Message-ID: <33011asstr$1003569003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@newsread1.prod.itd.earthlink.net> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail X-Original-Message-ID: <E6E649DF.7E43@earthlink.net> From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net> Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.net MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 19 Oct 2001 21:31:39 PDT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sat, 20 Oct 2001 04:31:39 GMT Subject: {ASSM} NND 4 of 4 A Virgins Last Hours Date: Sat, 20 Oct 2001 05:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/33011> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: english, dennyw - NND --------------------------------------------------------- Visit my FTP site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Roller/ <--click Click, or put the address into your browser. All my stories are there. --------------------------------------------------------------- FREE Damien! http://www.wm3.org/html/damien.html Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in A Virgin's Last Hours Chapter Four You would not have guessed, from the welcome at the door, what the party inside Wesley's apartment was like. The building itself was sedately old, not flashy or new like Trump Plaza or like the World Trade Center towers had been. Up a creaky elevator, wrapped in a cage of barred steel, like something that might lead to a stockbroker's office, went Sylvie and Alessandra. It was operated by a gentlemanly old fellow, dressed in a dapper cap and suit. "Lots of nice folk coming in tonight," the man mused, looking speculatively at Alessandra. "Yes," Alessandra answered. Sylvie giggled a little, caught it in her hand. If only this old man knew she was wearing nothing but black underwear under her gorgeous fur coat! "Here you are," the old man chimed out. "Floor twenty-two." Alessandra thanked the old man and ushered her niece out of the elevator ahead of her, the bars grinding back to let them out. The hallway was muted. Lamps in the shape of gaslights lit the halls. Following the path lit by the lights the two women went to a door. "221," the door read, in gold letters mounted on an iron plaque next to the door. Alessandra knocked. A woman answered. Alessandra showed the woman her invitation that she'd received in the mail. "Oh. Do come in," the woman answered. She was a redhead, perhaps 25, wearing opera length gloves like Alessandra and Sylvie that were purple, not black. She wore a shimmering purple gown, looking very formal. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, decorated with jewels. Alessandra didn't know if the jewels were fake or real, they sparkled so brightly. "I brought my niece," Alessandra said to the woman. The redhead looked at Sylvie. The girl gulped. For a moment the woman looked at her face, but then at her breasts as well, and the rest of her body. "I suppose she's old enough," the redhead said. She smiled and extended a gloved hand, took Sylvie's smaller gloved hand in her own. "My name's Rebecca," the redhead said. "May I please have your coat?" Sylvie turned. She blushed a little as the woman reached at her coat from behind. A moment later it was off her shoulders, and there, in a small anteroom, the noise of the party in a room beyond, the door to the hallway now closed, Sylvie was revealed in her black underwear. "My, how nice you look," Rebecca said. She smiled at Alessandra. "And so well prepared," she added. She hung Sylvie's coat in a closet as self-assuredly as if she'd revealed Sylvie to be in a gown as formal and pretty as her own. Then she asked for Alessandra's coat, and the woman presented her back, as was expected, so that Rebecca could relieve her of it. The redhead did; Sylvie giggled a bit as she saw her aunt stripped with her coat's removal to underwear as black and sexy as her own. Alessandra's coat was hung. A woman wandered around the corner from the party, saw the two in their underwear, and smiled. She too wore a gown, of blazing red. "This is my assistant," Rebecca said to Alessandra. "Don't blush. She helps me with the door." Alessandra was a little red-faced now; Sylvie moreso. Were others at this party dressed as they were, or were they the only ones? Sylvie found herself wondering. From a small deal table, made of cherry wood polished to perfection, Rebecca took, out of an ice bucket that sat on top of the table, a can of Redi Wip. She told Sylvie to turn a little and yanked, quite suddenly and without permission, the back of Sylvie's panties down. "Oh!" Sylvie cried. Alessandra reached out and grasped one of the girl's flailing hands. Sylvie craned her neck, looking behind herself, as Rebecca aimed the can. With a sudden WHOOSH the whipped cream sprayed forth. Rebecca, who was holding down the back of Sylvie's panties, aimed the cream inbetween Sylvie's slender legs. "YEEEEK!" Sylvie cried. She arched up on her tip-toes as the icy cream shot along and up within her cunny lips. Then, still aiming carefully, Rebecca raised the can. She traced a line up the back of Sylvie's bottom, along her crack, getting cream inbetween her tight-pressed cheeks but mostly on the outer curves of her ass where her two bottom cheeks joined. When Rebecca stepped away she left Sylvie's panties as they were. The 13-year-old immediately reached back to repair them, no doubt wishing too to wipe the icy cream away, but Rebecca snapped, "Don't touch them!" Sylvie gaped, still looking at the woman over her slender lightly tanned shoulder. "You will wear them just as they are," Rebecca said. "You have a lovely young ass and it is modest enough with the cream covering your crack. Now turn around. Let me see the front of you." Sylvie balked. She looked imploringly at her aunt but Alessandra's eyes answered with the question she'd put to Sylvie so many times already: "Wouldn't you rather have a babysitter?" Sylvie turned around and presented her soft belly, indrawn now with fright, and her bra-covered bosoms and little black panties to the redheaded woman. Rebecca reached for the front of Sylvie's panties and pulled them open. As Sylvie watched, astonished, the woman sprayed whipped cream into the pouch made by Sylvie's pulled-out panties. "YOOOOOCH!" Sylvie couldn't help crying, as the cold cream shot against her pubic hair and whooshed down into her cunt from in front, covering her little pee hole amidst the hairs of her pubis. Rebecca let go of Sylvie's panties when her panty-pouch was full. It snapped against the girl, splashing a bit of cream upward onto her belly. "You may keep your mount covered, but not your bottom," Rebecca said, indicating how Sylvie was to wear her panties. Then the woman reached up and yanked down the right cup of Sylvie's bra. The girl tried to protest. But she bit her lip at the last minute, and let out another incoherent howl as the cream was sprayed against her fulsome breast. Rebecca went straight for Sylvie's little red nipple. When it was covered she left Sylvie's bra with the right cup tucked under her breast, lifting, quite lewdly, her right tit up and out. Then her hand went to Sylvie's other breast. The left cup was pulled down, exposing the cone-like flesh of her second fat little tit. Again Sylvie bit her lip as Rebecca aimed, then yelled as the cold cream slammed against her warm body, against her taut little nipple! The second bra cup was left as the first, down under Sylvie's breast so that, though her tits were naked, they were somewhat modest owing to the placement of the cream. "Don't touch your bra," Rebecca said to Sylvie. "Except to take it off." She turned to Alessandra. Sylvie was left standing abjectly, the woman in the red dress looking at her with mothering eyes, as Alessandra watched her cups pulled down and her tits sprayed one by one, by Rebecca. Then the redhead went for Alessandra's pubis, and finally had her turn around and shot cream up along her bottom's crack. Then she went to the deal table again, replaced the Redi Wip in the ice bucket, and opened a drawer. From it she pulled a ball gag. Alessandra balked as she turned and brought it to the young woman. "Turn around," Rebecca said. Alessandra did, but her lips mouthed-- "I don't think--" in a soft voice. She looked anxiously at Sylvie. The ball gag, which was made of red rubber, was slung around Alessandra's neck. As it lay against the pearl choker she wore, Rebecca, ever efficient and quick, tied the ball gag at the back of Alessandra's neck. Then, to Alessandra's surprise, she left it that way. "You will want it later, when your behind is to be challenged by the whip," Rebecca smiled, as casually as if she were offering a teaspoon to a woman uncertain whether to take sugar with her drink. Then she went to the table again. The drawer was still open. She fished from it a second ball gag. "This will protect your tongue when the time comes," Rebecca said to Sylvie. "Turn around." Sylvie gaped at her aunt, much as her aunt had gaped at her just moments before. Rebecca draped the red rubber ball at the front of Sylvie's neck, against her pearls. Then, as with Alessandra, she tied the ball gag at the back of Sylvie's neck, leaving the ball hanging free, to be put in Sylvie's mouth later. "There. You are both done," Rebecca said when she was finished. "You're free to join the party." Feeling awkward, wearing high heels that made their bottoms roll as they walked, Alessandra and Sylvie rounded the corner that led to the party. What they saw amazed them. Despite the fact that everyone was still standing around having drinks, as mild-mannerly as if they were indeed at a formal affair for which Rebecca and her assistant seemed dressed, everyone was attired as Alessandra and Sylvie were, namely with whipped cream covering their otherwise exposed private parts, and ball gags around their necks. The men were the most naked. They wore nothing but a shirt and tie, tucked up and pinned with women's hair pins to ensure that their asses and cocks were revealed. Each man had cream covering his cock and balls, as well as up the crack of his behind; he was clothed and yet bare, his cock quivering whitely like something that had been stabbed into a snowbank. "Oh. How nice!" Alessandra said. She smiled at Sylvie. The girl was blushing; Alessandra was a little too, though she tried not to show it. The men were incredibly handsome; like Sylvie, it was obvious from the look on her face that she longed to see them without the cream covering their most essential parts. "They sure are long!" Sylvie said, with childish enthusiasm, blushing even more as she looked around her. She meant, of course, the men's cocks, for amidst all that male splendor, she had little time for observing what the women offered, except to note that they were similar in dress and beauty to herself. To add to the sexual enchantment, a man walked up to a toilet that was in the center of the room. He lifted the lid, then the seat, holding his drink in his hand all the while. Then he pissed; right through the cream covering his cock. As he pissed a second man came up and, holding a drink as well, slapped his behind. The first man laughed; the second peed with him and they seemed to have a race, seeing which could relieve his bladder fastest. But a woman came up to them and suggested they both try to hold themselves back. So they did; each cutting himself off in mid-stream, chuckling with the effort of stopping the flow of a half-full bladder. The woman smiled and replaced the toilet lid and seat. Then she took a can of Redi-Wip out of an ice bucket perched on the back of the toilet and carefully squirted each man's pee-hole. The force of his urine had exposed his pee hole; she now made him modest again by covering it up. When the toilet had ceased flushing, the woman opened the lid up again, but she didn't raise the seat. She sat down. She was holding a drink and she demurely sipped it as she released, through her cream covered cunt lips, her pee. The men watched, fascinated. The woman looked up at them as she drank and peed. The realization that the men had not finished peeing was utterly obscene. Their own cocks stuck out at her face, quivering with their restrained need, as she emptied all of herself into the toilet. When she was done, before rising from the toilet, she leaned forward. Her heavy breasts hung with creamy desire as she ran her tongue along each man's cock. Where her tongue touched, he was exposed. Her lips, red with lipstick, turned white, as her mouth ran along the cream covered dicks. When she was finished she licked her lips and swallowed. Another woman glided up and took the Redi-Wip off the back of the toilet and repaired the damage to the men's creamy penis decorations. Sylvie and Alessandra mingled with the crowd. As they did more people took the opportunity of pissing in the toilet in the center of the room. No doubt there were bathrooms somewhere in Wesley's apartment, but the word had gone out, before Sylvie and Alessandra's arrival, that for the time being, at least at the party's beginning, anyone who had to go must use the toilet on public view. Whenever anyone did, someone repaired the damage to their cream-covered genitals with the Redi-Wip on the back of the toilet. Alessandra and Sylvie were urged to drink their fill, that they might participate in the sport. The conversation was both prosaic and lewd. Amidst stock tips and baking ideas, comments were traded on various partiers' assets. Alessandra herself, relatively new to these sorts of gatherings, came in for a great load of compliments. Her hair was praised, her underwear also, but most of all those parts of herself which were teasingly revealed and yet covered, thanks to the strategic placement of the cream. Sylvie too was complimented; both her breasts, large for a girl her age, and the perfect swell of her young ass were admired. Sylvie and Alessandra blushed at the openness with which those parts of themselves usually not on view were examined and praised; but even as they turned red-faced at the praise they offered their own, for who could fail to notice and compliment the many cream covered penises which jabbed at them as they were spoken to? Something which surprised Alessandra, as it had at the two other parties she'd been to of this nature, was the lack of gender identity of the comments. A woman was as likely to praise her tits as a man; a man was as apt to look at the fellow standing beside him and tell him what a fine dick he had. Wesley appeared. He was a handsome young artist with a goatee. His hair was black, Sylvie thought he looked a bit like a satyr she'd read about in her seventh grade Myths of the World class. What most intrigued her about him was that he wasn't naked like the others. As the owner of the apartment and the designer of the party, he privileged himself with a master of ceremonies role. Despite having what appeared to be a terrific body, he had it cloaked in a bathrobe. Only the protrusion at waist level, at the front of his tightly tied robe, indicated that underneath he was sporting an excellent, and utterly free, erection. He made the rounds, greeting everyone, examining their compliance with his mailed instructions as to their attire or, rather, lack of it, combined with the artfully sprayed on cream. Several women tried to lift Wesley's robe, to see what he was offering at such outstanding length underneath, but he slapped their hands away, preferring to keep his private parts private. When he came to Sylvie the girl gulped and looked up at him with a kind of dumb admiration. He grinned down at her and said, casually to Alessandra, "Your niece has one of the finest asses I've ever seen." That he was standing in front of Sylvie when he said this made the girl reach back behind herself with alarm. She felt as if her bare bottom were sticking out for everyone to admire, especially if this man could compliment it while simultaneously staring down at her uplifted breasts. "Say thank you," Alessandra said to Sylvie. At the same time, with her black gloved hand, she reached down and slapped away little Sylvie's hands, so that the girl was left awkwardly running her gloved fingers up and down her bare thighs. "Thanks," Sylvie mumbled. "I should like to have you installed in a bed later," Wesley said, still admiring the thrust of Sylvie's naked breasts, protected only by the cream on her nipples. "I'm not sleepy," Sylvie said. There was laughter. The girl's blush increased. "It isn't for the purpose of sleep, my dear," Wesley said, with charming frankness, at least as far as the others present were concerned, except Alessandra, who suddenly had a worried look on her face. "Bed is best for whipping," Wesley explained. "There is no reason to discomfort the rest of one's body just because one's bottom is in for it." Sylvie gasped. Her small, gloved hands swept back again immediately to her ass. As she clapped her bare cheeks some cream flew off her behind, landing on the floor. There was a look of utter incomprehension on her face; the laughter of the other partiers didn't help her understand Wesley's remark any better. Indeed, her aunt felt obliged to say, "Wesley! Please! She's just a virgin!" It was not something Alessandra had planned to advertise; telling the assorted men present that a virgin was in their midst was only more likely to insure the young girl was fucked. Sylvie blushed profusely. There were gasps of amazement from the crowd. Wesley smiled; had he suspected Sylvie's condition all along? Just then a woman entered the party late, coming around the corner from the anteroom. She had short brown hair. It danced on her bare slender shoulders as she presented herself to the group. She was dressed as the others, but there was one difference. While everyone else was fashionably slim, her belly was swollen and distended; but in a lovely way. "Ah, from virginity to pregnancy," Wesley announced. "Good evening, Lynne," he said to the young woman. A man entered after her, his shirt pinned up and his cock exposed and creamed. As the crowd absorbed this new couple, more comments were made: "Wow! She sure got nailed," one woman said. "No wonder. Look at the size of her lover's cock!" another enthused. "We should make sure she's truly pregnant, by all giving her a bit of what we're carrying between our legs," a man commented. "Yes. Of course," Wesley, overhearing the comment, agreed. "We shall all have at her tonight, to make sure she's indeed as pregnant as can be. Of course the baby will be named after me," Wesley added, and there was a short round of applause, though nobody knew if he was joking or telling the truth. The new mom's eyes sparkled, she looked from one partier to another as all the attention in the room now focussed on her, an her belly. She presented her load to loving hands which patted her stomach; the men present enthused not only over her stomach but over the size of her breasts. And some women did too, to Alessandra's continuing amazement that the night promised sex without regard for any morality, even for the traditional separation of genders. Sylvie stood looking at the pregnant young wife with her hands on her bottom. For the moment she was forgotten; not unhappily, she assured herself, as she felt her tender cheeks. But she wondered what it would be like to be whipped, as Wesley had offered. Not on her ribs, as Beth had done, but on her bare ass! Alessandra had promised her that if she came her behind would be a subject of much enjoyment and attention; spanked, even. But a whipping? Sylvie had not contemplated such mistreatment as that! And yet there was a certain allure to it, perhaps to the way Wesley had presented it. She was discovering she had a crush on him, as he stood admiring, with the others, the pregnant wife. Maybe it was just because he was in charge, privileged to be clothed while the others showed all they had, or almost all. Or perhaps it was because he seemed to have such a daunting cock, under that robe of his. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, as if she were not so much a living thing as a work of art, something he longed to dabble with and improve. She would grow under his tutelage. She would no longer be a scared little girl but a grown woman, a very beautiful woman, like her aunt. Gradually Sylvie loosened her fingers' hold on her bottom. She let her bare cheeks wiggle out of her palms. And then she realized, with a certain awful delight, that she had to go to the bathroom! With everyone still watching the wife, petting her belly and complimenting her, Sylvie went to the toilet. She pulled up the lid, plopped down with a certain childish relief on the seat. It was clean, and warm from the bottoms of the other women who had sat on it. Sylvie began to pee. And as the sound of her water hitting the commode's water rose up in the room, people turned to look at her. Most of all Wesley, who, with a drink in one hand and with his other hand resting on the belly of the pregnant woman, said, "Ah! Making good use of that sweet little cherry cunt of yours, eh? We shall have cake in a minute, and perhaps then you will treat me to a nice little shit!" When the mother had been admired, Wesley finished his drink and put it down on one of the deal tables scattered about the room. There were no chairs; people were expected to stand until the festivities began, not ruining the decoration of cream that ran up the cracks of their bottoms. However someone suggested to Wesley that in future toilets be made available, not for peeing in but for the fact that their seats were open in the middle. "In this way the women could rest their legs, without spoiling their pretty creamed bottoms," the man suggested. Wesley nodded. "It will be so at my next party," Wesley said. "But now we must move along, since the women have all been standing in their stockings and heels for some time. Bring out the cake!" he cried. Twin doors at the back of the room opened. A cake was rolled out, and it was huge. It was pyramid shaped. It stretched nearly up to people's chests, or necks, depending on their height. It was a layered white wedding cake, an ironic choice for such a lewd party. Atop the purity of the white icing was not a plastic statue of a couple, but rather a cock. It stuck up rudely, to the delight of the females and as a seeming challenge to what each man possessed between his legs. It was at least 12 inches long. When the cake had been rolled out, by two young women in maids outfits that did nothing to hide the beauty of their naked breasts or, when they turned, the utter nakedness of their pretty bottoms, Wesley announced that there was a surprise in store for the group. Everyone picked up the empty plates that had been lying in piles all night on the deal tables. They were made of china, but despite the expense that had been gone to in order to provide such fine wares everyone realized, at that moment, that there were no forks. "We shall eat as savages," Wesley said. "With our fingers. Keep your gloves on of course, ladies. We shall not be utterly savage." There was laughter at this. Then Wesley clapped his hands again and said, "You think that's all I have in store for you? Gather round and have some cake and you will see another surprise." The partiers eagerly swept forward. Even little Sylvie, clutching her plate, found herself drooling for some of the very pretty cake, which was adorned with little red roses as well as virgin white icing. But as people reached out to grab at the cake, which had already been arduously sliced into pieces, an amazing thing happened. It was launched by the two bare-bottomed maids, who had retreated into the kitchen. Quite suddenly champagne spurted from all points of the cake, splashing the guests. Everyone gasped. The champagne kept spurting, there was apparently a lot of it bottled up inside and the cake now peed on the guests who would eat it, washing away the cream on the women's breasts, baring their nipples, striking their bellies and running down their legs. One woman laughingly turned and offered her bottom to a stream of champagne. It washed her ass, exposing her bottom crack. The men, seeing that they could bare their dicks quickly and easily before the cake, offered themselves to the streams of champagne and laughingly washed their dicks. Others couldn't resist the obscene spectacle of trying to catch the pee-like champagne in their mouths. They bent in order to do so; as they did, the source of all the streams were revealed, for gliding now out from the cake, protruding at all points from the icing, came a series of ersatz cocks. Just when the streams finally began to lessen, the big cock on top blew forth a tribute. It geysered forth like old faithful, offering champagne in such quantity as to make the cocks on the sides of the cake look like pikers. Then the ultimate surprise occurred; the sides of the cake fell open. People rushed back to get out of the way as the pretty cake smashed its sides to the floor. Inside was something even more delicious than the cake nobody had gotten to eat. It was a young girl, perhaps no older than 16, but with a buxom figure as wonderful as that of any woman's in the room. "Here is our treat!" Wesley announced. To everyone's shock, the delightful young girl was covered up to her neck in white icing. There was even a little icing on her cheeks, and in her coiffure, she was covered so generously. Around her neck was a white rope. It ran down between her breasts, insuring that, no matter how slick she might be with icing, she would never be able to get away from the guests. The crowd surged forward. They helped the girl rise and at the same time someone grabbed the rope. Submissively she allowed herself to be yanked out of the collapsed cake. As she was, smiling at the vast amount of attention she was receiving, and from such handsome guests, two men immediately attacked her breasts. They tried to shove her substantial gourds completely into their mouths. The girl gasped a little but didn't resist; Wesley had told her beforehand of the torrent of desire her lovely figure would be sure to unleash. As soon as the girl, who was naked and barefoot, was out of the cake, she was stopped in her stumbling forward movement. With the two men still trying the impossible act of swallowing her breasts, a woman knelt down behind her. Rudely she parted the cheeks of the girl's bottom. She inserted her tongue and began to lick eagerly at the inner cheeks of the girl's behind as the 16-year-old gasped and her eyes bulged. But it wasn't the end; inspired by the successful attacks on her breasts and ass, another woman knelt down in front of her. With an eager tongue she attacked the girl's icing covered pussy. The girl let out a little shout; it was drowned by people crowding around her and licking her wherever they could; her shoulders, her ribs, her belly, her legs, one man now lifting her right foot to suck on her toes. Wesley smiled at Sylvie and Alessandra, who looked on in astonishment. "Help yourselves," Wesley said to the two. "She won't last long." Somewhat reluctantly, but fueled by the excitement of the moment, by the sheer animalistic allure of it, Alessandra and then Sylvie joined in. Alessandra got a leg. As she licked it clean of icing Sylvie, squirming forward, was awarded the plum prize of one of the 16-year-old's tits. It was already free of icing. Sylvie tasted wet flesh, the saliva of the man who had surrendered the tit to her. For his part the man got a treat that nearly topped what he'd just been eating. He went straight for little Sylvie's ass. "YEEEEK!" Sylvie squealed, as she felt an unknown tongue delve into the cream that concealed her furrow. Her ass cheeks tightened at once; trapping the tongue of the lover who was licking her. But he was strong, and impatient. He grabbed Sylvie's legs and yanked them apart. Ignoring her taut little ass, he went straight for her cunt. Sylvie cried out again. Alessandra lifted her head from the leg she was licking, brushed back her hair, then laughed when she saw that Sylvie was now being held aloft, her pretty black shoes not even touching the ground, by the man who was eating her cunt. Hands groped for Sylvie's panties, as they were now groping for any clothing on anyone they could reach. The girl's undies, filled with cream, were yanked down to her thighs so that the man holding open her legs could more easily attack her cherry private. It was a generous gesture, for the hands that pulled Sylvie's panties down were not those of the man spreading her legs or licking her slit. Perhaps the hands that assisted the man licking out Sylvie were those of a woman, for no sooner was Sylvie revealed than a mouth came to the man's cock and began sucking him for all he was worth, even as he attempted to deflower Sylvie with his tongue. But no one could tell without looking, and nobody was bothering to do that, mouths fixed to whatever body parts they could find. The mouth sucking the man may have just as easily been male as female. In a few minutes, the bodies so arduously decorated with cream were licked clean. The same was true of the girl in the cake, who now lay amidst a tangle of limbs outside it, no part of her body touching the floor as she was devoured by many mouths. When she was quite naked, someone took hold of the rope round her neck while someone else inserted himself somewhat painfully into her cunt. She was not virgin, but the entry was quick and the loving was heated; she cried out as she was filled with male seed, even as tongues insured not a trace of icing remained on her body. As soon as one male had relieved his need, another followed. Three men fucked the 16-year-old girl before Wesley called for a halt to give people, especially those most loved, a chance to catch their breaths. And he had one other reason for insisting on a break: little Sylvie was on her knees, about to be impaled from behind, when he saw it and gave her a chance to escape the melee with her cherry intact. When Sylvie stumbled free of the bodies she saw that her aunt had not been so lucky. Or, from another point of view, her luck had been better. She was flat on her back, on the carpeted floor, receiving a cock in her open mouth while a man, lying atop her, gave his all between her splayed legs. "There. It is a pretty sight, is it not?" Wesley asked Sylvie, drifting up beside her and grasping her small little shoulder. The girl jerked, afraid her would bend her right over and make her join her aunt in the sport. But Wesley simply patted her head, as if she were a little kitten or dog, and smiled and remarked on her ass: "It is even prettier without cream hiding it," he said. "You are shameless," Sylvie said, remembering a new word she'd learned in her seventh grade vocabulary class. Wesley laughed. "And you are utterly adorable, especially your bottom," Wesley replied. "I should like to whip it now," he said. He reached down and took the girl by the elbow. Her eyes darted up to him, her neck straining as she looked at him sideways. Her lovely coiffure had fallen apart in the melee and her blonde hair hung in iced strands before her eyes; hiding this satyr, yet leaving her enough visibility to see his wicked smile. "Let us proceed," Wesley said. "I intend you no harm." Like a squire escorting a young lady, Wesley led Sylvie up a curving flight of stairs beyond the party room, up to the second floor of his apartment. Sylvie had no idea why she was allowing him to, except that he was persuasive with his hand on his elbow, both a gentleman and, at the same time, a kind of grinning criminal. The girl found herself led into a sumptuous bedroom. The bed was covered in red satin. Wesley told Sylvie to get on it. "But first pull your stockings taut," he told her. "And don't take off your shoes," he added, as the girl, completely inexperienced in bedroom affairs, made to do just that. When Sylvie had pulled up her stockings, Wesley told her to turn around. Shiveringly, she did so. She was quite naked now, except for her pearls and gloves and what she wore on her legs and feet. He was still in his bathrobe. His cock bumped her bottom. She jerked again, colt-like. He reached around to her front, from behind, and lifted her ball gag. "Open," Wesley said. Sylvie opened her mouth, too young to think he might mean for her to widen the stance of her virgin legs. Wesley fitted her ball gag between her lips. She gagged a little as she felt the big ball depress her tongue. When her mouth was safely secured with the rubber ball Wesley then had her crawl onto his bed. "Hang your head. Offer your bottom to me," Wesley said. He was dissatisfied with Sylvie's posture. As he got a long wooden switch out of a dresser drawer he told her to stick out her ass more. "Be brazen with it," he said. "Act as if you've got something in you and you're trying to poop it out onto the satin bedspread." Awkwardly Sylvie offered herself. Wesley smiled at the glossy cheeks, the way the skin of her ass stretched alluringly, a tight little pair of ball-like cheeks made all the more delectable as she shoved her behind back at him with a kind of ribald innocence. Her fat little ass opened itself as she stuck it at him, showing him her anal dimple within, the lips of her still-virgin cunt stretched sweetly below. There was just a fringe of fur on her cuntlips, she was too young to have to contemplate trimming herself. As for her ass hole, it was completely bare and tiny and sweet; inwardly puckered as if to receive what he was offering between his legs. He would begin with the outer surfaces of her cheeks and then work inward, surprising her with the awful pain of the switch between her bottom crack at the very end, perhaps scoring the tiny anal hole itself, striking it with the whip, cutting into her taut cunt as well. "Are you ready?" Wesley asked, when the girl was shoving her ass at him with as much audacity as a 13-year-old virgin could muster. The girl looked back at him, through her hanging veil of icing mussed hair. Her blue eyes glowed with fright and a kind of eager abandon. Her titties hung nakedly under her, the nipples stiff. "Goo," Sylvie said, having no idea what she was in for, the ball gag in her mouth destroying her attempt to speak. She presented her ass to Wesley as one might offer a present, her slender legs open, her bottom cheeks wide and wiggling a little now, flexing as she contemplated closing herself to his gaze. "Stay just like that," Wesley told her. "No matter how much it hurts." Just then Alessandra walked in the room. Sylvie, on her knees and looking back, blushed. Her thighs nearly snapped shut but by some effort of embarrassed will she kept them open. Her aunt looked at her, the hair on her head disheveled from the melee downstairs and her subsequent fucking. There was male seed running from her cunt and down the insides of her thighs. "Oh! I am just in time for her first time," Alessandra gasped, and blushed a little. "Stand back," Wesley said to Sylvie's aunt. 30 ---------------- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls! ----------------- -- More stories at: http://groups.google.com/ Search by typing: roller666@earthlink.net Click on "Power Search" Change "standard" archive to "complete" archive. -- Other providers: IFLC: http://assm.asstr-mirror.org and http://asstr-mirror.org Anya's Lil' Hideaway: http://www.insatiable.net/ Silver: http://www.mr-yellow.com/goodies The Backdrop Club: http://www.backdrop.com Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated -- Great art books by David Hamilton and Jock Sturges are at: http://www.amazon.com http://bn.com (photos of naked little girls) -- Naked little girls/politics: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com Man/boy love: http://www.nambla.de Politics: http://www.lp.org http://www.isil.org http://www.fear.org http://www.fija.org http://www.aclu.org -- Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 2001 by Andrew Roller. All rights reserved. -- Visit me at: http://home.earthlink.net/files/Authors/Roller/www666/index.html Or at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Roller/www/index.html (It is case sensitive, i.e. type Roller, not roller). -- 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: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+