Message-ID: <20714eli$9903220435@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: sweets1140@aol.com (Sweets1140) Subject: Sweets at School,part twelve (M/f, ped, ws, mc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Authentication-Warning: backdraft.philabs.research.philips.com: smap set sender to using -f Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19990321152650.12352.00000181@ng-fq1.aol.com> Sweets at School, part twelve Paul thought about his dear girl often. So did Theo who was torn between an urge to enter her somehow or to follow his father's gentleness examples. It was a struggle for Theo when he remembered her holding his penis as he pissed--that small strong hand around his member which loved that small strong hand and would have it there every morning. He relived the expression on her face when the stream started and how delighted she seemed to be as she watched it hitting the tree. Paul, on the other hand, thought of her in another way, as a sweet blossom to tend until she learned how to employ an undeveloped clitoris for her personal pleasure beyond being merely the one sucked dry by greedy men and women who would keep her fixed on the joy-pain in urine drawing. Paul saw Sweets as his private mission, his student of an art he had mastered because he so loved women. His private thoughts frequently turned to bathing Sweets, parting those plump lips and letting her pee freely where his fingers could catch some while she giggled at his seriousness--for this was serious to him--although not yet to her who laughed nervously more often than even she wanted to as she chatted and went on about this and that while he waited patiently, impatiently, but quietly because he so liked this sweet one, his small friend. Unlike Theo who quelled an urge to enter her somehow, to put things, anythings, inside every opening for the sake of his joy seeing her turn and be full of this and that, Paul wanted her to discover how to touch herself such that she melt away gently whether her fingers or his stroked a clitoris as it developed and began a life of its own. He wanted to be present at this birthing and growing. He wanted to help, to coddle her into finding out how truly lovely she was and why he adored and appreciated her. Sweets sensed the difference and gravitated to Paul, the kind one, who she trusted with her all unlike those men who pushed against her in lines or helped themselves without asking her permission. In her heart, she knew what was good for her and Paul made her at ease by changing the subject, not rushing her, but being persistent in a nice way. He listened to her school and life stories beyond a point of an ordinary listener who would be bored by children prattling on for hours and hours. Now and then, he slipped something into the conversation over cards just to see her stammer and blush while she sorted out what he was saying. He especially enjoyed watching her squirm in the chair trying to cope with unfamiliar swelling and a pouting kind of sensation in her tiny pussy--a word she had not yet learned to say; she was a painfully shy one about such words. It tickled him to watch her trying to mask the feelings he knew his jokes and whispers caused. He knew the involuntary movements caught her by surprise and made it difficult for her to concentrate on their card games and talks about current events and school matters. He so wanted to provoke her to that rocking from side to side that occurred one time while he had her transfixed in his gaze and listening to one of his stories about one of many women he knew. Sweets felt like his pal, his equal, a peer when he told her stories (he had dozens because he was man who truly loved women all shapes, sizes and ages) about spraying warm water over himself and pouring upon others who shared his delight in being caught on the toilet where he could part their thighs and hold his hand under just as he had done with Sweets that glorious bath time. She listened hard and often felt she was the woman he was telling her about. She felt so grown up to be his confidante. She wanted to become one of his stories. The thought made her rock and rub her buttom side to side while he spoke and she reacted as his pretty one in this moment. When Paul proposed that she undress and lie face up atop him. She raced to do so because she had been rocking and rubbing under his eyes for a very long story. Paul lay down fully clothed and asked only that she remove her panties which she did. He called her to stretch out upon him as the ceiling fan turned and the mantle clock in the next room sounded the time in Westminster chimes. When the last chime sounded and she was in position, he took two fingers of her right hand within his right hand, moistened both their fingertips in his mouth and in her mouth, then placed all upon her cleft. He said, Sweets, I want to show you how to pleasure yourself so you can be independent of sorts. I do this because I cherish you, my dearest. Sweets nodded and waited for what was next. Paul guided her finger tips at right angles to her cleft into the space between those lips and slowly began to guide the making of that kind of circle he had made when he bathed her and touched her standing up while she thought she needed to escape, but did not want to be without his fingers right there, like that. Paul whispered as he moved her fingers. He spoke of how lovely she was right there, right there. He told her it was time to learn what he knew so she could do that to herself before sleeping. Sweets had told him when she was little, she sucked her thumb. Now that she was older and since Paul touched her, she put a finger between those lips and fell asleep as gently as when she sucked her thumb as a child. Sweets felt eager to learn what Paul knew, although she thought that he should do it instead of her as touching yourself meant you had to tell it in confession or something as an impure act from an impure thought. Paul had said, there are no impure thoughts, Sweets. Your body is pure and good no matter what has happened to it and it perfectly natural to experience the pleasure of it. As Paul whispered and stroked, her fingers under his fingers encountered a slippering satin wetness so unlike the urine that she was pleased. He explained where it came from and why it was good. He had her raise her fingers to taste it. She found it tasteless, but good. When he had her dip in again, he said, it is time to share, let me have some to that. She did. His tasting her wet fingers took a long time. She lifted up and turned to see what he was doing and she was quite pleased. He looked into her eyes as he licked over and over. She felt spurts starting as though she must make more for him because he liked it so much. She did. When his fingers holding hers returned to parted lips, she felt the firmness of them and how the pressure was different and how she wanted to stick something out for their fingers to play on. It was a grand sensation. She wished it would never stop. She became breathless as Paul said, don't hold your breath like that, Sweets! Breathe in and out and in and out. We have no need to hurry this. It is an important lesson for you to learn. Now, breathe! They both laughed in unison at her excitement making her forget to breathe. Paul moved his fingers to tickle her belly and she took a fit of laughing that led them to disconnect and begin to laugh loudly together, her bottom work forgotten. The chimes in the next room sounded. Paul said, oh, oh, it's time to go, Sweets. No. No. No more for today. There will be another time. You promise? Yes, Sweets, I promise. Now get on your way... Wait! you forgot your panties! Properly pantied, Sweets ran out the kitchen door. Sweets at School, part twelve swe3/99j.txt -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----