Message-ID: <20753eli$9903240425@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: sweets1140@aol.com (Sweets1140) Subject: Sweets at School, part fourteen (M/f, voy.ped, 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: <19990323151514.00971.00000444@ng-fd1.aol.com> Sweets at School, part fourteen The camera was set up when she arrived. His old Leica on a tall tripod facing the window through which the late afternoon sun streamed through gauze white muslin curtains shone bright and polished. He took good care of his equipment.. Sweets was so excited. She looked forward to this day with Paul. He was her favorite special friend in all the world. He was so whiskered and so kind that she just knew she loved him lots and lots. He had asked if he "may" take some pictures of her to memoralize her sprite flowering each day as they played cards and he taught her to touch herself. She was thrilled and shy at once because she did not think herself pretty as others in her class. She felt plain and rumpled most days except under his gaze when all wrinkles left her blouse and her pleats seemed straight and sharp as knife edges. He made her forget that her socks slipped into her regulation black tie shoes or her raggedy formerly white athletic shoes. He made her feel like she looked perfect even when she knew she had broken nails, scratches on her knees and her braids were crooked or undoing themselves as she raced around sweating until the wisps became tendrils curling at the back of her neck and near her ears. His way of seeing her was becoming the way she saw herself under his gaze. It felt odd being inside herself and yet being behind his eyes sometimes when he leaned on his elbows while he waited for her to decide which cards to throw down. He looked into her eyes with a smile that made his whiskers move up and down. She liked watching them move out of the corner of her eye. He gave her some fresh lemonade and asked her to sit in a sun lit spot atop the starred blue and white quilt from his big wide bed which he had put down and made smooth for her before she came. She dropped her book bag at the edge of the quilt, plopped in the middle of it and began to take large swallows of the lemonade as he stepped behind the camera and adjusted a filter and lens to prepare for the first shot. Wait, wait, Paul! Maybe I should comb my hair or straighten my clothes? No, Sweets, just be as you are and do whatever you want. Pretend there is no camera, just me looking at you, my darlin' girl. She mugged and posed; stood up with her hands on her hips, turned around to where her white blouse was escaping from the waist of her short pleated blue plaid school skirt. When she looked back at him from this position, he nearly felt his knees buckle. God, she was beautiful like that! Her prankster showed from this angle. When she bent forward to pick up her glass, his mouth went dry. He kept clicking as she retrieved the glass, began sipping, then crunching on the ice cubes--he had warned that was not so good for her teeth--her recall coincided with his: now, don't do that; it is not good for your teeth! She turned around, saying, I know, I know. They both laughed because they often did that of late. Her braids went in separate directions. The sweat shining on her face barely masked small freckles across her nose. She stuck her tongue out at him. His seeing this through the lens made him laugh aloud. She placed the empty glass on the nearby table and returned to standing akimbo on the quilt. Now, what do I do, she asked? Whatever you want, sweetheart, he said. It looked like she was thinking for a moment, then she reached down to the hem of her skirt in front and raised it to look at her own plain white slip, raised that and kept both gathered up in her hands to look down at her panties and socks. Should I take these off, maybe? If you want to, Sweets, whatever you want is okay with me, he said. She dropped the skirt and slip, reached up under them and slid her panties off. She tossed them at the camera with a snicker which he echoed as he retrieved them for later. When she reached for her socks, Paul said, no. leave them on. We don't want you to have cold feet. She got his meaning and they smiled at each other. This time she turned her back to him and lifted skirt and slip for tucking into her waistband because she knew how much he liked her round buttocks. She wanted him to have a picture of them. He asked her to turn left, then right. She did with ease as she was graceful. Then he asked to kneel which changed the shape of those round firm buttocks to firmer still, but softer in some parts not noticed by him before. He could barely click the shutter he was so smitten with the sight of her. The sun added a gold sheen to her pale-pinked white bottom that made him thirsty for a taste of her. He almost wanted a bite. He requested that she face forward and sit down which she did with legs straight out in front of her. She said that made her knees tired, could she please put her knees up and he said, of course, dear heart. When her knees went up so did her skirt and his camera caught a dark cavern between her thighs where he could almost, but not quite, see her small bottom and it's tiny cleft. He was ecstatic. He wondered if his camera caught what his eyes knew or hoped he saw. He kidded her a bit. I can see your pretty pussy peeking out from there! She blushed and brought her knees together unaware that what he saw stayed visible through the lens because her feet remained wide apart. Her bottom was framed by the inverted v shape her legs were in. She looked delicious. His hands were shaking. He wished he could get down on the floor, flat on his stomach, to gaze between those white socked feet to the point of his desire. She sensed he was pleased and turned herself over onto her stomach. Her skirt stuck halfway through the turn. He called out, leave it, leave it like that! She paused while he clicked through at her skirt riding higher as her bottom exposed itself to the slanting sun. When she heard him exhale in a great whoosh, she straightened her skirt whose edge did not conceal the edge of buttocks meeting her thighs. That crease on each was driving him wild. He must, must, trace it just for a minute. He must. He moved toward her as she lay face down and said, hold on for a minute, I just need to... touch you, right here, like this... As his finger traced one and then the other, her back lifted up to meet his hands such that the path between her buttocks widened as he watched. Oh, my god, he whispered, over and over. Oh, my god, this is good... Can you hold that position for a minute, Sweets? Of course, she said. She loved making him breathless and whispery like that. His quick trip back behind the tripod showed him he had begun leaking in spots on his khaki slacks. He hoped he could last and not need to go masturbate before he took a few more shots. It was iffy at this point. She was just so comely and he was very hot. He changed the angle of the shot so there was shadow where her anus bud opened. He changed it again until a suggestion of her pussy lips appeared. He could tell she was aroused and holding still the way he wanted. It was making him crazy. He had to call a halt to this session. Or else, he'd... Humor saved him. What a ham, you are, he said. You just ham it up for the camera, kid, don't you? She wasn't sure whether he was kidding or not and felt a sting of hurt until he winked and she winked back. What does that mean, ham, she queried. Is it good or bad? It's fine, sweetheart. With what you've got, ham is good. What say we have some tea, now and hand of cribbage? Leave all that right where it is. I have your panties here. Maybe you want to put them on now. Okay, she said. I'll go get the board and set out our cups. As she took the panties from his hand, she asked, did I do all right, Paul? Did I do what you want? Yes, sweet girl, you certainly did. I will not forget this day. I will not. Paul stood still and thought he could not move from this spot. The sun felt warm. The camera shone. His bed quilt had dents where her feet had been. He had never felt so happy. Sweets at School, part fourteen swe3/99l.txt -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----