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Message-ID: <56397asstr$1186535401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Claire Willington" <clairewillington@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Catching Liz"
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Date: Tue, 07 Aug 2007 21:10:01 -0400
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Catching up with Lizzie
a Vignette by Claire Willington



Madison, New Hampshire, 1972


"Hey, how come you didn't wait, cousin?" Steve Jackson asked, out of
breath.  "I can never keep up with you."  He flopped on the soft grass
beside her.

Elizabeth Parker was wearing a bevy of clothing to hide her enormous
nipples, yellow pedal pushers, bobby sox and sneakers,

"'Cause."  Looking down, she wiped her tears.  She was feeling highly
contrary, argumentative and oppositional.

"What's wrong now?"  Sitting closer, he could see that her wet eyes were
a true rich brown, reminding him of their grandma's chocolate cake.  Her
face was streaked with dirt where she had wiped tears.

She said aggrievedly, "Last week we had to let the school nurse check
us for ticks."

"So? We had to do the same thing -- all over."

"Stevie, it's embarrassing to have a room full of girls staring at my
big ... things.  They made fun of me."

He repeated In healthy curiosity, "'Big things?'"  A faint smile
twitched his lips.  Was it the freckles on her turned up nose?  Maybe it
was her full pink lips.  He never noticed them before -- until lately.

Lizzy could outrun every boy in school and climb trees with energy and
vigor.  From his earliest memories Lizzie always wore braids with pretty
ribbons.

"Tell me what's really wrong."

Sitting taller, she admired his wide shoulders, dark hair and blue eyes.
"Nothing."  She kicked the dirt with her sneakers.

He studied her thoughtfully.  "You were quiet in school today.  And on
the playground.  Are you sick?"

"I'm gonna run away."  She stared at the ground.  "Would you bring me
food each day?"

His chin sagged.  "Wow!  What happened?"

Turning, she looked into his eyes, "Stevie, you're my best friend.  Only
you know about our secret place in the woods.  Our friendship is
important and the girls are nasty."

"Yeah.  Tell me more about you running away."  Being a year older added
enough maturity to be concerned.

"Momma hates me and daddy insists I wear a bra."

"A bra?  You wear a bra?"  Trying not to laugh at her resentment, he
studied her well-concealed chest.

"I'm eleven."  She noticed his compressed lips.  Feeling insulted, she
whacked his arm.  "What's so funny, snot brain?"

"Nobody could tell, you wear so many layers of clothing."

"I'm cold."  She was determined not to explain, but this was Stevie.
She sighed loudly.  "Daddy plays with them and says I'm gonna be a big
girl, like momma."

"Plays with them?  Uncle Tim would never do that."

"Does too!"  Her head dropped even lower.  He could barely hear her
voice.  "And it feels great."

"Show me."

"No!  Why should I show you?"  She blushed.

"He really plays with your tits?"  His eyes lit eagerly.  "What else
does he do?"

"Last week he and I took a bath together and he let me touch him."  She
watched her cousin from the corners of her eyes.

His gaze was skeptical.  "You're making that up."

The girl smiled.  "And Mama was right there helping us."

Suddenly he believed her.  "Holy shit!  Maybe we could take a bath some
night when I sleep over."

She blushed again but her expression was calculating.  "We don't need a
bath to touch each other."

"We don't?"

"Let me feel it right now."

It was his turn to blush.  He leapt to his feet, looked around, caught
her hand and pulled her into the underbrush.  "Come on."

"Where?" she asked, but she didn't resist.

He opened his pants, "I gotta pee."

She stood beside him hip to hip.  Her hand fluttered toward the yellow
stream but she waited while he shook the last drops from the head of his
organ.

"I wanna touch it."  Her voice was soft in evident fascination.  She had
known him all her life but never thought of this part of him.  Somehow
he looked sexier now than any movie star.

Touching him caused him to jerk and thrust his hips forward.

She said, "It feels soft and spongy."

His eyes closed as she moved the foreskin back and forth.

"What's happening to it, Stevie?  Why does it get so big?  Oh, my!"

He said as if equally surprised, "When you ... touched me ..."

"Daddy gets big too and shoots whipped cream."

He was smiling foolishly.  "Gosh, Lizzie!"

"What are these?"

"My balls.  You can feel them inside."

With instinctive delicacy she probed the sack tight against his body and
barely touched him as she grazed his puckered hole.

He cried, "Oh, oh, god, I'm coming!"  A white stream sprayed the air
from between her fingers.

He squeezed her close against him.  "Lizzie, you're amazing."

"So are you.  You even smell good!"  She pulled her jeans down to her
ankles and fell back on the soft grass, using their jackets as a head
rest.  He knelt before her, eyes riveted on her privates.  Spreading her
thighs, he saw wisps of pubes barely noticeable.

He hesitated, looking awkward and inept.

"Stevie, touch me," she urged.  "My hot little hole is waiting."

It was a first time for him.  He opened the pouting lips and admired the
crimson flesh.  It invited exploration.  To her delight, she felt his
finger inside.

"Yes, oh, oh, Stevie, that's good.  Please, don't stop."

"Your hot little hole is better than anything I've ever felt"

"Stevie, are you still hard?"

"I am now."

"Go inside me."

He looked up with a puzzled expression.  "Lizzy, I don't know what to
do."

"Make your cock go into my hole."  Despite the glazed eyes her
expression was one of love.  "We'll help each other because we're both
virgins."

"Lizzie, I'm bigger than before.  Open your legs really wide."

Gently, organ in hand, he found his way into the front of her unbroached
passage.

Her eyes glowed.  "Oh, Stevie, it feels better than I ever thought."

"Wait, something is blocking my way."

He pushed harder.  She arched her back.  "That hurts!"

He backed partly away.

"Don't stop!" she ordered, feeling empty.

"I don't want to hurt you."

Now was the time to indulge himself.  He opened her blouse, pushed up
the brassiere, gathered her nipples and suckled.  Her sighs suggested
she liked this treatment.  She looked disappointed when he released her.

"Stevie, it's not fair."

"We need to ask somebody what to do.  I don't know who."

She sighed but her face brightened.  "I do: Daddy."

"He won't mind?"

"Naw.  He says when it's in the family, it's good."


END
Contact clairewillington@gmail.com

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