Message-ID: <52084asstr$1127715005@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <johnwizard13@hotmail.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-TN-Interface: 209.99.127.20 X-Original-Path: nntp.comcast.com!news.comcast.com.POSTED!not-for-mail NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 25 Sep 2005 19:01:42 -0500 From: John Wizard <johnwizard13@hotmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <721144192505@news.giganews.com> X-DMCA-Complaints-To: dmca@comcast.net X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly X-Postfilter: 1.3.32 X-Greylisting: NO DELAY (Relay+Sender autoqualified); processed by UCSD_GL-v2.1 on mailbox4.ucsd.edu; Sun, 25 September 2005 17:01:46 -0700 (PDT) X-Spamscanner: mailbox4.ucsd.edu (v1.6 Aug 4 2005 15:27:38, 1.4/5.0 3.0.4) X-MailScanner: PASSED (v1.2.8 13776 j8Q01jGf019044 mailbox4.ucsd.edu) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 25 Sep 2005 19:01:42 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Sense of Humor - Wizard - (Mg,cons,humor) Lines: 732 Date: Mon, 26 Sep 2005 02:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2005/52084> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hoisingr SENSE OF HUMOR Wizard [Usual warnings - If you're underaged, live in a community that doesn't like erotic literature, have no sense of humor, or are easily morally outraged, go read Winnie the Pooh. Otherwise, enjoy.] [Special Thanks to Russell Hoisington who waded through a sea of spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors to produce a readable version of this story. If you haven't read his Wynter and Jimmy, do it right after you finish this, you won't be disappointed.] I coach a girls' soccer team. It started as community service. I got pulled over after too many drinks and too few years. I was only nineteen, and my state says you have to be twenty-one. But I had so much fun that I'm still coaching three years later. I started with an eight-year-olds rec program, and now I coach the twelve-and-under town league and help out with the high school varsity. The town league has teams from all over the western part of the state, so some days we have to drive several hours to get to a game. Today was that kind of day. We were coming back from a tournament in Whidbey. Three other teams in a round robin, so we played three games. The first two were easy wins for my girls, but the last one we just squeaked out. The girls were feeling pretty good after going undefeated, and I popped for pizza at the local Pizza Hut before we headed home. Most of the parents had driven down to catch the game, so I only had three girls for the three hour trip back: Monica, Lisa and Dawn. Lisa really should have been in the next league. She was almost thirteen, but her birthday made the league cutoff by one day. She was tall and blonde. Hair cut short and cut-offs cut shorter. It didn't take much imagination to see her as a young Kelly Bundy, except Kelly would never have gotten sweaty on a soccer field. Unless it was after the game with the lights turned off. Monica was twelve and looked like the star athlete she was. Her copper red hair was cut short like Lisa's. Dawn was eleven, and a young eleven at that, but she held her own on the field. She idolized the older girls, especially Lisa. She was short, even for her age. Mousy brown hair, medium length, usually in a ponytail. Oh, and about three million, two hundred and six freckles. I finally got them off the video games and into the car about eight. I wasn't surprised that we were the last ones to go. By the time I'd gotten on the highway they were talking about boys. Specifically about Lisa's boys. Lisa had about six boys that she kept on short leashes. On any given day, one would be her boyfriend and the others merely drooling followers. They rotated in no order that I could follow. Mentally, I laughed at the six boys I'd never met. Being led around by the nose like that. The younger generation has no pride. Then I remembered Penny Wilson from my high school. There'd been a bit of drool involved there, but that was different. Having a boyfriend and five wannabes didn't slow Lisa down. She usually rode to and from games with me, and more than once I'd practically had to use a crowbar to pry her off some boy she'd just met when it was time to go home. Monica didn't have a boyfriend. I knew from their conversations that she'd fooled around with a few boys at parties, but that was all. To hear her talk, Dawn had fooled around too, but I had a feeling that it was all talk to keep up with the girls. Dawn struck me as a little bit innocent. I never censored their conversations, so they didn't bother trying to be quiet. I was close enough to their ages that I could be the 'cool' coach. Toward the end of the ride, it had degenerated into jokes. Dirty jokes. And Lisa and Monica knew some good ones. I even told a few myself, knowing the three girls wouldn't tell anyone. I dropped off Lisa first, then Monica. They both lived on the south end of town about a block apart. Dawn lived on the far side of town, and I had an apartment near the middle. The girls had all been riding in the backseat, but after I dropped off Monica, Dawn moved up front. Dawn was very quiet as we drove toward her house. I usually dropped her last when she rode because she was the only one at this end of town, and usually after the other girls were gone she was a chatterbox. Finally, after almost seven minutes of silence, "Coach?" she said timidly. Dawn wasn't usually timid. "Yes, Pebbles?" I called her Pebbles when we were alone because the first time she'd come to practice, she'd had her ponytail on top like Pebbles Flintstone. "Can I ask you something and you won't tell anybody?" she asked looking up at my face. I glanced down at those big brown eyes. "You know you can," I told her. "I mean anybody. Especially the other girls." "Whatever you ask me or say between us, stays between us," I assured her. She thought about it as we drove several more blocks, then finally decided that she could trust me. "I didn't get some of the jokes," she admitted. I misunderstood and told her, "That's okay. I didn't like all of them myself. Everybody has a different sense of humor. You don't have to laugh just because Lisa thinks it's funny." "NO! I mean I didn't get them. I didn't know what they were about." I thought back over the jokes that Monica, Lisa and I had told. Most of them were pretty basic. Either about sex or, in Monica's case, bodily functions. "What didn't you get?" I asked, puzzled. "Like the Helen Keller joke." It took me several seconds to remember the joke she was asking about. "You mean, why does Helen Keller wear hot pants?" "So people can read her lips," Dawn finished, and from the corner of my eye I could see her shrug. It made sense to me, I didn't see what the problem was. "You know what hot pants are, don't you?" "Duh! Really really tight shorts, like the kind that Lisa wore to practice on Thursday." Actually, I thought, those were several categories above hot pants. Inferno pants maybe. "Well, when girls wear hot pants, everyone can see their bodies really clearly." "Yeah?" Suddenly I saw the problem. "Spread your legs wider." She looked confused but opened up her knees. "What do you call that?" I asked, taking one hand off the wheel and pointing at her crotch of her shorts, my finger tip only an inch away. She turned the most beautiful shade of red. "My crotch," she stammered. I smiled at her. "What else?" Her color deepened and she looked down at her toes. "My cunny," she said almost in a whisper. Just then I hit a bump in the road and my finger brushed against the crotch of her shorts. I pulled away quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. "Well some people talk about your cunny having lips." I waited to see if she got it. "Lips?" "You know, lips," I said and, taking a big chance, reached down to where I knew her pussy was and traced the shape of her lips in the fabric. She didn't pull away or look shocked, so I relaxed. "Those aren't lips," she stated. "Sure they are. Those are the lips of your pussy, or your cunt, or your cunny. Whatever you call it. In fact, you have two sets of lips down there, your large lips and your small lips." I thought to myself that I was sounding a lot like a sex education teacher. "Don't they have sex ed at your school?" "Sure, we had it last year. Mostly they talked about how good it was not to have sex until you were married. And how horrible AIDS was, and how we'd get pregnant and ruin our lives." "Sounds like a lot of fun," I said dryly. Dawn started laughing. It was so sudden that I almost drove the car off the road. "I get it, read her lips," she muttered between fits of laughter. Gradually the laughter petered off into giggles. "What about the guy and the shower?" I didn't remember which joke she was talking about. "What?" "You know, with the nearsighted girls." "Okay, what didn't you get? "The ending." "Okay, a guy named Jimmy lives in a big dorm on campus, and he's going to take a shower. The dorm is co-ed, but his floor has only guys, so he comes out of his room and starts walking to the shower room wearing nothing and carrying his towel and a brand new bar of soap." "Yeah..." she agreed. "And suddenly, the elevator door opens and three girls walk onto the floor. They're dressed in robes and look like they're going to the shower themselves. He recognizes them and knows they're all extremely nearsighted and he sees that they're not wearing their glasses. He knows that the shower on their floor is broken and figures they were going to one of the other girls' floors but pushed the wrong button. He doesn't want to embarrass them so he freezes like a statue, with his arms in the air holding his towel and soap." "Very good," I agreed. "I'm not stupid," she said in a patronizing tone. "There's just stuff I don't know." "You know, realizing that you don't know everything and asking questions shows you're pretty smart." From the corner of my eye I could see the young girl preen and push out her nonexistent chest. I grinned and continued. "The girls walk toward him and see him in their nearsighted way. 'Look', one says, 'a new vending machine.' She reaches into the pocket of her robe and pulls out a quarter and pushes it into Jimmy's mouth. Then she grabs his cock and pushes in on it, then pulls it out. 'Look! I got a towel,' she tells the other two as she reaches up and grabs Jimmy's towel." Dawn continued, "The second stepped in front of Jimmy, put a quarter in his mouth, grabbed his cock..." Dawn giggled and blushed as she said the word, "...pushed in and then pulled out. 'I got soap,' she announced as she took it from his other hand. The third girl stepped up and put a quarter in Jimmy's mouth. She reached down and grabbed his cock..." Dawn stuttered again, "...and pushed in and pulled out, and nothing happened. She tried again, in and out, still nothing. She started jerking her hand faster and faster, saying 'What a gyp." then suddenly 'I got hand cream!' Dawn looked up at me. "Where'd the hand cream come from? He was carrying a towel and a bar of soap." I felt my face turn a little red. "You know about boys and cocks?" I asked. "I know boys have them," she said, then admitted, "but I've only seen them on babies." "Have you heard of jerking off?" "I've heard of it, but I don't know what it means," she said, her voice dropping off. I knew she didn't like admitting ignorance. "Jerking off is when a boy rubs his cock until he cums. When he cums, he shoots a white cream that's called semen or cum. It would feel a little like hand lotion. So the third girl was rubbing his cock back and forth and Jimmy came-shot his load into her hand-and she thought it was hand lotion," I finished. "Oh," she said, looking disappointed. "That's not all that funny." "Well, even good jokes lose something when you have to explain them," I admitted, because this was one of the jokes I had told. "Why did you call my cunny a pussy?" she asked next. "Well, a lot of people call it a pussy," I told her. "I guess because boys like to pet the soft fur just like a cat." I reached over and stroked the crotch of her shorts once, wondering if there was any fur under the fabric. She giggled but didn't pull away. "Do boys jerk off a lot?" "Some do. I suppose it depends on the boy and what you mean by a lot. I had a friend when I was growing up who jerked off about ten times a day. Most guys jerk off once or twice a day, or maybe a few times a week. There are some who don't jerk off at all. Depends on how horny they get." "Do you think that Tyler jerks off?" "Lisa's Tyler?" She nodded. Tyler was one of Lisa's toys, the one that Dawn thought was cutest. "When it's his turn to be boyfriend, probably not at all. But the rest of the time, probably a lot." "You don't think he gets horny when he's with Lisa?" she asked breathlessly. "No, I know he gets horny when he's with Lisa, but I imagine she takes care of him in other ways. So, he only has to jerk off when she's being somebody else's girlfriend." I was trying to think about how to get the subject back on her pussy, so that I could touch it again, when she asked, "What about the 'mull- ig-nont' joke?" I almost laughed at her pronunciation but managed to control myself. "After his annual physical, the hot stud was waiting in the doctor's office for the results," I repeated the earlier joke. "'Well,' said the doctor, 'I've got good news and bad news.' 'The way I feel, I'll take the good news first,' replied the stud. 'The good news is that your penis will grow four inches in the next three months,' announced the doctor." I glanced down at dawn to make sure she got the word penis. I knew she knew cock, but I wasn't sure about penis. When she didn't show a blank look, I continued. " 'Great!' the stud shouted. 'What's the bad news?' 'It's malignant,' replied the doctor." Now she had the blank look. "Malignant." I repeated slowly so she could hear the pronunciation. "Do you know what that means?" She shrugged. "It had cancer, they were going to have to whack it off." "Ewwwww," she groaned. "They cut off his dick?" "Gone," I agreed. "What so funny about that?" she asked. "It's just gross." "Well you have to know guys," I explained. "Most guys want a bigger cock. And to have the doctor tell you it's going to grow four inches would be fantastic. Then he drops the other shoe and tells you they're going to cut it off." "Oh. Well, Lisa thought it was funny." "Lisa's warped," I told her. She nodded in agreement. "Could you stop here, please?" Here was an empty stretch on the country road that led to her house. We were almost there. I looked questioningly at her. "I have a couple more questions, and we're almost home." I nodded, pulled over to the side, and put the car in park. "What about the tattoo joke?" she asked. I didn't remember it. "What tattoo joke?" I asked. "A woman goes into a tattoo parlor and asks the artist to give her a Thanksgiving turkey on her left inner thigh and a Christmas goose on her right inner thigh. He nods and starts to work." Dawn looked up at me and I shrugged. I hadn't heard anybody tell this one. "After a while, he gets curious and asks her why she wants a turkey and a goose on her inner thighs," Dawn continued. "The woman answered, 'My husband is always complaining there's nothing to eat between Thanksgiving and Christmas.'" I chuckled and Dawn looked at me searchingly. I wasn't sure if I believed that she didn't get this one, but I was very willing to explain. "Well you see," I reached down and spread her legs wide apart, "she had the tattoo guy draw a turkey here." I drew an imaginary turkey on her thigh less than an inch from her cotton-covered pussy. "And a goose here." I drew a goose on the other thigh. "And when her husband complained there was nothing good to eat between Thanksgiving turkey and Christmas goose," I reached up and squeezed her pussy, "she'd show him something good to eat." I left my hand there as I looked in her face for understanding. "She wanted him to be a cannibal?" Now I knew she was faking, but I went along with it. "Haven't you ever heard of eating pussy?" I asked. She shook her head. "When a guy or a girl licks a girl's pussy, it's called eating pussy." "Oh." she said. Then: "A girl?" "Yes, girls lick other girls all the time. I think Monica and Lisa have tried it." "They have?" "I don't know for sure, but from some of the things they've said, I think so." "Wow!" I moved my hand to her thigh like a good boy. "What about the recreation area and the Twinkie?" she asked. I was really lost. A joke about a recreation area and a Twinkie? Then I realized that she was asking about two different jokes. I'd told the recreation joke, and Lisa had told the Twinkie one. I also knew that she'd understood both. "One day a there was a company picnic at a national forest. Fourteen- year-old Sally went with her family and was having a very good time, playing games and eating barbeque. After she'd finished eating, Sally went off exploring. Sally was climbing up a hill and slipped and fell and rolled all the way down. "Her father heard her scream and came running. He picked her up and carried her to the ranger station, where there was a doctor. Sally was in a lot of pain. The doctor got her pants off and found several large splinters sticking out of Sally's pussy." Dawn giggled. "Her father yelled, 'Do something! Get those out, she's hurt!' but the doctor just shook his head. 'Sorry, we have to wait for permission.' 'Permission?' Sally's father asked, amazed. "'Yes,' the doctor replied. 'You always have to get permission to remove old growth timber from a recreational area.'" Dawn looked confused. Or at least she was faking a confused look. "This," I said, reaching over and grabbing her crotch again, "Is a recreational area." I gave her a squeeze and Dawn giggled. "That reminds me," I said, not moving my hand. "Do you know why girls don't have hair on their chests?" Dawn shook her head. "You don't see grass on a playground, do you?" Dawn laughed. "How about your playground?" I reached my other hand across my body and laid it on her chest. "Any grass?" I asked as I rubbed her. She giggled again. It was an awkward position, and there wasn't much to feel. Through her shirt I couldn't tell if she had nipples or a pair of mosquito bites. "What about the Twinkie?" she reminded me after a few seconds. I let my hand drop away from her chest but kept the other quietly in her lap. "A little girl went with her father to the barber shop. The barber got him in the chair and started cutting his hair. The little girl was standing next to the chair eating a snack cake. The barber chuckled and said, "You're going to get hair on your Twinkie." The little girl nodded and replied with a big smile, "I'm gonna get boobth too." Dawn was trying to look blank, but the effect was ruined by the grin she had. "He was telling her that she was standing too close and some of her dad's hair was going to fall on her food, but she thought he was talking about this," I squeezed her pussy mound, "Twinkie." Dawn giggled again. "Tell me, little girl. Is there any hair on your Twinkie?" Even in the pale light of the moon, I could see her face color. "Better check," I suggested and pulled my hand off her crotch, grabbed the top of her shorts and pulled them out away from her body. Dawn squealed, but didn't pull away. I looked down her shorts and saw... nothing. And I didn't want to turn the light on, I was afraid I'd spook her. So I winged it. "Hmm. Well someday you'll grow boobth too." Dawn giggled again and twisted around pulling her shorts out of my hand. "You know what explaining these jokes to you reminds me of?" "What?" she asked suspiciously. "When I was a kid, not much older than you, me and some of my friends would act out jokes." "Act them out?" "Yeah, just for fun," I explained. "Now some jokes you can't do, like the Helen Keller one. But some jokes are perfect, like the dormitory one." "And I'll bet you volunteered to stand there like a statue while three girls jerked you off." "Me and every other guy in the group," I lied. While it sounded like a great idea, I hadn't thought of it until just now. "Sounds kind of fun. Can we try one?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Sure, which one? "I don't know," she answered, like I'd expected. "How about my favorite joke?" "Sure, which one was that?" she asked. "I didn't tell it tonight, so you probably haven't heard it. Ready?" She nodded. "Once upon a time, " I began, "there was a family that lived way back in the hills. Ma and Pa and Jeb, I'll be Jeb," I added. "Now, Jeb was a very strong good looking boy, but not very bright." "So far you don't have to act," Dawn said with a giggle. "Quiet! Or I'll take you home right now." It was an empty threat and she knew it. "One day, Pa sent Jeb to town with the wagon for some supplies. Jeb went to town and was coming back when he saw Rita Mae walking home. That's you," I said, giving her thigh a squeeze. "Rita Mae lived on the next farm over and was a beautiful teenaged sexpot." Dawn positively beamed at being called, in a round-about-way, a beautiful sexpot. "Jeb stopped the wagon and asked Rita Mae if she wanted a ride and she said 'Yes.'" I looked at Dawn and said in my best hayseed farm boy voice, "How y'all, Rita Mae. Want a ride?" "Yes, Jeb, I surely would," Dawn answered in just as corny an accent. "So Jeb flipped the reins and on they went down the road." "So far, it's not much of a joke," Dawn said dryly. "You want to go home now?" I asked. She shook her head. "Now Rita Mae was horny, powerful horny, and as they went down the road, she started thinking about Jeb. A little ways down the road she spotted a clearing in the trees and asked Jeb to pull over." I stopped and waited. After a minute, Dawn realized what I was waiting for and said in her hillbilly voice, "Jeb, would you pull over there?" "Sure nuff," I answered and flipped the imaginary reins. "Jeb pulled over and Rita Mae unbuttoned her shirt, took one of Jeb's hands and put it on her tit and rubbed it around." Dawn turned red, but lifted her t-shirt and put my hand on her small breast. There wasn't much there, but I could feel her small hard nipple pressing into the palm of my hand as she rubbed herself. "After a couple of minutes of this, she asked, 'Would you like to go further?'" Dawn seemed to have trouble talking. Apparently her throat had gone dry, but she croaked out, "Would you like to go further?" not bothering with a hillbilly accent. "Reckon I would," I answered and took my hand away and shook the imaginary reins. "Jeb pulled back onto the road and continued their journey. A mile or so down the road, a frustrated Rita Mae spotted another clearing and asked Jeb to pull over." Dawn quickly said, "Jeb, would you pull over here please?" back in her hillbilly character. "Sure nuff," I answered and steered the imaginary horses off the road. Rita Mae undid her cutoffs and pushed them down her legs-hill girls didn't wear underwear-then she took Jeb's hand and put it on her pussy and rubbed it around. After a couple of minutes of this, she asked, 'Would you like to go further?'" Dawn turned an even deeper shade of red, but pushed her shorts and underwear down her legs, exposing her pussy to my eyes. I'd been wrong, she had just a few wisps of soft brown hair above her mound. As she reached for my hand, I thought she was going to stop breathing, but she took my hand and placed it on her pussy mound and started rubbing herself with it. I was in heaven. It was almost five minutes later, when she asked breathlessly, "Would you like to go further?" "Sure nuff." I answered, took my hand away from her pussy and steered the imaginary horses back to the dirt road. "By now, Rita Mae was really frustrated, and she knew that there was only one more clearing before they got back to her farm. So as they got to the clearing, she asked Jeb to pull off." Dawn needed no prompting. "Jeb, would you pull over one more time, pretty please." I could just see her in a pair of cut-off jeans with a rope belt. And an old man's shirt tied just below overflowing breasts. "Rita knew it was now or never, so she reached over and unfastened Jeb's pants, then worked his huge cock out. She stroked it several times, then asked, "Would you like me to put it in for you?" Dawn swallowed and reached for my pants. I was wearing sweats, without a fly, so I lifted my butt and Dawn slid them down my legs. My cock, which had been hard ever since I explained Helen Keller, popped out. Timidly, she reached over and her hand encircled it. I leaned back in my seat and watched as she started to stroke it. After a couple of minutes, I thought she'd forgotten about the joke, but she looked up and said timidly, "Would you like me to put it in for you?" I think she thought she was going to lose her virginity right at that moment, but I surprised her with the end of the joke. "Yep. Pa'd kill me if I came home with it hanging out." Her hand stopped moving on my rod but didn't pull away. She looked up at me, "That's stupid." "So was Jeb," I agreed. I reached over and started caressing her pussy. Her hand kept stroking my cock, and damned if I wasn't out of jokes. "More!" she commanded and squeezed my joystick. I had a feeling this girl was great at video games. "Let's see," I mused as I tried to switch my mind into high gear. I definitely needed a better indexing system up there. I wanted a pussy joke, something with a finger, or better yet, a tongue. I knew I'd probably heard dozens, maybe hundreds, but I was coming up blank. Then I remembered one that came close. "Little Johnny and Little Suzy grew up..." "Why are so many jokes about Little Johnny or Little Suzy?" Dawn interrupted. "Not a clue," I admitted. "Okay, Little Herman and Little Mildred grew up..." "I liked Johnny and Suzy better." "I'm gonna spank," I threatened. She just grinned at me and squeezed again. "Little Joey and Little Lisa grew up..." I paused, waited, and continued, "...into teenagers and fell in love." "Awww." I ignored her. "One day Joey called into one of those radio contests, knew that Elvis Presley's middle name was Aron, and won a trip for two to London. He decided that this was a sign from fate and the trip would make a good honeymoon, so he asked Lisa to marry him and she said yes. They were married and flew to London and settled into their hotel." "Their first day there, they met a very sophisticated middle aged man who invited them to dinner. While they were eating, the conversation turned to sex." "When do we start acting it out?" Dawn asked impatiently. "Right now, you're the sexy beautiful Lisa and you're eating dinner." Dawn grinned in the pale light and started cutting her food with an imaginary knife and fork. "And you're Joey?" "No, I'm Basil, the sophisticated Englishman." Then I continued the joke. "Basil argued that Americans were way too hung-up over sex, and Joey said that Americans were very relaxed about it." "Why, Ill wager that if I were to offer you ten thousand pounds to kiss your wife's privates, you'd be embarrassed and want to punch me." I said in my best upper crust British accent. "When the Englishman excused himself to go to the men's room, the couple discussed his offer. They had almost no money, and ten thousand pounds was over eighteen thousand dollars. They decided to accept the Englishman's offer. After dinner, the three of them went up to the Lisa and Joey's room. Lisa quickly undressed." I looked meaningfully at Dawn. She giggled again and started shedding clothes. When she was sitting naked, I continued. "Basil admired the beautiful Lisa and then dropped to his knees and pressed his face into her pussy." I arranged Dawn on the seat so that her back was against the door and she was facing me with her feet on the seat and her knees up in the air. I then leaned down, cursing the center console, and pressed my face between her thighs. I rubbed my face against her thighs and nuzzled my nose against the cleft of her mound. I rubbed her for a couple of minutes, listening to her softly purr. I sat up and looked Dawn in the face. "After several minutes, Joey got impatient. 'Would you hurry up and kiss her,' he demanded." I pressed my face back into her crotch and rubbed my lips over hers. I enjoyed the heady aroma and the feel of her hot skin against mine. Then I looked up again. "I'd love to, old man," I said, back in my British accent, "But I really can't afford it." I dropped my face into her crotch once again and started running my tongue around the inside of her pussy. Dawn gasped. Then she laughed. Under other circumstances I might have taken that personally, but I figured that Dawn had just gotten the joke. I spent several minutes exploring her small pussy, surprised at the ease with which my tongue penetrated. Dawn's breathing got faster and raspier. I pushed my tongue as deep as into her tunnel of love as I could. I felt her shiver as the first waves of orgasm overtook her. I gave her pussy a last few kisses, sat up, and watched her come down from the mountain. "That was a good, uh, joke," she said when she got her breath back. "Glad you liked it," I replied with a big grin. I knew that I had to get her home, but I figured I had time for one more joke, if I had one. "Once a beautiful blonde went to the doctor with a sore throat. 'Say ah,' he told her and looked into her mouth." Dawn opened her mouth wide and said, "Ahhhhhh," as I pretended to examine her throat. "The doctor hemmed and hawed, and finally pronounced, " 'You have Sahara Throat. This is very serious.' The girl was shocked and worried, 'What can I do?' she asked. 'We need to inject a special creamy liquid down your throat.' "'Please hurry,' she said. "'This works best if you're on your knees,' he told her. 'It improves the saliva circulation.'" I nodded to Dawn and she got on her knees on the seat. "'Now close your eyes, it open the glands.'" Dawn closed her eyes. "'The injector is very soft and pliable, and you need to prime it as if you were sucking on a lollipop,' the doctor told her. Then he put the injector into her mouth and she started sucking on it like she'd been told." I put one hand on the back of Dawn's neck and started pulling her forward and down, while I pushed my sweats down with the other. My injector stood up proudly. "Open wide." Her mouth opened and I pulled her down on my injector. Her mouth closed on it and her lips rubbed up and down the shaft as her tongue licked and teased. I was thinking that I needed to find all my old "Sex to Sexty" magazines out in the garage-they were full of great and not-so-great jokes-when she lifted her head up, opened her eyes and looked at me. "That wasn't funny," she complained. "Oh well. Can't be funny all the time," I said and guided her back to my injector, which gave her the punchline a few seconds later. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+