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Reply-To: stereographPANTIES@hushmail.com
From: "Stereograph" <stereograph@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Bare Branch {Stereograph} ( Mg ped con fant )
Lines: 339
Date: Wed, 01 Nov 2006 01:10:04 -0500
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The following is a work of fiction.  It should not be taken as a 
guide
to behavior in the real world.  The people, places and events exist
only in the mind of the Author.  This is a work of pornographic 
fiction,
it should not be read by those who are under the legal age to do so 
in
the jurisdiction where you live.  It may, or may not, contain matter
illegal to read where you live.  Please know and obey the laws of 
your
own country, the Author cannot be responsible for the laws of every
country connected to the internet.  Neither the Author, nor society
condone some of the actions presented within.

Please, enjoy the story. 

Posted for All Souls, 2006

<1st attachment, "BareBranch.txt" begin>

                           The Bare Branch
Codes: Mg ped con fant

---------------------------------------------------------------------

  I, Allen, swear the tale I tell is true.  I am of sound mind, as
many can attest.

  In the Fall of this year I traveled north-east to photograph the
turning leaves in the mountains of Maine for calender submissions.
I took a room at a bed & breakfast on Route 302 near the Saco River.
The house was ancient, dating to the founding of the region, but
remodeled to modern standards.  It was set up to be perfect for tours
of the mountains.  No need to rent a car, for a small fee they lent
a SUV.  For another small fee they provided a generous box lunch.
The host couple were friendly and enjoyable to be around.  In short
it was perfect for my needs.

   The first night, as I drifted between waking and sleeping, I heard
a small voice.  "Put a little blood on my bones.  Help me be at peace.
Find me behind the new barn."  I took this to be my tired mind playing
tricks on me.

   The car was housed in the barn, not new by any standard, so I
looked behind it as I packed to go.  Nothing there.

  The views were fantastic.  I took several shots sure to sell.  On
the way back I took a shot of the bridge over the Saco, built in 1857.

  That night as I lay in bed I heard, "Find the bare branch.  Feed
blood to my bones.  Help me find peace, please," faint in my head.  I
wrote it off as a dream mixed with the wind through the trees.  Later
still I saw a girl, young and bare, in a dream.  She said not a word.
Instead she gestured, miming a hug and kiss.  The scene behind her
was a tree with the lowermost branch dead.  Below was a gravestone of
antique shape.  The scene faded, I remember nothing more of the night.

  The following morning, as I packed, I looked behind the barn again.
No tree looked right.  I asked my host about barns on the grounds.
He told me this was the only one, but some ruins of another once were
about.  He'd cleaned them up prior to being allowed a license to run
the B&B.  He showed me where they had been.  There stood the tree.  I
looked below the branch.  Fragments of dressed stone lay about.  On a
whim I ran my finger over a sharp edge, drawing blood.  I left for my
day's shooting.

  Again I got sellable shots and returned to the B&B.

  I asked my host and hostess about the property.  My host had
inherited the property from an Uncle who had died widowed and
childless.  It had been in the family for generations, how many he
did not know.  The gravestone I had found broken was only one of
many.  It had been like that all of my host's life.  He said he had
no idea who might be buried there.

  That night the voice said, "You left blood, so close, but it did
not reach my bones.  Find my bones.  You shan't be sorry."  Again came
a later dream.  The same girl appeared, naked.  She mimed a kiss,
then touched her sex and smiled.  She was too young to have breasts
yet, but was perhaps ten or eleven.  This time she spoke again.  "This
is yours if you find me."

  The next day I ended my shooting early.  I returned to the tree with
the bare branch.  I tried to piece the stone together, it had been
smashed with a hammer, chips obscured much of the writing.  I did
make out the date 1857, but could not find were it belonged.  I looked
around.  The grave was so old I could find no visible trace.  I took
my pocketknife and cut my finger, then scattered drops all around the
area under the branch.

  That night it was a girl, not a voice or dream, that came to my
room.  She used the door.  "I cannot stay long.  A drop of blood
lasts only so long.  I cannot stay long enough for what I want, listen
close, then a kiss good-bye.  Tomorrow leave more blood, or your seed,
by the little stump three paces from the stone.  That tree grew from
my bones.  To find peace I need enough time to make love to you.  A
tablespoon should give us the night.  I promise you won't regret it.
Kiss me now, please!"  She was still bare.  Our kiss was brief, then
she ran from the room, snickering.  I did not know what to think.

  In the morning I went to the stone, looked around, and found the
stump of a sapling about three paces from the stone.  I though of
that pretty child and found I did want to make love to her.  I
imagined our kiss extended and her sweet body pressed to me.  I grew
hard.  I looked around, no one could see unless they came, on purpose,
to this spot deep in the property.

  I jacked myself off, slow and deliberate.  Perhaps she aided me
with dreams of her sweet body, or my mind supplied it's own images,
whichever it was worked.  My desire mounted and mounted.  Each stoke
raised in me more erotic images of ways to please myself with her
young body.  I stroked and the feel of each was stronger than ever
before with only my own hand.  When I felt the need to come I aimed
my cock at the ground, spurting there with not a drop wasted.  I
stripped out what remained inside and held until all the dripping
ceased.  A sizable puddle had formed, less than I imagined in my
fantasies, but more than a tablespoon.  I could not wait for the
night to come.

  I was too tense that day to get good photos.  I did not need any
more to make a reasonable profit from this trip.  All day long
fantasies of my coming night played through my head.  I jacked off
twice more, forcing myself to stop short, saving my prostate and cum
for later.

  That night I retired early, soon after supper.  It seemed I lay in
wait forever, though the clock disagreed.  The door opened.  The girl
walked in, closing it behind her.  "The seed you supplied will last
me more than long enough.  What you share in our lovemaking must last
me 'till the Judgement Day.  Both together will keep me 'till first
light.  Teach me the ways of men and women laying together."  I had
a million questions to ask her, she stalled me.  "Kiss and pleasure
me now.  We have the rest of the night for talk.  I'll not want to
sleep this last night before my eternal rest."

  I drew her into bed and kissed her.  She did not know how to do
more than a chaste peck.  She was an eager student and soon learned
more.  Indeed as each kiss deepened she grew bolder.  I told her she
was the prettiest lass that ever lived.  She disagreed saying she was
"nought but a gawky, half grown, girl."  She blushed as I complimented
her and kept eyes downcast as she deflected my praise.  I kissed her
to prove my assessment.  I told her I wished to kiss every inch of
her sweet body.  She looked shocked, but soon learned the game,
pointing out spots she wanted kissed.  I kissed each spot she pointed
to.  She began to get daring, pointing to places she thought I'd never
put my mouth on.  I dutifully kissed each and every one.  She pointed
to her butt.  I began to smother those globes with kisses and licks.
She sounded shocked as I did, but soon was making sighs of pleasure.
When I kissed her pussy she nearly panicked.  Two more on the same
had her begging for more.  I kissed and licked her until she could
hold no longer.  My tongue lapping the cover of her virgin opening
and thumb working around her clit she went over the edge, whimpering
as she spasmed.

  When she regained the power of speech she said, "Is that the
pleasure that is supposed come of laying together?"  I assured her
it was.  She asked if it was supposed to happen without the two
joined, could it happen with only herself alone.  I assured her of
that as well.  She looked puzzled.  "Mother told me it happened when
a man puts his sex in a woman's.  She told me that was how babies
are made.  Did she lie?"  I assured her that her mother had told the
truth, just not everything about what could be done.  Mother had left
the fuller discoveries to be shared with a man of her own, when she
was ready to have one.

  "Please me with yourself inside me now.  That is what I died wishing
to try.  I cannot give up this world until I do that.  Please?"

  I ached to do just that.  I was shocked at myself for wanting any
such thing.  Despite my words of praise to this girl, she was just
a child.  Yet I had spent all day wishing to do this.

  I drew her to me for a kiss.  "You are still a virgin.  We will
have to tear your maidenhead, that may hurt."

  "Will it hurt as much as the mill wheel crushing me?  Does it hurt
so much no girl wants to try again?"

  "I doubt the first, I know the second isn't true.  I've never lain
with a virgin, so I don't know how much it hurts.  Do you still want
to try?"  I hoped the answer would be yes.

  "YES!  I've waited all this time just to do it.  Nothing will stop
me now.  A little pain all women feel is nothing to stop for."  Her
face looked fierce as she said those words.

  "Very well, a kiss to seal the bargain?"  I drew her in again,
kissing and caressing.  I laid her on her back.  Her legs opened
eagerly.  I bent down and kissed her sex once more, then parting it
with my fingers, I placed the head of my cock against her opening.
I pushed.  I met resistance for a moment, then it eased as she tore.
Her face showed momentary pain, then the look was gone.

  "Is that all the pain?  You made it sound so bad.  I've had worse
from a skinned knee."

  "I said I'd never done it with a virgin.  Nor have I done it with
a girl so young.  I don't know anything but what popular myth says.
We'll have to find out on our own."

  I pushed again.  She was small and tight.  She was also wet.  I
went in slowly, stretching her as I went, but smoothly to the end of
her passage.  I paused.

  "Is there more to do?  This doesn't feel like something very
special."  I assured her more would happen.  Putting action to words,
I pulled out and pushed again.  She smiled as I did.  I kept going,
slow, long strokes.  At first I had no choice.  Short of ripping her
apart I could not go in any faster against the resistance of
stretching her again with each stroke.

  Slowly she loosened as she adjusted to my girth.  I went faster as
she did.  I could not kiss her as I like to do when making love.  She
was too short to reach, but for the top of her head.  I freed one 
hand, keeping my weight on the other elbow, and caressed her.  She
smiled up at me.  "This is better, it seems it was worth waiting for."
I kept going.

  I talked her into meeting my thrusts.  There was some giggling and
silliness before we got the match right.  The pleasure overtook her.
She used her body to set our pace.  Harder she pushed, then slowing
down to long strokes that threatened to pop me free.  A few of strokes
on it was fast and hard.  She kept us at that pace, crying out for
more.  I could not hold out much longer as she came, crying out for
still more.  The walls of her pussy rippling against me push me over.
I came, splashing her insides like a fire-hose.  It was over, we both
were still, lost in bliss.

  "Don't pull it out yet," she plead, "I want to feel it a little
longer.  Will we be able to do this again tonight?"

  I assured her we could, but not for a little while.  I asked for
her story while we waited.  About this time I deflated to the point
of being squeezed out.  She tittered at that, then reached down to
scoop up a bit of our spill.  She examined it closely, looking,
smelling, and feeling it.  Done, she looked for a place to wipe it
off, settling for her leg.  I turned on my back and motioned her to
lie on my chest.  I kissed her for a few minutes.  Her head on my
shoulder, my hands stroking her back, I asked again.

  "I'm Abby, Abigale really, and I grew up in this house.  A friend
caught her big brother with a girl and threatened to tell, unless
they told her everything about what men and women do together.  She
came over and told me.  Mama must have overheard.  She sat me down
and said it was time for me to be told about it.  She did, telling me
I shouldn't try any of it until I was married, and mustn't until I
was much older.  She made me promise.  Some of what Prudence told me
was wrong.  Mama said her brother played tricks on her for revenge."

  "The next school day I kissed Jimmy behind a shed.  We made plans
to meet at a disused barn about halfway between our homes, on the
other side of the river from here.  We were going to kiss more and
maybe play 'Show me', that's all, really.  I tried to take a shortcut
over the bridge being built.  I tripped over a forgotten lunch bucket
and fell into the river.  The current carried me into a mill wheel. 
When the pain stopped I heard a voice invite me to rest and sleep.  I
refused, saying I had to try laying with a man first.  I wouldn't
sleep until I did."

  "I've tried asking every man that stayed in this house the same way
I asked you.  None of them would do it.  You are the first one to
feed my bones life to grow solid again."

  "It has been strange being almost twelve all this time, never
growing or learning new things.  It's been boring.  No one to play
with or talk to.  All this time, yet I know little of what's gone on
in the world around me.  I can't go far from my bones.  No one can 
hear me, except in dreams.  Few answered at all, even then.  I've
been afraid to sleep, thinking if I did I might enter eternal sleep.
The hours have been long, the years longer.  Now that I've had my
pleasure I can go to sleep in peace."

  "Can we still do it one more time before morning?"

  I told her we could, soon.  I asked her about the afterlife, whether
God was real, whether any religion had gotten it right.  She had no
answers.  She'd heard nothing but the voice invite her to sleep, and
she couldn't say for sure that hadn't been imagination.  She planned
to pray for forgiveness before going to sleep, just in case.

  We did much as we had done before except this time she explored my
body with her hands, eyes, and mouth.  She wanted to see and touch
everything.  She asked so many questions.  It was the strangest fore-
play I'd ever engaged in.  She took delight in every discovery.  She
found my prostate and used fingers, then tongue, to trace it.  She
enjoyed watching my reactions.  She played with the hair on my chest
and balls, teasing and pulling it.  She payed special attention to
my cock.  She stroked and squeezed.  She smelled and even tasted it.
She asked if it always was hard like this.  She asked how I peed.
She asked if all men had them the same size and shape.  She asked if
they changed between boy and man, like a girls breasts.  She did not
neglect real foreplay.  She kissed me all over, as I had her.  I had
her lie on me, as she did, so I could give her attention too.  When
she had explored all she wanted to, I kissed her all over.  I took
care to bring her far along the road to arousal before mounting her.
She was still stretched from our last time, no need to go through
that again.  We were able to get right to what we wanted, a slow,
deep, sensual love-making.   She lasted longer than I expected before
she came.  She gave me leave to finish myself off.  It didn't take
much longer.  When we had come, and enjoyed our afterglow, she rose
to leave.

  "Take my coat, no need to spend your last hour cold."  She did.
She thanked me, for everything, with a huge smile on her face.  We
shared one last kiss on the doorstep, then she walked away into the
false dawn.

  I turned to return to my room.  I ran into my host.  "You took care
of the Ghost Girl?  Good.  I tried, many times, to get it up for her.
I can't do it."

  "My family has viewed her as a curse for a long time.  Every male
relative I've knowledge of has felt her call as a temptation to
molest little girls.  Most resisted, but there are rumours of incest
and molestation.  I know a Great-Uncle raped and killed a little girl.
He was the one that smashed the stone.  At his trial he blamed the
ghost for forcing him to act that way.  The jury didn't buy it.  I
know she is innocent.  I'm glad you gave her rest."

  "Please, visit again on the house."  He smiled and offered his hand.

  Packed to go, my host and I visited the grave one last time.  My
coat hung on the bare branch.  I blew her grave a kiss, and left for
home.

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Comments welcomed.  Follow up at alt.sex.stories.d or reply by e-mail.
Be sure to remove PANTIES first.

<1st attachment end>


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