Message-ID: <22184asstr$947286601@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: gitanostrings@yahoo.com Lines: 441 X-Original-Message-ID: <855228$s4j$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Jan 07 15:51:43 2000 GMT Subject: {ASSM} "Discovering Amy" (M/teen f) Part 1/5 Date: Fri, 7 Jan 2000 18:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman I know that a lot of you who have read my "Small Town Teens" stories will have a hard time believing that the same guy wrote this. Keep in mind that STT are stories of my youth, written in the vernacular of that age, this is a work of pure fiction. I wrote this quite some time ago, just for practice. I will appreciate any and all feedback, so if you like it- or if you hate it- don't be shy. Of course, since Deja has their stupid max character rule, I have posted this in 5 parts. And, as always, the usual stuff about being of legal age to read erotica applies. It seems that in life you often find that, just when you get comfortable on one course, you find yourself thrust off in a direction for which you are completely unprepared. My particular situation is a classic case in point. At thirty, I had thought that my life was pretty well in order. I had a wife and two young daughters. After working for seven years as a wage slave selling industrial equipment, I had taken a new position in a larger city as a senior consultant for a company specializing in helping other companies with environmental compliance. This meant that, instead of busting my hump in a cubicle all day, most of my work would be done from my home office or on site. When we moved, I had purchased a house from an elderly lady whose husband had recently died. She was moving back in with her kids and so had sold me the house lock, stock, and barrel, including all of the furniture and everything. It was a single level ranch in a quiet old neighborhood on a huge lot with beautiful old trees and a big swimming pool. The furnishings of the house were actually kind of tacky, like something out of a bad 1960s TV show, but I liked them. All in all, I guess I was pretty happy. I guess my wife wasn't, however, because our relationship went straight downhill after the move. Even though I was setting my own hours and making more money than ever, she was very unhappy and missed all of her old friends and family. To make a long (and very unpleasant) story short, one day she packed up the kids and all of her stuff into her car and left me. I was sure she'd be back and I never gave up hope- right up until the process server handed me the divorce papers. So there I was- alone and single in a strange city. For a couple of months, I tried the bar scene with mixed results. I found more than a few willing females but nobody I really wanted to spend more than a night with. I thought it'd be so easy- I had a big house, great car, good job. I just couldn't get into dating and all the hassles that went with it. Almost six months after the wife split, I was pretty much resigned to spending the rest of my life single. Anyway, early summer was upon me and I was working at home one hot afternoon. Well, okay, I was supposed to be working but I was really jerking off while watching a porno movie on my big screen TV. Hey- I'd gone a long time without a woman- it was time to take matters into my own hands, so to speak. I was really getting into the on-screen action when the doorbell rang. Being at home alot, I had gotten to talk to Jehovah's Witnesses, vacuum cleaner salesmen, kids selling magazine subscriptions, and damn near everybody else so I was tempted to blow it off and finish the important business at hand. The bell rang again so, with a sigh, I pulled my shorts up over my softening erection and went to the door. When I opened the door, my cock sprang back to full attention. On my front porch stood an absolute goddess. She looked to be maybe sixteen, about five foot two or so, with beautiful curly brown hair pulled back by a clip. She had that deliciously sexy petite body- somewhere between a girl and a woman, the kind you know is without an ounce of fat or a blemish to ruin the perfection. She wore little white Keds, a pair of white cotton shorts, and a tiny blue T-shirt that was just short enough to show a slice of her firm, tanned tummy. When I finally got to her face, she was staring at me with intense green eyes and I realized I had been way too obvious in checking her out. I mentally chided myself to be more subtle in the future as she smiled nervously, showing a flash of braces. "Hi., um... my name is Amy. I'm... uh, we're trying to raise some money... and, uh, would you like to buy a candy bar?" I then noticed that she was holding a cardboard box in one hand, the school find raiser kind of candy bar box. "Hi, Amy," I said with a smile, hoping to cover up for my lack of discretion when I first opened the door- and also hoping she wouldn't notice the huge bulge in the front of my shorts. "What are you trying to raise money for?" "Uh, we're... I'm a cheerleader at Southwest High and I'm... um, we need new uniforms for next year, so we're selling candy bars. You want one?" She was now looking at her shoes. Oh, okay," I said, pretending the decision was difficult. "How much are they and what kind do you have?" "We've got, uh," she looked into the box, "We've got crunch and caramel. They're a dollar each." "All right, hang on," I said. I went back into the house to get my wallet. As I came back to the glass front storm door, I could see Amy on the porch, looking across the street. I stared at her tight little ass for a moment. I could clearly see the outline of her white bikini panties under her shorts. When I opened the door, she spun around like she expected me to attack her. "Now, how many do you have?" "What?" she asked, a puzzled look crossing her pretty face. "How many candy bars are in that box?" I asked, pointing to the cardboard box she was holding. She opened the box and counted. "Thirty-two," she said. I pulled two twenties out of my wallet and handed them to her. "Here," I said, "I'll make it easy on you. Now you're all done. Oh, and you can keep the change. Buy some extra pom-pons or something." Amy looked at the money in her hand for a moment, then looked at me. "Thanks, uh... I mean, you don't have to..." "Hey, relax," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "I don't have anything else to spend money on. Besides, it's for a good cause." "Well, thanks... I, uh, really didn't want to waste a bunch of my summer selling candy anyway." Amy seemed to, in fact, relax a bit. She smiled again, this time showing all of her front teeth and confirming that she did indeed have braces. "No problem," I said, "All I ask is that you come back by when you get those new uniforms so that I can see what you're getting for my money." I didn't know why I just said that- it just spilled out. Now she probably thought I was some kind of pervert. A startled look flashed across her face for just a moment, quickly replaced by that smile again. "Okay... sure," she said, "I'll come back when we get them." "Great... by the way, my name is Steve... Steve Parks." "Thanks, Mr. Parks, my name is Amy... oh, I guess I already said that, huh?" She laughed- just a short little girl giggle. "Yeah, but hey- call me Steve. Mr. Parks is my dad, okay?" "Okay... Steve, um... I gotta go now, okay? See ya!" And then she was gone, across my front yard, around the hedge, and down the sidewalk out of view. I stepped back into the house, closed the front door, and yanked out my dick. It was as stiff as a steel bar. Wrapping my fist around the shaft, I began to stroke frantically. It took less than a minute for me to empty my load onto the carpeted floor of my entryway. Gasping for air, I tucked myself back into my pants, then I reopened my front door and grabbed the box of candy bars that I had left on the front porch. For the next few days, Amy had a starring role in my masturbatory fantasies. I brought myself to the peak of ecstasy over and over with mental images of her performing every conceivable sexual act on me, and me performing all manner of unspeakable acts on her. Of course, these were just fantasies. I didn't really care to do twenty years in the state pen and besides, I'd probably never see Amy again anyway- or so I thought. A couple of weeks went by and my brief encounter with Amy had all but faded from my mind. I was laying out in my back yard, which is rather large and completely enclosed by an eight foot brick wall. The three sides that are not house are further enclosed by trees, ranging from a single row on either side to a veritable forest at the very back of the property. Plenty of sun still reaches the pool patio but the entire yard is completely shielded from outside view- even if one were to climb the wall and try to look over. Because of the fact that I was thusly assured of complete privacy, I had discovered the pleasure of sunbathing nude. Not only did I get an "all over" tan, I also enjoyed the warmth of the sun on those parts of my body that decorum usually prevented from seeing the light of day. So there I was, completely nude, laying on my back, basking in the warmth of the late morning summer sun while reading a book. Fortunately, I had left the back sliding patio door open which allowed me to hear the faint chiming of the doorbell. I got up off of my chaise, pulled on my shorts which were on the patio deck nearby, and ran to answer the door. I didn't know who it could be but I chuckled to myself as I remembered what a pleasant surprise I had gotten the last time I answered the door in the middle of the day. I certainly didn't expect that to ever happen to me again. I opened the door and lost my breath. I couldn't believe my eyes! There stood Amy, this time wearing- oh my God, she was wearing her cheerleading uniform! I forgot my admonishment to myself last time to be more subtle as I drank in the sight of her. She wore white Nikes with white socks that had little white lace trim around the tops. Her luscious tanned legs ended where her white pleated skirt began, the skirt being just long enough to cover her ass. The white sleeveless top was trimmed in red at the collar and along the sides and had "SWHS" in big red letters diagonally across the front. She was again wearing her hair pulled up (I wondered what she looked like with it down) and was watching me with those big green eyes of hers. She had her head down slightly and was biting on her lower lip like a little girl, obviously embarrassed to be examined like this. "Oh, wow, Amy," I said, finally catching my breath, "You look fabulous!" "You think so?" Se was blushing now. "My legs look too fat in this skirt." Christ, just like a woman, fishing for compliments! "There's nothing on you that looks fat... the uniform looks great on you!" My heart was pounding, among other things. I couldn't wait to jack off with this mental image. "I really appreciate you coming by to show it to me." "Well, you said... um, I wanted you to see..." She was stammering now. She looked at me for a moment and I suddenly realized that I was wearing nothing but a pair of flimsy cotton shorts. "I... uh, I'm sorry if I got you up" (if she only knew!) "or out of the shower or something." "No, no... I was just laying out by the pool..." Now I was a bit embarrassed. I was sure that the outline of my erection was plainly visible through the thin cotton of my shorts. "You have a pool?" Amy asked suddenly, her eyes lighting up. "Uh, yeah... in the back yard..." "I wish we had a pool," said Amy. "I'm on the swim team at school and I really should swim every day but it's too far to school and I don't drive yet." "Come on in and I'll show it to you," I offered, holding open the door. I realized that being half naked and inviting a clearly underage girl wearing a cheerleading uniform into my house may not have looked very good to my neighbors but a quick glance around revealed only the blank faces of houses that seemed to be empty. Amy, for her part, didn't hesitate at all, instead walking right in. "Straight on back down the hallway." I followed Amy down the hall, my eyes glued to the hem of her short skirt swishing back and forth as she walked, just barely covering the bottom of her butt. She had amazingly toned and muscled legs, obviously the result of lots of exercise. "You've got a really nice house," she commented over her shoulder. "Hmm?" I became aware that she was speaking to me. "Oh, thanks. It's awfully big for just me but it's home." "Oh, wow, it's beautiful!" Amy exclaimed as she opened the sliding glass door to the patio. "How come you live here all alone? Aren't you married?" "I am... er, was," I replied, "I'm divorced. My wife... uh, ex-wife and kids live out of town." "Oh," she said, turning to me and putting her hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be nosy!" "No, that's okay," I said. "Water under the bridge. Hey, speaking of water, how about that pool?" "It's great!" Amy said, turning her attention back to the pool. She kicked off her Nikes and used one hand to steady herself on the patio table as she pulled off first one sock, then the other. As she bent over to reach her socks, her skirt climbed far enough up her backside for me to see the triangle of red Spandex where the briefs under her skirt disappeared between her legs. Straightening back up, she dipped her toes into the water. "Oooh... it's warm," she said in a voice that almost made me come in my pants. "The pool at school is so cold... this feels soooo good!" You can... uh, use... I mean, um, swim in it... uh, any time you want," I said, my voice cracking. For God's sake, I was nearly twice this girl's age. I should be all cool and smooth and instead here I was, stuttering like I'm sixteen and trying to ask her to the homecoming dance! She looked at me for a long moment with those big green eyes, as if trying to read something in my face. "Really?" I swallowed hard, trying to clear my throat. "Sure... just come over whenever..." "Cool!" she squealed. "Do you mind if I go swimming now?" "Uh, no," I answered, "Go ahead. But what about... I mean, you, uh, don't have a... you know, swimsuit." For a brief moment I thought- and I sure as hell hoped- she was just going to strip off her clothes and jump in. "I know, silly!" she laughed. "I'll run home and put it on. I just live around the corner." She grabbed her shoes and socks and started for the door. "You're sure it's okay?" "Uh, yeah, sure... just let yourself back in. I'll be back here." With that she was gone. As soon as I heard the front door close, I dropped my shorts and freed my pounding erection from it's prison. I closed my eyes and envisioned Amy in her sexy little cheerleading uniform as I urgently masturbated. I gasped as an enormous jet of semen erupted out of me and landed on the patio concrete, followed by another, somewhat smaller blast. One final spurt landed between my legs and I breathed deeply, savoring the sweet bliss of orgasm. I suddenly realized that I needed to make myself presentable if Amy was coming back over. I ran into the house, stripped off my thin cotton shorts, and pulled on a pair of jean shorts with boxers underneath. At least now I wouldn't have to worry about portions of my anatomy poking out at an inopportune moment. Slipping on some Aquasox, I padded back out onto the patio, stepping over the puddle of my fresh come. I had just plopped down onto my chaise and slipped on my Ray-Bans when I heard the front door open, then close. "Mr. Parks? It's me... Amy," she called, as though I were expecting dozens of teenage girls and she needed to announce which one she was. "Come on..." I squeaked. I cleared my throat. God, what was this girl doing to me? "Come on out," I called in a more normal voice, "I'm out here." She emerged from the house into the bright afternoon sunlight. I sucked my breath in through my teeth as I studied her through the dark lenses of my sunglasses. She was wearing a one piece electric red swimsuit, cut high around the neck but not so high around the hips. Not very revealing as far as bare skin showing, but tight enough to fill in plenty of my imagined details of Amy's delightful little body. "What did I tell you about calling me Mr. Parks?" I asked as I watched her walk over to where I sat. As I stared, through my sunglasses, between her legs at the cleft that was visible through the tight red material, I was very glad I had changed my shorts. She stopped a few feet from me and dropped the towel that she was carrying onto the deck chair. "My name is Steve." "Sorry... Steve," she said as she took the hair clip out of her hair. Once released, her curly brown mane cascaded down onto her shoulders. So that's what she looked like with it down. Her hair was not very long, only a little beyond her shoulders, and fairly tightly curled. The curls showed off streaks of lighter reddish brown and there were even some blondish highlights. All in all, her hair was the finishing touch to her "cute little cheerleader" look. "I forgot... it won't happen again." "It had better not," I said, smiling to show that I was kidding. My eyes, however, were busy running all over her body. Her breasts, obviously small anyway, were flattened out by the tight suit. Her hips were still narrow, without any of the flaring that occurs as women age. When she turned around to kick off her shoes, I finally got a good look at her tight little ass. It was, as I had expected, beautifully firm, without any fat and absolutely no sag. This girl was incredible. Amy walked past me to the shallow end of the pool. There were a series of steps leading down into the pool and she slowly descended them, slipping into the water. "Oh, this feels great!" she said as she sank up to her shoulders. She ducked her head under water, then came back up, shaking her head to get her wet hair out of her face. She then began to swim, the crawl stroke, across the pool. Soon, she was swimming laps. All I could do was watch in awe as her lithe body cut through the water. Whatever else she was good at, she was definitely a good swimmer. After ten minutes or so of steady swimming, she slowed her pace. Rolling onto her back, she began a leisurely back stroke to the shallow end of the pool. Once there, she made her way up the steps and out of the pool. I had grabbed her towel off of the chair and handed it to her as she stepped out of the water. She dried her face and rubbed her hair, then sat down in the deck chair as I returned to my chaise. "Oh, that was great!" she enthused, "Awesome! God, I wish I had a pool at home!" "I told you," I replied, still staring at her body through my sunglasses. God, her nipples were hard and looked like they were going to poke right through her suit! "You can use this one any time you want." "I can't... I mean, you've got to go to work and stuff... besides..." she trailed off. "Anytime I'm home, you're welcome to come over and swim," I said. "The only reason I have to be here is that you have to go through the house to get to the pool. Otherwise, you could use it any time at all." "You're sure?" Amy was looking at me intently- I wasn't quite sure why. "Yeah... no problem," I reassured her, like I was really going to turn her away. "I hardly ever swim in it and it seems like a waste of time for me to clean it and take care of it if nobody's going to use it." Amy slipped on a pair of sunglasses and reclined back in the deck chair. For the next three hours or so we talked, just talked, getting to know one another. I told her the sad, sad tale of how I ended up alone in a strange town. She took her turn, telling me about herself, answering many of the questions I'd wanted to ask but hadn't felt right about asking. Amy was sixteen and going to be a sophomore next year. Obviously, she was a cheerleader but she herself admitted that she wasn't very popular, even among the other cheerleaders. She described them as "stuck-up snotty bitches" and said that they didn't like her because she didn't "fuck the whole football team." When she said this, I glanced over in surprise. I wondered if this meant that she had a boyfriend that the other cheerleaders didn't approve of or if she meant that she was a virgin and didn't fuck anybody at all. She answered that question in the next breath, explaining that her mom wouldn't let her date. As time went on, she talked about her family. Her mom and dad were still married, although separated. She lived with her mom who was seeing some guy who was a real jerk. She had no brothers or sisters and her mom, who was an electrical engineer at a plant that made aircraft instruments, worked second shift, meaning Amy spent most of her time alone. I thought this sucked and said so. "So what do you do?" "Oh, you know," she said, stretching her lean, firm body in the chair, "I go to the mall if I can catch a ride, or just hang at the house. I really like to jog. Sometimes I jog to the library." That explains the legs. "You don't have friends in the neighborhood?" I asked. She looked at me for a moment to see if I was joking. "Oh, yeah, you're new here. Everybody in this neighborhood is ancient! I'm the only one around here who's under a hundred!" She looked at me again and laughed. "Besides you, of course!" "Yeah, I was gonna say," I laughed too. We both fell silent, letting the warm sun beat down on us. After several minutes, I glanced over at her. "What are you thinking?" "Nothing...." she said softly, trailing off again. "Oh, come on. You've gotta be thinking something. Besides, if we don't liven up a funeral's gonna break out around here!" Amy smiled. "Okay, but you gotta promise you won't laugh." "On my honor as an officer and a gentleman," I replied with an exaggerated British accent. "No, seriously!" she said, looking slightly hurt. "Okay," I said, sitting up, "I promise." "I was... oh, I was... thinking..." she hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Spit it out!" I urged. "Oh, okay! I was just... I guess, uh, wishing that you were... you know..." she stopped. "That I was what?" I knew what I thought she was going to say, but I didn't want to guess and be wrong. "I wish you weren't so old," she blurted out. That's what I thought she was going to say. "Hey! You make me sound like I'm ready for a rocking chair on the front porch of the Sunnydale Nursing Home!" Amy smiled nervously. "No, it's not that... I mean, I wish that you were my age... you're the first boy... well, you know what I mean... that I feel like I can talk to and be around. If you were my age, well..." "I know what you mean," I smiled at her, "To tell you the truth, I feel the same way. If I was sixteen right now, I'd... well, anyway." I clasped my hands together behind my head and leaned back. "Look Amy, you're a very special young woman with a lot going for you- no, I mean it! Somewhere out there there's some guy who's going to see how special you are and want to treat you right. I know that it may not seem that way now, but I'll bet he's a lot closer that you think. When you meet him, you'll know it." What I didn't say was that there was a thirty year old guy sitting right here who would like nothing more than to fulfill her every need. She laughed slightly. "I wish he'd hurry up and show up!" She looked down at herself for a long moment. "Next time I come over, I'll have to wear something that lets me get a little more sun... if it's still okay for me to come over again?" "Sure, Amy, like I said- anytime." We sat in silence for a long time, until the sun began to drop behind the tall trees at the back of the yard. Finally, Amy stood up and said, "Well, I'd better get going." Slowly, she picked up her towel and wrapped it around her slim waist. She began to walk towards the house and I got up to follow. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to me. I was taken completely by surprise when she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. I could feel the warmth of her body against me, separated only by a layer of thin material. We stood for several moments and I soaked in the sensation of her breathing, her heartbeat, her tiny yet tautly muscled body. I looked down at her and she looked up at me. I looked into those deep green eyes and I thought I saw... a deep flush of crimson blush spread across her cheeks, blending into the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I wasn't sure what to do next, I knew what I wanted to do, but... and then, as if she had made a decision within herself, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me. I stood perfectly still in surprise as she pressed her sweet lips against mine. The kiss didn't last long- only a moment- but in that moment, I felt a rush of desire, passion, maybe even... no, it couldn't be. As quickly and suddenly as she had kissed me, she was gone, running from the patio like a scared rabbit. I can't say that I blamed her- I felt the same way. That night, I lay in bed and slowly stroked my rock hard penis as I imagined fucking Amy... no, that wasn't right. There was something very special about this girl. I didn't just want to fuck her... I wanted to make love to her. I imaged her calling out my name as, with our naked, sweaty limbs entangled, we moved in that innate, natural rhythm, gently exploring each other until... alone, in my darkened room, I moaned Amy's name over and over as my sticky seed sprayed all over my chest and stomach. I fell asleep imagining her laying against me, as we whispered the quiet secrets of lovers. The next morning when I awoke, I stumbled into the bathroom and looked myself hard in the eyes. In the cold light of reality (read: daytime) I told myself that I had simply been too long without a woman. I couldn't be infatuated with a girl half my age... could I? Hell, I'd go to prison for sure. Yet, I found myself thinking up scenarios where she and I could somehow... no, I told myself over and over, it just wasn't right. After showering and dressing, I had reached a conclusion. If anything were to develop between me and Amy, I would simply take it as it happened. I wasn't going to press the issue. If this was going to happen, it would be fully her choice. With the problem thus resolved, I sat down to get some work done. If you can't find the other parts, e-mail me at gitanostrings@yahoo.com and I might send them to you, if you ask nicely. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+