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From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat)
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Subject: {ASSM} Dear Agent Stanton (mf teen oral)  
Date: Wed, 26 Jul 2000 22:10:07 -0400
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This new story is called "Dear Agent Stanton".
Despite this sounding a lot like a previous title
(that would be "Commanding Agent Stanton" for those
of you putting together the Trivial Pursuit - Prurient
Edition) this story is very different from past efforts.

It recounts a letter written to Agent Stanton (hence the 
catchy title) by a teenage girl who has gotten mixed up
with a man she met online. Our hero agents are involved
only in a name-dropped way. Like I said, it's different.
That means it's doubly important that you let me know what 
you think. Write to me at jimmy@jimmy-hat.com

Now that I've put this story out there, I can work on other
things. Like my tan, and these epic-length Robert Jordan
books. Luckily I can do those at the same time.

Onto the warning, and the story:

This work contains graphic depictions of sex acts.
Please do not continue if this makes you uncomfortable,
or violates laws in your part of the world.

This story is Copyright 2000 by Jimmy Hat (jimmy@jimmy-hat.com)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Agent Stanton, 

My name is Tiffany Ross, and I read an article about some fucking
pervert that you arrested recently. I'm sorry to use that kind of
language, but I just can't help myself. See, I had this run in
with this guy, and it's bugging me, and I need to tell someone
about it. 

I met him on IRC - that's this chat thing on the Internet. Sorry
if you know that already, but I know you're older, and some
people are clueless about this sort of thing. I saw your picture,
though, and you look pretty and kinda hip, so maybe you know.
Anyway I met him on IRC talking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Not important. 

What is important is this guy, Scott, starts coming onto me. OK,
no big deal, just another IRC loser, right? Except he's got this
vibe, like he knows how you want to be treated. And he's older,
but he never really *tells* you that he's older. You get me?
Here's an example. It must have been Buffy we were talking about
because some guy other mentioned the Rolling Stone cover where
she's dressed in those red leather boots and has that whole
bondage kind of outfit on. You know the one, right? So this other
guy starts going on about how hot she looked and if he was on the
set he would be like all over her, and Scott totally shuts him up
by writing, "Why do adolescent boys think they could handle such
a confident, demanding woman when they have such trouble dealing
with the neophyte girls all around them?" 

This other guy, who was using some name like D-zeaze or some
cheesy tag like that starts going off about all the girls he
gets, but it was all over. Scott slammed him pretty good, and the
feeding frenzy was on. No one believed a thing the guy said after
that. He probably logged in as some other name and made fun of
D-zeaze just to join in on the fun. 

By the way, I know that quote by heart because I printed it out
in this big font and then pasted it up on my locker next to that
same magazine cover of you-know-who. All my girlfriends love it,
especially my best friend Shannon. It also intimidates the guys a
lot, just like it did on the IRC. First of all they see me with
this babe magazine cover in my locker and they must be thinking
I'm like a lesbian or something. Whatever. They probably like the
idea, anyway. But that quote really blows them away. It would
make a good quote for the yearbook, don't you think? 

Well, maybe I would have used it, but this guy Scott said it and
he's turned out to be a total pervert. Which is why I'm writing
to you, because I think he's totally evil. But you won't believe
me if I don't tell you the rest of the story. 

So Scott shuts D-zeaze down, and everyone starts jumping all over
the poor loser, and I send Scott this private message. I tell him
how right he is. He says it's always been that way, that girls
mature faster than guys and that the boys just can't handle it
sometimes. That's it. He doesn't come on to me, or anything, but
there's something there, you know? Like he wants me to know that
since he says that he must consider me an adult too. 

I wasn't thinking that way at the time, I just thought he was
really cool and that it felt kinda neat to find someone to talk
to about this stuff. I mean Shannon is great and all that, but
all she ever wants to do is find some guys and do it, or talk
about who is doing it with someone else. Like there's all this
sex going on, and she wants to know who did the head cheerleader
in the bottom of the east stairwell, but she doesn't really want
to talk about it. It doesn't mean anything to her, you know? 

But this guy Scott was different. He understood. The next week I
bump into him on a different IRC channel, and I sent him a
private message. I told him how right he was, and how all these
guys, even the seniors, want you to do stuff like blow them, but
then they get all worked up when you do it right. "Where did you
learn to suck dick like that?" they ask, all offended, like
they're these big experts on getting sucked off and that's cool,
but you'd have to be this total slut to know anything about it. 

I told Scott that and he didn't make any crude remarks, he just
talks about double standards and all that. Not lecturing, just
talking. He starts talking about stuff like the "madonna-whore
complex", and it's weird, because that sounds like some sort of
MTV weekend to me, but I know he means something else. And he
wasn't making feel dumb, or trying to impress me, or anything, he
was just talking. It was strange, because I was only guessing
what he was talking about but he made me feel smart. It was like
he expected me to know that stuff. 

But I don't know what to write back to him because a lot of this
is over my head. Then he mentions how men are obsessed with
breasts, and how his personal theory is that they do that because
they don't really have the courage to look women in they eye. I
thought that was funny, but finally I had something to say,
because I thought he was wrong. I said I thought it was more of
society's obsession. I told him that all these guys constantly
want to fuck my tits or cum over them. Like that's no big deal,
I'd much rather have them cum on my tits than my face, but it
does seem obsessive. Anyhow it doesn't seem to have anything to
do with not making eye contact. If they didn't want to make eye
contact they would cum on my ass or something. 

(I'm sorry, Agent Stanton, I don't mean to be so graphic, but I
need to tell you the whole story. And I'm not done yet.) 

Anyway, I said all that, and I was getting kind of horny because
I'm thinking about all this stuff. After all, I do like sex, I
don't really mind these guys obsessed with my tits, it's just
that it makes them so predictable. I tell him that, and he's
still cool about it. He talks about being comfortable with one's
body and in touch with your sexuality and all that. 

Then I said, "Well, that's good 'cause I touch myself all the
time" and all he says back is something like "that's to be
expected at your age". When I think about it now that wasn't that
bad, but I got kind of pissed off at the time. This was after I
had put the Buffy picture and the quote up in my locker, and I
was starting to like it when people got shocked by stuff I said.
But nothing I said ever shocked Scott. 

So I turned it up a bit. "Maybe I'm touching myself right now," I
said. What does he say? "Maybe you're not alone." Can you believe
it? No pause, no comment, nothing, and all of a sudden I'm the
perv because instead of him telling me he was thinking of me
fingering myself or something like that, I'm thinking about him
jerking off. He turned it all around, see? But, like, he didn't
say anything. Just "maybe". 

Now I'm all kind of hot thinking about him jerking off in between
typing and I feel myself getting all wet. Do you mind if I say
cunt? Shannon can't stand the word, but that's how I feel about
pussy. You might as well call it a fluffy or something. I think
people use that word when they're afraid of it. You know, like
the guys at school always talking about getting some pussy. Pussy
magnet they say, then they call us cunt when they're mad. Well,
if cunt is what scares them, I'm calling it a cunt. And they'll
only get near my pussy when they can face up to my cunt. 

God, I sound like such a retard. Where was I? 

Right, Scott and the cybersex stuff. So I had no idea that's
where this was all going, but sure enough, I slid a finger down
my pants and I was just drenched. My lips were totally wet and
open and my clit is swollen and itchy like a mosquito bite. I
didn't even circle it, I just started rubbing myself real hard.
It felt great, and I was totally into it. 

Scott asked me a question and I didn't even notice. The next
thing I see on the screen is in caps, "HELLO?" I typed "sorry"
with one hand and hit return. He must have noticed how long it
took 'cause then he asked what I was doing. So I told him.
Nothing else surprised him, so why not? 

Guess what he asks after I tell him? "Should I go?" For real! I
was like, no, stay, talk to me. Real smooth, huh? He gets me to
start fucking myself and then I ask him to talk to me about it. 

He got into it after that, though. He started telling me what to
do. He had me take off my clothes (he didn't ask if I was wearing
any, he just guessed) and then gave me directions. He didn't say
he wished he was there or anything or ask me things, he just
suggested that I fondle my breasts, or suck my fingers, or slide
a finger inside my cunt. 

The only thing he asked was if the chair I was using had arms. I
said yes and he goes, "Hook your legs over them." Now I'm like
this total slut with my cunt in the air and he just keeps giving
orders. Rub your clit, suck on two fingers, slide the two fingers
inside. He even told me to stick a finger in my ass. I did it
though. I did it all. For all he knew I left to microwave some
popcorn, or had a room full of friends sitting around laughing at
his suggestions. But he kept on talking. 

When I came, it was like the best cum ever. Yeah, I know I'm only
a teenager, but I think I can tell by now when it's good or not.
That was great. I told him and he just made a little smiley, the
winking kind, you know? Like this ;) Then he signed off. 

I didn't see him on IRC for like a week, but when I did, we wound
up doing the same thing. I tried to talk dirty to him to get him
off, but he said that I had done enough already. That happened a
couple more times. I wind up naked with sticky fingers and I can
only guess that he's the same way. 

Finally I suggest we get together. Like for coffee, or something. 

"Why do you want to do that?" he says. 

"So I can see what you look like," I said. 

He was just like, "Oh, I see." 

I asked, "Don't you want to see what I look like?" 

He writes, "Do you want me to know that?" Duh! 

Then Scott goes, "I have a better idea." And then he sets up this
whole secret agent operation. He tells me about this place in
some park nearby with a hollow tree. We called it the drop spot
and everything. It was great. I asked him what he was leaving for
me. 

"You'll figure it out," he said. "It's like a question. You give
me the answer in the same spot in a week." 

I wore a little spy outfit for when I went to pick it up. Dark
glasses, boots, and a trench coat I borrowed from Shannon. I told
her I had some interview I wanted to look good for. It was true,
in a way. When I got to the spot I found a empty bottle of vodka.
I thought maybe he left a message in a bottle, but after I moved
it I saw the brown paper bag. 

In the bag was a black thong kind of thing in vinyl or something,
a baby doll t-shirt with "Prom Queen" printed on it, and one of
those disposable cameras. 

I wrote him to ask what he wanted, but he didn't answer. Finally
I sent him a message that said I didn't get it and wasn't going
to do anything. He wrote back, "Then I guess that's your answer."
It was so final. 

Then I got a little nervous. What was the big deal, a few
pictures is all he wanted right? I asked him, "You aren't going
to take the film to Wal-Mart or anything?" 

"I'll take care of that myself," Scott wrote back. 

Really, I have no idea what he expected, but I was going to need
someone to take the pictures. I thought about Shannon, but she
would freak, and then she would talk, and I didn't want to go
around school being called Ms. February or anything like that. 

Instead I thought of this guy Bill. He's kind of cute. I think
he'll look like your partner Maytag when he grows up. I saw him
in the picture when you arrested that pervert. By the way, I
guess you're going to let him read this. That's fine, I know it's
your job and all. But don't let him freak because I'm acting like
this total ho. Don't forget who the real sicko is, who's the one
getting off on some teenage girl's sex life. 

Anyway, this girl Kerry said she did it with Bill but I never
heard anything about it from anyone else. I thought maybe he
could keep his mouth shut. I asked Bill if he could help me with
this project after school. He asked what it was, but when I said
it was just a little extra credit he was cool. 

I skipped the school newspaper meeting and Bill drove me back to
my house. My sister was at soccer practice, so it was just the
two of us. I told him to get something for us to drink and then I
rushed to my room to change. I had the bag hidden and I was
terrified Mom would find it. I put the underwear on. It looked
hot. It was a thong, but almost as narrow in the front, too. I
shaved so I wouldn't look silly with it on. Then I threw on the
shirt and headed downstairs with the camera in the bag. 

I took a sip of Dr. Pepper and said, "C'mon, let's go
downstairs." We took the drinks with us to the basement. 

When we got there, I asked. "Kerry said you might be able to help
me." 

"Really?" Bill put on this dumb routine. That's when I knew he
would keep his mouth shut. I took out the camera and told him I
wanted him to take a few pictures of me. He snapped a few shots
of me smiling. He even made a few jokes. It was fun. Then I
started thinking about the shiny black underwear and I got a
little nervous. 

I unsnapped my jeans and pulled down the zipper. Bill didn't make
any stupid comment. In fact he looked really surprised. That made
me feel better, because I knew what was going on and Bill was
clueless. 

"Stop drooling and keep taking pictures," I said. I turned around
and pulled down the pants, bending over to show him my ass. It
was really quiet and I could hear Bill breathing and the sound
the camera made when he advanced the film. 

I shook my ass a little bit and heard him taking pictures but he
wasn't saying anything. "You still alive, Bill?" I asked. I
turned back around and saw that he was alive, and so was the
bulge in his khakis. I got a little inspired then and decided to
thank Bill for his help and give Scott a real show at the same
time. I unzipped his pants and started to blow him. Bill moaned a
lot. 

I thought about pulling the vinyl underwear aside and letting him
fuck me a little, but I could tell he was going to cum soon. I
threw off the "Prom Queen" and stroked him until he came over my
tits. I wasn't going to let him cum on my face, no matter how
grateful I was. 

We had a great roll of film. I got cleaned up and Bill was
getting ready to go when he asked what I planned to do with the
camera. I told him I could take care of it, and he warned me not
to leave it where just anybody could get it. 

Which, of course, is exactly what I did with it. I left it in
that goddamn tree where just about anybody could find it. I put
the underwear in there too. Not because I thought Scott might
like to be a pervert about it, but because I couldn't keep those
at home. Mom would shit if she found those. I kept the "Prom
Queen" shirt, though, that was cool. 

That night I wanted to hear from Scott so I could get off, but he
was nowhere to be found. I wound up using the pulse mode on the
shower to fuck myself instead. I didn't hear from Scott for a
couple of days and that made me real nervous. What if someone
else found those pictures? 

Finally, I bumped into him on IRC. I sent him a private message
saying, "Hey, what's up?" 

He gave me some bullshit about being real busy and all that. I
was like, cut the shit, did you get the camera? He said yeah, he
did, and that the pictures looked great and all that. But he was
totally blowing me off. 

"What are you trying to say?" I asked him at one point. "Don't
you want to meet me?" 

He said there was a misunderstanding about my age. How could he
misunderstand? 

"What are you talking about? You knew I was a teenager." 

Then, you're not going to believe this, he goes, "Well, I thought
you were a little bit younger. In the pictures you look
seventeen. At least." 

But I told him that before. He thought I was lying. Turns out the
Elektra complex is from some Greek mythology and has nothing to
do with Dennis Rodman. He said that was basic high school stuff
and that when I didn't know it he thought I was lying about my
age to appear older. 

So that creep gets me all worked up to see him, I'm totally
psyched for it, and then he drops me because I'm not young
enough. What kind of guy acts like that? 

So that's why I'm telling you this. The guy is obviously a sick
perv and you should bust him like you did that other guy. If you
need any more info, just let me know. 

- Tiffany 

END
----------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed that, and I'd love to hear your comments.
There is an anonymous e-mail form (and more stories) at 
http://www.jimmy-hat.com , or you can mail me 
directly at jimmy@jimmy-hat.com

Anyone wishing to charge fees for access to this material, 
through any media or publication, must receive the written
permission of Jimmy Hat.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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