself
staring up, directly into his privates, just a few inches from her face.
She's too excited to wonder what he's up to.
He slowly lowers himself until the head of his tool touches her nose. He
caresses her nose, chin, and cheeks with his head. After she regains the
courage to breathe, she finds out that he's clean enough not to smell bad.
After getting over the weirdness, she decides just to go with the flow, to
see if she can enjoy what's happening. And to her amazement, she finds it
all quite exciting.
Then he puts the thing on her lips. She's not sure what he wants. But
remembering how good she feels when they kiss and lick her, she takes a
chance. She purses her lips slightly, and kisses the head of his tool. Then
she remembers, she's never even kissed a boy before, and now she's kissed
that! Well, it's too late now.
Of course, he hasn't complained either. So she kisses it again. She thinks
he responds positively. She opens her lips a bit more, and sticks out her
tongue just a little, just so it touches the head. Then she jerks it back
in. It doesn't taste too bad, just a little salty, she notices. So, she
licks it again, a little more aggressively this time.
He lowers his hand to help guide his tool near her mouth. He rubs the head
against her lips. As she relaxes them a bit, he seems to be pressing the
head in between them. She realizes that he wants to put it into her mouth.
She firms her lips, needing time to think. Then she decides to relax. After
all she's already been though, what's one more new experience.
As she relaxes her lips again, he gently guides the head of his tool into
her mouth. She grasps it with her lips and suckles it. He stops, as though
to enjoy this for a bit. She continues to suck on it. He removes his hand,
leaving her in control.
As she sucks harder, he slowly lowers himself so that his tools enters
further into her mouth. It's a weird feeling, but she kinda likes it. And
apparently so does he. He lowers himself until the entire tool is in her
mouth. She's thankful he's not too big! By opening her mouth wide, she can
lick his balls. He groans and moves, which she assumes indicates approval.
He backs out a little, so she resumes her lip-lock. He begins to stroke up
and down, like the other boys had done down at the other end. She sucks, and
he strokes. Up and down. Faster and faster. He drops to all fours to give
himself more freedom to move. He continues to stroke, obviously getting
great pleasure. She also is beginning to be stimulated by this activity,
though she's not entirely sure why.
Just then, he squirts his stuff in her mouth. She had forgotten about that!
But he's on top of her, and she has no choice but to take it. She swallows,
even as she still sucks. Soon his ejaculations cease, his tool grows soft,
and he slowly withdraws. After a moment he stands and trots off into the
woods, as the other boys did earlier.
As he leaves, she licks her lips and tastes his work. It's warm, slimy and
salty, but not entirely disagreeable. She realizes she has just given her
first blow job.
Just then, the leader boy returns to her sight. He stands between her legs,
as before. He kneels, and begins to caress her pubic area and genitals. Her
excitement quickly returns, fueled both by his actions and by the
experiences of his and the others' recent actions. Soon she is brought to a
fever pitch. He senses her excitement, and moves to place his tool on her
pubic mound. He rubs the mound with his tool. He slowly lowers the head of
his tool towards her opening, which stands ready for his entry. As he
enters, she begins to tremble and shake. He strokes, in and out, up and
down, slowly at first, then faster and faster.
Finally, just as she reaches her climax, he reaches his. As his tools grows
soft, he withdraws. She too relaxes, filled with an ecstasy that almost
overwhelms her. In her contentment and exhaustion, she drifts towards sleep.
As the boy moves away, he gently kisses her on the cheek.
***
As the sun rises, the birds sing, awakening her once more. She finds herself
lying on her blanket, fully clothed, just as she had first gone to sleep.
Had it all been a dream? She wasn't sure. There were no rips in her clothes,
no marks on her body. Not even rope burns on her wrists and ankles. How
would she know? Only two hints remained.
Somewhere inside of her, (inside her body or her mind, she wasn't sure), she
feels strangely fulfilled and satisfied.
And lying beside her, on the blanket, is a feather. It looks like it might
be from the face mask that the big boy in her dream was wearing. She
remembers that some of her new friends from across the lake have similar
looking feathers, some in their rooms, some in their hair.
Could it be?
...............
... the end ...
...............
.. comments? ..
.. feedback? ..
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