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From: PJcocoa@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} First Impressions [3] {Gary} (ScFi, M-solo, f-solo)
Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2001 10:10:03 -0400
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First Impressions Chapter 3

By Gary

(ScFi, M-solo, f-solo) Copyright 2001

My not so standard disclaimer:  If you aren't supposed to be
reading this because of your age, or where you live, then I don't
want you to read this, either.  It isn't that I believe 'minors'
don't have prurient thoughts or engage in 'adult' activities.  I
know damned well that they do.  It IS that there are laws which
could get both of us (but mainly ME) in trouble. My email
requesting the continuation of this story lead me to premature
posting.  If you have specific suggestions for this or subsequent
chapters, feel free to contact me by clicking on the link above or
sending e-mail to Pjcocoa@aol.com.  I like regular feedback, too.
It's the only payment I get.

First Impressions - Chapter 3

Early on a Friday morning I finally took Pat and Julie outside to
acquaint them with the 'great outdoors'.  I stressed to them over
and over that they were to remain hidden inside my shirt.  Their
heads peeked out of my collar while their twirling eyes took in all
the new sights and smells.

Before we went outside I had reinforced the feelings of safety and
comfort of the indoors, and in particular the safety of my bedroom.
I did my utmost to convey that my bedroom was a haven to return to
in case of any danger.  I looked all around my room and thought
calm, reassuring thought and feelings.  I don't know that they
understood a word as I spoke of that safety in reassuring tones.

The first test happened at the end of my driveway.  My neighbor's
black Labrador retriever obliged by running toward me and barking.
I felt a small thrill of fear (I know he wants to lick me to death)
and found myself unladen before I could swallow. I patted Rufus on
his bristly head and returned to the house.

As I'd hoped, Pat and Julie were on the master bed, wings spread
and eyes swirling red in alarm.  I gathered them to me and spoke
softly, once again thinking calm, reassuring thoughts and images.
Eventually, they calmed, and their eyes were a slower green swirl.
Tucking them under my shirt again, we returned outside to nature.

This time I avoided Rufus and circled the house instead.  In the
back yard, the squirrels were racing up and down the pines, and two
heads watched intently.  I flash-forwarded to a recurring image of
nine teens surrounding me while their fire-lizards watched Pat or
Julie blooding a squirrel.

I shook that thought off.  It would as likely be a field mouse as
a squirrel - the squirrels had had ample practice avoiding capture
from the neighborhood cats.  Except that the squirrels were semi-
permanent residents hereabouts, and had never fended off a fire-
lizard.  And I had never fended off willing, eager teenagers.

Which, as the first creelings of hunger came from my pair, brought
me to the immediate problem of Elaine.  So, as a mature adult, I
postponed that problem a little longer.  We returned inside and I
prepared breakfast, letting the girls share a slice of toast while
I broiled a pound of bacon and cracked eggs for omelettes. Jay
came to the table via the refrigerator, where she snagged a quart
of orange juice.

While Jay competed with Pat and Julie for the lion's share of the
bacon and eggs, I tried to shield my thoughts.  Tonight was two
weeks since Elaine's sleepover and I had told Jay to invite Elaine
and any of the other girls again.  I'll admit to a fear that what
had happened with Elaine might happen as well with the others. I'll
admit that there was some thrill at the thought, too.

But I had some other thoughts that led to a hypothesis which 
needed testing.  Elaine was performing her own tests, and I was... 
less than pleased.  That night two weeks ago had demonstrated that
Elaine and I, through our fire lizards, shared any intense feelings
and emotions.  In the two weeks since that night, I had been
inhibited from, shall we say, mastering my domain.  Shit, let's
call it what it is; I hadn't beat off in two weeks.

But I was in no danger of losing my libido, or lacking for
satisfaction.  Elaine had apparently had no such inhibitions.  When
her bedtime corresponded to my wake-up time, I had no complaints at
awakening to a throbbing erection.  It was a good deal less
convenient if she went for an encore while I was commuting to work
or while I was trying to get a turnover from the off-going shift,
which happened half the time.  I had excused myself with stomach
cramps each time.  The boys at work were convinced I was getting
ulcers.

I could tell that her alarm woke her at six for school, because
shortly afterwards, so did my cock.  At least at that hour, I was
alone in the power plant and could plan to be in the rest room.

I shared other strong emotions as well.  When I awoke from my
daytime sleep shortly after going to bed, consumed in overwhelming
anger (which Pat and Julie echoed with orange swirling eyes), Jay
confirmed with a phone call that Elaine and her little brother had
had a fight.  On another morning, just before shift's end, I clung
to a handrail on the catwalk above the boilers quivering with
unnamed terror.  Jay reported that the brakes of Elaine's schoolbus
had failed when approaching an occupied rail crossing.  Thankfully,
the emergency brakes had worked.

On Monday, I had given Jay a note to pass to Elaine:

    Dear Elaine, 
         I think we need to discuss the phenomenon face to face.  I
    told Jay to invite you this weekend.  In the meantime, could you
    please restrain yourself?  Some activities should be performed
    at a less inconvenient hour. 
                    Affectionately, 
                    Mr. B.

Since Monday night, I had orgasmed every day at 6 AM, 4:30PM, again
at 10:00PM, and finally some time between then and midnight. She
must have been alone most of Monday evening, since I got very
little sleep before work.  At least I was off Wednesday night, when
she was suffering from insomnia.

This morning, since I once again had Friday off, I planned to
teach her a lesson.  My day had started with the usual erection,
and I had not only resisted this time, I had taken a *very* cold
shower.  I suspect Elaine went to school somewhat frustrated.

Jay pecked my cheek and was off to her bus stop.  I started the
after-breakfast anointing of my ladies with Oil of Olay with one
eye on the clock.  I knew the block scheduling for classes this
year and had planned a little payback.  Instead of six 50 minute
periods and a 40 minute lunch, this year the county high school
lengthened classes to an hour and 45 minutes and provided two
lunch periods, alternating subjects.  Elaine had classes first and
second block and ate second lunch.

School started at 8:15.  Homeroom ended at 8:30.  Elaine's first
class began at 8:40, and so did I.  With Pat on my left shoulder,
and Julie on my right, both tucked in and sleeping, I called up an
erotic story on the computer.  Next to me was a bowl of cold water
and a washcloth.  I selected an erotic website, set a story on slow
scroll, and added a little more Oil of Olay to my hands after
lowering my zipper and fishing out my flaccid cock.

The story was arousing. A nice Catholic kid loses his parents and
moves in with a foster family, an attractive mother and two teenage
girls.  The older girl is a cheerleader who takes their mutual
virginity and sets him up to take the virginity of the rest of the
cheerleading squad.  It got me erect and I took care to stay just
at the edge - watching the clock helped.  Picturing Elaine
squirming in her seat waiting for the bell to ring so she could
rush to the girls' room almost put me over the edge, and I had to
think baseball to back off.  I was as stiff as a bat.

I paused the scrolling a few minutes before the end of her first
class and tried to clear my mind.  I could tell the instant Elaine
reached a stall in the rest room, however, and that was my cue to
dunk a washcloth and apply it to the affected area.  I gasped as my
erection shrank.  Poor Elaine.

I was still limp when the clock said Elaine's second class
started.  I started scrolling and rubbing again, seeking the edge
once more.  Holding off satisfaction was a more difficult tightrope
walk this time.  I suspected Elaine was wiggling one crossed leg,
trying to get enough stimulation.  Maintaining this level without
going over was beginning to be painful.  Every now and then, Pat or
Julie would pen barely hooded eyes, swirling in a slight amber
tinged shade of green.  I maintained the stimulation right through
the end of her class into her lunch period.

The phone rang.  As I expected, caller ID displayed the number of
the pay phone in the cafeteria.  I answered, "Hello, Elaine."

"You win. You've made your point and I'm sorry," she said
breathlessly.  "I won't do it again."

"You sound like you're out of breath," I gloated.

"You're driving me crazy," she whispered fiercely.  "If I go to
the rest room, are you going to hit yourself with a hammer again,
or whatever you've been doing?"

"No.  But you'd better hurry because..." The phone clicked off and
a dialtone filled my ear.  I grabbed a kleenex and chuckled.

I leaned back and waited.  It must have taken ten minutes for her
to get an empty stall.  Ten minutes while I tried to get even
closer to the brink without going over.  At the first hint of
external stimulation, I let myself go.  And go.  The male orgasm
isn't meant to come so long, and I began to wonder if there was a
reverse side to blue balls.

Finally, the climax ended, but the stimulation didn't, and neither
did my erection, something that hadn't happened to me in at least a
dozen years.  I needed more lotion.  I needed more air.  Then I
just needed more.  I passed out from the intensity of the pleasure.

I awoke to the phone ringing again.  Same number on the caller ID.
"Hello?"  It might be Jay.

"Wow.  That was... wow.  Thank you so much.  I'll see you later,
okay?  Wow."  She hung up.

~

I woke up from a short nap around 5 o'clock.  Jay's bus generally
drops her off at half past four, so hers had to be one of the
female voices chattering away down the hallway.  Interwoven with
the feminine voices was the higher pitched warbling of an
indeterminate number of fire lizards.  Julie and Pat were absent
from my neck and shoulders.

One of the girls shrieked and I wasn't surprised to find Pat,
Julie, and Zander flitting above my bed, eyes swirling in alarm. 
When Pat and Julie dropped quickly to my chest, Zander dropped to
the bed by my head.  I talked to them all softly, scratching behind
eye ridges, until the swirling changed back to green.  Zander
accepted my touch as readily as my girls, and soon all three were
curled on my chest.  I almost dropped back to sleep myself.

There was a light tap on my door, and Jay opened it a crack. 
Seeing that I was dressed and above the spread, she turned and
whispered something, then she and Elaine entered and collected the
limp flits.  Elaine had a bemused look on her face.  "What's the
matter, Elaine?"

"All the others' fire lizards returned to their homes.  Zander
went to you," she whispered.  

"I find that very flattering," I whispered back.  "Why do you
suppose he chose here instead of your house?"

"I don't know.  I did what you suggested, I pictured my room as a
safe place and all.  Maybe that got undermined a little when my
little brother or my parents knocked on my door and startled me. 
Or maybe he just followed Pat and Julie.  I can tell he likes them."

"Well, he's welcome here any time," I said, and my subconscious
supplied silently, "and so are you."  I really didn't want thoughts
like that coming without my conscious involved.  Besides the
obvious *jailbait* issue, there was the whole age difference
thing.  Sooner or later, Elaine would find someone her own age, and
we needed to discuss that and the fact that I would know when he
reached each base, and would be embarrassingly aware of the day he
stole home.

And if I started dating, a teenager would know every time I was
aroused.  I'm not so old that a women bending over, a silhouette of a
breast, a glimpse of cleavage didn't stir my interest. Unless Pat and
Julie learned a lot more control and circumspection, *I* would have
to learn to be both a voyeur *and* an exhibitionist.  Even now, as
the girls carried our fair back to the living room and the hallway
light exposed the gap between Elaine's thighs through her demure knee
length skirt...

Elaine froze in my doorway.  Damn.  She caught that thought, or
the feeling it produced.  Was she angry?  Shocked?  I closed my
eyes and tried to think of tomorrow night's worklist.

I opened one eye and Elaine was still in the doorway.  She rolled
her hips and *undulated* down the hallway.  Worse than angry or
shocked, she enjoyed my illicit notice and was encouraging more. 
Not for the first time, I told myself, "I'm going to hell."

~

I got up and splashed water on my face and combed my hair.  I had
no idea how many girls were in my living room, nor how many would
be sleeping over, and I felt trepidation (and no small amount of
fear) at the answer to that.  Worse, I knew Elaine was aware of
it, if not the reasons for it.  

Damn it, by not taking my own daughter into my confidence, I had
exacerbated a situation over which I already had precious little
control.  In my defense, there aren't many fathers who frankly
discuss their sex lives with their daughters, except as examples of
What All Boys Want and Why They Should Wait.  And what could I tell
her, anyway?

It hit me like a brick.  I *did* know what to tell her.  Elaine
had been telling *me* for two weeks.  Waiting and What All *Boys*
Want, indeed.  A dollar and *those* old paradigms would buy a cup
of coffee almost anywhere.  Not only did I need to talk to Elaine,
but now I needed to have a realistic talk with Jay as well.  I
wondered what Elaine made of the emotions that had flitted by with
the complete upset of my worldview.

I reintroduced myself to the girls in the living room, showing
favoritism only to blood kin.  I vaguely remembered Brenda, whose
brown Keanu was a lazy little butterball; Kimberly, with blue Papa
Smurf; and Jessica and her bronze Chandler.  The fire
lizards chittered, the girls chattered, and I made myself
comfortable in front of the computer.  Jay, as she had during
Elaine's last visit, puttered in the kitchen.

FreeCell was only peripherally on my mind.  I eavesdropped
shamelessly, wondering what, if anything, Elaine had shared/would
share of our fire lizard-enhanced rapport.  In reality I knew
nothing of importance would be said within earshot except
accidentally.  When serious topics were discussed, they would adjourn
to Jay's room to 'try on clothes' or do each other's hair.  With
the door closed.  

One trend I found extremely interesting.  No matter how much the
girls teased one another, no matter how much blushing, anger,
*whatever* emotion was evoked in the banter the girls shared, the
only ones I felt at all strongly were those of Elaine.  It was as
though the other girls were using their fire lizards like toy store
walkie-talkies (emotionally speaking), while Elaine and Zander were
a ham radio tuned to my frequency.  I refined  a hypothesis or two
in that light, and relaxed somewhat in its implications.

Since I couldn't exactly drag Elaine aside to talk to her, I began
typing an email:

    Elaine, just act natural while you read this.
    It may be important to know if any of the 
    other girls have been having erotic dreams
    at the same time as you and I have handled
    things, wink, wink.  Can you find out?
    After dinner I am going to my room and I 
    plan to do what I did this morning.  Try
    to act natural as long as you can and see
    if the other girls are affected.  If you 
    don't want me to do that, just type your
    answer here as though you are correcting 
    my email.  If you do, don't forget to 
    lock the bathroom door when you excuse
    yourself.  Later, we need an excuse to 
    speak alone.  Try to think of something.
              - Mr. B.

I hit the enter key until the text scrolled off the screen, then
turned around and paid attention to the ladies for a few minutes. 
The discussion centered around "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer", a
television show I had only occasionally glimpsed because Jay
watched.  At an opportune moment, I inquired about moisturizers,
asking what the girls used on their fire lizards.  I asked if I
could check their fire lizards for patchy spots while they handled
mine for the same reason.  Jay wanted an excuse to handle the flits
as well.  I admit it's addictive, like holding a newborn.  While
this was going on (I checked Zander first, deliberately), I asked
Elaine if she would proofread my email before I sent it, and she
agreed.  I kept the girls' attention on our fire lizards, soliciting
their advice and dispensing my own.

I felt Elaine startle as she read my message, but noticed no trace
reflected in the girls, even though more than one neck craned in
her direction and a few eyes swirled faster, particularly Pat's and
Julie's.  Zander spread his wings on her shoulder, catching her pony
tail.  She asked nonchalantly, "Should I just correct the
spelling?" and I responded with an uninterested affirmative.  I
heard the keys clicking rapidly.  She must have taken typing or
keyboarding.

I even picked up a tip or two from my diversion.  Pond's
Moisturizing Cream was just as effective as Oil of Olay, and Wesson
Oil or Crisco would do in a pinch, or even olive oil (I managed not
to ask if it was extra-virgin).  We had all laughed at that,
causing some amusing squacking.  I thought I might stick with O-
cubed because I had started with it, it worked, and my hands were
feeling smoother (not necessarily a bad thing, considering what
Elaine had put me through for the last fortnight).

When Elaine informed me that my spelling had been corrected, I
thanked her and the girls for their help, complimented them on the
fine care they had taken of their fire lizards, and returned to the
computer.  I read:

    Elaine, just act natural while you read this.
    It may be important to know if any of the 
    other girls have been having erotic dreams
    at the same time as you and I have handled
    things, wink, wink.  Can you find out?
       I'll try.  You'll know when I bring it up.
       (Wink, wink)
    After dinner I am going to my room and I 
    plan to do what I did this morning.  Try
    to act natural as long as you can and see
    if the other girls are affected.  If you 
    don't want me to do that, just type your
    answer here as though you are correcting 
    my email.  
       Are you kidding?  I can hardly wait!
    If you do, don't forget to 
    lock the bathroom door when you excuse
    yourself.  
       Good idea, LOL.  And I'll take my
       purse.  You already owe me a new
       billfold.  My old one has some 
       really deep bite marks, and it
       will have more soon.
    Later, we need an excuse to 
    speak alone.  Try to think of something.
            - Mr. B.
       I'll try. XXX Elaine

I deleted the email.

~

Dinner was interesting.  Jay had stayed simple, spaghetti and
meatballs in a marinara sauce, with *lots* of little meatballs.  A
bowl of meatballs without sauce sat in the center of the table, and
the table had been set with saucers next to plates.  Each girl had
a fire lizard perched on her shoulder.  Julie wrapped her tail
possessively around my neck, but Pat had allowed herself to be
cajoled onto Jay's shoulder.  Their appetites had been curbed by
snacks throughout the evening, so they ate with good manners for a
wonder.  Each girl served herself and took a saucer of meatballs on
the side.  

I may have inhibited the normal exuberance of a table
full of teenaged girls.  It almost felt like one of my juvenile
dates, where neither of us took more than a single bite for fear of
committing some faux pas.  The conversation was restrained at
first, too, until someone teased Jessica about the way she ate
spaghetti at school.  Things were livelier after that.

I answered questions and comments, but turned down thirds (to the
laughter of good natured joking) and withdrew, mentioning that it
was past time for Pat and Julie's nap, and I'd be reading in my
room if I was needed.  Elaine's eyes sparkled.  I didn't dawdle - I
could feel an erection growing.  Not *my* fault.  I hadn't been in
quite that much of a hurry.

I did snag my bottle of Olay from the computer desk.  Had a feeling I
might be needing it.

In my locked room, I disposed myself and my ladies for a little
light fantasizing.  I was semi-erect but in no geat rush.  First I
set a mental stage.  I tried to picture the young ladies in the
living room, sprawled comfortably watching a tape on the
television.  For the purposes of my fantasy, I made the tape a
'women in prison' movie.  I tried to envision each girl separately.

Keanu's Brenda.  Tallish.  Blondish.  Heavy breasts.  Not
overweight, but solid.  She'd been wearing jeans and a pullover of
some kind.  Sneakers, I think.  Then there was Papa Smurf's
Kimberly.  As tall as Brenda, but thin.  No tits.  Well, she had
the start of tits, but nothing noticeable.  Short, hair, curly or
wavy, brown, I recalled, or maybe dark blonde.  Jeans and a t-
shirt.  Now Chandler's Jessica.  Shortish, maybe Jay's height.  No
guess about her bust, she was wearing a University of Miami
Hurricane sweatshirt, several sizes too large.  Jeans again.  Dark
hair, longer than shoulder length.  I grinned - sloppy eater.

Elaine.  Tall enough for my lips to reach her green-flecked brown
eyes.  Her brown hair with its red highlights hung just below her
shoulders, except tonight, when her blue scrunchie gathered it
into a ponytail, except for the escaped strands that hung in front
of her left ear.  Her earlobes each had a single piercing in
contrast to Jay's seven, and she wore diamond-chip earrings of
sterling or white gold.  Her hips were womanly, in proportion to
her waist.  Not a model's pinched waist, a woman's waist.  Her
breasts were hand-sized, their nipples like thimbles surrounded by
half-dollar sized areolas.  She was wearing a yellow on blue floral
patterned blouse above a knee-length cotton skirt, zippered on the
right side.  Her blue and white sneakers had a Nike swoop over
white ankle socks.  I'd noted an ankh ring on her middle finger
when she had stroked Zander, and a Timex sports watch with leather
band on her left wrist.

Jay, of course, was absent from this fantasy.  I may be going to
hell, but I wasn't travelling that particular highway.  As it was,
this highway had no posted speed limit.  I was fully erect.  I
rubbed Oil of Olay between my palms to warm it, then took matters
into my own hands.

In the fantasy, the antics on the screen released inhibitions off-
screen, and three girls were in a squirming heap.  On the sofa,
Elaine unbuttoned her blouse to her waist and inserted her right
hand to tease her nipples through her translucent green bra.  Her
left hand slowly lowered the zipper on her skirt, then stole into
her matching green panties.

And that was as far as I got before I felt Elaine join in.  So
much for observing the other girls, I laughed softly.  I lay back
and stroked wholeheartedly for two.

Continued in Chapter 4

Let me know what you thought at Gary (pjcocoa@aol.com)

My stories (more like this) can be found at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gary/www/


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