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Subject: {ASSM} "A WEDDING STORY: The Flower Girl" Ch. 3 Part 2 (Mg, inc, cons)
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Date: Thu, 28 Jul 2005 15:10:02 -0400
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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 2

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


(continued from Chapter Three: Part 1)


The church was quiet inside. Quiet as a --

(Well, what else would you expect?)

-- church mouse.

(Although what they have to be quiet about I'll never know. It's not
like they're affiliated.)

Every so often I could hear the hurrahs of the crowd gathered out front
of the church as the new bride and groom made their way through the
obligatory picture-taking session. I found myself wondering what my
niece, Tracy, was doing while all this was going on. Was she in the
pictures as well? Or was she off to the sides, standing or sitting while
waiting to be called to pose? And if she was standing or sitting, was
she once again slipping her foot or even both her tights-covered feet
out of her pretty white dress shoes? And damn it, if she was doing that,
then why the hell was I in here and not out there watching her doing
just that?

(Oh, that's right...I hated pandemonium. I'm not too fond of geraniums,
either.)

I passed the time thinking about the reception tonight. Open bar, music,
food, dancing, loud talking, crowds of people...in short, pandemonium.

(But this was controlled pandemonium...I could deal with controlled
pandemonium.)

I thought of the fun I was going to have at the reception and my
thoughts whittled away the minutes and before I knew it I heard the
ornate church doors open followed by frenzied shouting and clamoring
voices coming up the aisle. The pandemonium was moving inside now it
seemed.

My sister and her new husband were being escorted briskly towards the
altar by a man walking backwards in front of them with at least 5
cameras hanging around his neck and waist. He was snapping pictures of
them as he walked almost delicately backwards. I was amazed that he
didn't trip even once. When he backed into the bottom step which led up
to the altar he finally stopped. I looked around for the source of the
clamoring but all that were present were the wedding party and my mom
and dad.

Perhaps the crowd noise outside had escaped indoors temporarily as the
church doors opened.

(Thank God for small miracles. Oops, can I say that in here?)

The photographer was giving the happy wedded couple instructions now and
I saw my mom and dad take their place once again at the other end of the
pew I was sitting in. I was still farthest away from the aisle, sitting
on the end by myself next to the western wall of the church proper. I
was looking towards the altar when suddenly I felt a hand touch my
shoulder. I jerked my head around to the left and there stood my niece,
Tracy, resplendent in her white Flower Girl dress.

"Did I scare you, Uncle Frank?" she asked, a smile forming on her
beautiful six-year-old face.
"Just a little," I said, returning the smile. "I didn't even hear you
walking up behind me."

"How could you with all the yelling going on?" she said.

"How was it out front?" I asked her.

"Loud and boring."

"I'm sorry. But you were in some of the pictures, weren't you?"

"A few. Most of the time I just stood around watching everybody else do
stuff. How come you didn't come out front with everyone else?"

"I didn't want to be a part of that mess."

"Too bad. You could have kept me company."

My mind went back to the image of my niece standing out front off to the
side playing idly with her shoes. Damn it, I should've went out with
her.

(Oops, can you swear in church? Isn't that a sin? Will I be smote, now?
And what's it like to be smote? It doesn't sound that bad.)

"Uncle Frank?"

My niece's voice was concerned. I looked at her.

"I was asking you if I could sit with you while they take the pictures
on the altar of mom and my stepdad. Didn't you hear me?"

"Uh, no, I, I was thinking of something else at the time. Sorry. Don't
they need you up there for the pictures as well?"

"Nope. They said I was done. Until tonight at the reception."

"All right then, come on in and have a seat, my dear."

I stood up and let Tracy squeeze past me into the pew. Her dress rustled
against my arms as she passed and it felt quite soft and silky. She made
her way past me and sat down next to me on the pew. I seated myself
again and found myself a little nervous being this close to my niece.
What with my new feelings for her I found it difficult to relax. I
looked down and saw her feet resting on the kneeler that was currently
in the down position. If the kneeler
had been folded up her feet would have been dangling off the end of the
pew as her legs would have been too short for her feet to touch the
floor.

Maybe that was for the best, because if she were to start making her
shoes come off of her tights-covered feet again I'd probably end up with
another erection and then who knows what would happen.

Tracy and I watched the goings-on up on the altar as the photographer
went through the usual poses. Documenting this event for all time. For
posterity. For remembrance.

"Did you see me there during the wedding?" Tracy asked me, pointing
towards the spot where she stood while my sister was being married.

"Yes I did," I told her. "You looked very beautiful up there in your
dress."

"Thank you."

"The prettiest girl in the church," I added, smiling, and meaning it.

She didn't respond but she looked at me and a slight smile played on her
lips. She turned her head back to watch the action on the altar.

A few minutes later my niece turned to me and said,

"Uncle Frank, can I sit on your lap?"

I was taken aback. Where did that come from?
But then I realized there was nothing inherently wrong in my
six-year-old niece wanting to sit on my lap. I was her uncle and she
loved me. Just because I was having disturbing feelings about her didn't
mean I had to divest myself of her.

(Did it?)

"Uh, yeah, sure, Tracy, if you want to, honey," I said, unsure of
myself.

She smiled and climbed over onto my lap. My legs were together so she
straddled my lap, each of her legs hanging down on either side of me.
Her Flower Girl dress rode up a bit but since it was an ankle length
dress it only rode up to slightly above her knees. But that was torture
enough for me.

I stared hard at her white tights-covered knees sticking out from the
bottom of her fancy dress.
Soft-looking, squarish and slightly bony knees peeked out at me. I
glanced down on either side of me and could see my niece's legs nicely.
I saw her ankles and her white dress shoes as they hung down listlessly.
The toes of her shoes were pointed downwards as she was totally relaxed.

Something took control of me at this time. I couldn't help myself.
Really, I couldn't.

(Yeah, I'll bet you say that to all the girls.)

I nonchalantly placed my right arm around Tracy's waist on the right
side and rested my hand on top of her leg, more plainly, her thigh. I
felt the material of her dress under my palm. On the left side, which
just so happened to be out of the line of vision of anyone, I put my
hand on her other leg, or thigh. Innocuous. Innocent. Loving.

Tracy did not seem to notice or seemed not to care that I was resting my
hands on her thighs.
I was a loving uncle. A loving, suddenly-lusting uncle.

(Shame, shame on me.)

Imperceptibly I moved my left hand off of my niece's left thigh on slid
it down onto the side of her leg. I could feel the hem of her Flower
Girl dress. And below that -- her white tights. My fingers moved below
the dress hem onto my niece's leg. There I was. I did it.

(Veni, vidi, vici.)

While we were both watching the picture-taking up on the altar I began
softly stoking my niece's leg right below her knee on the side. Just a
smooth, easygoing langorous stroking. My fingertips feeling the soft
cotton/lycra blend of her white tights. The pads of my fingertips
relayed a thousand points of light back to my brain. I loved the feel of
Tracy's tights.

My hand dipped lower and I continued stroking her tights-covered leg. I
ran my hand down to her ankle where I felt her ankle bone which
protruded out through her tights, and back up again to her knee.

I was startled when my niece said something.

"That feels nice, Uncle Frank."

I stopped my hand cold. It froze on her leg. I was caught. I was
captured. I was court-martialed.

"Why'd you stop, Uncle Frank?" my niece asked me.

"Um, uh, stop? What do you --?"

"That felt good when you were rubbing my legs. Keep doing it," she said,
and went back to watching the photo session.

Okay, this was what it was. A nice innocent leg rub. A massage. Nothing
sexual about it. Tracy infers no sexual connotation from my rubbing her
leg. Only I do. So, she wants me to keep on rubbing...I'll keep on
rubbing.

(Doesn't take much to make my kind of logic work.)

Nervously, even though I had her go-ahead, I went back to rubbing my
niece's tights-covered leg on the side. I slid my hand down her leg to
her ankle, where I softly rubbed her ankle bone. I felt my niece flex
her foot and I glanced down and saw that she had made the heel of her
shoe come away from her foot.

Oh shit. Get your Erector set out.

I gently rubbed all around her ankle dipping my hand lower until I felt
her rounded heel. I grasped it and squeezed. God, it felt so nice and
soft. So smooth and round. I slid my hand underneath her exposed foot
and lightly skimmed the bottom of her tights-covered foot.

My hand nudged Tracy's white dress shoe and it slipped off of her foot
and clattered to the floor.

Oh shit again.

No one took notice and all eyes were still on the altar.

Tracy's entire little tights-covered foot was out in the open now. Her
dress shoe lay on its side in the opening of the pew. She made no move
to complain about its loss. So I kept on with my rubbing.

I covered her entire foot with my hand, opening and closing it, softly
squeezing her foot. I cupped her toes, feeling them through her tights.
It was sheer heaven. I rubbed my hand over top of her foot, feeling her
instep. Her foot was nice and warm and soft from the tights.

Suddenly, Tracy leaned back against me, as if tired, and nestled her
head in my chest.

"Take my other shoe off, Uncle Frank," she whispered, "and rub that
foot, too."

I immediately slipped my right hand down her right side and grabbed her
shoe and slipped it off of her foot. I didn't let this one fall to the
floor, though. I set it gently upon the pew bench next to me. A quick
glance to the end of the pew and I saw that my mom and dad were
pre-occupied with the goings-on on the altar.

And besides, if they were to look my way what would they see? A loving
uncle rubbing his six-year-old niece's feet. An innocent action. Maybe
her feet hurt from her shoes. Yeah, that's it. I was doing no wrong
here.

(So sayeth the scorpion to the frog upon his back.)

I cupped Tracy's right foot now and fondled and petted that one as I had
her left foot. I held both of her little tights-covered feet in my hands
on either side of me.

And the inevitable became evitable.

(Is that even a word? Evitable? I'm too lazy to look it up. Sue me.
Poetic license and all that jazz.)

My erection was back. Trapped beneath my niece's warm reclining body it
pressed into the very top of her buttocks. Did she feel it? Did she know
what it was? Was she aware? I wanted to reach underneath her and adjust
my erection so that it wasn't prodding her in the rear but how to go
about doing that properly?

(Yeah, proprietness counts when you're sexually massaging a six-year-old
girl's feet and it gives you a hard-on. Right.)

I moved my right hand off of my niece's warm foot and tried to wedge it
underneath her body.
Tracy must have felt my hand against her back because she moved slightly
allowing my hand to slip underneath her. Did she know what I was doing?

My hand slid down until I felt the small of her back. I tried to reach
my fingers lower but got stuck. Tracy moved again and lifted her butt
off of my lap letting me reach down and quickly adjust my erection so
that it lay to the right of my crotch and not in the middle. I brought
my hand back out and Tracy resumed her position reclining against my
chest on my lap.

"Is it better now, Uncle Frank?" my niece surprised me by saying.

"Wha--? I mean, what was that, Tracy?"

"Is your thing all better now that you moved it from under my butt?"

I was stricken aghast. She did know what was going on after all. This
was crazy. How does she know...

(It was the telly's fault. The damn telly. Had to be.)

"I don't think you need to be worrying about things like that, Tracy," I
told her.

"It's okay, Uncle Frank. I know what it is. I felt it get big and hard
while you were rubbing my feet. That's your willy."

She seemed to be proud that she knew what it was. Oh my, what was I to
do?

But then Tracy answered my question for me when she moved her body a
little over to the right and moved her left hand down onto my crotch and
gave my erection a squeeze.

Oh shit thrice.

I was speechless. I didn't know what to say.

What could I say? It was what I wanted, wasn't it? I had thought about
what I would do if only Tracy, my niece, would start it first. And it
now seems as if she did.

I looked to my right nervously but no one seemed to be paying attention
to us over against the wall. Tracy's small hand kept petting the length
of my erection back and forth, back and forth.

"It's so hard," she whispered. "And big," she added.

(Well, I guess to a small six-year-old 6 inches is big.)

"Tracy, honey, pumpkin, um, you'd better stop doing that, please. I -- I
mean, if you keep that up -- oh, dear lord, help me."

"What will happen, Uncle Frank?" my niece questioned me, as if she was
seriously curious about it.

"Um, something best saved for a later time, if you wish. Now's not a
good time for it, honestly."

"Oh, okay," she said, almost resignedly, and took her hand off of my
erection.

She moved back onto my lap in her original position.

"When can you show me?" she whispered to me.

"Sh --show you?" I stammered. "Um, you mean you -- want to -- um -- show
you?"

"Yes, I want to see what will happen if I keep rubbing it."

"Um, well -- uh, let me see --"

Was I seriously considering this? I was, wasn't I?

"How about tonight -- at the reception?"

"Okay," she said, and seemed to gloat over having an answer from me.

My erection pounded and my heart hammered in my chest. This was crazy.
This was nuts. This was dangerous. This was pure heaven.

I tried to calm down and slow my heartbeat. I cupped both my niece's
feet again and squeezed them. I felt her wiggle her toes and they moved
inside her white tights. My erection
pulsed. I moved my hands up both of her legs up to her knees. I left my
right hand on top of her knee while my left hand slid underneath her
body again, with her lifting up to allow it access.
I reached down and cupped my niece's small buttocks through her dress
and tights. It felt so compact, so small, so firm. I removed my hand and
brought it out and onto her left knee. I slid her dress hem back and it
revealed more of her thigh. I slid my hand down on the inside of her
thigh and stroked her tights there. I felt her shudder against my chest.
She was enjoying the feelings I was creating in her young body.

I inched my hand down her thigh on the inside until I came to the
junction where her leg met her waist. I could feel Tracy hold in her
breath while I moved my hand onto the center of her crotch, pressing in
against her small mound. I was touching her little girl cunny through
her tights and panties. My erection buzzed.

I felt her head press against my chest as I began moving my hand in
small slow circles around her cunny. I couldn't believe it but I was
molesting my niece right here in church. And I was loving it.

And she seemed to be enjoying it, as well.

I noticed that things were wrapping up on the altar so I quickly
withdrew my hand from in between my niece's legs and smoothed her dress
down over her legs ladylike.

"We'd better stop. I think they're done," I whispered in her ear.

Tracy looked up at me and smiled lovingly. She motioned for me to bring
my head down so she could whisper in my ear.

"Don't forget about tonight. At the reception."

I smiled at her and just winked. She smiled back.

She climbed off of my lap and looked down at my still-hard erection. She
giggled and picked up her shoe off of the pew bench and put it on the
floor and stepped into it with her foot. I reached down and picked up
her left shoe off of the floor and she lifted up her left foot and let
me slip it on her foot.

My mom came walking towards me and once again I had a hard-on. I grabbed
the same Hymnal and covered my lap with it.

"Well, that's that," my mom heaved a sigh of relief. "All done, at least
here in the church.
No more pictures until the reception, thank God!"

"Mom, you're in church," I said, "just say thank you."

"Oh you!" she said, and then added, "Tracy, sweetie, your mom wants you
to go with them in the limo. Go on."

Tracy started to walk away to join her mom and stepdad but she stopped,
turned to me and said,

"See you tonight, Uncle Frank!"

And then ran over to her mom.

"Did you and she have a bonding moment or something?" my mom asked.

"Yeah, something like that," I said, smiling to myself.

Mom walked back over to dad and I waited until my erection subsided.
Which wasn't easy or short. Finally, I was able to get up and head for
my car.

Oh shit, that's right. I was illegally parked outside the church. And no
sweet little Tracy to get me out of a ticket.

Outside the church I saw that I was ticket-free. There was a God, after
all.

"Thank you," I whispered, and laughed at my own joke.

I got in my car and started it. I thought about my niece and what I had
done and what she had done and what she wanted me to show her.

Maybe she'd chicken out by tonight. Maybe she'd forget all about it. But
I didn't want to forget about it. I didn't want to chicken out.

I was looking forward to the Reception.

And I hope so was my niece.


The End of Chapter 3


Coming Next:

La Réception De Mariage (French)
The Wedding Reception






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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