Message-ID: <22487asstr$948939001@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: Saynesberry@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <9.1525fa4.25c0b98a@aol.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: {ASSM} Learning with Lyn IV: Lyn at Twelve (mf, NC, pedo,masturbation, Date: Wed, 26 Jan 2000 21:10:01 -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: gill-bates, IceAltar Learning with Lyn IV: Lyn at Twelve (mf, female masturbation, fisting, pedo, NC, anal) Carolyn had just turned twelve years old. Carolyn, the brightest light in my life. Carolyn, the only daughter of my beautiful, wandering wife Agatha. Carolyn, who I had helped raise and nurture and support since she was a toddler of three. Carolyn: my darling little Lyn. My lover since she was only seven. Lyn? Carolyn? To be honest, I didn't know which name was suitable for her as she approached her teens. The child was changing, as we all do with puberty, and the changes were not limited to glandular development or surging hormones. Her personality had changed, seemingly overnight, although of course it wasn't really overnight. I wasn't willing to acknowledge it at the time, but our family was disintegrating: the estrangement between Aggie and myself had grown and deepened, and although we still enjoyed each other's bodies, we did so far less frequently than ever before. Although my love for her had not diminished one bit, hers for me had died. Don't ask me why; I can't explain what I don't understand. Aggie was not unfaithful: that is, she never fucked another man while we were married. But *faithfulness* involves more than mere physical loyalty: it involves commitment and unity and common purpose. And Aggie had those things aside with utter disregard. By the time Lyn began her own personal crisis, Aggie was not spending so many evenings away from home: no, she was simply going to bed early - - like at seven-thirty or eight o'clock. She was healthy as a mare, but she would retire early each night simply to avoid being with me. And, since no almost-teenager would ever think of turning in so early, Lyn and I were left alone. Together. But alone. It was a troubled, confusing time. It all came into focus for me one night when I heard soft, muffled noises coming from the direction of our bedroom. I had been reading in the living room, and as I walked to the kitchen to get a drink, I thought I heard little moans coming from behind our bedroom door. (Oh, yes, Aggie closed herself off very tight when she retired; she didn't want to be disturbed by her husband *or* her child.) Glancing down the hall to Lyn's room, I saw that the girl was still awake, doing her homework or chatting on the phone as usual. I quietly turned the doorknob and stepped into my bedroom. I had heard correctly. There was my wife, sprawled on our king-sized waterbed, the sheets tossed aside, illuminated only by the lights cast by the streetlights outside. She was wearing only her flannel nightshirt, which was bunched up around her hips; her yellow silk panties had been wadded up and tossed to the floor. Lying on her back, her eyes squeezed shut, her legs bent and spread wide apart, she was plunging a giant, electric-blue *jelly* dildo in and out of herself, over and over again in a rhythm I knew very well, her small, slightly sagging breasts shaking with the violent motion. Her forehead and throat and shuddering naked legs were gleaming with sweat, and she was grunting and gasping as she punished her red-haired, burning pussy with the eighteen-inch sex toy. I was not shocked (our sexual adventures together had included the use of mysterious oils and objects on many occasions), but I was troubled. As enthusiastically as the woman was fucking herself, she didn't seem to be enjoying it. It almost seemed as though she were simply trying to prove something to herself; but I'm no psychologist. I don't know what alerted her to my presence in the room, but suddenly her eyes popped open and she stopped moving. She turned and looked at me with a look of hatred such as I had never seen. "What the fuck do you want?" she snarled, still gasping for breath, the dildo still deep inside her. In that crazy moment, I suddenly felt my eyes fill with tears. "I - - I want you, Aggie. I just - - I just want to sleep with you again." Despite the anger and hostility on her face, she was my Aggie, and my heart ached for her. Her eyes gleamed, but not with tears. "Oh, kiss my ass," she spat. "I don't need you. I've got all I need right here. Go sleep with somebody else. As a matter of fact, I don't give a fuck *who* you sleep with, as long as it's not me!" Then, with a perfectly diabolical smile, she licked her lips and began slowly pushing the monster dildo even farther into herself. She closed her eyes tight again, threw back her head, and growled, "Oh, yeah! Fuck! That's so fucking good! Oh! Yeah!" I whirled out of the room and slammed the door behind me. Returning to the living room, but unable to sit down, my heart breaking, I stood at the front window and clasped my hands behind me. For at least an hour, I stood there and watched the slow neighborhood traffic, and tried to figure out what had gone wrong with the woman I adored. Finally I was stirred from my reverie by the sound of the toilet flushing in Lyn's bathroom. She must be getting ready to go to sleep, I thought to myself. My mind flashed back to the many times, years before, when precious little Lyn, age seven or eight or nine, would come to my bedroom for her *goodnight kiss,* and we would end up entwined in our strange, glorious passion. But that had changed: for as puberty began to approach, my little Lyn, just like her Mother, had begun to withdraw from me. This was natural, I told myself; she's confused and ashamed and uncertain of the changes that are washing over her own body, and she's afraid to share them with anyone. But that didn't make it any easier to bear. In recent months, Lyn had become sarcastic, bitter, and rebellious; but, again, I attributed it to the mysterious pressures of puberty. Now she was twelve years old, her body slowly morphing from that of a baby-fat-laden little cherub to that of a coltish, gangly teen. But she was still my Lyn, my blonde-haired, sexy Lyn. So far, her *rebellion* had gone no further than sneaking an occasional cigarette and using four-letter-words in practically every sentence. But she hadn't gotten into dope, and she was still a virgin: her pediatrician had confirmed that after her last annual physical. I can't really account for my actions that night. I just know that I was devastated by Aggie's furious rejection, desperate for acceptance from *someone,* and suddenly obsessed with the thought of my darling Lyn, mired in her own loneliness and doubt. We were two of a kind; we had always been. I turned from the picture window and walked down the hall to the child's bedroom. She was lying on her side in her new double bed, covered only by a sheet, wearing (of all things!) one of her Mother's cotton nightgowns. (Lyn was already an inch taller than her Mom's 5'2", and still growing.) Her long, fluffy blonde hair pooled on her pillow, glowing in the reflection of the streetlamp outide. Thinking she was asleep already, yearning for the former days, I very gently sat down on the edge of her bed, leaned over, and gave her the lightest of kisses on her smooth, warm cheek. But she was not asleep. "Sounds like you had a bad time with the bitch, huh?" she muttered. I was not surprised at her choice of words, nor could I disagree. "No, honey," I responded, "things are pretty bad right now." She gave a little snort and glanced over her shoulder at me. "Was she having fun with that stupid rubber dick of hers?" I sighed. What could I say? "I didn't know you knew about those things, Lyn," I replied softly. "Oh, God!" she chuckled. "You still think I'm a little girl!" She rolled over on her back to face me, and looked deeply into my eyes. What did she see there? What did she *want* to see there? I leaned over and softly kissed her on the mouth. She turned her head and looked away. "Don't touch me!" she said. Any other night, I would have respected her privacy and simply left the room. But not tonight. Sometimes, when your heart is shattered, your mind becomes very fragile, too. Something snapped inside me. I reached over and took her face in my hand and forced her to look at me. Leaning over once more, I kissed her again, but this time I was not so gentle. Holding her chin in my hand, my tongue probed between her unwilling lips, searching for hers. She reached out with both hands and pushed at my shoulders. Her eyes were suddenly full of tears. "Don't touch me, Goddammit!" Was this my little Lyn? Yes. Of course she was. And although she was no longer little, she would always be my Lyn .... I stood up from the bed and began to unbutton my shirt. As I started to shuck it off, she gasped, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I didn't reply, but quickly unzipped my pants and let them drop to the floor. As usual during the summer, I wasn't wearing underwear. In a moment I was naked, my body silhouetted by the streetlamp, my intentions quite obvious. "D-dad!" Lyn cried. "Go away! I'm n-not ready for this! Please!" I quickly sat down again on the bed, and grabbed the sheet that she was clutching to her chin. I swept it to the floor, revealing her long, preteen body wrapped in the silly nightshirt she had inherited from her Mother. "Lyn, honey," I said throatily, "I love you. I've always loved you. I've never, ever hurt you. But don't say you're not ready. Remember when you were just seven or eight, and you came to me and fucked me with your fist? That night you said I was gonna have to fuck *you* in return! But I didn't, honey, because you were too little to know what you were talking about. But Lyn, you're not too little any more." I lay down on the bed and began pulling at the neck of her nightshirt. "Dad, no!" she cried. But she didn't scream, and she hardly struggled. I ripped the nightshirt down the middle and pulled it apart, exposing her beautiful young body, now clad only in a pair of blue cotton panties. Her breasts had barely started to develop, but there was a discernible swell to her chest, the two soft little mounds topped with dime-sized, peach-colored nipples. I leaned over and took on of them in my mouth, gently biting and tugging and then greedily sucking. She grabbed my shoulders and tried to push me off. "No, Dad! I don't want it! Stop!" "Lyn," I mumbled, my saliva glistening and running down her side, "You've wanted it ever since you were seven years old." Which, of course, she had. I began to suck at the other nipple, not even bothering to remove her hands from my shoulders, enchanted by the soft, quivering little mound with its hard little nipple, which was involuntarily becoming erect. "I love you, Lyn," I repeated. I ran one hand down across her flat, firm tummy and, forcing it between her clenched thighs, cupped her warm young sex , still covered in blue cotton. I noticed that a small spot of moisture had begun to seep through the panties. Moving from her breast, I shoved my tongue deeply into her mouth. "Mmmffff!' she squealed, trying to pull away. But I wrapped my fingers in her fine blonde hair and held her in place. With my other hand, I hooked the waistband of her panties and, with one movement, ripped them off. Now she was naked. I had not seen her this way in over a year. For the first time, her pubic mound was covered with a little patch of blonde, curly hair, soft as goosedown; her little-girl slit had developed into a woman's pussy, the lips pink and pouting and glistening with slickness. Probing deeper in her mouth with my tongue, holding her head fast by her hair, I slipped my index finger between her cunt lips, feeling her tight, steaming flesh tugging and grabbing at me. I groaned slightly and shoved the finger in as far as it would go; then, while she wiggled and writhed and tried to escape, I slipped in another finger, then a third. Her body stiffened, and she squealed helplessly as my fingers tore away her virginity. Her wetness was now mixed with a small trickle of blood. I broke our violent kiss and looked into her eyes. "Oh, Daddy," she whined, tears rolling down her face. "Don't fuck me, please don't, oh God, you hurt me so bad...." I pulled out my bloody fingers and took her face in both hands, gently, but firmly. "Lyn, baby," I murmured. "Please don't worry. I'm not going to make you pregnant. And it won't hurt for very long." As I spoke, I returned my hand to her pussy, easily slipping four fingers in this time. I began to sweep the fingers in circles inside her, feeling her hard, taut cervix at my fingertips, feeling her wetness build and build. Giving her one last kiss, I slid down the bed and pulled her thighs wide apart. Pulling out my fingers, I bent and took her trembling, steaming sex in my mouth, lapping at her hard little clit, sliding my tongue in as far as it would go, her golden pubic hair ruffled by the breath coming from my nose. As I lapped and sucked, I allowed my saliva to flow freely, until finally she was inundated by our combined juices. I moved down and slowly licked the little expanse of skin between her pussy and her asshole, then returned to her clit. Her legs were shaking violently and her hands, clutching at my hair, pushed helplessly at me. "D-dad!!! D-dad!!!" she stammered. I reached up and parted her lips with my fingers once again. I tickled the newly formed womanflesh, teasing her clit and tugging at the lips, which by now were swollen and red. I ran my tongue over her groin and her belly, and sucked her perfect little navel into my mouth, nibbling at it with my teeth. As she squealed again, I wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, and slowly, deliberately, pushed my entire hand into her twitching young pussy. "Oh! D-dad! Aaaaggghhh! Stop! Oh, no!" She shook violently, but I held her still, the soft flesh of her virgin cunt clutching and grabbing at my hand. Her pussy lips were stretched tight; she almost looked like a little girl again. I began to move my hand back and forth, halfway out then even farther back in, until I was buried up to the wrist in her hot, convulsing young sex. Still pumping at her with my fist, I moved up and shoved my tongue in her mouth again. This time she did not fight me, but merely squeezed her eyes shut and accepted it. My tongue was nearly at her throat; only when she began to gag did I pull it out. "Still want me to fuck you, little Lyn?" I gasped. "Nnnnnnooo.....ohhhh, Daddy....Daddy, don't fuck me, don't fuck me, ohhh, Daddy, pleeeeaaassse don't....oh, Daddy, fuck me!" For the first time, as my hand pistoned inside her, she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me close. "I will, honey," I breathed in her ear. "Daddy will fuck his little girl....right now!" I pulled my hand out of her with a *pop!* and grasped her soft, tapered waist between both hands. Sitting up, I flipped her over on her stomach and pressed her down onto the mattress. I pulled her slick, trembling thighs wide again, and rained kisses on her warm, round, almost-woman buttocks. She gasped. "What? Are you -- are you gonna fuck me backwards, D-daddy?" "No, little girl," I answered. "I'm gonna fuck you like you fucked me." Without another word, I moved over on top of her, grabbing the nape of her neck in my teeth, and spread her ass-cheeks wide. Her winking pink asshole was covered with our combined juices. I moved up and positioned my raging, angry cock at the entrance, then slowly began to push myself into her ass. "Oh, Daddy, it hhuuurrrts," she wailed. Pushing in farther, a centimeter at a time, her tight little rectum clenching and fighting against my intruding cock, I whispered in her ear, "I know how it feels, baby: remember?" As she began to wail again, I pushed her face into the pillow to muffle the noise, and, with one deep thrust, buried myself in her ass, all the way to the hilt. I must admit that her squeals and muffled cries aroused me even further, and I began to slide in and out, back and forth, each thrust a bit easier now, her little pink asshole stretched wide and bleeding slightly. I thrust and thrust and thrust, listening to her muffled groans, shoving my tongue into her ear, both of us covered now in sweat. Then I abruptly pulled out, and flipped her over on her back again, facing me. She looked up at me with terror in her eyes, but as the seconds passed, her eyes became bright with pleasure. She was gasping now, heaving deep, rhythmic breaths, even drooling slightly from the corner of her mouth. I positioned my dick at the entrance of her pussy and began to push. Her gaping, wide asshole twitched against my balls. "Oh, Daddy! she squealed. "Now you're fucking me! Oh! Daddy! Tell me I'm your baby Lyn!" My shaft was buried in her steaming pussy now, and I ground my pubic bone against her clit. She locked her legs around me like a whore and gasped. Every muscle in her body suddenly contracted, and I felt her asshole flutter as her cunt clenched my dick like a glove, and she began to roll her head back and forth on the pillow, growling and gasping as she came, her juices spurting, washing out over my balls, her asshole, and the mattress beneath. She clutched at me frantically. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh fuck Daddy, fuck fuck fuck, I came I came oh Daddy!" I jerked my cock out of her and pushed her thighs down from where they were wrapped around my waist, Sliding up over her sweating, rock-hard torso, I sat of her perfect little tits and pointed the head of my prick at her face; then I began to spurt and squirt and shoot my cum into her eyes, over her nose, her mouth, her chin, her throat, until her golden blonde hair was dripping with the stuff. The girl squeezed her eyes shut and licked the stuff from around her mouth, gulping it down. Moaning and trembling and muttering for more. As my orgasm subsided, I slipped down and lay atop my darling Lyn, my once-again lover, now my child-woman Lyn, and brushed against her nipples with my own. I leaned over and thrust my tongue into one ear, tasting my own juices, as I muttered, "I do love you, little girl, my little baby Lyn." And as we lay there, glorying in our love, all passion spent, I could hear her Mother's words resounding in my mind: "I don't care *who* you sleep with, as long as it's not me!" Okay, Aggie. But little Lyn cared. And now, in my own mind at least, the beautiful baby teen was my very own child bride. We lay there together all night, and when the dawn began to break, and we fucked for perhaps the fifth time, I was forced to whisper in Lyn's ear: "Okay, honey. You'd better get ready for school. Have you finished your project for the Science Fair?" And she giggled, and tickled my asshole with a fingertip, and we comforted one another with our love. -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+