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Message-ID: <46976asstr$1078099804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: gm@mrdouble.com (GM)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 29 Feb 2004 05:01:12 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} SHELLY and JAKE (M/g INC PEDO) PART ONE
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Date: Sun, 29 Feb 2004 19:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The following story depicts explicit sexual contact between adult and
under aged participants. Those offended by graphic descriptions of
pedophilic/incestuous relationships should read no further. This is
entirely a work of fantasy, and does not advocate the abuse of minors
in any way, shape or form. All characters and events represented
herein are completely fictional.

SHELLY & JAKE
BY GM

"You ready yet?"

Jake Blackwood gazed in at his little sister, his tall, lanky figure
slumping against the bedroom door. It was getting on towards
ten-thirty and Shelly was still dawdling about in front of the mirror.
Newly emerged from the bathroom, she stood in the middle of the room,
brushing the knots out of her long, damp hair. Pausing in mid-stroke,
she glanced over to her step-brother, upturning her pretty face to
meet his lazy, rakish smile.

"The party's not `til this afternoon," she replied with a shrug, "I
got ages yet." Her frost-blue eyes were large but unconcerned;
birthdays were no big deal for her. Jake made a big production of
looking at his watch, although his gaze was actually wandering over
her sleek, nude figure. She was ten years old, her body ripening with
the first signs of puberty. Jake's attention strayed down her torso,
taking in her huge, red nipples, her softly pouting labia.

"Gotta be there by twelve," he reminded her, shoving his hands deep
into the pockets of his brown bomber jacket.

"That's plenty of time," she said, unconcerned. Looking back to the
mirror, she raised the brush to her tangled blond locks and resumed
reaming out the snarls. Jake made himself comfortable against the
doorframe, intent on enjoying the show. He hadn't really expected her
to be ready so early in the day; he just wanted an excuse to come
upstairs see her naked. Shelly's body was a thing of exquisite beauty;
soft and lush and ravishingly pure. The sight of her plump little
vulva never failed to arouse him: even now, he could feel his manhood
bulging with anticipation.

He'd been rather fortunate that Tracy Nesmith's birthday party
coincided with his parent's trip to Boston, otherwise they would have
taken Shelly with them. It had been nearly two months since he'd been
left alone with her, and he'd grown feverish with lust in the mean
time. All the same, he couldn't just throw her onto the bed and lay
her like a human sword-sheath. There were certain procedures he had to
follow, protocols he had to observe. Sex was always a complicated
matter, no matter how old the participants. He'd have to be patient,
wait his chance to indulge himself in her tender young girl flesh.

With any luck, he wouldn't be waiting too long.

"What did you get for Tracy?" He asked, studying the bright pink
opening of her vagina. Her cleft blazed like a wild strawberry, poised
and moist and inviting. Jake's breath shortened to quick, shallow
spurts. For a moment, he could almost feel his index finger slipping
over those tightly pursed lips, making her eyelids flicker in
surprise. He adjusted his stance once again, looking for a comfortable
position. Felt like he had a friggin' redwood taking root down there.

"I got her that new Sixties Barbie," Shelly answered, oblivious of his
roving stare, "the one with the knee boots and the rainbow dress."
Silhouetted against the bedroom window, her skin glowed with a subtle
rose hue. Her slim white tummy curved gently at the waist, as smooth
as polished marble. She stepped a little closer to the mirror,
redistributing her weight to her left side. Jake craned his neck for a
better view, noting for the first time that she was still slightly wet
from the bath. A fine layer of mist covered her golden torso,
glittering in the filtered sunlight. A large silver droplet clung to
one nipple, trembling at the very tip.

Meanwhile, Shelly was chirping on about Tracy Nesmith's doll
collection, rolling out an extensive catalogue of every Barbie ever
produced in the history of the universe. Jake wasn't following the
conversation; his attention had been irrevocably diverted. The
nipple-bead filled his entire consciousness. Eyes slitted with
concentration, he drew his tongue slowly across his lips, waiting for
the drop to fall. The suspense was agonizing. It teetered at the sheer
cusp of gravity, suspended by some process unknown to Newtonian
physics. Jake began to doubt his sanity: the droplet seemed to swell
and recede with every breath she took. He wanted to stretch her out on
the bed and close his mouth over that huge, engorged nipple; feel her
gasp and squirm as he sucked it hard between his razor-edged teeth.

I'm going crazy, Jake thought, struggling to control his shaking
hands. His belly was clutching in the throws of a titanic erection.
Cold sweat coated his face, chest and shoulders. The room was full of
her scent, a pungent blend of mint, lavender and pre-pubescent
girl-thing. His eyes darted down between her thighs, seeking out the
source of the aroma. Her pert young pussy was peeling back almost
imperceptibly, the crimson lips glistening with moisture. Jake
clenched his fists inside his jacket, wrestling with his libido. This
was torture. Pure, unqualified torture. If he didn't have her soon -

Shelly winced as the brush snagged a particularly obstinate knot
(owwww!). Jake almost collapsed with relief; this was the excuse he'd
been waiting for. The invitation had been offered - unknowingly, he
suspected - but it had been offered all the same. He had to seize the
opportunity while the door was still open.

"Want me to do that?" Jake asked, modulating his tone to make it sound
like a favor.

"Yeah, OK," Shelly agreed without a second thought. They walked over
to the bed as if by some prearranged signal, where Jake seated himself
with an air of benign indulgence (careful to avoid the party dress and
white cotton panties laid out on the coverlet). His pulse jumped into
overdrive as she padded bare-legged over to relinquish the brush into
his fingers. His weapon was literally pounding in expectation, the
shaft hardening to granite consistency. It took all of his strength to
hold himself in check. He had to take his time with her, proceed with
caution. He didn't want to scare her off, not when she was so near, so
close, so ... available.

Shelly halted a few inches in front of him, turning around to face the
mirror. Peering over her shoulder, Jake studied her reflection,
drinking in her luscious, rounded form. She stood with her hands by
her side and her right foot slightly forward. Her posture was
completely relaxed: Jake had brushed her hair at least a thousand
times before. He was her step brother; this was nothing unusual.

"All right, then," he said, placing a light hand on her waist. Her
flesh felt indescribably smooth beneath his fingertips ...

TO BE CONTINUED.

Feedback to:

gauismarius@hotmail.com

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