Frank Mccoy Asstr
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Frank Mccoy Asstr
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I always thought that the stories posted to newsgroups were just that: Stories, wild tales of fantasy. Erotic fantasy, and sometimes funny fantasy like Kenny N. Gamera's Got Beer? but still fantasy. That doesn't keep me from having a Thesaurus handy in the front room ever since reading it though. After all, why take a chance? Yeah, just a funny story; but what if it WAS true? After reading Kenny's follow-up story about sexy young Girl Scouts "selling" their little playmates for bondage ( Girl Scout Nookie Sale ), I had to giggle. Everybody knows girls in that age-group aren't interested in old men. Sigh . Especially old perverts like me, old enough to be their fathers.
Still, the idea was erotic. That's why, when a large fraction of the troop of Girl Scouts my daughter belongs to came up the drive, dragging behind them a little red "Radio FlyerT" wagon like Kenny had described in his story, I paid a little more attention to exactly what the girls said than I might have otherwise. Karen wasn't in the group of six. From what my daughter told me earlier I understand the troop of 26 girls had split up into five groups of five ... or in this case six, and similarly divided up our small town, so none of the girls got to have their own parents in their area ... and the girls were quite protective about which area they could sell in. Thus we weren't even allowed to buy cookies from Karen; but were told to expect our "representatives" to be around later that week. It was only later that I learned exactly why the girls had this limitation.
So, about midweek through the "sale", up the drive come six cute and sexy teenaged girls, all wearing uniforms so short that most cheerleaders would be envious. I know ... I know: The Downtown Council doesn't sell the uniforms with dresses that barely reach to cover their matching panties. The girls themselves in the local district of five troops had all gotten together, decided they would fix their own versions; modifying them by removing almost half the material in the already short skirts and otherwise adjusting the tops so that each girl was fitted until the shirt/blouse fit like a second skin. In between the short skirt and blouse, the top itself had been shortened until you could see at least two inches of bare skin and bellybutton of each teenager.
Several parents (including my wife) had objected until the girls pointed out that their new uniforms, even as modified, were much less revealing and sexy than what all the kids wore to the mall and even to school these days. Karen kept pestering me and the wife take a trip to the mall and LOOK at what the girls there were wearing, before Sarah was finally convinced and stopped objecting. Looking back at it, I suspect that most of the girls we saw down at the mall that day were fellow Girl Scouts and schoolmates of our daughter, all helping each other convince various parents that their new "uniforms" weren't any more extreme, erotic, or showing a bit more skin than what all the other girls in the mall were wearing every day. Yeah, a conspiracy.
Still, I never objected. I like looking at little girls in sexy clothing. Yes, even or especially my own daughter. Over the years Karen has gotten quite a few kinderslut and "fuck me" outfits; and I at least, have never said a word. I even used to buy her a few myself when Karen was just a little girl; sometimes convincing my wife to buy our daughter tight and short little outfits that a street-hooker might be embarrassed to wear in public. Since she's been old enough to select her own clothing I've often encouraged my daughter to buy short little micro-minis and tube-tops that show lots of skin, bellybuttons, cleavage (what there is of it), long sexy legs, and even peeks at little-girl-panties where a camel-toe shows through if you look. Or sometimes more than just peeks, with some of the more extreme outfits. This attitude has gotten me more than a few hugs and kisses from the girl that I treasure; the child wriggling in my arms and giving me a hard-on that was difficult to hide from my little girl. Yeah, I'm a pervert. Not that I'd actually seduce my own daughter; but still a pervert who got hard at the idea of doing so ... of having her firm little body squirming around mine in orgasm while I filled my little girl's tummy full of baby-making seed.
Most people in the neighborhood know I'm a pervert too; even including my own daughter. I write sex stories of horny little girls who seduce older brothers, grandparents, and sometimes even their own parents. Now mind, I've never approached my own daughter for sex; and while Karen probably knows all about the stories I write, she's never actually asked me about any of them. I assume, but don't know, that she knows where all those stories are archived on the net as I've never made it a secret; so she can read any of those I've posted if she wants to. They're often also left around the house in unfinished form when I'm working on some of them. In a similar manner I know the girl knows about sex and how babies are made; even though I've never had the nerve to teach her "up close and personally" like some of the horny men in my stories. She has full web-access on her computer; and I know (yes, from snooping around and checking her "history files" and "favorites") that my daughter is no innocent when it comes to what men look like naked and how men and women fit together for sex; a couple of movie-files she's had on her computer showing such things in full glorious detail. I ass-u-me that Karen has seen many more; but I'm not enough of a snoop to check all the time to see what porn she's downloading. I know it's more than enough for my daughter to know exactly how babies are made without doing it herself. Yeah, she's also fully as sexy as any of her classmates or fellow Girl Scouts; and I'm pretty damned sure she knows it too. The last time my daughter sat on my lap ....
Never mind. Still, I was fairly sure Karen was still a virgin; even though she's thirteen already and blossoming in ways to give horny old goats like me heart-attacks ... or more precisely, hard-attacks like then. Oh, not because Karen was afraid of what either the wife or I might say if our sexy young daughter came home with thick wads of gooey male cum up her snatch and oozing into her tight little panties; but mostly because boys her own age were such dorks. That she might be turned on and having affairs with older men hadn't occurred to me. Joining an "innocent" group like the Girl Scouts, most of whom I also assumed were similar virgins, fit my mental image of both to a `T'.
Which just goes to show you what ASS-U-ME does: Makes an ass out of you and me.
So ... Six sexy young girls, ranging in age from twelve at the youngest to sixteen at the oldest, show up at my door in Girl Scout uniforms, with a wagon full of cookies and brochures and order-forms, and other boxes of goodies. I figured I was going to likely buy at least one box of everything they had to sell. I did.
"Would you like to buy a box or two?" asked one of the SYTs (Sweet Young Things) in a voice that ran shivers up my spine. I looked the girls over and thought of the boxes I'd LIKE to buy, and then made my mistake, somewhat similar to the one Kenny made when girls came to his door.
"Why don't you girls come in?" I offered; opening the door and waving towards the living-room. "There we can discuss what you're selling and what I want to buy, more comfortably."
"Oh gee! I dunno," replied the chocolate one.
"Yeah. Mom says you're a prevert who writes stories about men fucking little girls, and we shouldn't accept invitations into your house, or you might try to have sex with us," added one of the younger girls ... obviously a twin about thirteen, as the matching girl nodded in agreement.
"Still," decided the oldest girl, a brunette that closely matched my wet dreams of the perfect sex-partner in bed, "There's six of us, and only one of you; so it isn't likely you'll make any of us do something we don't want to. Right, Girls?"
Oh God. I'm about as far from a rapist as it's possible to be without being a complete virgin. If any girl ever got in bed with me it was because she wanted to or I'd convinced her to, not from any force or even heavy persuasion.
"I guess," at least one of the girls agreed; and then all six giggling girls were crowding into the room beside me, without even letting me get fully out of the way. There's something extra sexy about girls in that age-range; when they have reached puberty but aren't yet old enough to have that "adult woman" shape and smell. Did I mention smell? The aroma of hot sexy young women in the prime of their fertility gathered closely around you is enough to arouse any man. I'm no exception. My prick went from half-hard to hard as a brick; and at least one of the girls couldn't help but feel it against her thigh as she pushed by me with a giggle that added to the strain the member was under.
Somehow I knew that all six girls were now aware their host ... the "pervert who wrote dirty stories about little girls having sex" was aroused and had a hard-on for them ... if not from feeling it personally, then by another horny giggle of the one girl who had. "So what is it you girls are selling?" I asked; visions in my head of the Girl Scouts Kenny had met. Girls just don't sell their classmates into bondage!
"We're selling Girl Scout Nookies, of course, Silly," giggled the Asian. "We sell by the box, twenty nookies per box, and twenty dollars a box."
Uh ... I couldn't have mis-heard what I just thought I had. "Twenty dollars a box ?" I asked; sweating. If the girls knew what my fevered mind had thought they said, they'd all be gone in seconds, and likely none would even be allowed to visit my daughter in the future, as they previously had. "Isn't that a bit expensive for cookies?"
"Not for cookies , Silly," giggled the younger girl. "Though we sell them too. Cookies are only three dollars a box."
Now I really WAS sweating. "You mean?" I asked; not daring to put the thought running through my horny mind into words.
"Uhuh. As you see us," confirmed the brunette. "Six boxes here, and for twenty dollars you get twenty nookies from each box you buy at twenty dollars per box."
Oh God. They couldn't mean what they said. If nothing else, why so cheap? A dollar a lay from sexpots like these ....
I put the question into words. "Why so cheap?" I asked. "I'd think you'd charge much more. Girls like you are priceless." Dumb, I know, to be admitting that and driving the price up.
More giggles this time, from the whole group. "It's because we're young," explained one of the twins. Her sister carried on, "Most of us are only thirteen or fourteen," she explained. "Even the oldest of us is like only 16; so we aren't all that experienced. Besides, I thought you liked the idea of having sex with young girls. Isn't that what your stories are all about?" More giggles from the rest of the crowd.
Oh God. How to explain to these young sexpots that my fantasy stories are about horny young girls their ages, in the prime of their fertility, seducing older men, not horny old men forcing their attention on innocent young girls? Then I suddenly realized that was exactly what I had here; and if I didn't act quickly I'd be in Kenny's predicament of watching the girls vanish in disgust. "Uh ... Can I buy more than one `box' of nookies from each of you?" I asked.
"Well ...." The six girls looked from one to the other. "I suppose so," the chocolate one admitted finally. "Usually though, when more than six boxes are sold, we planned to split it up among the rest of the troop. Fair's fair, you know. The other girls deserve to get in on things too."
"Oh." My mind went wild at the thought. "How many girls are in on the deal?" I asked.
"The whole troop. That's twenty-five girls," was the answer.
"Twenty-five? Why not twenty-six?" I asked; wondering because I knew how many girls were in the troop.
Another giggle. "Because you can't buy one of the boxes," explained the brunette, who seemed to be the main spokesperson for the group. When I started to ask why, she explained, "That would be incest."
"How many ... uh ... `boxes' have you girls sold so far?" I enquired; expecting most of the horny men in the neighborhood to have already taken the girls up on the offer. After all, they were supposedly already halfway through their sale.
There was a stirring, and blushing of embarrassment. "Uh... None ... Yet," admitted the brunette.
"We just decided to try yesterday," explained one of the twins. "And your daughter said you'd be a good one to try FIRST," continued the other. "You being such a known pre-vert and all." More shy and embarrassed giggles.
"That's okay," admitted the Asian, when I stared at them; her face falling. "It was only an idea. We all agreed that if you didn't go for it, already being a pervert, it would probably be a mistake. Sorry we bothered you. You won't tell on us, will you?" The whole group looked disappointed; but not ready to press the point.
"Wait!" I yelped; holding up my hand. "I didn't say I wasn't interested." The girls brightened.
"Uh ... Just how many `boxes' did each of you girls expect to sell?" I asked; now bringing out my wallet and counting the twenties inside. Thankfully I'd just been to the bank and had close to a thousand on me, in preparation for going to the electronics swap-meet where cash speaks far louder than checks or credit-cards. This sounded like a far better deal than any swap meet!
"Uh ... Only about one apiece," admitted the girls. "We thought we'd see how it went first," explained the brunette. "If things went well, then we planned on branching out next year."
I did some fast calculation. "Uh ... How about if I buy your entire stock?" I offered.
"Oh ... WOULD you?" squealed one of the girls, the youngest I think, happily jumping up and down and clapping her hands together.
"Uhuh," I promised. "But if I DO, I want each of you girls to promise I'll be your only customer this year. I want to buy your entire output."
The girls looked each other over. "I suppose that's fair," conceded the brunette as each of the other girls nodded.
"Lessee," I decided; looking the delicious sextet over. "I think I'll buy TWO boxes from each of you, and one box each from each of the other girls in the troop."
"Except Karen, of course," agreed the brunette.
"Except for Karen," I agreed. "I'll buy SIX boxes from her, since she's my daughter and deserves a bit of extra business from her own father, if you get what I mean. At 720 nookies, twenty per box, that will give me just a hair over two nookies a day for the next year, or about two a month from each girl in the troop and a little over two nookies a week from my daughter."
"But ...." The girls looked at each other and finally agreed. "You really are a pervert, you know," one of them added, but without any steam in the accusation; instead grinning at me while making the charge.
"Yeah, I know," I agreed. "When will I expect delivery?" I asked.
The girls again looked at each other. "Well ... We have chits here for each of us," they explained; showing what looked like business cards with signatures of each girl on them in small cookie boxes. "We only have one box of twenty for each of us right now. We'll have to bring back the others tomorrow. Then you only have to give one to the girl who signed it and she'll supply the Girl Scout Nookie. We'll have to make up the extras for each of us and your daughter too."
"Don't tell Karen I'm buying up her stock," I cautioned. "Just let my daughter know that you got an order for more than one `box' of her nookies. Let her lord it that somebody likes her so much that she sold more nookies than the whole rest of the troop, without even being there personally. Okay?"
"Okay, Mr. Jenkins." The girls all nodded and agreed to keep it a secret from my daughter who they had sold her "services" to. It wasn't as if I was somebody horrible who would beat her, rape her, treat her badly, or even as if it was something painful like selling my daughter into bondage similar to how the Girl Scouts in Kenny's neighborhood had been marketing their playmates "services". Sex, after all, is fun , or at least should be.
"Uh ... Before I pay ...," I started.
The girl looked at me suspiciously.
"Usually before I buy cookies , I at least get a taste of what I'm buying," I haggled. "And I'd like to sample at least two nookies before I buy, in the same manner, just to be sure I'm getting my money's worth. Over seven-hundred dollars is quite a bit of money to spend without at least sampling some of the goodies first, don't you agree?"
Again a shared look, a nod, and a shrug from each girl.
"So ... Line up there on the couch and take off your panties, so I can get a good taste of each one of you," I directed. "Once I get a taste, I'll know better which ones I want to sample first." A canard. I already KNEW which two girls I was going to "sample" with my prick that afternoon. I'd had my eyes on the little twelve-year-old and her chocolate partner ever since they'd walked in the door. Oh not that the older teenager, the Asian, or the two twins weren't delectable pieces of tail in their own manner. It's just that I've had dreams about two such girls for years.
To my surprise, and confirming that I would be getting exactly what the girls had been promising, all six girls hurried to remove the sexy cotton panties that were part of the uniforms, underneath the short little skirts that they all wore. Then all six liked up side-by-side on the couch; each proudly or embarrassedly, as appropriate to each, spread her legs and displayed bare little cunny or furry snatch to my horny gaze and soon to my licking tongue as I "tasted" each girl and compared her scent and flavor to each of the others; going back and forth between each of them as I supposedly "made up my mind" as to which girl would get to feel my prick instead of my tongue inside her tight little snatch.
To my surprise, each girl not only felt different to my probing tongue, from bare preteen cunny to full-furred teenaged twat; but each also tasted entirely different. The 12-year-old tasted soft and sweet, while the twins were almost but not quite the same. The chocolate sweetie was slightly musky but not objectionably so; and the 16-year-old tasted and wriggled around my tongue like the woman she was; while the Asian girl tasted indefinably different from all the other girls. I could have lapped and sucked teenaged pussy all afternoon long; and I don't think a single one of the girls would have objected in the slightest if I had done so. However, something else had other ideas: My swollen and horny prick. If I didn't get it IN one of these horny young sexpots, I would be wasting my cum down my pants' leg and all over the carpet instead of up inside one of the girls' tight little boxes where it belonged.
"Are you ready?" I questioned the little twelve-year-old spread out before me, while her companions watched wide eyed as my big (to them) prick approached the youngster's tiny slit.
Wordlessly the child nodded and spread her legs until she was almost doing the splits; her eyes wide and perhaps even a little bit frightened at the enormous (to her) dong approaching her tiny slit. Now I'm not one to compare dick
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