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Message-ID: <31864asstr$997089003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Karen Souleman" <raven_soule@c4.com>
Subject: {ASSM} NEW - Karen 8 -  Little Rich girl (MF, Mf, Ff, con, inc, , Pedo)
Date: Mon,  6 Aug 2001 05:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Karen 8 - little rich girl.txt" begin>

KAREN 7 - POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL (MF, Ff, fg, anal)

We sat around the table in shock.  A pile of documents lay between 
us.  Occasionally one would be picked up and looked at by one of us.  
Looking without seeing.  Reading without comprehending.  The shock 
was still too great for us.  We had just returned from my 
appointment with Miss Jamerson, the solicitor handling my mothers 
will.

The day had started normally, or what passed for normal in our 
family.  Breakfast was enjoyed by Rae, Leslie and me, while Paul and 
Gail were making love in the hall, well - they couldn't wait until 
they got upstairs, randy little pigs.  

When they had finished, Leslie and Rae collected the dishes and put 
them into the machine, while I helped cleanup in the hall.  Paul 
always shot so much semen into his ladies that it would have been 
all over the floor had I not volunteered to lick Gail clean.  Giving 
her yet another orgasm before breakfast - I think that woman's being 
spoiled. 

Our family life is based upon love, trust, and openness.  Rae and 
Leslie often watch the lovemaking, whoever is involved, and don't 
think it's unusual.  People, who love each other, make love to each 
other.  That's the way it should be.  Gail, Paul, and I love each 
other.  We will make love to each other separately or together, 
while Leslie will only join with me.  After her life at Bloody 
Beeches, it is a wonder she will lie with anyone.  Rae has not yet 
decided to join us.  When she does, she will be treated with the 
love and respect that we all give to one another.

Gail dressed Leslie and Rae, while Paul returned the favour for me, 
licking and nibbling me into a crashing climax.  No reason really, 
he wanted to, I wanted to, so we did.  It was great!

Paul and I then showered and dressed while Gail, Rae, and Leslie 
complained loudly about randy sods that couldn't keep up.  We 
refrained from beating them to a pulp and Paul drove us all to town.  
We were to meet Miss Jamerson.  She was to tell us about my mother's 
estate.

I didn't expect this to take long, considering my mother and I had 
lived in virtual poverty for as long as I could remember, existing 
on state benefits and handouts, charity shop clothes and free school 
meals.  I had had the whole nine yards worth of poverty.  Nor did I 
expect my situation to change very much either.

Paul drove us through town (ignoring our comments about running over 
traffic wardens) until we entered the High Street.  Then we all 
started looking for the solicitor's office.  Paul found the place 
and noticed a large sign, 'RESERVED - Ms SOULEMAN' by a parking 
space immediately outside the office door.

"I'm not sure I like this," Paul said as he parked the car in the 
more than adequate, space.  We got out of the car and became the 
family perfect (Stepford Wives eat your hearts out).  Paul led us 
into the office where the staff treated Gail like royalty.  She was 
shown to the solicitor's office and offered tea, while we others 
tagged along, just for the ride.  

A middle-aged woman introduced herself as Miss Jameson and began: 
"Well Miss Souleman," she said to Gail.

"She's Miss Souleman," Gail said, pointing to me as I sat in a back 
corner of the room.

Miss Jamerson blanched, noticeably paling at the mistake.  She 
hurriedly ushered me to the chair Gail had been occupying.  I don't 
think that she actually kicked Gail out of that chair, but it wasn't 
by much.  When seated, I was obviously the centre of attention.

"Well Miss Souleman," she said smiling at me.  I hate insincerity: 
she oozed it.  "I have finished tidying up your parents' estate, 
though your father was a very tidy and thoughtful man."  Another 
crocodile smile.  

"You have the sum of four million, seven hundred thousand, four 
hundred and eighteen pounds, twenty-seven pence in cash in the bank.  
There are also shares in British companies worth approximately 3 
million pounds."  

There was obvious pride in the fact that these shares were British.  
Long live the Empire!  

"The problem has been with your American shares."  

She must have practised that expression by sucking lemons.  

"You have half a million shares in APPLE, which, apparently, make 
mackintoshes.  Though WHAT the Americans know about making raincoats 
is beyond me.  I've found that Burburry is fine if you want off-the-
peg clothes, but for REAL quality, Gorton and Watts of Edinburgh are 
the best."  

She smiled again, proud in her knowledge of the international 
raincoat industry.  Even I knew what Apple made.  

"These shares are worth, at today's exchange rate, about eighteen 
million pounds."  THAT she liked.  "These shares have been lodged 
with your bankers, Barclloyd's, in the Corn Market."  She smiled 
again.

"Oh shit!" said Paul quietly.

The period of silence stretched on.

Miss Jamerson leaned a little closer.  

"Can I get you a glass of water?", she asked.  I nodded dumbly.  
While she was out of the room, I turned to Paul.

"She's joking isn't she?"  I asked.  This was too much. 

"Oh no, my dear.  I never joke about money."  Miss Jamerson said, 
overhearing my remark as she returned.  

Looking at her, I could believe it.  She gave me the glass of water; 
I managed to drink some, though my shaking hands spilt most of it.

Miss Jamerson sat down again, picked up her papers, and continued:  
"The principal and the shares are to be held in trust until your 
thirtieth birthday, 13th February 2002.  You will be entitled to the 
interest from the cash deposits and one half of the income from the 
shares until that date."  She looked up and smiled again.  "On 
current interest rates and dividend forecasts that should give you 
an income of about  84,000." 

" 84,000 pounds a year?"  I gasped horrified.  I had never actually 
held more than the forty pounds that Gail had given me on holiday.

"Oh no, my dear," Miss Jamerson looked shocked.  " 84,000 per 
calendar month."  

This time her smile was wide.  I also noticed that her nipples were 
hard beneath her jacket and blouse.  I knew just what turned Miss 
Jamerson on. 

When we left Paul walked into a door.  Gail shook Miss Jamerson's 
hand and said, "Fuck me," in a quiet voice.  Nobody noticed my wet 
skirt; nobody said anything about Rae and Leslie taking the large 
notebook which they had drawn in.  I'm sure it would turn up on my 
bill.

We walked toward the local public car park, passing through Corn 
Market Square on our way.  We all stared at the huge edifice that 
was Barclloyd's Bank.  The building towered over the square, its very 
bulk screaming its solidarity and presence. 

"Do you want to go in?"  Paul asked. 

I looked at the bank, terrified by its imposing presence.  "Yes," I 
managed to say after a moment.

We entered the cool, dark interior of the bank.  In the cathedral 
atmosphere, people quietly scurried behind the waist-high wall.  We 
looked around us.  

"Can I help you?" said a warm, gentle voice, though the young 
woman's demeanour loudly added, 'though I doubt you can afford my 
help'.

"Y yes p p please,"  I stammered.  "I would like to get some money."

Smiling she bend toward me and asked, "And how much were you 
thinking of withdrawing, Miss?"

"F f five thousand pounds," I replied.  She almost laughed.

"Of course, Miss . . . ?"  The question hung in the air.

"Miss Souleman," I answered.  

The effect was immediate.

"Of course Miss Souleman.  Miss Jamerson telephoned that you may be 
on your way."  She smiled.  "Please come this way and take a seat 
while I arrange for your cash.  How would you like the money?  Will 
Twenties do?  Would you like a cup of tea while you're here?  I'm 
afraid I'll have to ask one of your guardians to sign for you 
though."

"Er. . . Yes.  No.  Thank you."  I replied, hopefully in the correct 
places.  We sat behind the separating wall.  The woman had 
disappeared to do whatever it is you do when you're arranging for a 
five-thousand-pound withdrawal.  A beaming man came to us and shook 
Paul and Gail's hands.  He was the manager and seemed most pleased 
to see us.  All too soon we walked out into Corn Market Square and 
the bright winter sunshine.

"What would you like to buy?" asked Gail.  She nodded to an 
expensive clothes shop a few yards away.  

"A banana."  I replied.

"A BANANA!" gasped Paul, laughing.

"Yes," I said, "a banana.  I've never had one.  As long as I can 
remember, I've wanted a banana.  Mum always said that we couldn't 
afford them.  I promised myself that if I was ever rich I would buy 
everyone bananas."  I looked at them they were quiet now.  I knew 
Gail understood.  

Paul looked around and quickly found a grocer's stall.  I stood in 
front of the stall waiting until the grocer finished serving the 
woman beside me.

"And what can I get for a lovely girl like you then, me-dear?"  His 
cheery voice, after the insincerity and grasping so evident in the 
solicitors and the bank, was refreshing.

"I'd like a bunch of bananas, please."  At last, I was DOING it.  I 
was buying bananas.  

If you have had a single sausage as your Christmas dinner, then dry bread 
for Christmas tea; if you've missed a meal because the cupboard was 
bare - and besides you'd had a school dinner anyway.  If bread with marge 
AND jam was a special treat for you, then you will know what I felt just 
then, for you no explanation will be necessary.  If not, well, no 
explanation will be possible.

I took a twenty-pound note from my purse.  "I'm afraid it's the 
smallest I've got," I told the grocer.

"As long as it's the same size as all the others, then it's okay by 
me."  He laughed, handing me my bananas in a brown paper bag and 
nineteen-pounds-fifty-pence change.  The change filled my small 
purse.  Carefully I put it away then took great pleasure in handing 
out the bananas.  Gail, Paul, Leslie, and Rae each took one, peeled 
them  and started eating.  Obviously enjoying their bananas, I 
looked at mine and almost panicked.  

"Gail," I whispered, tears forming as I looked up at her.  "Gail, I 
don't know how to open it."

"Oh darling," she said in a low voice, "here, watch me."  She took 
another banana from the bag and with a quick twist she opened the 
skin.  I tried to copy her and, eventually did the same.  No one 
laughed, nor commented on how long it took me to get inside.  Their 
love and respect for me brought tears to my eyes.

Gingerly I took a bite.  Never, never ever had I tasted anything so 
wonderful.  This was worth the wait.  If I were to die then I would 
have died happy.  Oh, these truly are the food of the gods.  I 
savoured every bite, every morsel.  I ate and ate, only realising 
that I had finished the whole bag when Rae spoke up.

"Karen, can I put the bag in the bin for you?" 

Shocked, I turned to Gail and Paul, appalled at my greed.  How could 
I have been so thoughtless?  Looking at them, I watched their faces 
split into huge grins.  Then Paul picked me up and spun me around.

"You gorgeous, precious girl.  If only you could have seen your face 
just then.  You really, really enjoyed those bananas, didn't you? 

Held in his strong arms I could only nod.

We walked back toward the car.  As we passed the grocer's stall the 
stall holder called out, "Hey - little lady."

I turned toward him.  Then, in surprise, caught the package he threw 
to me.

"After this lot saw you eat my bananas, well I've sold nearly all of 
me stock.  Come back again love!"

I smiled at him and called, "Thanks, I will.  Next weekend."  I 
looked in the bag, yes a BIG bunch of bananas.  "Thank you."  I 
called again, as I waved goodbye.

In the car again, we sat in silence.  I held Leslie tightly, needing 
her warmth against me.  Rae cuddled me from my other side.  My 
thoughts raced as I went over the day's events.  

Arriving home, we sat at the kitchen table, still in silence, 
looking at the papers I had been given.  The rest of the day passed 
in a blur.  Before I knew it I was in bed with Leslie at my side.  

"Karen," she said quietly, "Karen, do you still love me?  Now that 
you've got all this money, I mean.  Do you?"  

I saw the uncertainty in her eyes, and now my tears did flow and 
flow freely.

"Leslie, my precious.  I truly love you; I would give up everything 
for you.  You are the one you saved me in Bloody Beeches.  I owe you 
my life - everything.  I wish I could prove it in some way."  

I looked at her as she lay in my arms.  Lowering my head I kissed 
her, my lips brushing hers, my tongue slipped along her parted lips 
and then entered her warm mouth.  Our tongues played together as we 
breathed into each other.  Our mouths and noses locked, preventing 
us from getting any air other than that which we gave to the other.  
Long minutes we remained locked together until dizziness forced us 
apart.  Eye to eye, we gazed into each other's souls.  

"Make love to me Karen, like you do to Gail.  Please."  Leslie 
asked, begged almost.

Her eyes spoke of her desire.  Do not be fooled.  Even an eight year 
old has desires; sometimes those desires are ones which we fool 
ourselves into believing are reserved for adults only.  This was one 
of those times when Leslie needed to be physically loved.  I would 
be happy, honoured, to make love to her.

I kissed her again, her small slim body relaxed in my arms and I 
took control of her.  Twisting, I laid her down on her back beneath 
me.  I lifted my leg and placed it between hers, pressing on her 
vulva, feeling the wetness there.  Resting on my elbow, I looked 
down at her lying under me.  Trustingly she looked up at me.

"Turn over."  I told her.  She rolled over onto her stomach, her 
arms spread above her head.  I brushed aside her hair and gazed at 
her slender neck.  Unable to resist any longer I lowered my mouth, 
kissed and nibbled her neck all the way along her hairline.  Twice I 
went from side to side.  I rubbed her back down to her buttocks, 
dipping down into the crack between her cheeks.  I kissed down her 
spine, each bone was licked and kissed.  I tasted the soap she used 
for her shower, the special taste that was Leslie, her sweat, and 
her excitement.  

My tongue dipped between her legs.  I hesitated for a moment, her 
puckered brown anus before me.  I had licked and kissed Gail's and 
Paul's, so I hesitated no longer.  Dipping my head, I stiffened my 
tongue, rolling it into a tube and pressed hard against her back 
passage.  She groaned and pressed back against me, her sphincter 
relaxed and suddenly my tongue was inside her.  Despite the bitter 
taste, I pressed on and forced my way deeper into her ass, pressing 
forward until my lips were locked tight against her.  My tongue now 
deeper into her than I ever thought possible.  Leslie squirmed in 
her pleasure, impaled on my tongue.  I was beginning to enjoy my 
position of power.  Withdrawing from her, I felt her shudder, then 
gasp as I thrust hard into her again.  I fucked her ass with my 
tongue until I felt her shuddering.  

Then I withdrew.  I lifted her hips and gained access to her slit.  
My tongue dipped into this honey pot and feasted on her nectar.  I 
licked the length of her slit.  Taking care to nudge her little clit 
within its hood.  Then I snaked an arm beneath her and spread her 
cunt lips.  Lapping now, I set to work on her.  Moaning and 
squirming she surrendered to my mouth, to my lovemaking.  With a 
loud gasp, she stiffened and I felt and tasted a flow of salty 
nectar wash into my waiting mouth.  Hungrily I licked up her 
spending, her engorged cunt lips full and warm against my face, my 
nose.  I was drowning in her sex, and I pressed deeper for more.  

I turned her over, now staring directly into her slit.  Without 
bidding, she parted her legs.  I had complete access to her.  I 
looked up at her chest and saw the remaining flushed colouration 
from her orgasm.  She'd had a real orgasm.  Sex is all in the brain.  
Leslie had wanted to be loved, to cum, so she did.  I parted her 
cunt lips and gently pressed a finger into her.  With her copious 
juices flowing freely I had no trouble at all pushing my finger 
completely into her.  Another finger joined the first, then another.  
Three fingers spread her fully and fucked her hard.  I thrust into 
her again and again as she squirmed and moaned below me.  I watched 
as the redness spread down her neck, then her chest.  She stiffened 
again, threw her head back and cried out as her orgasm overtook her.  
Again I was rewarded with a copious flow of her special honey.  I 
feasted upon her, gladly dipping my tongue into her honey pot.  
Gently, slowly, Leslie came down from her orgasm.  

"Thank you," was all she managed before she fell asleep.   

I lay next to her, savouring her warmth.  I nuzzled into her hair, 
eyes closed, slipping into sleep.  This was my true fortune, the 
love I received from Leslie, Gail, Paul and Rae.   All else paled 
beside that love.  I drifted into sleep.  What would tomorrow bring? 

What indeed.

Comments please to raven_soule@mailandnews.com

Copyright (C) Karen Souleman, 2001
 


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