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Message-ID: <50833asstr$1112083803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Frank Braun <mazares@hotmail.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 28 Mar 2005 23:47:35 EST
Subject: {ASSM} Story: A NIGHT IN BROOKLYN (M/F, M/f)
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Date: Tue, 29 Mar 2005 03:10:03 -0500
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-- Copyright (C) 2005 by Frank Braun (mazares@hotmail.com) --


A NIGHT IN BROOKLYN


	"I want to fuck your daughter," I said.

	She just looked at me, her watery blue eyes vacant, her tired face 
expressionless, as she sat there on her bed.

	"Then go fuck her." Her voice showed no emotion at all. "Go fuck 
her. And see if I care."

	She laid back down on the bed and closed her eyes. Thirty-five 
years old and still a good fuck if you could keep her sober, but all the 
drugs and the booze had trampled her face over the years and she could 
easily have passed for forty-five at least.

	It was a shame. She'd once been pretty, or so I imagined. The big 
blue eyes, the full sensuous lips, the long blonde hair -- it had 
probably been quite a package once. But she'd fucked it all up and it 
wasn't coming back.

	"You just don't give a shit, do you?" I said. "You think I want to 
keep fucking a boozer in her sleep? I may as well jack off, you know? Is 
this all I get anymore for paying your rent and your bills?"

	"Go fuck yourself," she mumbled, and rolled over on her side, 
pulling a pillow over her head in the process as she drew up her knees to 
a fetal position. The place was a dive, and the room a wreck. So many 
clothes on the floor there was nowhere to walk, a dresser with half its 
drawers hanging open overflowing with still more clothes, and a bed that 
was nothing but a full-size mattress lying directly on the floor.

	Like me, she was wearing only a t-shirt, and horny as I was just 
then, her drunk ass was looking pretty good. I laid down beside her, wet 
my finger in my mouth, then slid it up her cunt. She squirmed a little, a 
half-assed attempt to wiggle away, and I just jammed the finger deeper 
in. I was just about sick of her, and all I felt like doing was 
humiliating her.

	"You know I've had the hots for Tricia for years, don't you? What 
is she -- thirteen, fourteen now?"

	"Fuck off," came the muffled response from under the pillow.

	I pulled out my finger and replaced it with my cock. She growled 
beneath the pillow as I shoved my nine inches all the way in.

	"Such a pretty little face," I said, stroking slowly in and out. 
"And gorgeous little boobs already. And you know what?" I slid out my 
cock, then rammed it back in again as hard as I could. "I'll bet her 
little twat is a hell of a lot tighter than this."

	"You bastard!" she yelled, finally throwing aside the pillow. She 
moved up with a sudden lurch to slide off my cock, and rolled over on her 
back to face me -- at last with a bit of fire in her eyes. "You leave my 
daughter alone!"

	"I might," I said, looking her right in the eyes, "if I thought I 
could get a good fuck out of you."

	She sat up and started to slap me, but I slapped the shit out of 
her first, and she fell back to lie flat again on the bed. I slid back in 
and started fucking her, my whole weight pressed down on her, my lips 
near her ear.

	"I own you," I whispered mockingly. "And I own your daughter, too. 
Don't forget it. And I'm going to fuck you 'til I come, whether you enjoy 
it or not, then you're going to pass out drunk like always, and who knows 
what I might do after that?"

	"Oh God," she whispered, and I could see the abuse was working. 
This woman was one sick puppy, and all it took was a little slapping 
around to get her going. She started bucking up to meet my thrusts, and 
raised her thighs to wrap her legs around my ass as I pounded away in a 
hurry to come and get it over with. "Fuck me," she started moaning, "Fuck 
me and make me come. You can pretend I'm Tricia if you want to, just fuck 
me! Fuck me! I don't care!"

	I couldn't believe she'd said that, and it turned me on like 
nobody's business. I raised up on my hands, pulled out my cock, and 
stared into her eyes. Her expression made it clear she was shocked, even 
frightened, by her own words.

	"Just fuck me," she finally whispered. "Please!"

	I slammed it back in and just held it there, all the way in, while 
she fucked away at it frantically, whimpering and crying like she always 
did when she was about to come. Only when I saw she was just seconds 
away, I started pounding again and this time got it just right. She 
screamed with her orgasm just as my load shot hard and heavy and deep 
into her womb, and her whole pelvis shuddered beneath me as though to 
help suck it all in.

	Then, like usual, she was asleep even before I got off her. All it 
took was that bottle of vodka and a bit of cock to knock her out like a 
light. I went to her kitchen to get a beer, then took it to the window in 
her living room. Flatbush Avenue, nothing but neon lights and ugliness. 
You couldn't pay me enough to live here.

	I'd met her a couple of years earlier in the amusement park at 
Coney Island. I went there now and then to ogle the little girls; on a 
crowded day you could get in some good groping if you knew how to do it 
without getting caught; and believe me, I was a pro.

	So there she was with the kid, Tricia, and quite frankly I noticed 
the kid first. She was a hottie, newly developing, and barely dressed in 
a tube top and tiny cut-off shorts as though proud of her emerging goods 
and ready to show them off.

	I got behind them in line at a hot dog stand and found some excuse 
to start a conversation with Sophie, the mother. She left that day with 
my phone number, called it a day or two later, and all it took was just a 
couple of dates to see she was a drunk, a junkie, dirt poor, and a slut.

	It was perfect. If you're going to rape and pillage, do it among 
the poor. For pennies, you can own them and treat them as you please. 
They can't fight back, or won't, because they're addicted to the cash.

	And tonight, I could feel it, was time to cash in. It had all been 
with Tricia in mind from the beginning, and now I was ready. Whether she 
was or not.

	I went back to the bedroom and found Sophie still sleeping, even 
snoring now, flat on her back with her legs spread just as I'd left them. 
Sometimes I found her pathetic, disgusting, and this was one of those 
moments.

	Back out to the hallway, and I quietly opened Tricia's door. Her 
room was smaller, but even more of a mess than her mother's. Shit was 
thrown all over everywhere, no room to move, and there she was on the 
twin bed mattress in the corner, sound asleep on her belly wearing 
nothing but a pair of panties.

	The room was bathed in red light from the hotel sign next door, and 
I just stood there and stared for a while. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't 
skinny; she had just enough meat on her to accentuate her developing 
charms. Her head, with its shortish dirty-blonde hair, was buried in her 
arms, which were wrapped around her pillow, exposing the side of one 
young, fleshy breast; and her sweet round ass was delectable in its tiny 
white panties.

	My cock was coming back to life already, and I just stayed where I 
was by the door and enjoyed it. It was amazing all I'd gotten away with 
over the years, things most people only dreamed of. And it was all just a 
matter of using my head and keeping my cool. It helped that I didn't look 
like a perv at all, and the trick was simply doing things so outrageous 
they couldn't be believed, and doing them in places where nobody's likely 
to complain anyway.

	The girl stirred in her sleep and I thought she was going to wake 
up. But she didn't. Instead, she just turned over to lie on her back with 
her arms outstretched over her head. Her breasts, which I'd never seen 
before, were beautiful. Just beautiful. Big enough to stand straight up 
and out, but not big enough to fall to the sides like a woman's. And 
sweet pink puffy nipples, just like I liked them.

	Still leaning on the door jamb, I reached down to take my cock and 
stroke it, enjoying the crass obscenity of it all. Some forty-something 
guy with his dick out, jacking off over his girlfriend's naked fourteen-
year-old daughter while the mother sleeps drunk across the hall. It was 
fucking delicious. But it wasn't enough. I wanted it all, and I was going 
to have it.

	Then she woke up. Her eyes fluttered open, her head turned to face 
me, and she sat up hastily grabbing at a sheet to cover her front.

	"What the fuck?" she said. "What're you doing here?"

	"Sorry," I said.

	"And put that thing away." She was staring wide-eyed at my hard-on. 
"What's the matter with you?"

	"Can't put it away," I said. "Got nowhere to put it. Sorry. Your 
mother's giving me a hard time. You mind if I sleep in here?"

	"There's not any room," she said, lying back down and covering 
herself with the sheet.

	"Sure there is. Just scoot over. I'ts not like I'm fat or 
anything."

	She looked at me suspiciously, but didn't say anything. Instead, 
she just moved over to the far side of the mattress, nearly against the 
wall, and just laid there looking at the ceiling.

	"Thank you," I said, and laid down to stare at the ceiling with 
her.

	"Why don't you have any pants on? That's embarrassing, you know."

	"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. It's how I sleep. I'd already gone to 
bed, then your mother started some trouble and I left."

	"She's a cunt," she said, and I was surprised by the language. "I 
don't know why you like her."

	"Not sure that I do," I said. "I just try to help her out. I feel 
sorry for her."

	"You're nicer than she deserves. I don't know why you put up with 
her."

	"It's partly for you. I don't think she could afford to take care 
of you if I weren't helping her out with money."

	"I know," she said. Then she surprised me. She rolled toward me on 
her side and kissed my shoulder.

	"Mmm," I said. "That's what I need."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Affection. It's what your mother won't do for me anymore."

	"You should get away from her," she said, now rolling further to 
lay her arm across my chest. "I wish I could."

	"Maybe you can," I said.

	"How? I'm fourteen years old. I'm stuck here."

	My cock twitched. Already rock-hard, it jumped up another notch. 
Fourteen fucking years old. It was my lucky day.

	"Maybe not," I said. "You could come stay with me in Manhattan."

	"Really?" She sat up in her excitement, and didn't notice or care 
that the sheet fell off her chest.

	"Can you be nicer to me than your mother?"

	"Well of course! That's easy. And I could cook for you. And clean 
house. Anything you wanted!"

	"Then just start by holding me," I said. "Make me feel good. It's 
been a bad night."

	With no hesitation, she kicked the sheet out of the way, rolled on 
top of me, and took my head in her arms.

	"I'm going to be so good to you," she said, and started kissing my 
neck and cheeks with girlish little kisses. She had no idea what her 
fourteen-year-old mound crushing into my hard-on was doing to me. With 
one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, I rolled her 
over onto her back and looked into her excited blue eyes. She was ready 
to do anything I asked.

	I lowered my head to kiss her, and her inexperienced lips didn't 
know what to do. They were tense and hard at first, but then gradually 
they relaxed as I gently pleasured them with my own lips, then with my 
tongue. In a minute's time, she was responding with eager lips and a 
tongue as curious as my own, and with little moans of pleasure as she 
learned the joy of real kissing.

	I realized I'd been grinding my hard-on against her panty-clad 
mound, and that she'd raised her knees and was pressing hard back at me. 
I stopped and drew back, and looked into her face.

	"Has anyone ever kissed you before?" I said.

	"No," she whispered breathlessly. "Not like that."

	"I'm not scaring you, am I?"

	"No," she said quickly. "No. You're making me feel good. And I want 
to make you happy."

	I kissed her again, and she pulled my head hard into her face, 
plunging her tongue deep into my mouth. She was enjoying her new-found 
talent. I shifted my weight to slide my left thigh all the way up between 
hers and to press it against her crotch, and with my left hand began 
gently exploring her breasts. Half baby-fat and half developing boobs, 
they were incredibly soft and firm at the same time, and my cock twitched 
involuntarily as I felt her nipples harden beneath my touch.

	I pulled back from her kiss and moved down to kiss first one, then 
the other of her breasts. With my tongue, I drew delicate circles around 
each of her nipples, then around the outer edge of each breast as she 
pulled at my hair purring and quivering and moaning.

	Slow down, I had to tell myself; make it last. I rolled off her to 
lay on my side, propped myself up on an elbow and looked into her pretty 
face as I stroked her cheek with my free hand.

	"This feels good," she said, her big blue eyes staring into mine. I 
moved my hand down to her baby-fat belly and gently fingered her deep, 
round, perfect navel.

	"Yes," I said. "And it's going to get even better." I slid my hand 
down to fondle the warm, damp spot in her panties, still looking into her 
eyes. She gasped slightly and her eyes grew wider as I probed her soft 
folds through the fabric with my fingers. "Take these things off, would 
you?"

	Obediently, and without hesitation, she reached down with both 
hands to pull at the waistband of the panties, raised her sweet butt up 
off the bed, and wriggled them down her thighs and legs and then off.

	Her little bush was maybe the sweetest I'd ever seen. Thick, dark-
blonde fur in a perfect triangle, but just thin enough to not quite 
conceal her perfect, untouched slit. I had to have my tongue in it.

	I moved down and lightly kissed the inside of her thigh, just above 
the knee, then turned to kiss the other one in the same place moving, 
with my kisses, gradually up the insides of her thighs toward my goal. 
She stiffened as I moved, and her breathing grew fast and shallow, then 
culminated in a kind of surprised whimper when my lips at last arrived at 
her sweet little twat.

	She squirmed as I licked, first, the little valley where one thigh 
met her crotch, then the other one, then she bucked upward with a little 
groan when I finally ran my tongue lightly up the whole length of her 
slit from bottom to top.

	Gently, and in no hurry, I moved up and down her outer lips, 
listening as her breathing turned to little whimpers, feeling as her 
pelvis began to tremble, tasting as her juices began to ooze out and make 
a delicious, slippery mess.

	Gradually I probed deeper, finding her swollen clit with my tongue 
and licking slow, luxurious circles around it.

	"Oh shit!" she said slowly in a whimpering kind of groan, and her 
hips began bucking up to press her new womanhood frantically into my 
face, and she screamed as though with surprise when at last I plunged my 
tongue, suddenly and hard, deep into her tight, virgin cunt and kept it 
there.

	Her thighs clamped shut tightly around my head, and I started 
fucking her slowly with my tongue while my upper lip pressed hard against 
her clit. Her whimpers grew louder, seeming to be nearly crying; I 
grabbed her thighs and burried my face deeper and harder into her sloppy 
wetness and was close to coming myself as she at last came hard with a 
piercing scream and a shudder of the pelvis so forceful I thought she was 
going to break my jaw.

	It seemed a long time that her hips were frozen like that in mid-
air with my face trapped and nearly smothering between her thighs; then 
at last and of a sudden she went totally limp and fell loosely back to 
the bed like a rag doll.

	I moved up to lie on top of her and look into her face. Her 
breathing was heavy and her eyes were wide, seemingly trying to say 
something for which she couldn't find words; and the head of my cock, now 
throbbing with nearly painful desire, was by coincidence pressed up 
against the tight, slippery entrance to her cunt.

	"You know what comes next," I whispered.

	"Yes," she breathed hoarsely. "I want it. I love you."

	"It's going to hurt like a son of a bitch at first."

	"I know," she whimpered. "Just do it. I want it."

	I reached down with my hand to take my cock and rub its head around 
in her juices -- up and down her slit, around her clit in little circles 
-- and she moaned and wriggled around beneath me.

	"Please," she whimpered. "I want it in me."

	Gradually, and as gently as I could, I began trying to work it in. 
She closed her eyes and pursed her lips tightly together as the tip of my 
penis penetrated her lips; then her eyes squeezed tightly shut, squinched 
and wrinkly, as the whole head made it in. Pausing there, I just slowly 
slid the head in and out for a while before trying to go any farther. 
Then another half-inch, and I watched tears ooze out from her squeezed-
shut eyes.

	Another inch, and she screamed with pain, her eyes flying wide 
open. I'd pierced her hymen.

	"I know, sweetheart," I whispered, cradling her face in my hands. 
"It burns like a motherfucker. I know."

	"Just keep going," she breathed, her eyes closing again.

	And I did. And it was killing me. It was all I could do not to come 
already, tight as she was, cute as she was, willing as she was. A real 
peach. At last, I got it all in, and began stroking normally -- all the 
way out, all the way in, taking my time, luxuriating in it.

	I let my mind wander, trying to make it last, trying not to come 
too soon. This was my youngest yet. In my quest to someday fuck a twelve-
year-old, this was the closest I'd come so far. I'd been stuck at fifteen 
for the last couple of years, and now I'd finally made it to fourteen. 
Getting there. Slowly, but getting there.

	And so was Tricia, I realized. She'd gotten past the pain now and 
was raising her hips to meet my thrusts. The tears were gone, replaced 
with a madness in her eyes that frantically and silently said "Fuck me! 
Fuck me!" The child was hooked now.

	I pulled up so I could fuck down instead of forward, which made my 
cock ride her clit as I plunged in and out, and she came unglued. Now she 
was fucking me instead of the other way around, and fucking me fast and 
hard. The sight, in the red neon light, of her sweet little snatch 
gobbling me up, her crazed fourteen-year-old face with eyes wide open and 
seeing nothing, her tongue licking lasciviously at her lips like a 
madwoman, were all sending me over the edge. I was going to blow any 
minute.

	But so was she. She was groaning now, louder and louder as she 
slammed herself harder and harder into my cock, then she exploded into 
screams that I thought were going to bring down the walls or send me to 
jail. With the last long one, she locked up in mid-air again, this time 
with her thighs strangling my waist, and I grabbed the cheeks of her ass 
just in time to feel her whole pelvis start shaking hard with the last 
spasms of her orgasm.

	That was all I could take, and I didn't even wait for her to go 
limp. I pressed her down flat on the bed and started pounding for home. 
It felt like it was boiling up from as far down as my knees, a load of 
cum like I'd never shot before, a fire that consumed my thighs, my balls, 
my angry cock, and here it came.

	As a matter of style or habit or finesse or whatever, I never make 
noise when I come. But I screamed bloody murder as I let this one go, 
gallons of hot heavy cum shot deep in this fourteen-year-old's womb while 
I watched the crazed, wide-eyed smile on her face and felt her fingers 
dig hard into my back.

	My mind went away, and when it came back I was lying on top of her, 
my cock still buried inside her, and I opened my eyes just in time to see 
her suddenly turn her head to my left, to the door. I turned too, and 
saw: Sophie had come staggering in.

	I pulled my cock out of Tricia, rolled off her, and propped myself 
up on an elbow to look at her mother. And it's amazing how the human mind 
can have thoughts about the thoughts it's in the very act of thinking. I 
laid there thinking how good it felt to pull my big old schlong out of 
Sophie's fourteen-year-old daughter while she stood there watching, and 
how deliciously good it felt to even have the thought. It made my hard-
on, which had not really quite gone away, start twitching its way back to 
life.

	"You," said Tricia, a strange calm firmness in her voice -- "you 
get the fuck out of here, you cunt. He's mine now."

	Sophie just stood there, slowly swaying with drunkenness, a very 
confused look on her face. It was as though she knew what she was looking 
at, but was too drunk to understand it. Just for meanness, I bent down 
and kissed her daughter, a deep one with a lot of tongue, and Tricia 
kissed back hard, her arms wrapped tight around my neck.

	Done with that, I rolled around to start to get up, and I still 
don't know how it happened so quickly, right there where I was, and I 
didn't even see it. I had barely got turned back around and there was 
Sophie staggering around with this terror in her eyes, both her hands 
clutching at her throat, and blood pouring out between her fingers.

	Tricia -- beautiful, naked, fourteen-year-old Tricia -- stood there 
with the knife still in her hand and watched as her mother finally 
tripped backward over the mattress on the floor and fell across it, her 
head hitting the wall hard before she came to rest on her back on the 
bed.

	And my cock was still up. Like a rock. It made no sense. Tricia 
dropped the knife on the floor and spoke. Her voice was chillingly 
serene.

	"Well," she said, "that's taken care of. Can we do it one more time 
before we leave?"

	The horrific audacity of it was somehow aphrodisiac, and I had to 
have her again. I moved toward her, took her hands, and pressed her 
backward against the wall. I kissed her, long and deep, with my aching 
hard-on squeezed tight between our bellies.

	"On the bed," she said, pulling free, and I watched as she sat down 
on the mattress beside her mother, then leaned back and opened her legs. 
A trickle of blood oozed from her twat, a souvenir of her first fuck. I 
moved to the mattress and lowered myself to stand on my knees between her 
legs.

	"Sit up," I said. "You're going to learn something new." She looked 
at me with this big-eyed inquisitive look, and I went on. "Take it in 
your mouth."

	Her eyes went to my cock, then back to my eyes, then back to my 
cock again. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue moving slowly back and 
forth along the outline of her upper lip as she contemplated the big 
hard-on in front of her. That look alone made me nearly lose my load. 
Then she sat up and took my cock's swollen head fearlessly into her 
mouth.

	"Careful," I said. "Slow. Gentle. No teeth. And take it as deep as 
you can."

	She closed her lips around it and slowly experimented with sliding 
her mouth down farther and farther onto it -- a half-inch at a time, then 
back, then a half-inch deeper the next time, until she found her comfort 
zone somewhere about halfway down my nine inches. Now she had the knack 
of it, and was dutifully bobbing up and down on it, one hand squeezing 
its base, the other exploring my balls.

	I looked at her dead mother, again trying to make it last. Part of 
me wished she were alive to watch while her daughter blew me; part of me 
was glad she was out of her misery.

	I looked back down at the sweet face I was fucking, and my loins 
started to churn with their next big load. Her nostrils flared as she 
struggled to breathe with her lips locked tight around my cock, and her 
eyes were intent with her obvious desire to please me, to prove herself.

	And here it came. I took hold of her head to keep her in place as 
my cum swelled up and burst out into her mouth. Her eyes grew huge as she 
struggled to take it all in without gagging, then finally she had to back 
off it, and she suddenly found herself near choking with a mouthful of 
cum.

	Reflexively, she turned to spit it all violently out -- and it flew 
all over her mother's face. She coughed once, then she giggled.

	"Bitch," said, choking, then giggled again.

	I grabbed her head, shoved my cock back in her mouth, and fucked 
her face until the last of my come was spent. Then I laid down beside 
her, worn out. She laid down to snuggle close to me, and I pulled her 
face to mine and kissed her, the taste of my cum still strong in her 
mouth. This child was so eager to please, and I was touched by it.

	"Are we going to Manhattan now?" she said.

	"Yeah," I said, dragging myself up from the bed. "I'm going to go 
find my clothes. Why don't you get dressed and get everything together 
that you want to bring with you."

	She jumped energetically to her feet and kissed me again.

	"Won't take a minute. I promise."

	"Take your time," I said. "In fact, why not take a shower first? 
We're not in any hurry."

	"Ok," she said obediently, and bounced out into the hallway then 
into the bathroom.

	I went to Sophie's room, located all my clothes, and started 
dressing. Then Tricia's voice rang out from the bathroom.

	"Can I take my CD player?"

	"Sure," I said. Once my shoes were on, I went to the kitchen and 
got a beer.

	"Will I have my own closet?"

	"Yep," I said, "your very own closet. I thought you were taking a 
shower."

	"I am. In a minute." I got there just in time to see her wipe her 
twat with a wad of tissue then flush the john. "Had to pee first."

	I watched her sweet little ass as she bent over to turn on the 
water, then watched her disappear behind the shower curtain. This was 
going to be one of the hardest choices I'd ever made. I was crazy about 
this girl.

	I went back to Tricia's room and looked at Sophie. The whole front 
of her tee shirt was soaked with blood and her eyes were wide open, 
frozen forever in that look of drunken confusion. I figured she was 
probably dead even before her head hit the wall.

	I poured down a bunch of the beer, then went back to the kitchen 
and finished it off. The sound of the shower was hypnotic in the 
background, and I could hear Tricia humming cheerfully through it.

	Back out in the living room, I unlatched the front door and opened 
it.

	"Do I have to go to school?" came Tricia's voice suddenly.

	"No," I said, "Not if you don't want to."

	"You are so cool!"

	I slipped out into the hallway and closed the door noiselessly 
behind me. Then down the stairs and out into the street. Flatbush Avenue 
or not, the air smelled good. Real good. Dead drunks start smelling bad 
faster than other dead people.

	Two more minutes, and I was in the subway station; another minute 
after that and I was on the train headed home. The car was half empty; 
everyone in it sat around with their minds in other places, and nobody 
knew or cared where I'd been or what I'd been doing. Nor even who I was. 
It's what I loved about New York. It was easy to be anonymous, invisible, 
get away with anything.

	Brighton Beach. That's what I'll do. Next weekend. Brighton Beach. 
Hundreds of cute little Russian girls with their parents nowhere to be 
seen. Maybe I can bump it down to thirteen.

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