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From: ltlgrl69@webtv.net
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Subject: {ASSM} "A WEDDING STORY: The Flower Girl" Ch. 3 Part 1 (Mg, inc, cons)
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Date: Thu, 28 Jul 2005 15:10:01 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Avertissement: The following story is fictional and includes scenes of
pedosexual incest involving an older male and a young girl. If it is
illegal to read in your part of the world sil vous plait do not risk
anything by reading this story.
If you think you can get away with it, have at it. N'cest pas?

Déni: The characters in the following story in no way resemble anyone
in real life, nor do the places, events, and objects correspond with
anything in the real world. The characters are trained professionals and
their actions should not be attempted in your home.

Remarques: This Chapter 3 has been a long time in coming, pardon the
pun. Literally a year or so has gone by since the inception. I've tried
to keep the narrative flow of the story intact but you may notice cracks
in the armor along the way. I apologize for those. Also, as before,
there is basically no sex per se in this chapter, although there is
sexual action. It is a slow-moving tale of seduction, and as such will
progress slowly. Seduction by whom, you might ask? Perhaps a little bit
from both characters.

Won't you please take a moment and read Chapter Three and find out where
it takes you? Thank you. Merci. Adieu.


A WEDDING STORY: The Flower Girl

by ltlgrl69

(Mg, inc, cons, slow, uncle/niece, mast, oral)

Chapter Three:  Part 1

L'Eglise et la Cérémonie (French)
The Church and Ceremony


I checked my watch and saw that it was almost 10 of 5. I had 10 minutes
to get Tracy, my six-year-old niece, the Flower Girl for my sister's
second wedding, to the church on time.
If I screwed this one simple thing up, that was, taking my niece for her
Flower Girl dress at the French Dress Shop and getting her back in time
to be part of the Wedding Party, I'd never hear the end of it from my
sister, Heather, whom I loved dearly, but she can sometimes be, well, a
bit of a bit-

(You probably thought I was going to call my sister a bitch, didn't
you?)

-ter person if you got on her bad side.

(I would never call my sister a bitch...that is, if she's within
earshot.)

No, I simply had to perform this simple task without disgracing myself
and bringing shame to our parents' name. Better said than done, eh?

I was attempting to make a left turn at the intersection -

(I say attempting because at the very moment I was turning two vehicles
were blocking the intersection and their occupants were currently
leaning out their windows and cursing each other in foreign languages,
neither of them understanding what the other was saying and thus not
making any headway.)

-- when my niece pokes me in the arm and says,

"Where ya goin', Uncle Frank?"

"Um, to the Church," I told her, as if she hadn't a clue why she was
dressed in a handmade formal dress and shoes.

"But the Church is that way," Tracy said, pointing out her window.

"No, it's this way," I told her, indicating the direction I was trying
to turn.

"That's the way home," she said, in a voice which contained both the
wariness of defying an adult's point of view and the smugness of
knowing that she was right.

"Uh, um, are you sure?" I asked her, not wishing to accede to her
knowledge of directions over me.

"Duh!" she said, in a typical six-year-old's response.

I looked at my watch again. Five of Five. Not good. I had no time to
debate my niece. The drivers of the blocking vehicles were now halfway
out of their windows and their fists were balled up and each was
shouting their curses and epithets as if that would make their language
easier to understand.

I turned right.

Muttering under my breath I drove slightly faster than the posted speed
limit. 50 in a 25 mph zone. Add that to the fact that my niece was again
not buckled up as required by law and I was looking at a hefty fine if I
was to be stopped. Well, rather that than my sister the b-

(Don't think it!)

-itter person's wrath.

"You're going awfully fast, Uncle Frank," Tracy said to me as we whizzed
by a line of parked cars.

"Am I?" I asked, quizically, as if I was asking her if I was and not
just being rhetorical.

"Faster than that car behind us," she said, turning her head to look out
the rear window.

I glanced up into the rear view mirror and that's when I noticed the car
behind me. Looming in the distance but slowly gaining on me.

(Hey, maybe he was late for a wedding too!)

I looked in the rear view mirror again and the car was considerably
closer. Something flashed in my eyes and then disappeared. Flashed
again, and disappeared. The car was right behind me now and I spotted
the big red light on top of the car's roof. Spinning. Spinning and
flashing.

Oh shit.

"Who's that, Uncle Frank?" Tracy asked me, looking back at the police
car behind us.

"It's the police, Pumpkin," I told her. "When they flash us like that
they don't want to be friends."

I slowed down but there was no place to pull over. Both sides of the
one-way street were full of parked cars. At the end of the block I
pulled off to the side, the police car edging in behind me.

"What's wrong, Uncle Frank?" my niece asked. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, Pumpkin," I lied. "But this will certainly make us late."

I lowered my window and watched in the rear view as the policeman
climbed out of his car and walked purposefully up to the side of my car.

"License and registration, please," he said in a purely authoritarian
voice.

I fumbled for my wallet and pulled out my driver's license. I handed it
to him through the open window and then went to get my registration
which was in the glove compartment.

I reached across Tracy's lap and opened the glove box. I fished around
in there and naturally everything inside the glove box was scattered to
hell and back so I had a hard time finding my registration. I pulled out
some papers and they fell from my grasp down onto the floor underneath
Tracy's hanging feet. I leaned forwards even more and felt around the
floor for the dropped papers. As I did this, my arm rested against
Tracy's legs. I felt the material of her white tights rub over my bare
arm and when it did I felt that tingle again that I had felt back at the
Dress Shop when I had seen my niece in just her panties. It felt kind of
nice.

I picked up the fallen papers and as I was bringing them up my hand
passed by Tracy's shoes and I bumped her feet and I looked down when I
did that and saw that my niece's shoes were hanging off of her feet
exposing both her heels. She must have been sitting there on the car
seat, her small dainty feet hanging above the floor, making her slip-on
shoes come off of her heels, as little girls sometimes do. I looked at
her exposed heels for as long as I dared, mesmerized by their softness
and sexiness, before sitting up straight again.

I sorted through the papers in my hand and pulled out my registration
and handed it to the policeman.

He eyed the two documents and while he did I looked back down at my
niece's feet and saw that she was now making her shoes flop back and
forth on her toes, making the backs of her white shoes slap against the
heels of her tights-covered feet. This innocent action excited me, and I
felt my penis begin to grow hard in my pants.

Oh shit again!

If the policeman noticed my erection (seeing as how he was standing over
me and had a perfect view at my crotch) who knows what he would think.
Me with an erection and a six-year-old girl in the car. What's up with
that?

I looked away from my niece's foot display and back up at the cop.

"Mr. Callahan, do you know why I pulled you over?" the cop asked me.

(Hey, buddy, listen, if you don't know and you're the cop, why are you
asking me?)

"Um, I'm not really sure," I answered, hoping that stupidity wasn't a
crime in this state.

(In some states it is, you know. Yeah. Little known fact.)

"Well, sir, you were doing 54 in a posted 25 mph zone."

"I was?" I added just a hint of incredulity to add to my "stupidity"
defense.

"Yes, sir, you were."

A monotone voice throughout.

"Your passenger is under the age limit and should be buckled up, as
required by law," he continued.

(I knew that would come back to haunt me!)

"Your passenger should also, as required by law, be buckled up and in
the back seat."

(Oh. Anything else, Officer?)

"You, the driver, are required by law to be buckled up."

(Oops. I forgot that one. I'll give him that.)

"But, the main reason I stopped you, Mr. Callahan, was that you were
driving the wrong way down a one-way street."

That one stopped me. Damn. I was?

I looked over at Tracy as if to say 'hey, you're the smart one at
directions why didn't you tell me I was driving the wrong way down a
one-way street?'.

"Sir?" the policeman said to me and I looked back up at him, clearly
flabbergasted.

"I'm very sorry, Officer," I began, "I don't know what I was thinking.
You see, we're late for my sister's wedding and I kind of got lost and
we were already running late and if I don't get my niece here to the
church on time my sister will absolutely cut off my balls!"

Tracy gasped at my last four words and then began to laugh. My face
burned red but what I told the policeman was the truth.

(Listen, Officer Joe, just write me the ticket and let me go on my way.
I don't want to be any later than I am now.)

"That's no reason to be endangering your niece or other people's
property," the cop monotoned.

"I understand that, Officer," I said. "Please, I'm sorry and I promise I
won't do it again."

(Yeah, as if he hadn't heard that a million times before!)

The policeman stooped down now and peered in over at my niece. Tracy
looked back and smiled an award-winning smile at the policeman. He
straightened up and handed me back my driver's license and car
registration.

"Mr. Callahan, please, protect your loved ones from now on. And obey the
posted speed limit signs, sir."

"Uh, I will, Officer. Um, thank you!"

He walked back to his car and climbed in, started it up and drove past
me. Tracy waved to him as he passed and he waved back.

"Thanks a lot, Pumpkin!" I said to my niece.

"For what, Uncle Frank?" she asked.

"For being beautiful," I told her, and she just smiled at me.

I looked at my watch. Oh shit. Quarter after five.
Late late late. For a very important date.

(I felt somewhat like the frenzied white rabbit from the Alice tale. I
also felt like the Jack of Hearts who was about to lose his head. Only
in my case what I was about to lose was a few feet lower.)

I looked back down at Tracy's hanging feet and saw that she had slipped
her shoes back on her small feet and that was the end of the show.
I started the car and drove off, heading for the church, praying that
somehow, someway, the reprieve I got from getting the ticket would
somehow extend to my lateness to the wedding.

(Ah, who was I kidding? I was a dead man. A dead, ball-less man.)

Ten minutes later, (it took that long because I was obeying the posted
speed limit signs which sucked) I was pulling into the parking lot of
the church. I parked illegally (ha, you'd think I would learn my lesson)
near the back door and my niece and I climbed out of my car. I chose not
to lock my doors for fear of repeating the scene from in front of the
Dress Shop.

(Stupidity has a way of repeating itself. History does, too, but I'm
more concerned with me at the moment, thank you.)

I thought I was going to hear church music playing which meant that we
had gotten there right in the middle of the ceremony but as Tracy and I
entered the vestibule in the back I heard nothing. No sound at all.

(Shit a third time! Were we even at the right church?)

I ushered my niece through the vestibule and into the nave. There, I saw
some of my family pacing back and forth. Were they waiting for me? Oh, I
was really cooked. Well done, too.

I walked up to my mother who saw me and I was expecting the worst but
all she did was give me this look that said 'thank god you're here but
we have more important things to worry about'.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked.

"It's your sister," she said, deadpan.

"What is it, Mom?" I asked, concerned now.

"She won't come out of the bathroom," my mom told me.

"Uh, because of, um, me? Because we were late?"

"No, that's not why. I don't even think she knows you didn't get here
until now," my mom told me.

(Ah, a reprieve after all. Thank you, God.)

"What's up with her, then?" I asked.

"I don't know. She won't say, Frank. The church guests have been waiting
for a half hour now. What do I do? What do I tell them?"

"What about Jim? Has he spoken to her?" I asked.

"He's tried. But she's not answering him."

"Want me to give a try?" I offered.

"You can try, Frank, but I don't know --"

I walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly on it. No one
answered.

"Heather? Heather, it's me, Frank. Um, what's up? You've got a lot of
people waiting out here for you. Are you okay? You're not sick, are you,
Heather?"

Silence. Then, "I'm scared, Frank," my sister said, between sniffles.

"Aw, Heather, there's nothing to be scared of," I said. "You've been
through this before, sis.
Nothing to it."

"That's just it, Frank. I've been through this before and I'm afraid
that the same thing's going to happen that happened last time."

"Well, sis, I'm not going to tell you that it won't but I will tell you
that Jim loves you very much and I just don't see him doing that to you.
I had a bad feeling about the last one but I didn't want to tell you
because you're my sister and I love you and I just wanted you to be
happy."

Silence again. More sniffles. Silence.
"Frank?" I heard my sister softly say through the door.

"Yeah, Heather?"

"You'll tell me if you get a bad feeling about Jim, won't you?"

"You'll be the first to know," I told her.

"Frank?"

"Yeah, sis?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, sis. Now come on out. You're about to be married."

The door opened and my sister walked out, drying her eyes. She hugged me
and I felt a rush of love for her I never felt before.

Okay, maybe she's not such a b-

(Wait for it...)

-itter person after all.

She saw Tracy then and began crying all over again. She said that Tracy
looked absolutely beautiful and that I did a wonderful job with the
dress and I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was all due to the
French lady and that all I managed to do was get into one predicament
after another so instead I smiled and told my sister to go get married.

The Wedding Party was assembled and Tracy took her place at the head of
the line. I waved at her and she waved back, gave me a great big smile
and I exited the nave and carefully made my way out into the church
proper where I took a seat in the first pew on the bride's side.

I sat down at the far end of the pew away from the aisle. I wanted to be
as unobtrusive as possible. Maybe no one would see that I had gotten
there late. I was set. I was settled. I was sitting.

Let the ceremony begin.

I had just settled into the pew and had finally relaxed enough so that I
could actually breathe the oft-heard-of sigh of relief when the opening
strains of "Wedding March" resounded throughout the church. I heard
whispered invectives from behind me expressing dour satisfaction that at
last the ceremony had begun. Weary sighs and groans accompanied these
epithets as the church's pipe organist segued into the full-on
ballustrade of Mendelssohn's opus.

The assembled congregation stood and turned towards the center aisle.
Down at the other end of my pew stood my parents, looking obviously
relieved that their only daughter, my sister, was finally to be married
after all. Crisis averted.

(Now their only other worry was that their only son should get married.
Me, in other words. Not likely. Sorry, mom and dad. Best wish for
something more attainable such as world peace.)

The first member of the wedding party to appear was my lovely little
niece looking most adorable in her Flower Girl dress of French design.
She carried in her folded hands a small
basket of flowers --

(What else would a Flower Girl be carrying, after all?)

-- and was staring straight ahead as she approached the steps leading up
to the altar.

She stopped in front of the bottom step where the Minister stood flanked
by my soon-to-be brother-in-law Jim and three of his best mates. Tracy
waited as the three other bridesmaids walked up the center aisle to
stand right behind her. At the Minister's nod, Tracy and the bridesmaids
fanned out to the left, towards the bride's side of the church, where I
was seated, and the music crescendoed and suddenly as if on cue my
sister appeared in all her finery and glory.

It was time.

The music stopped abruptly and the Minister raised his arms and in a
movement reminiscent of a shepherd and his flock bid us be seated. It
was almost awe-inspiring.

While the Flower Girl and bridesmaids fanned out to the left the Best
Man and Groomsmen fanned out to the right. Tracy was the last in the
line and was directly in my line of vision. Her back was to me but I
could see all of her body standing there. My mind flashed back to the
dress shop and what I had seen. My niece in just her panties.   I
found myself visualizing what she looked like underneath her gorgeous
Flower Girl dress at the present time. Panties, of course, but panties
underneath a pair of white tights. Stretchy elastic white tights that
probably hugged her cute little six-year-old butt cheeks tightly. Cute
little butt cheeks that I just wanted to...

(By the Gods, man, you're in church, get a hold of yourself!)

I snapped back to reality and realized that my sister and her future
husband had made their way up onto the altar to stand before the
Minister, who was now intoning the religious ceremony celebrating the
union of a man and a woman in the sacred bonds of Holy Matrimony.

(And if Jim, my future brother-in-law, broke any of those bonds I'd be
right quick about breaking his neck!)

As Weddings go, this one was pretty much on a par with most others.
Except for the fact that this particular Minister had decided somewhere
along the way to lengthen the already-lengthy ceremony by interspersing
his own innocuous and banal-but-well-meaning thoughts and ideas on the
entire concept of marriage.

(Whatever happened to "Do you?" "I do!" "Do you?" "I do!" Congrats all
around, you're married, now kiss?)

But really, what was the rush, after all? I was sitting down, my duties
for the day fulfilled, looking forwards to the Wedding Reception later
on this evening --

(Which at the rate this ceremony was moving we might finish up just in
time to cut the cake!)

-- where hopefully I'd be enjoying myself at the glorious Open Bar,
suggested by me in the pre-Wedding planning phase and opposed by only
one or two naysayers, those two people being my parents, seeing as how
they were footing the bill.

As the Minister droned on my mind wandered again, the way it always does
when I'm bored, and it wandered right on over to where my niece Tracy
was standing oh-so-patiently while the ceremony dragged on.

I gazed at her shoulder-length blonde hair which gently kissed the
neckline of her Flower Girl dress. The curls along the bottom of her
golden tresses curled upwards and bounced lazily as she shifted her
weight from one foot to the other as she stood there idly. I followed
her white dress down the back to her feet where I could see her ankles
below the hem of the dress. I could see the bony protrusion of her ankle
bone jutting out covered by the white tights she was wearing underneath
the garment.

My eyes dropped lower and I fixed upon her shoes. Shiny white patent
leather shoes shining brightly in the well-lit church. I watched as she
shifted her weight again, balancing herself on one foot so as to relieve
the pressure of standing so long in one position without moving. I
recalled the scene in the car when I was looking for my registration in
the glove compartment and I had witnessed my niece's shoes slipping off
of her heels as she rocked her feet up and down while they were hanging
off of the car seat.

I was envisioning that very image and trying to make sense of why that
particular moment had made my cock hard when I noticed movement from my
niece's foot. I regained my focus and saw that Tracy had shifted her
weight yet again and set it all on her left foot. This freed up her
right foot and I saw her lift it up in the back, raising the heel of her
shoe up in the air. Then, just as quickly, I saw her push back on her
shoe and watched as the shoe came away from her foot and her heel was
exposed. Her heel covered by her white tights.

I was instantly mesmerized. And I didn't know why.

Tracy eased her small dainty foot out of her shoe halfway, resting the
bottom of her foot on the back edge of her white dress shoe. I could
almost see her toes. I felt my cock begin to fill with blood and my
first thought was --

(News @ 11: Lightning Bolt Kills Man in Church; Man had Erection at Time
of Death)

-- oh no, here we go again. Why am I so turned-on by my six-year-old
niece? First by seeing her in her panties, then by seeing the
tights-covered heels of her feet in the car, and now by seeing part of
her foot in white tights and sliding out of her shoe. Why?

Before an answer could form itself in my head my niece slipped her foot
back into her shoe and shifted her weight again and this time slipped
her foot out of her left shoe and let it rest there on the back of her
shoe. Her heel looked pink through the white tights. Pink and soft. And
cute.   And adorable. And I wanted to kiss her heel. To lick it. To
kiss and lick over her entire tights-covered foot. To...

(Mayday! Mayday! Senses overloaded! Blood loss in upper extremities! Too
fast! Too fast!)

I didn't even know what was happening around me. On the altar. Not
anywhere. I was fixated on watching my niece play with her shoes. My
cock was fully erect and I was glad I was sitting down. I was also glad
that I was sitting at the far end of the pew and not right next to my
parents. I was completely zoned in on Tracy.

At one point she moved her entire foot to the back of her shoe, placing
the bottoms of her small toes on the top of back, and pressing down
which caused her dress shoe to fall over sideways and off of her foot.
Without looking down at her feet Tracy fished for the lost shoe with her
tights-covered foot until her toes found it and then she used her toes
to right the shoe and slipped her foot back into it, standing up
straight once again.

Such talented toes, I thought to myself. I wonder what else they could
do? I found myself imagining my niece's six-year-old toes running along
the length of my --

(SOS! SOS! Send in the Cavalry! This man's completely lost it! We need
to be saved!)

The sound of music brought me to my senses and I realized that the
ceremony was over. We were standing, and I automatically stood up with
the rest of the congregation temporarily forgetting that I still had an
obvious erection.

We all turned sideways again and faced the center aisle and just as my
niece and the bridesmaids turned to re-join the Wedding procession I
remembered my hard-on and quickly bent over at the waist, attempting to
hide my erection. But thankfully no one was looking in my direction. I
was safe. For now.

I watched the Wedding Party stroll down the aisle and when the music
stopped I sank to the pew with a sigh of relief. Again. But this time it
was a different kind of sigh of relief.

(There are many kinds of sighs-of-relief, you know. Don't believe me?
Look it up.)

I was trying to mentally will away my erection when I sensed movement
coming towards me.
I looked up and saw my mother walking my way. I grabbed a hymnal from
the slot in the back of the pew in front of me and placed it on my lap.
Anything to hide my arousal.

"Are you coming out front of the Church?" she asked me.

"No, I don't think so. I hate all the hustle and bustle of the crowd
after Weddings. I'm just going to stay here and relax."

"All right, Frank. And thanks again for helping with your sister. Who
knows what we would have done without you."

"Not a problem, mom. I'll see you back here when they come back for the
church pictures."

My mom re-joined my dad and they followed the stragglers down the aisle
and out the doors to where by now pandemonium was going on. Pandemonium
that I didn't wish to be a part of at all.

The church was quiet now. All the noise was outside for the time being.
I sat there alone with my thoughts. My erection slowly dissipated and I
replaced the hymnal back in its slot. I pondered the meaning of it all.

(No, not the meaning of life. Although that was a good, funny movie. No,
rather, the meaning of my sudden attraction to my niece.)

I wasn't one of those pedophiles. I wasn't a child molester. I wasn't a
little girl lover. Was I?

(It would explain a lot. Especially the part about why I'm still not
married at 45.)

My feelings were confusing to me. I loved my niece without a doubt. She
loved me and she trusted me. If I were ever to do anything to her then
that trust would be broken. Unless...

...unless she started something.

That was ludicrous. A six-year-old child thinking sexual thoughts. I
don't think so.

And yet I hoped so... Deep down inside me...


(to be continued in Part 2)


ltlgrl69


J'aimerai un 69!
J'adore les petites filles, et vous?
Bonne nuit,                  ltlgrl69

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