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From: <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Jack Pack 03/09 {Hoisington} (Mg rom cons ped inc)
Date: Mon, 24 Mar 2003 03:10:04 -0500
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                            JACK PACK
                      by Russell Hoisington

                          Three of Nine
                       The Happy Discovery

     "Oh, DADDY!" Cyndi cried as she humped her aching cunt
against his face.  Jack tried to keep his tongue on her clit as
she, in effect, masturbated with his saliva- and juice-slickened
face.  Suddenly she released her grip on the back of the couch.
Her hands flew behind his head and pulled as if she wanted to
shove his head up her burning little twat.

     Perhaps she did.

     He found her love trigger with his tongue, firmly flattened
it against the hot, hard pebble, and moved it as rapidly as he
could without breaking contact while she violently humped his
face.  His left hand continued to squeeze her small young breast
and pinch its nipple while the other snaked down her body and up
between her taut little ass and his chin.

     She stopped humping suddenly and arched her body until she
was supported by only her feet and her shoulders.  Her entire
body was as hard as a blue-steel boner and as taught as a drawn
bow string.  A bear trap couldn't hold his head any more firmly,
he realized as he continued basting her throbbing clit with his
tongue.  At the same time, Jack swirled a fingertip in the flood
of juices at the entrance of her burning cunt, saturating it
immediately, and then thrust the digit up her squeezing little
love cavern.  She was so full of liquid that he half expected a
splash instead of squishing sounds.  He began moving the finger
in a slow, tight circle.

     Her constricting diaphragm finally forced breath through her
clenched throat, causing a low, guttural moan that grew in
intensity.  Her trembling hands pulled his face harder against
her sopping little cunt.

     Jack knew the right moment from experience.  He pushed his
fingertip against her cervix and began vibrating.  At the same
time, his tongue slipped between Cyndi's clit and cunt lips,
licking along either side before lifting to use the hard little
knob like a punching bag.

     His daughter came with a loud, guttural cry that made Jack
happy that the nearest neighbor was over two miles away.  His
tongue continued its relentless attack of her button, his finger
continued vibrating her uterus, and his hand continued squeezing
her small breast as he realized she must be having the cum of a
lifetime -- one as intense as he'd had that first night he put
his dick between her legs.  Her sweet, sweet cunt squeezed his
finger in rapid pulses.  He didn't stop until she relaxed,
laughed that odd little laugh which indicated she'd had a
satisfying orgasm, and pushed his face back.  His finger received
two final squeezing pulses as the remnants of her orgasm faded.
Her beautiful cunt, ass, and thighs looked as if someone had
poured glycerin over them.  No doubt his face looked the same.

     He left his hand cupped around the warm mound of her
developing breast and his finger deep in her hot, sopping little
cunt.  She giggled a few times, then raised her head to peer
intently at his face, and he knew she was looking for blood.  A
month earlier, while thrashing about, she had slammed her pubic
bone into his nose.  Her frenetic humping and his furious
cunnilingus had smeared the blood from his nose over half his
face, frightening her for a moment when he pulled back from her
little twat.  This time there was no blood.

     "Better?" he asked.

     She gave him an exhausted but happy smile that dimpled her
sweaty cheeks, and then she collapsed back onto the couch.

     "Yeah.  Of course, there's no such thing as a bad cum," she
sighed.  "But THAT one... oh, DADDY!  It was just UNBELIEVABLE!"

     At the instant she was fully relaxed, Jack darted his head
forward and planted a quick kiss on the slimy little clit while
simultaneously squeezing her breast and twirling his finger
around the inside of her hot, flooded hole.

     The little nub instantly sprang erect, pushing between his
lips, and her love tunnel spasmed into a constricting grip around
his finger.  She gasped and arched her back.  <My god!> he
realized.  <She's cumming again!>

     He pushed his lips down around her clit and sucked on it
while rapidly flicking his tongue across it.  He resumed
squeezing the sweet young titty as before, but this time the
finger insider her body began drawing rapid circles around the
cervix instead of vibrating it.  Her steaming little cunt gripped
his finger so tightly that he was barely able to move it.  Then
her orgasm triggered and his finger was treated to eight pulses,
a momentary break, and then three fading constrictions at growing
intervals.

     When he was sure that she was finished, he pulled his face
back and looked at her lying there and panting.  She was as
relaxed as a pile of wet rags.  Fortunately the back of the couch
held her head up because she couldn't have raised it herself.
Her bright brown eyes sparkled with the distinct afterglow of
orgasm.  A tired smile dimpled her round, smooth cheeks.  He had
never seen her so exhausted from sex before.

     Jack smiled back at the most precious thing in his life.
"That's the first time you've ever done that with me," he said,
approval obvious on his face.

     "Oh, Daddy," Cyndi sighed, "that was so cool."  She took in
a deep breath and then released it in a soft purring sound.
"I've never done that before at all.  That was the best cum I've
EVER had in my whole life.  It was just what I NEEDED.  And then
you kissed my clitty -- suddenly I was cumming AGAIN.  Without
warning!  Not as strong, but -- oh, Daddy, it was WONDERFUL!"

     "Well, good, sweetheart," he said, giving her inner thighs a
soft kiss as he gently removed his finger.  The gentleness was
mere habit.  Her sopping little twat was so lubricated that she
wouldn't have been injured by a jerked-out wood rasp.  "I hope it
ended your frustration."

     "Ooooh, yessss," she cooed.  Her smile turned to a slight
frown when she felt the probing finger slide out of her.  "Hey!
I didn't tell you to take that out of there."

     "Well," he said, sucking his finger clean of her juices
while extending his little finger, "I can't very well wear you
like a ring to the shower."

     He started to rise, but she stopped him with a sharp, "Wait
a minute."  He raised an eyebrow in question, and she replied,
"You can't go take a shower now.  You need relief, too.  You
should feel as good as I do!"

     "Honey, I need to go clean up.

     "DADDYYYY," she said in the patient tone that women must
learn from their mothers while still in the womb.  She tried to
look at his crotch, but couldn't see it from her current angle.
She was too exhausted to lift her head and body.  "You can't tell
me that that didn't turn you on.  Don't you have a Mister Woody
now?"

     "Sweetheart...."

     "Yes or no?  I'll see it when you stand up."

     "Well -- yes.  But...."

     "You don't have to MAKE LOVE to me, Daddy," she said in THAT
tone again. "Just have yourself a quickie.  Or do you want me to
suck you off?"

     Jack laughed and kissed her knee.  "Honey, right now you
couldn't suck lemonade through a short straw, and I'm glad of
that.  But I should take a shower before I do anything."

     He reluctantly released his grip on her satiny young breast,
barely the size of half a tennis ball, and flicked his fingertip
across the erect pink nipple.  Though she was exhausted, her hand
moved with the speed of a striking rattlesnake to grasp his
wrist.

     "Keep it there for a minute," she said, a plea in her voice.

     Jack cupped it again.  Her grip remained firmly around his
wrist.  "Seems I can't refuse you, can I, Cyn?" he asked with a
warm smile.

     Her tone turned accusing.  "Seems you're TRYING to!  C'mon,
Daddy.  We both know what will happen.  You'll get in the shower,
and as soon as you start washing Mister Woody, you'll get so
turned on that you'll jack off.  Which do you like better:
shooting it down the shower drain, or shooting it in me?"

     Jack sighed.  Cyndi was just like her late mother:  she only
wanted to argue when she was right and would win.  She had to be
the oldest almost-twelve-year-old in the world.

     She grinned at him and added, "We can shower together after
we fuck.  Or are you to puny and tired to carry a naked seventy
pound girl up a flight of stairs if I can't walk after you ravage
me?"

     He rose on his knees, squeezed her little titty, and kissed
her knee again.  "Okay," he said as he fumbled to remove his yard
pants with his free hand.  "I'll just fuck you like this so you
don't have to smell me."

     Again she gave him THAT look and exhaled in THAT tone, but
she said nothing while he pushed his pants and briefs down to his
knees, freeing him rampaging hard-on.  He scooted forward, lifted
her feet to his shoulders, and pressed the tip of his cock to her
brown pucker.  He then forced her pudgy lips aside with it and
pulled it upward through her warm, sopping slit for lubrication.

     The instant it touched her clit, her eyes went wide.  She
gave her special gasp again as her hands shot overhead to seize
the back of the couch.  Her body stiffened and began to rise as
another moan tried to form in her throat.

     Jack immediately placed his dick against the hot, snug
opening and pushed.  Wet and slick as she was, he still had to
force his way in because her cunt was already spasming with
another orgasm.  She hadn't been this tight during her
pre-pubescent first fuck on her tenth birthday.

     He pushed his way inward as she expanded and held against
expulsion as she contracted around him.  His cockhead came to
rest against the bottom of her hole, and his balls caressed her
sleek, round butt cheeks.  He paused to enjoy the feel of her
little cunt pulsing in waves along the rock-like erection he once
hated for being too small.

     He looked down at the cunt stretched tightly around his
manhood and watched how her internal muscles throbbed her flesh
around it in orgasm.  She was supported by only feet and
shoulders, with all her muscles rigid as the marble he wanted to
have carved to show her forever frozen in this moment.  The erect
pink cones of her nipples, the long curled toes, the face
scrunched up in the almost painful ecstasy of orgasmic release,
the rigid young body just starting to regain its suppleness....

     He did not have time for even one retreat-and-thrust
movement before his own orgasm overwhelmed him.  His own muscles
froze, but his hips retained enough flexibility for him to move
short distances.  He began humping as he fired wads of cum deep
into her belly, shooting until his balls were empty, and then he
continued spasming, feeling as if his dick were trying to draw
ammunition reserves up from his toenails.  The world turned red,
and he was only dimly aware that Cyndi had started yet another
orgasm of her own.

     With his dick slamming into the end of her little vault and
her pussy muscles clamping tight around his raging member, there
was no room in her little twat for his load, even though he was
nowhere near as heavy a cummer as the porn movie studs.  The jism
was smeared onto his dick on the outstroke, and the tight ring of
her entrance skimmed it off on the instroke, creating a white
circle that began oozing down across her pucker-door.

     He heard little more than his blood pounding in his ears,
though he was aware that Cyndi was mixing words with her gasps
and moans.  He understood the word, "Mommy," but the rest was
unintelligible.  Finally the red left his vision, his ears began
picking up the sounds of the rest of the world, and his iron-hard
body began to relax.

     His throat unlocked and he gasped air in great gulps.
Despite the air conditioning in the room, he was as soaked in
sweat as Cyndi was.  He wanted nothing more than to collapse.  On
reconsideration, collapsing became his second priority.  He
wanted to keep his shrinking cock inside his daughter for the
rest of his life.  Unfortunately, a periodic pulse down the
length of her love cave threatened to evict him.

     Sleepy brown eyes under thin brown brows gazed contentedly
at him.  She barely had the strength to dimple her cheeks with a
smile.  "Ohhhh, Daddy!" she sighed in a half-whisper.  "I may
have just had the best fuck I'll ever have for the rest of my
life!"

     "Oh, sweetheart -- I hope you have -- hundreds more -- that
are even better," he gasped.  "But I doubt -- I'll ever have -- a
more satisfying one -- even if it did last -- less than a
minute."  He rotated his head to kiss each of her ankles while
trying desperately to avoid slipping out of her nubile young
body.

     She giggled happily, causing a pussy spasm that squeezed him
from her hot tunnel like toothpaste from a tube.  Her eyes went
wide, then relaxed as his slimy cock wadded up against her
entrance in the flood of hot jism and vagina juice.  He was still
between her fat outer lips, but no longer being squeezed by her
tight cunt.  <Life is good,> he thought.

     He inhaled deeply and sighed.  "I thought for a second there
you were going to cum for a fifth time," he said as he
straightened, releasing her young titty and running his palm down
her smooth, sweaty body in a gentle caress.

     "Sixth."  Slitted eyes below sweat-soaked hair plastered to
her forehead echoed the smile on her perfect mouth.  "You were
cumming so hard that you missed my fifth one.  It was a little
one, but it was still...."  Her face scrunched slightly in
thought, and then she shrugged.  "Wonderful isn't a big enough
word."

     "Some things don't have word, sweetie," Jack said with a
smile.  "I have to read the meaning in your face.  I understand."

     Jack arched his back, stretching, while running his hands up
and down the fronts of her legs.  His dick stayed firmly pressed
against the liquid heat.  When he finished and looked down at
her, she had a serious expression that still bore the marks of
her inner ecstasy.

     "Daddy, can I ask you a question?"

     "Of course you can, sweetie.  And you may, too."

     Her head tilted slightly to the right.  "Daddy, I'm
serious."

     The earnest tone surprised him.  "Cyn, you know that I don't
mind if you ask anything you want, even if it's something I don't
want to answer.  Asking is always okay between us."

     Her eyes dropped to watch her right index finger trace idle
circles just below her ribcage.  "I -- am -- uh...."

     While she searched for words with the right comfort level,
he lightly rubbed the front of her thighs and pressed his left
cheek against her ankle.  When she looked up bleakly, he said,
"Why don't you just ask and I'll assume the most innocent
possible meaning?  Okay?"

     "'Kay," she murmured.  Her eyes dropped to watch her finger
again.  Her chest swelled as she inhaled deeply.  "Did you enjoy
Mommy this much?"

     <Well,> he thought, <that certainly came out of left field.>
"That might be harder for me to answer than it was for you to ask
because it has many answers with different meanings."

     "I'll assume the most innocent possible meaning," she said
in a soft, gentle plea.  "Okay?"

     "Okay."  He marveled that he had the sense not to laugh --
not at her response because he thought it was funny, but at
himself because he had failed to realize how much she was growing
up.  "Yes, I enjoyed your mother very much.  But I can't compare
how I enjoyed her to how I enjoy you.  It just doesn't work that
way."

     Her eyes never left her circling finger, but her eyebrows
twitched together slightly with a frown.  Jack thought for a
second and then asked, "Which do you enjoy better:   Alice in
Wonderland,'" he indicated the television with a jerk of his head
and then realized that the VCR was rewinding, "or chocolate chip
ice cream?"

     She frowned up at him from under her brows as if he actually
had laughed.  He realized that she thought he was making fun of
her.  He kissed her ankle.  "Even though it doesn't seem like it,
your question is very much like mine.  Very much."

     His knees were beginning to hurt, even on the thickly padded
carpet.  With deep regrets, he lifted her legs by her ankles and
pulled back.  His cock stuck for a second like it was glued to
her.  In the right rear corner of his brain the engineer that
never sleeps noted that the analogy was correct:  it was glued.

     He held her ankles together and kissed the instep of each
foot.  Then he collapsed onto his right hip, lowered her feet to
the floor, and leaned against the couch.  He draped his left arm
across her thighs to squeeze her legs to his chest, holding his
most precious treasure to him.

     He looked at her averted eyes.  "You aren't competing with
her memory, honey.  I loved your mother very much, and we had
some wonderful times together.  I love all the times she and I
shared with each other.  But I can still love you and the times
we've had together, too."

     The engineer that never sleeps took over.  "Love isn't a
competition.  It isn't either-or.  It's not like two glasses of
water, where to put more in one you have to take some out of the
other.  Love is like a faucet, where you take both glasses to put
more in each."

     When her expression didn't change, he shrugged.  "I hope I'm
explaining the answer to the right question you meant, and that
I'm not making it worse."

     "I'm not sure what I meant," she murmured.

     He planted a gentle kiss on her stomach, careful neither to
disturb the circling finger nor to tickle her.  "Okay.  How about
this answer.  If your mother were still alive, if I had just done
this with her while you were out at the swimming pool or
wherever, if you and I weren't -- well, having sexual contact; if
all that were reality, then I would love you absolutely as much
as I love you right now."

     The finger froze in place.  "Honest?"

     "I'll swear to that on anything you ask, Cyndi.  Honest."

     Tears brimmed in her sleepy eyes, but her cheeks dimpled
with a smile.  "You're pretty smart.  For a man."

     He squeezed her legs to his chest in a bear hug.  "I
inherited it from my daughter."

     She laughed then, grabbing his head and tousling his brown
hair.  "I love you."

     "I love you, too, sweetheart."  He pulled her knees apart
and craned his neck to peer at the mess smeared around her mound,
her thighs, and the base of her butt cheeks.  "Now it looks like
you need a shower, too.  Why...."

     He tilted his head to look at her mound from different
angles.  "Well, look at this!" he said, sounding as if he'd just
discovered life on Mars.  He skritched a fingertip on her slimy
left lip next to the top of her slit.  "This one's getting a
little darker and thicker.  And I think -- yep.  I believe
there's another one, too."

     All signs of fatigue vanished, the way it could in the
young.  Her body arched forward so she could look.  "Really?  No
kidding?"

     "See?" he asked, trying to lift the hair from the goo with a
fingernail.  "And here?"

     "Wow!" she said.  "That'll frost Megan!"

     "Maybe," he said with a laugh, looking in vain for other new
growth.  "Or maybe hers has started growing, too."

     "No fair," she said with a frown that turned into a grin
when she saw the thickening hair.  "She got boobs first, and hers
are bigger."

     Jack collapsed against the edge of the couch again.  Cyndi
was young, but he wasn't; not with forty just three years away.
"Well, honey," he said squeezing her legs back to his chest as
she reclined, her curiosity satisfied, "she takes after her
mother, just as you took after yours.  Your Aunt Felicity started
growing boobs first, and she's the older one, too."

     Cyndi locked eyes with him.  "Yeah.  By a year, not seven
minutes."

     "Well," he said with a shrug, "your mother's never did catch
up in size or firmness.  But Aunt Felicity's are still...."  He
shut up, too late of course.

     Cyndi had begun brushing hair from her sweaty forehead, but
her hand froze when she realized what he'd almost said.  She
looked at him suspiciously.  "They still what?  Are firm?  How do
you know?"

     His silence while he tried to think of a reply was her
answer.  Her eyes were twin full moons.  "You saw them?  You saw
Auntie F's boobs?  Recently?  When?"

     Jack sighed.  He knew that Cyndi, like her mother, would
pursue a question relentlessly until she had her answer.
Sherlock Holmes and Lieutenant Columbo were amateurs compared to
his women.  "Last time we were there.  She left the bedroom door
ajar when she changed for that trip to Stone Mountain."

     Her eyebrows came together.  "She does that a lot."  Then
they arched as she asked with a tinge of excitement, "Did you
like them?"

     "Well, Cyndi, uh...."

     "DADDYYYY!"  It was THAT tone again.  "C'mon.  You like
looking at other women's boobs, even when they're wearing
clothes.  Did you like Auntie F's?"

     Jack shrugged.  "Sure."

     "Cool!  Have you played with them?"

     "Cyn!  No.  Well, not since I started dating your mother."

     Her eyes narrowed and one corner of her mouth turned up.
"Want to?"

     "She's my sister-in-law."

     "I'm your daughter."  Again she chose to fight with logic
because she was right.

     He'd try some logic of his own.  "She's married to Uncle
Steve.  I can't."

     "What if they were swingers?"  She'd developed a fascination
with swinging over the past year, reading swinger postings on the
internet and asking for amateur swinger videos for their porn
collection.

     He now knew how the trapped criminal felt as Jessica
Fletcher drew her net closed.   "Maybe," he said, feeling that
any answer would be the wrong one.

     "Cool!  I think you SHOULD play some women your own age."

     Jack released the lock around her thighs to again cup her
budding breast in his big hand.  There was almost room for the
other one.  "I love these just fine," he said, suddenly realizing
just how much he DID prefer his almost-twelve daughter's to is
adult sister-in-law's.  She dropped her hand across his and
squeezed it to her with a smile as her nipples suddenly hardened.

     Then the implication struck him.  "Are you saying you'd like
to play around with some boys your own age?"

     She laughed.  "No, silly.  They are so -- so -- immature.
They play games instead of asking for what they want.  If I said
I'd give it to them, they'd probably wet their pants and run home
crying."

     Again she hugged his hand to her.  "I prefer my men to be
men."  She flicked an imperious hand toward the door of the den.
"So, be a man and carry me up to the shower.  I'll wash your
back.  And other things."

     He gave her sweet young titty a gentle squeeze while he
kissed the other one.  They shared a quick kiss on the lips, and
then he stood and lifted her.  The smell of his sweat was almost
overpowered by the joined odors of sex rising from their
crotches.  The mixture triggered a base response in both of them.
She threw her arms around his neck, and her tongue rushed into
his mouth like a soft, sweet, runaway locomotive.  A half-minute
later she sighed and buried her face in his neck as he carried
her from the room.

     He was almost to the base of the stairs when her lips rose
to his ear and, smiling with one corner of her mouth, she mused,
"I'll bet you'd like to play with May's boobs, too."

     He realized that the uncontrollable hesitation in his step
gave her the right answer.  She giggled into the side of his
neck.
- --
Continued in Chapter Four

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