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From: corn53@aol.com (Corn53)
Subject: (corn53) Snowed in With Emily (pre-teen, spnk, ws) part 1 of 2
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Warning: you must be at least 18 to read this somewhat erotic story about a
young girl who has to stay with her former neighbor overnight. Parts of this
story are TRUE and should not be read by those persons offended by erotic
content.
**************************************************************************
*******************
SNOWED IN WITH EMILY part 1 of 2
“No! And that’s final.” Mom continued in a raised voice, “It’s snowing
already and Barb and I are taking my car.”
Barb got divorced about 6 months ago. She and mom started going to a
singles dance every Friday night since then. Usually I was allowed to use
mom’s car and they went in Barb’s van.
“Besides, you’ve only had your license for two months. And since it’s
snowing I told her to bring Emily just in case we get snowed in. Barb is
picking up pizza on her way over.”
“Great! Not only can’t go out. I have to baby-sit a stupid kid. Just
great!” including this new information in my ongoing complaint.
“Stop. It’s no use arguing. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and make the
best of it. Maybe you could play checkers or some of our other games.”
“Great.” still sulking.
Later... “Here they are. Go help them bring in the pizza and snacks.”
Barb looked sexy tonight. We had been neighbors ever since I could
remember. We moved out to the suburbs two years ago, but she and mom remained
best friends. I had called her by her first name since learning to talk.
Barb had lost about 20 pounds right after her divorce. Even with her boots on
over her shoes, I still liked her black stockings that showed between her coat
and boots. When she sat down a bag of snacks on the counter, her coat opened
enough to reveal a short skirt. “Whoa! Barb,” I was thinking, “You look sharp
tonight.” but I only said, “You look nice tonight, Barb.” Then, as I hoped,
she took off her coat and modeled her new outfit. Although not well endowed,
her tighter clothes showed off her new, slimmer figure. I could see her
nipples raise to little bumps through her sheer bra and blouse as she turned
around in front of me, as if she liked being looked at.
“You’re getting so big, Bobby. Sorry we have to take your car tonight.”
meaning mom’s car, which I usually used on the weekends. “And thanks for
keeping an eye on Emily for me.” Barb never teased me about being small for my
age.
Emily came in as Barb was turning. She looked embarrassed by her mother’s
‘modeling.’ Taking off her coat and stamping the snow off her gym shoes,
pulling off the knit cap and shaking out her pig tails - with ribbons - she
said, “Oh, Mother. Bobby doesn’t want to check you out.”
I disagreed but didn’t say anything, noticing things about Barb that I
never noticed before.
“We’d better go, Barbie,” said mom, “It’s supposed to start snowing worse.
Maybe we shouldn’t even go tonight.”
“Maybe we should go back home, Mom.” suggested Emily hopefully. “I don’t
want to stay here.”
“That’s enough, young lady. You’re not going back home just so you can
run over to Jackie’s house. And just because you’re almost 13 doesn’t mean you
can’t still get a spanking. Do you want a spanking right now, in front of
Bobby?” I could tell Barb had had enough of Emily’s “lip.”
“You could both stay here if you don’t want to drive tonight, Barb.”
offered Mom.
“No, I just got this outfit. Let’s go right now.” putting her coat back
on, heading for the door, “You kids get along. Don’t forget, you used to take
baths together. Bobby, Emily will be 13 next week. See if she will tell you
what she wants. I can’t get any suggestions out of her.” and they hustled out
the door, beginning to yak before it was closed.
Emily and I looked at each other, both wishing we were somewhere else.
But knowing we were ‘stuck’ here for the evening, I opened the pizza box and
said, “I would have liked watching you get a spanking, Em, especially a
bare-bottomed spanking.” and started to snicker.
She fumed a moment longer, then burst out laughing. “Don’t eat all of it,
you pig!” and came over to the table, kicking off her wet shoes, standing next
to me as I sat in the best chair, the one with arms. “Do you still have cable?
Mom had ours disconnected.”
“Your mom was looking sexy tonight.”
“You pervert. She’s your Mom’s best friend.” confiding, “Sometimes she
embarrasses me the way she ‘advertises.’ It looked like you were really
checking her out,” as she grabbed her second piece, spilling some on the floor.
“Look who’s calling who a pig!” I joked, “You’re the one slopping food on
the floor.” and playfully slapped her fanny through her jeans.
She gave me a funny look and sat down, “Maybe we should get plates and go
see what's on TV. Do you get any movie channels? Friday nights have the
scariest movies.” then she started joking, “But I won’t be scared with a ‘big
strong boy’ like you around.” mimicking her mother, “Or am I being too sour
castic?”
“It’s not ‘sour-castic’ it’s ‘sarcastic’ and yes, you are. Maybe your mom
was right about you needing a spanking. Besides, it’s almost your birthday.”
offering another excuse to spank her.
“Thank you for correcting me, Mr. Webster!” continuing to dig, “Aren’t we
grown up now? In high school, a driver’s license... What next? The honor
roll?” laughing.
“Actually I did make the honor roll, so mom would give me the car every
weekend. But you can see how long that lasted.”
Reaching to get plates out of the cupboard, she turned and said, “If we
were allowed to cook I could make cookies - so we won’t starve.” now joking
about the bagful of snacks on the counter.
We had never been friends before, but she seemed older tonight, more like
another teenager instead of a kid. I never knew she was such a joker. I went
over to help her get the plates. As I reached up, she smacked me on the
behind!
With platefuls of pizza and cans of pop, we headed to the living room.
“Mom said we should play checkers, Emily. Doesn’t THAT sound like fun?”
laughing again. We had never laughed together before, as far as I could
remember.
My clicking through the channels was beginning to get on her nerves.
“Such a ‘man.’” she said. “Let me have that.” and she tried to grab it from
me. We wrestled on the couch for a moment. She was stronger than I expected.
I noticed she had on some kind of perfume. Momentarily distracted, she
wrenched the controller from my hand and stuffed her hands up under her
sweatshirt and doubled over to prevent me from recovering it. We rolled back
onto the other end of the big couch and I pulled her arms
out pinning them to the couch, sitting on top of her, my knees straddling her
tummy.
She laughed as I looked at her empty hands. “Where did it go, Bobby?” she
teased. Looking down in front of me at her baggy sweatshirt, I distinguished
3 bumps, and realized the middle one had to be the controller. She continued
laughing at my indecision, twisting and wiggling so I had to hold tight.
Not knowing whether I should reach under her sweatshirt to retrieve it,
events took care of themselves as she twisted too far over. We fell on the
floor, rolling, and the controller fell out. I grabbed it and jumped back into
my seat.
As if nothing had happened, she stood, shook her pigtails, and asked,
“Want another pop?” and headed to the kitchen.
“Yes, thanks, Em.” now totally discomfited by my former neighbor.
I was small for my age, but so was she. Those two brand new bumps on her
chest and the lingering aroma of her perfume was having an unexpected effect on
me. “Just a kid.” I told myself in warning.
Emily’s strawberry blond hair, ribboned in pigtails, freckles, braces,
along with her small stature and baggy sweatshirt all gave her a “little kid”
look, but her strength, humor, and the two new ‘buds’ told me she was more
grown than I first thought.
She came bouncing back into the room, jumped onto the couch, right beside
me. She sat cross-legged, with her bent knee resting over mine. “Here’s your
pop. What do you want to watch?” and she pulled the comforter off the back of
the couch and put it over our laps.
I swear I don’t know why, but I put my arm around her after popping open
my Pepsi. She leaned against me and suggested, “Let’s watch a scary movie.”
“Sure, Emily. I’ll protect you.” continuing our joke. The cable movie
station was showing previews of tonight’s movies. ABDUCTED HIGH SCHOOL WITCH
was on next, followed by BARBIE’S FIRST TIME. We laughed at the title and
preview, both thinking of her mom all dressed up and going to the single’s
dance. We didn’t even have to say anything. The preview showed a close up of
a man’s hand unsnapping a ladies bra and pulling her down - off camera. That
really cracked us up. We just looked at each other and began laughing so hard
we almost cried.
As the ‘ABDUCTED WITCH’ movie started she snuggled in closer. It felt
great. Snuggled there, the smell of pizza with an overtone of her perfume, her
pigtail tickling my neck.
We began a rambling, disjointed conversation, just kind of seeing the
movie, but not paying much attention. “Aren’t grown-ups a riot?” she asked,
“My god. You’d think they were going to a prom or something. Mom took over an
hour to get ready. And you should see some of her new underwear!”
“I wish I could.” only partly joking. “Mom got some new undies after she
got divorced five years ago. No, make that six years ago. I had just turned
10.”
“Why, Bobby, have you been looking at your own mom’s underwear? You ARE a
pervert!” laughing. She poked me in the ribs a few times. “I saw how you
looked at my mom’s tits.”
Embarrassed. She was right. When she stopped poking my ribs she put her
other hand on my leg. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked, noting my silence.
“Hey, I don’t look at my mom’s underwear, OK? I just noticed it in the
laundry when I brought my clothes down. That’s all.” feeling a need to
explain.
“Oh, Bobby. You’re funny. Are you blushing?” She looked right into my
face, which made me blush even more, of course. Her left hand was still
resting on my leg and when she looked in my face she reached her right hand
over to the middle of my chest. Her blue eyes sturck me. Another thing I had
never noticed. Emily suddenly seemed like a different person.
She looked back at the TV as a woman screamed, tied to a wall, arms and
legs spread. As we watched the scene, still not listening to the dialog, her
fingers slipped between the buttons on my plaid shirt, touching my bare skin.
“Maybe this will be a scary movie.” snuggling even closer to me.
The pop was getting to us. I really needed to go to the bathroom but
didn’t want to get up. I think she felt the same way. My arm was getting
stiff, too. Finally I pinched her on the side and said, “I got to take a
whiz,” and got up.
“I’ll put the pizza away.” as she headed back to the kitchen, adding “and
I got to whiz, too!” teasing me on my archaic choice of words.
When I came back downstairs she was already on the couch in the same spot.
Her sweatshirt was over the back of the reclining chair! Looking from her
sweat shirt back to her I saw the straps of her white T-shirt above the
comforter. She pulled the blanket aside and said, “Come on, they’re getting to
a good part, where they light candles all around her and strap her to a table.
And wail till you see what she’s wearing, Bobby.” patting the spot on the couch
for me to sit.
I looked back at her sweatshirt.
“I was getting too hot in that thing under our blanket. Come on, I’m
getting cold.”
Her ‘buds’ were more prominent now, with just the tight T-shirt with the
shoulder straps. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her golfball
sized tits pushed straight out.
Sitting down I suggested, “Why don’t I rub your back while we watch TV and
then you can rub mine. OK?”
“Sure Bobby, Hurry under here. I’m getting cold! How should I sit?” as I
sat down beside her.
“Scoot over. Then you can lay across my lap, Em” We slid down about a
foot and she laid across my lap. She pulled the throw pillow down and put her
head and shoulders on it. The blanket was covering her except for her head.
Her back was in the middle of my lap as I began massaging outside her T-shirt.
I could hardly detect those two tiny ‘buds’ pressing against my left leg, but
just knowing they were there was
getting me stiff. “Lift up a minute, Em.” I adjusted my pants.
Surprisingly, the observant Emily didn’t comment, but just let me adjust
myself. A quiet chuckle as she settled back, enjoying the back rub.
"Want your spankings now, Emily?" Patting her fanny as she laid across my
lap. "Let's see, you'll be 13, right?" and slapped her a little harder to see
what she would do.
"I could hardly feel that through these jeans, Bobby. Besides I thought
you were just going to rub my back."
Resting my hand on her firm fanny through those jeans was making me even
stiffer. I decided to try a harder spank. Moving the cover I gave her a harder
one. SMACK!
"Ow!"
SMACK! "If you want your back rub you have to let me spank you first."
"Ow! was that two or three, Bobby?"
"Only the first one. The others were just warm ups."
SMACK, SMACK!
"Ouch! You'd better give me a good back rub when you're done, that's all
I can say." as she squirmed back and forth.
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! with the third one being the hardest. She didn't
say anything but continued to squirm.
She was trying not to say anything, so I challenged her, "I bet I can make
you say 'ouch' on the next ones."
"No you can't." accepting my dare.
I moved our blanket completely off her rear end and gave her two more hard
ones. She squirmed and wiggled, bending her knees so her feet would block my
swing, but she didn't say anything. "Keep your feet down, Em, or else I might
have to start over."
"That's not fair, Bobby. I shouldn't even let you spank me. It better be
a good back rub."
"Tell you what, Emily. If you pull your jeans down so I can spank you on
your panties, I won't spank so hard." I rubbed her fanny lightly while she was
deciding.
"Well, OK. But they better be lots softer." Then she knelt up, unsnapped
her jeans, pulled down the zipper, and pushed them down towards her knees.
Her white cotton panties had little flowers all over them. They fit
snugly. She laid back across my lap and I put my hand on her bottom, sliding
the material around against her skin.
"Not so hard, remember."
"OK. How's this?" as I smacked her much softer, almost a pat. She still
squirmed each time I spanked her. As she squirmed I put my hand on her thigh
and parted her legs. After each remaining spank I parted them a little farther,
finally reaching the limit of her bunched up jeans. My timing was irregular so
she wouldn't know when the next one was coming. I pulled the cover back over
her when I finished, hoping she would leave her jeans down while I rubbed her
back. I immediately started massaging and to my relief, she didn't make a move
to pull up her pants.
“Have you seen this movie before?” knowing she had. “What happens next?”
We watched in silence as the “witch” was led into the stone chamber, hands tied
behind her, a chain attached to her studded, leather collar. She was to be
punished for casting spells. The high school witch was almost naked, but they
never showed a complete front shot.
My hands were massaging under her T-shirt now, on her back and sides,
sometimes sliding a finger under the edge of her panties around the top and
sometimes around the bottom edge. I even rubbed her armpits almost to her
chest, glancing along the edge of her breasts. No objections so far. I
ventured to rub her fanny and the backs of her legs and even the insides of her
thighs. As my fingers 'accidently' touched her panties between her legs I
noticed they felt moist. She still squirmed sometimes, even though I wasn't
spanking.
We both jumped at the sound of the phone. Neither of us wanting to move
or break our own “spell.” Mom and Barb would not be home for another two hours.
Who could be calling?
“Are you two OK?” asked Mom’s voice.
“We’re fine. Just watching TV. We cleaned up the pizza already.”
thinking that was why she called.
“Get Emily on the other phone, Bobby.”
“Hi, Bev.” said Emily from the kitchen phone. She had pulled up her
jeans and run to the kitchen phone when I answered the one in the living room.
“Kids, it’s really getting bad outside. We’re going to spend the night
here at the Holiday Inn. The radio is saying nobody should be driving.”
A clicking, then Barb’s voice, “Honey, you’ll need to find something to
sleep in and spend the night at Bev’s house. You can find something to wear
in one of her drawers or maybe use one of Bobby’s shirts. You can sleep in
Aunt Bev’s bed. OK?”
Silence.
“Like I have a choice. Crap. Will I miss gymnastics paractice tomorrow?”
Emily finally replied.
“Honey, gymnastics will probably be cancelled. Everything’s getting
cancelled.”
“OK, Mom. We’ll be fine. Did you meet a guy or something?”
“Don't get smart. We’re snowed in. You two should be fine there. We’ll
call in the morning. And I meant it about not being too old for a spanking,
young lady.” Then to me, “Has she been helping, Bobby?”
“Well, yes. She cleaned up the pizza leftovers and put them in the
fridge. We’re just watching TV.” coming to Emily’s defense. "We might play
Checkers."
“Well, you kids take care. Find something to sleep in in Bev’s dresser,
Emily. Good night.”
After we all hung up, Emily came skipping into the living room laughing.
Her laughter blended with the howling, blowing wind outside. "Checkers?" she
asked, giggling.
“What should we do next?” different possibilities spinning in our heads?
“It’s your turn to rub my back. Or should I give you more spankings first? Or
maybe we should find you a nightie. We could make some popcorn and watch the
late, late movies.”
“I want to see the choice of nighties first.” she decided.
She was pulling off her socks as we bounded up the stairs. “Wait.” I said
as we entered Mom’s room. “I get to pick it out, OK?”
As she stopped to consider, I noticed her ‘buds’ looked even bigger when
she was standing up straight. When she noticed me looking at her chest, she
didn’t try to slouch or hide them. She just smiled at me and let me look. And
as I continued to look, with her tacit permission, her nipples poked forward,
changing shape before my eyes, BBs on golfballs.
“Then I get to pick out something for you to sleep in.” her words not
reaching me right away.
“What?”
“If you get to pick out what I have to wear, then I get to pick out what
you have wear. That’s only fair.”
“I don’t know.” I finally said.
“Then maybe I’ll just wear my sweatshirt.” as she opened mom’s jewelry
drawer - her first random choice. We looked at the assortment of jewelry. The
end of a flashlight covered by a cloth box struck my eye. “What’s this
flashlight doing here?” as I pulled out a white, plastic, pointed flashlight.
“Where’s the bulb?”
Emily doubled over with laughter. She couldn’t talk. Tears formed in her
eyes again. “Oh, Bobby. I don’t believe you!” still laughing. “Don’t you
know what this is?”
I had never seen it before. “We keep the other flashlights in the
kitchen drawer by the garage.”
“Sit down on the chair a minute,” leading me to the wooden chair next to
mom’s bed. “Close your eyes while I “flash” this on you, ‘Big Boy.’ I’ll show
you how it works. Jackie’s mom has one of these. We play with it sometimes
when she's gone.”
I sat there expecting to see light through my closed eyelids. Instead I
heard a buzzing noise. Suddenly I felt her push something against my chest
through my flannel shirt. It tickled. She touched it against my nipple and I
pulled away opening my eyes. I took it from her hand and felt it. It was
vibrating like an electric sander in shop class. Looking closer, turning it
this way and that, I finally asked, “What’s it for?”
“It’s a vibrator!”
“And?” looking back at her, still not getting the joke. What does it do?”
“Women use them, Bobby. They put this against themselves and tickle, like
giving yourself a massage." she was rubbing it on her shoulders and tummy,
down to her panties. "Didn’t you ever hear of a vibrator? Jackie's Mom has
one. We palyed with it once when she wasn't home. I don't know exactly how
they work. Maybe we could play with it.”
Feeling my skin turn color, I said, “Like a sex thing? But why would old
people use them? Mom is almost 40. She wouldn’t use one, would she? Is that
what makes the blood come out?”
“Bobby, I don’t want to be ‘sour castic,’ but you need to learn a few
things. Let's play with this for my massage. It might feel good on my back.”
Then twisting off the vibrator, she looked into the next drawer. “We can talk
more about this later, but I want to see my choices now.” We both noticed with
relief how messy her underwear and nightie drawers were. We could get
everything out and just throw stuff back in and she wouldn’t know if we had
opened it or not. There were panties of every color. Some silky, some just
strings with a cloth patch, some with ruffles, and some
stained, cotton ‘everyday’ panties. There was the same variety in the nightie
drawer. Some you could see right through.
Instantly turned on, just seeing her hand clearly through the pink
nightgown she was holding up, I tentatively said, “Try that one.”
Bargaining again, she replied, “Maybe I will. But only if you agree to
wear what I tell you.”
Passion overcoming judgment, I said, “Sure.”
Then in a dry, raspy voice, “Can I stay here and watch you try it on?”
“You stay here. I’ll go in the bathroom and try it on. I MIGHT come out
and model it for you, since you seemed to like watching my mom model her
clothes.” chiding me again.
I couldn’t speak. Sat on the chair, waiting, mind locked up without
words. Dick hard as a rock, but not daring to ‘adjust’ myself through my jeans
for fear of shooting right now.
The next minute seemed like 10. She walked out. Beauty. No jeans. No
T-shirt. Only her flowered panties under the nightie. I could see everything
clearly. Her pink nipples. She seemed uncommonly meek for a change. Not
talking. Looking down, as if waiting for my approval. “You look great, Em. I
didn’t know you were so grow-up, but those panties don't match. Either take
the panties off or find some that go with it.”
She pulled her panties down and stood up, kicking them off. I could see
the beginnings of a small blond bush over her still bare lips.
I walked to her and took her hand. “We can try some more outfits on
later. Let’s go back downstairs and I’ll rub your back some more, watch TV a
little bit. Ummm, for some reason, I feel kind of nervous,” as I led her
downstairs.
She was strangely quiet, then, half way down she blurted, “Just your
T-shirt and underwear for now,” telling me what to wear while I rubbed her
back.
Without talking we assumed the same positions we were in before the phone
call. Me in my underwear and T-shirt, she in mom’s nightie, the blanket over
us. I don’t think either of us heard a word as the witch ceremony continued.
Evidently she had escaped somehow and been caught again. Now the high school
witch had leg irons, handcuffs, and the leather collar with a chain leash. It
was an erotic scene, but almost comical - 20 grown men and women, all dressed
up, with a naked high school girl in chains. As the TV characters staked her
out on the concrete floor - legs and arms stretched out with chains, my hands
were feeling something much softer.
We were both aware that I wasn’t rubbing her back anymore. She had
scooted forward so her buns were centered on my lap. My left hand was now
under her nightie ‘massaging’ her firm breasts which were suspended between my
leg and her pillow. My right hand was on her fanny, thighs, and touching the
now-moist lips. Her legs spread a little farther apart every minute or two. I
could feel the peach fuzz on her lips as my fingers stroked up and down her
lips, not yet daring to ‘enter.' I had even scratched the tiny blond bush on
her mound like I was scratching our old Cocker Spaniel - kind of a
scratch-pull-rub motion.
Ever curious, and now knowing Emily as a source of honest information, I
asked, “Why is your pussy so wet, Emily?” Then, “May I put my finger in it?”
“Bobby, It gets THAT way when I feel THIS way. I’m not sure how to
explain it exactly, but it’s like I have an itch inside and want you to scratch
it for me. My tummy is quivering with excitement. It means you’re really
turning me on. And, Yes! Please put you finger in me, Bobby. I’ve been hoping
you would. Just go slow, OK?”
“Like this?” as my finger slipped in slowly... all the way.
“Ohhhhh, yes, just like that.”
*************************************************************************
***************
Author's note: please send any comments/suggestions/personal experiences to me
at corn53@aol.com. Parts of all of my stories are true. Some are composites
of memories which readers have shared with me. Thank you for your help with
this "literary research." - Corn53) My stories can be found at
www.mrdouble.com or at www.spiralzone.com - both are free sites.
--
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