Message-ID: <20861eli$9903300221@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: sweets1140@aol.com (Sweets1140) Subject: Sweets at School, part fifteen (M/f, ped, ex, mc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d 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: <19990329201741.09044.00002000@ng-fd1.aol.com> Sweets at School, part fifteen Today's sitting on Paul session included his showing her the pictures he took of her during a previous visit. He delighted in watching her finger trace her own body on the print. He shuddered with pleasure as she traced buttocks and thighs, then ankles, ears and elbows of herself showing herself to him. He sensed--hoping it was not wishful thinking-- she was aroused somehow by this seeing and touching this part and that because she rocked a little back and forth on his lap which warmed under her slip covered pantiless bottom. His voice in her ear, her tiny pink small lobed lovely ear, caused the hairs therein to feel his blowing breathlessness which tickled, she said as she scrunched her neck for a minute until his words caused it to come back straight for more. She rocked a little faster and pressed on him where he would rise to greet her plump round bottom whose bones caught him every so often as she rocked. He wanted to hold her hips and rub her back and forth as he cooed in her ear. His restraint arose from needing to watch her seeing herself as he saw her in the pictures sliding slowly through her hands. He wondered how much she knew or could imagine he felt seeing her in pictures she was holding as he spoke of changes in posture... here you turned over and your skirt caught... here you lifted your bum to the sun for me... here you made those silly faces to make me laugh... here I kissed those creases... When she said, I see that, hmmm, I see that, she moved as if snuggling closer to where he stirred. He knew he dripped hot, caught in the spell of her unruly hair, her sweat, her rocking back and forth on his lap and his need to whisper more softly as the pictures passed from one to other. Time stopped when she said, Paul, can I play, you know... you know? He set the pack of pictures down very carefully so as not to disturb the rhythm of her rocking. He thanked whatever gods there were that youthful bolt upright hardness did not occur so fast at his age--he would not frighten her for anything, ever. The rocking was just right, just right for spilling his spurts down between his legs under her. He felt it. May I take him out, she asked? Can I watch him come out like a turtle? Please Paul, may I? I'll be careful, I promise. Pretty please? An old expression, died and gone to heaven, crossed his mind. Well, be very careful, Sweets. You know about zippers? Of course, I do, she said. I have things with zippers, silly! No, darlin' I mean about zippers here--he pointed at his. Well, not so much, she said. But we can do it together, right? She hopped off his lap and a buttock bone caught him squarely off guard. His ouch! caused her to turn saying, what happened, did I hurt you? I'm sorry, really sorry, Paul. He laughed. Not to worry. I forget even round ones have bony behinds at your age! It's okay, really, I'm fine; surprised is all. You hop up so fast, Sweets, like a frog from a lily pad. He loved seeing her eyes fill with concern in an instant then see them clear as fast. He so loved this dear girl. She knelt before him with furrowed brow concentrating on finding the top of the zipper which seemed stuck under his belt while he was seated. Catching the tab, she yanked. Nothing happened. He showed how to snap the tab down into place and then begin the slide past one tooth at a time until he shifted position so the slide could continue all the way down inside the stitched placket on his khaki trousers. Sweets licked her lips as she focused on the task at hand. Her dark hair framed her face--the contrast and her intensity touched him. His belt felt tight around his waist so he said, hold on, let me loosen this...it'll make it easier for both of us. She paused as he undid his belt, unbuttoned the waist band. His large stomach relaxed to his great relief. She poked him and giggled: Pillsbury's dough boy, dough boy, coochie, coo! They both laughed as he ducked from her poking his belly. Every so often, she went off a tangent like that which he so enjoyed as it relieved the near pain he felt so close to her. Allowing someone to be so intimate with him was a new experience. Even his beloved dead wife took him seriously. She would not have poked at his soft belly and caused him to laugh along with her at the unexpected intrusion on his person. Sweets had this way of disarming him. He found her irresistible and joined in with ease foreign to his serious self. As he reached through the flap on his briefs, she spoke. Could I see more, you know, like the rest of you? You know, like underneath? He lifted slightly from the seat and pulled the briefs past his hips all the way to his thighs and watched her mouth shape an O and heard her say, oh! He put both hands under his sac to present himself as she requested and her oh! changed to a series of oh, oh, oh, oh... which he endured as the sweetest torture of his long life. Ignoring his penis which had seen before, she tentatively touched a testicle with her forefinger and asked, does that hurt? He smiled, no, Sweets, that does not hurt. Would you like to hold one? No squeezing, okay? Just hold it. He took her hand and cupped it nearly closed and jockeyed into position to lift one into her cup which stretched the skin from wrinkled parchment to near taut at the top. She smiled. Wow! This is so nice, like a little ball, but, well, softer, like an old fashioned smerf or something. Her other hand reached to trail on the taut part as she asked, does stretched out like that hurt? Paul said, no, not so far, honey, while he nosed her face with his. She said, Paul, look, look, there's a dividing line sort of-- there's hair--which she proceded to pull on to stretch it out until he said, wait, wait, don't pull! Just pat there, like you pat a kitty, Sweets. You don't pull a kitty's fur, do you? She showed her embarrassment in that look he found so endearing. He nosed kissed her again. She moved a hand to hold the other one and announced: they feel different, this one feels different from that one! How come? Paul's smile was a concession to self-control he did not feel he could maintain much longer in the moment. He said, humans are all a little lop-sided. When you become a woman and have breasts, one will be slightly different from the other, it happens. Nothing is perfectly symmetrical... When she asked him what that meant after guessing, like the same, right? He could not suppress the urge to laugh aloud. You got it, Sweets. Things that look the same may feel different. Twins even look different, just a tiny bit different--like my balls. She whooped. That is not what they are called, Paul! We learned about those. Their name is testicles--like tickling, tickling--which she did very gently and made him laugh. His composure returned and he began his lecture on the meaning of the word testimony. First she tittered, then she giggled at the image he provided of grown-up men holding them and promising to tell the truth. Her laughter provided the break he needed to recapture his equipment and tuck it away for the time being. Not easy given tumescence that required more room than when he began this endeavor. She stayed on her knees watching how he did it all the way through to his buckling his belt. The buckle jangled and broke the silence between them as she held still. Now, young lady, whose every wish is my command, I have a request for you. Up, up, now and follow me, Sweets. Sweets at School, part fifteen swe3/99m.txt -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----