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Reply-To: stereographPANTIES@hush.com
From: "Stereograph" <stereograph@hush.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Playin Hooky {Stereograph} (M+mf nosex hist)
Lines: 222
Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2007 07:10:03 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The following is a work of fiction.  It should not be taken as a
guide to behavior in the real world.  The people, places and
events exist only in the mind of the Author.  This is a work of
pornographic fiction, it should not be read by those who are
under the legal age to do so in the jurisdiction where you live.
It may, or may not, contain matter illegal to read where you
live.  Please know and obey the laws of your own country.  The
Author cannot be responsible for the laws of every country
connected to the internet.  Neither the Author nor society
condone some of the actions which may be presented within.

Please, enjoy the story.

=========================={ Playin Hooky
}==============================

M+mf nosex hist

   It was a fine, clear, hot summer day.  Garrison duty around
Memphis was not the least bit taxing.  Oh, the people hated us. 
The summer was dry after an over wet spring.  First Halleck and
then Grant had shifted units around like chess pieces.  Those
were problems for some, but the war was quiet.  The Rebs were far
away and plagued by problems of their own, and Shermen's
occupation of Memphis was too vital for the commanders to mess
with, much.  The lull had produced perfect conditions for me to
take time off.

   Three of us, Sgt. Baker, the drummer, young William, and I
went fishing.  The Sergeant was my neighbor back home.  Young
William was his nephew.  We'd fished together many a time.  None
of us was needed on that day to help hold down the small market
town we were stationed in.  A creek full of catfish was calling
us.

   We'd just settled down with our poles and a jug of lemonade
when a girl with a fishing pole stepped into the clearing.  She
looked us over and said, "Dangit, what are yah Yankees doin
here?"  At first I couldn't figure out how she knew we were
Yankees.  Our state of dress was not fit for duty.  The Sergeant
and I had removed our coats and shoes.  William had gone further
and removed his shirt too.  Wide straw hats shaded our heads.  It
finally dawned on me, we had to be Yankees because no southern
men our age were left in the area.  They'd all enlisted, or been
drafted, into the Confederate army.

   "Fishin," I said.  "What are you doin here?"

   "Ma sent me to fish.  I hates fishin!  I hates everythin about
fish sept eatin em.  If mah Pa, or brothers was around they'd do
the fishin, but they ain't.  Mah sister's too little and granny's
too old, so I gotta do it."

   The girl looked sixteen or so.  She was dressed in a buff
calico dress with a blue flower print.  Her head was crowned with
a straw bonnet.  She looked pert, but a little underfed.  She
reminded me of my little sister the last time I saw her.  Corn
silk braids peeked out of her bonnet, the ends joined at the
hollow of her neck into a shape like a heart.  A light dusting of
freckles lay on her nose and cheeks.

   "Pull up a patch of bank, plenty of fish for us all in this
creek," said Sgt. Baker.

   "I really hates fishin.  Maybe you boys can catch enough for
me too an we can trade somethin?"  She looked sweet.  She looked
like my sister trying to wheedle a reprieve from her chores out
of Pappy.

   "Whatcha got to trade?  Betcha don't have nothin," said Willy.
"Trade ya some fish for a look up your skirt."

   The Sergeant and I competed to see who could slap Willy's head
first.  "Pay the boy no mind," said Baker, "he's been hangin
round the low sort of soldier too long."  He turned to the boy,
"Its the woodshed for you tonight.  My sister'd skin me if I let
you get away with that kind o talk!"

   "I'm too old for the woodshed!" said William.

   "You'd best get smart enough not to need it," said his uncle.

   "I ain't that kinda girl!  Ain't nothing goin on up my skirt!"
 She hung her head.  "Boy's right, I ain't got nothin else to
trade.  Fish ain't worth tradin for that sort of thing.  I'd best
start fishin.

   An idea entered my head.  Maybe not a good idea, but maybe it
would work out.  "What about a little kiss?  A kiss and a thank
you would be enough for the Mr. Baker and me.  We might even
manage to make the boy worthy of a little kiss."

   "A kiss?  Like a peck on the cheek kiss?  Or yah askin fah a
behind the barn kiss?"

   "Well, let's see how we do at fishin, then you decide how much
of a kiss it's worth.  How's that?"  I thought it worth a try.

   "Auright, let's see how y'all Yankee boys kin fish."  The girl
sat down demurely, careful of her skirts.

   We baited our hooks and dipped our lines.   Young William had
a bite almost immediately.  He hauled in a pretty big catfish. 
"How's that for fishin?  Bet it's worth a good kiss."

   "Ain't bad," she said. "Ah need more than that to make Ma
happy."

   "How many fish you need?" asked Sgt. Baker.

   "Bout five, if they all that big.  More if they's smaller.
Whatchall got in the jug?"

   We offered her lemonade.  She poured for us all.

   I got the next bite.  The fish was smaller than the boy's, but
still respectable.  We kept fishing.  William drew up another
whopper.

   "Looks like I'm gonna be due a big kiss!" he said.

   "We'll see," said the girl.  "Ah ain't decided if I wants yahr
fish yet."

   We kept on fishing.  Sgt. Baker looked distressed.  He hadn't
caught anything and might not rate a kiss.  We sipped our
lemonade and fished.  Then he had a bite.  It fought like mad and
we all agreed it must be a big, big, fish.  When it was finally
landed it was the smallest catfish I'd ever seen.

   The girl laughed.  "Y'all kin throw that one back.  Ain't
nobody but mah little brother kin eat a fish that small, an he
ain't got enough teeth."

   When the girl laughed she drew up her legs and brushed her
skirt higher.  Did she know I could now see straight to her
crotch between her ankles?  Only a shadow preserved her from
exposure.  The Sergeant, whom she faced, might have a better
view.  I turned my bulging eyes back to the creek and fished.

   "I though a pretty little lady might prefer a dainty little
fish," the Sergeant said.  "Looks like I was wrong.  Ain't the
first time. Let's see if I kin find somethin bigger."

   "Ah think yah kin," said the girl, laughing again.  "Maybe we
should look in anothah spot."  She knelt on the edge of the bank
and looked.  Her rounded little bottom was clearly molded by her
dress.

   I caught William staring.  I pointed at the creek and he got
the hint, though he shot me a look of scorn first.  Then my line
tugged down.

   "Well looky there!  I believe I've got another fish."  I
hauled it up.  It was another respectable catfish.  "I believe we
might feed up our little lady yet.  Ugly fish for such a pretty
girl.  Here you go!" I held the fish out to her.

   She rolled onto her back giggling, her head almost touching
William.  "Get that thang away from me!  Ah'll carry the stringer
home, but ah ain't touchin them fish before that."  Her knees
were drawn to her chin and her hands before her mouth.  Only the
stiffness of her linens preserved her any dignity.  Lesser fabric
would have gapped open, showing all.  Then, for just a second as
she righted herself, it did.

   "Stingin them ought to cost extra," I said.

   "Be worth payin extra, not to touch em.  Maybe.  We'll see
about that when y'all have caught em."

   "You only need one more," said Baker, "an here it is!"  He
pulled up a cat that put mine to shame.  "Will that do ya, or you
want us to keep fishin?"

   "That's wonderful!  Be plenty enough.  Would you be a sweety
and string em fah me?"

   The Sergeant strung her fish and held out the stringer.  The
girl laid them down, moulded herself to the kneeling man, and
planted her mouth on his.  They shared a long, deep, kiss.  She
sat up and said, "Thank yah, that's a fine, fine, fish."  She
gave him another kiss. "Thank you fah stringin em up.  Yah a
mighty sweet man!"

   She stood back up and walked over to me.  She plopped herself
down on my lap and pressed herself tight against me.  "Thank you
fah the fish."  Her mouth pressed against mine.  Our tongues
dueled for quite a time.  She gave me a toothy grin, "An fah the
other one."  We shared another deep, long, kiss.  Tight as she
was against me, she couldn't help but feel my appreciation.

   She gathered her stringer and pole.  Then she walked to Willy
and leaned in to deliver two quick pecks on the lips.  "Thank yah
fah the fish."  She turned to go.

   "Not fair!  I caught the biggest fish and got the worst kiss.
I think my fish er worth as much as their's, at least."  Young
William looked sullen.

   "Ah paid you what ah think fish are worth, ah hates fish. 
Them ol boys treated me like somebody worth doin somethin fah. 
Good service deserves a reward, yah wanna might remember that
next time yah wanna look up a girl's dress.  'Sides, they's good
lookin hunks uh men!" Her blush was all the more dramatic for her
pale complexion and dress. She watched her bare toe scrabble in
the dust.  "Larn yah some mannahs an next time maht be
different."

   She walked to the end of the trail, then turned back to favour
us with a dimpled grin.  "Y'all Yankees come fish here real
often, yah hear?"  Then she scampered away, butt bouncing.


*-*-* Jeff Remove PANTIES to reply.

-- Click for military loan, fast & no lender fee, approval today
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