Message-ID: <22457asstr$948813001@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: Saynesberry@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <7d.44dff6.25be6c6c@aol.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: {ASSM} Learning With Lyn III: The Slumber Party Date: Tue, 25 Jan 2000 10:10:01 -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: assm-admin Learning With Lyn III: The Slumber Party (mf, ff, pedo, voyeur, masturbation) After little Lyn and I first became lovers, in the springtime of her seventh year, our lives changed in many ways: some predictable, some utterly astonishing. It wasn't surprising that our day-to-day relationship became closer: now that we had become physically intimate, a bond existed between us that no outsider, even her own Mother, could ever even perceive. Neither could the child's natural father, with whom Lyn continued to visit during holidays: years later, when he was told about our secret love, he teadfastly refused to believe it, insisting that his ex-wife, my dear Agatha, was merely trying to make him *feel guilty.* It serves Aggie right, in my opinion, but then, that's probably the voice of bitterness. Lyn was my lover, but she was still a child, subject to all the moods and "crises" of childhood. So I shouldn't have been surprised when, after our first few times in each other's arms, she sometimes became distant, shy, and seemingly unreceptive to my adoration for days, weeks, even months at a time. A night of desperate, utterly uninhibited passion would be followed by long periods of coolness. I never tried to press the matter, however. I had not really started our "affair," and I was determined to let Lyn set whatever pace she chose. After all, she had been the aggressor, despite her innocence, from the very beginning, and I didn't want to frighten her , quench her natural desires, or scar her emotionally. All these things are clear in retrospect, but at the time, each day was a new revelation, a new surprise. Such as the time, when Lyn had just turned ten years old, and had her first slumber party. It was a Friday night, and she had invited six of her *very best friends* from the Meadowville Elementary School to spend the night. (All six were girls, of course! The precious, puzzling girl still had her childhood aversion to boys; even when she was drooling and cooing over my cock, or rubbing her bare little pussy in my face, she would say, "You're so nice, Daddy! But boys are just so gross!" What can I say? She was a child!) The girls started arriving not long before dinner time; to make the party an extra-special treat, Aggie had ordered pizzas delivered, and by early evening our den was crawling with seven adorable little girls, laughing and gossiping and gobbling pizza as though they were starving. Aggie and I ate in the kitchen, by ourselves; and about an hour after the food was gone, and the empty pizza boxes were piled on the kitchen counter, Aggie checked to see if the kids had everything they needed, and left for the airport: she was attending a weekend seminar for her job as an administrative assistant, leaving me to "chaperone" the little girls as best I could. My idea of chaperoning was simply to go in our bedroom, stretch out on the bed, and watch television. I checked on the kids every half-hour or so, to make sure everything was going smoothly; but for the most part, I tried to keep out of their way and let them have a good time. Which they did, loud and late; but by ten-thirty or so, I walked into the den and told them it was time to get ready for bed. So they did, although it took them about an hour to do it, as they chattered and laughed and took turns in the bathroom. Eventually, having turned Lyn's bedroom upside-down, they all ended up in the den, bundled up in their sleeping bags on the floor, pretending to be ready for sleep. I kissed Lyn good-night, joked around with the kids for a moment, then returned to my own room. I intended to check on them in an hour, after they'd had time to whisper and giggle and talk themselves to sleep. But it had been a long day, and after taking my shower and putting on a bathrobe, I fell asleep in front of the television and didn't awaken until after midnight. Shaking the drowsiness from myself, I walked down the darkened hallway to the den, expecting to see the little girls curled up and sleeping happily. But that is not exactly what I saw, or heard. The den was a renovated garage, and the wall between it and the living room had once had a window, which had now been replaced by a wooden adjustable blind. By standing on tiptoe, one could look down into the den and not be observed; which is exactly what I did. But once I started looking through those wooden shutters, I was paralyzed, and could only watch. Lyn and her six little friends were not asleep, but were sprawled around the floor, on top of their sleeping bags, their eyes riveted to the large-screen television set. Earlier, they had watched videotapes of "The Little Mermaid" and "Toy Story," but now they had found something else. Specifically, one of the porno tapes that Aggie and I enjoyed watching together! I don't know how little Lyn had found it, but there it was, and the children's eyes were wide as they drank it all in. Obviously, Lyn thought that I was still asleep. She'd been planning this, I later learned, for a long time. "Ooooh, gross!" squealed the smallest of the children, an adorable, redheaded little girl, draped in one of her daddy's tee-shirts. "That's nasty!" "No it's not, Cindy," my little Lyn said. "It's just what grownups do. I think it's neat!" On the screen, Serena LaFoxx was on her hands and knees, slurping away at Ron O'Toole's mammoth prick. "No!" squeaked a freckled little brunette named Crystal. "I can't believe it!" A couple of the other kids chirped their agreement, but they all kept their eyes on the screen. Although the sound was turned completely down, so as not to wake Daddy, one could see O'Toole's famous member swell and darken and suddenly squirt all over the actress' face. "Oh, g-r-o-o-o-os-s!" squealed the children, who all started laughing. Then I heard Lyn say happily, "Well, Shirley seems to like it! Shirley, a solemn, auburn-haired little girl wearing a Flintstones nightshirt and blue cotton panties, was leaning against the sofa, not commenting on the strange movie, but rubbing her little hands over her crotch surreptitiously, hoping nobody would notice. When she heard Lyn call her name, she gasped and blushed furiously. "Oh! I was just - - " The other girls laughed uproariously. Little Shirley's eyes began to glisten with tears. One of the *older* girls, Noreen (who was all of eleven years old!), crawled quickly over to the embarrased child and gave her a hug. "It's okay, Shirley," she said, "we all do it, too!" A chorus of tiny voices joined in agreement. "That's right, Shirley," they said. "Don't worry!" "Well, Shirley, *I'm* not embarrased," said my darling little Lyn. Whereupon she lifted her little butt of the floor and quickly pulled off her pink rayon panties. She pulled up the hem of her pink flannel nightgown and spread her legs wide in front of her, then began to massage her own little cunt with her fingertips. "O-o-o-oh, Lyn!" gasped several of the girls; but within moments, they had all followed her example, and had shucked off their panties, exposing themselves to the entire group, and beginning to unashamedly masturbate. I was overwhelmed. What was I seeing? A circle jerk! With seven untouched, innocent little girls who, an hour before, had been content to inhale pizza and watch Disney tapes! On the television screen, Ron O'Toole had collapsed happily, and Shawnee Rivera had joined the scene, to start tonguing his cum out of Serena's blood-swollen twat. The little girls still oohed and aahhed at the bizarre sight, but now their comments were mingled with little groans and gasps of pleasure, as their fingers rubbed and probed their hairless preteen pussies in earnest. And, not surprisingly, I found my own hands slipping inside my bathrobe and slowly pumping my throbbing, bobbing cock. Little Shirley had forgotten her embarrassment now, and I saw her squeeze her eyes shut as she slipped one fingertip between her adorable, glistening pussy lips. Across the room, two of the children had gone a step farther. Mary Anne, a slightly chubby little nine-year old with long black pigtails, was lying on her sleeping bag, her arms wrapped around LaVonya, the sole black child, who was stretched out next to her, rubbing her dark little crotch into Mary Anne's thigh. They held on to each other's shoulders, not knowing what to do, but kissing each other's lips and grinding their lower bodies together. (I spat into my hand and began to pump away at myself, hoping that none of the little angels had noticed me.) As the action continued on the television, a little blonde named Alice stood up, glanced nervously around the room, and quickly pulled off her yellow Spice Girls baby-doll nightie, which she dropped to the floor. Blushing, she closed her big green eyes and slowly slipped one long, ten-year-old finger all the way into her pussy. She let out a little squeak and slowly began to rotate her skinny little hips, while her other hand came up and began to rub at her chest. Her breasts had only just begun to develop, but the tiny mounds were topped by dark-brown nipples that jutted out in obvious excitement. The other girls, still enthralled by the sight of Johnny *King* Kock violently sodomizing Mae East on the screen, rubbed and poked and squeezed at themselves, while little Mary Anne and LaVonya wrapped their legs tightly around one another, starting to roll slightly from side to side, their virginal little pussies mashed together. My hand continued its stroking while I cupped my balls in the other. I felt sweat begin to bead on my forhead as I watched my lover, my darling Lyn, pawing at herself furiously while her now-experienced pink tongue probed the quivering pussy of Hollie, the youngest of the girls, only seven, while holding her shaking little shoulders down on the carpet. Hollie's lacy blue pajama-top had been shoved up to her armpits, her Sailor Moon panties tossed carelessly aside, and little Lyn was kneading the child's flat, orange nipples as both girls moaned with pleasure. I was awash with waves of lust, feasting on the sight of the shameless, precious children, licking and probing and hugging one another with a mixture of innocence and passion. I wanted to scoop them up, one by one or two by two, starting with tiny Hollie, on to beautiful little ebony LaTonya, on to long-legged, coltish Alice; I wanted to fuck my wonderful Lyn (who, despite everything, I had not fucked; not yet); I wanted to devour little Mary Anne, to nibble and lick her soft baby fat roundness; I wanted to spread little Cindy's legs wide and push my hot, angry prick into her baby pussy; I wanted to - - - My heart stopped, then leapt in my heart like a trout in a summer stream, when I felt someone's warm breath on the back of my neck, and felt two warm, soft hands slap my hands down and grab my cock and balls. I nearly fainted; I nearly came. Who on earth - - - "Never mind, just keep watching your little show," my wife purred in my ear. Her arms closed around me as my bathrobe fell from my shoulders. "My flight was cancelled," she whispered, "and I thought the chaperone might need a chaperone, so I came home!" I heard her chuckle as she dropped to the floor on her knees behind me, and began pumping my cock, darting her tongue deep between the cheeks of my ass. My wife. Lyn's mother. And instead of being outraged by the fourth-grade orgy in the next room, she was aroused by it! I sighed as her tongue flicked my asshole, and one long fingernail probed gently at the hole of my dick; and as my wife began to ream me, I continued to watch the passionate little angels a few feet away, and I felt that I was (for just one moment) the luckiest man in the world. NEXT: LYN AT 12 (If you enjoyed this story, please write! Saynesberry@hushmail.com) -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+