Message-ID: <53808asstr$1146953403@assm.asstr.org>
DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; q=dns; c=nofws;
  s=dk20050327; d=earthlink.net;
  b=hWgfDgfLdARb3T/bkAOIgsVfY1sX7AR5osWdb3oWGPbyyNYuzXctbnriqXe+FsAR;
  h=Received:Message-ID:X-Priority:Reply-To:X-Mailer:From:To:Subject:Date:MIME-Version:Content-Type:X-ELNK-Trace:X-Originating-IP;
Reply-To: chaucer48@earthlink.net
From: "chaucer48@earthlink.net" <chaucer48@earthlink.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Susan - Ch. 1 (f, masturbation, urination)
Lines: 216
Date: Sat, 06 May 2006 18:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


The story below is chapter one of a continuing novel by the same name.  It
contains scenes of masturbation and other personal sexual exploration by a
12 year old girl.  Anyone offended by such subject matter should stop
reading now.  This story is protected by international copyright law but
permission to reprint is freely given when asked for.  (f, masturbation,
urination)

  
***************************************************************************
***************

   SUSAN



   Susan was tall, coltish, blond, twelve, and bored with this spring trip
to the country.  The old house where she and her family were staying was
too far away from everything.  The nearest house was miles away and she was
tired of television and family games and reading, but that was all there
was to do and when she said as much her mother told her to get out of the
house into the gorgeous sunshine.  So she did.  That was how she stumbled
into the clearing in the middle of the woods.

   The sound of a trickling fountain came through the stillness of the
glade and Susan turned her eyes toward it.  What she saw puzzled her.  The
fountain was three tiered but, rather than a jet or a Venus on the half
shell or some other regulation fountain statue, there was a figure which
crouched in the center of the top tier.  From Susan's location she could
see nothing but the bent back of the marble creature so she went to the
fountain and around.

   When she looked up at the statue she gasped.  Susan had often seen
fountains with a little boy cherub urinating, but, rather than the standard
little boy, the source of the fountain was a little girl squatting, wide
open legs just a bit higher than eye level.  The statue had its eyes turned
down toward the source of the water and there was a look of sensual delight
on the cherubic face.  The chubby fingers of one hand held open the vaginal
lips so that the water could spurt a little forward rather than down.  The
other hand was held with one finger extended into the stream so that the
water splattered into the palm and dripped from the other curled fingers.

   Except that the vagina was the glowing white color of wet marble, it was
so cunningly fashioned that it might have belonged to a human little girl.
The outer lips were plump and rounded, the inner more thin and delicate
looking.  At the top where the inner lips came together was the hooded
nubbin of flesh and from it the tiny protrusion of the clitoris peeked. 
Below, just above the opening to the womb which was still shielded by the
hymen, was the small raised opening from which the fountain's water
spurted.

   The statue was so fascinating that Susan could not pull her eyes away,
and so sensual that she felt a miniscule tingling stir between her own
legs. Without being conscious of her actions her hands laced themselves
together and lowered to cover her own mound of Venus.

   How many times had she wanted to do what the cherub of the fountain was
doing?  A hundred?  A thousand?  How many times had she wanted to run naked
through some sylvan glade and squat to relieve herself in the gentle light
of the sun?  How often had she tried to examine her womanhood; to touch it;
to stroke her child fingers down it; to put her finger into it; to hold her
little hand in the warm stream of golden urine?  But each time she tried
her mother or her nanny, Argus eyed enforcers of bodily shame, caught her
exploring herself she was punished.  At last she had given up trying to see
and settled for the secret and shame filled touching deep in the night,
beneath the bed covers.

   The noise of a bird's wings as it lifted from the glade brought Susan's
mind back to the present, and she found that her hands were cupping her
mons, and that it was so warm and wet that her panties were damp.  Even her
sky blue skirt had a darkened spot of wetness where she had pushed the
cloth tight against herself.

   Susan quickly moved her hands away and looked around, red faced.  But
there was no one to see save the wicked cherub of the fountain, and she was
too intent on her own explorations to notice Susan's embarrassment.

   A fleecy cloud drifted over the sun and its shadow ran over the fountain
and it's still fascinated observer, who shivered.  The shadow and the
gentle breeze conspired to make the dampened Vee of Susan's panties cold
which, in turn, made her feel an inconvenient pressure in her bladder.  But
it was a long way back to the house, and besides, she did not want to go
back yet.  She glanced once again at the cherub and a wonderful, wicked
idea caused a grin to flash over her face.  She looked around the glade and
found no one but herself, a few birds and the fountain's cherub.  She could
not see the house or barns from here.

   In one smooth motion she lifted her skirt, slipped her panties down to
her knees and squatted in near perfect imitation of the cherub, but there
was something wrong.  Her knees were not open wide enough to be a perfect
imitation.  She thought a moment then, before releasing her golden stream,
she stood, let her panties drop around her ankles and stepped out of them.
She lifted her skirt once more, squatted, and opened her satiny white
thighs to the point their inner cords of muscle stood out.  By lowering one
knee a bit, tilting her head, and leaning over, in echo of the cherub, she
could see her own vagina, but she did not think of it with that word.  In
her mind she called that lightly curl fringed delta between her legs her
pussy.  The outer lips were prettily pouted and some of the few dark blond
hairs, made darker by the wetness, were plastered against them.  Sunlight
glinted off both damp and dry curls.  Susan shoved her skirt up her thighs
out of the way and let her right hand down to her pussy.  She gently
stroked the soft hair, and then ran her finger tip down the slit and back
up.  It brushed the slight protrusion of her clitty and sent delightful
shivers through her, but, rather than do it again she used her thumb and
fore-finger to open the slit wider so that she could see.  She wished she
had a mirror so that she could see even better, but. . . .

   The inner lips were darkening from coral pink toward hibiscus red as
looking at her own pussy excited Susan.  They were swelling; opening the
gateway into her womb, and squeezing the deep pink pearl of her clit from
beneath its protective hood.

   Susan lowered her left hand and allowed her sparkling amber pee to jet
forth.  The stream was warm and made a hissing sound as it touched the
flesh of her fingers, splattered into her palm and dribbled down.  She
could hear the gentle patter of the drops falling onto the grass, and it
blended with the tinkling of the fountain cherub's pee.  The bitter, acidy
aroma of it rose and she could almost taste it on her tongue.

   Oh God, it is so good. . .  she thought.  So good. . .

   The stream dwindled to a final spurt then ceased.  Susan brought her
dripping fingers up, and slowly insinuated the two middle fingers into her
womb.  She was still a virgin, but she pushed them so carefully into the
slippery opening, stretching her maiden head but not enough so that she
felt pain.  Her fingers touched a slightly thickened ridged inside her and
the touch caused a shock of electric pleasure to radiate through her
middle. It even caused the puckery cinnamon colored flower of her anus to
contract and tingle.  After a moment of shivery, wondrous pleasure, she
brought the tip of her thumb to her clitty and began stroking up and down
it, lightly at first, then harder and harder, pressing the erect little
jewel against the bone beneath the plump flesh.

   Faster and faster and faster!  And as her thumb flicked and massaged,
her fingers rubbed the corduroy ridge within, behind her hymen.  The
pleasure of it was so great it caused her whole body to tense; every muscle
and nerve in her thrummed to the rhythmic pulse of her fingers.  So
concentrated were her senses that she was unaware of the moaning grunting
sounds that escaped her lips as the pulses grew stronger. . . .

   Her head tilted back, lifting her face, sweetly contorted with
concentration, to the warm sun.

   Stronger. . . .

   Her breath was coming in gasps.

   Stronger. . . .

   Heat and light like released star plasma!  It was like an explosion of
solar vapor!  Susan's whole body became rigid, quivering as though palsied
with the climax.  Her fingers jammed so deeply into her that her maiden
head ruptured and bled, but she did not notice the small pain.  It was
lost, swamped with the tide of pleasure.  And then, from that most secret
place deep within her gushed forth the rain of feminine essence which may
come only a few times in a life.  It coated her fingers and dripped down
onto the grass like clear sugar syrup, and mother earth gratefully drank up
that offering from her girl child.



   Susan, still squatting with open legs, panted and shivered with echoes
of pleasure for a long time before she removed her fingers and found the
blood of her ruptured virginity.  The bright scarlet frightened her a
little and she stood to find that her legs were like jelly.  She swayed and
thought for a moment she would faint, but her head cleared and, without
thinking, she picked up her panties and used then to wipe the blood and pee
and love nectar from her hand.  Then she lifted her skirt, spread her knees
in a half squat and wiped her pussy.  The silken feel of the nylon as it
swiped between her pussy lips made her shudder and her womb contracted
again with reaction.  A little more blood squeezed from inside her and she
mopped it up with the panties.

   It suddenly came to her with a frightening flash that she would have to
explain the blood on her panties.  Mother was sure to notice it when she
did the laundry and ask about it.  She could say it was her period, but it
was too early in the month for that.  She had only finished a few days ago.

   Another cloud shadow passed over the glade and the trickling sound of
the fountain seemed to grow louder.  Susan looked at the cherub, still
enjoying her exploration, and the remedy for the blood streaked panties was
there.

   Susan washed her panties, and her pussy, which was growing a little
sore, in the fountain.  When the blood streaks were gone she wrung the
panties as near dry as she could then put them back on.  The coolness
soothed her.

   She rested a while longer beside the fountain before making her way
home. It did not occur to her to wonder who had built the fountain in the
forest glade until that night when she touched herself beneath the covers
and thought of the squatting girl cherub.

   She decided to return to the fountain glade in the morning to perhaps
find out more about who had placed it there.


   chaucer48@earthlink.net EarthLink Revolves Around You.

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

	
<1st attachment begin>

<HTML removed pursuant to http://assm.asstr.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy>
<1st attachment end>

----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+