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GOD BLESS AMERICA
Imagine if all the terrorists had been too busy reading sex stories to
attack the World Trade Center? Five thousand lives would have been
saved, and nobody would have had to jump out of the worldÕs tallest
building. (Admittedly, the television in the month of September wouldnÕt
have been as exciting.)
As part of the Homeland Defense Initiative, I have tasked myself
with writing more sex stories, hopefully even steamier ones. This is in
hopes of keeping terrorists like Mohammed Atta (or whatever his name
was) too busy jerking off to attack people. The terrorists were young
men. They visited a strip joint and rented some porno movies. Obviously
the problem is not that there werenÕt enough checkers at the airport (who
werenÕt required to stop people with box cutter knives anyway.) ItÕs that
the porno industry has failed our country. Had the strippers these
terrorists saw been better, or had the porn been hotter, they wouldnÕt have
managed to get their pants zipped up and go attack an airplane.
Larry Flint, shame on you. Our country would be safe today if you
made suitably obscene pornography. You have let our nation down.
Yes, it has fallen to me, holy joe, a poor hobo living in an outhouse,
to rescue America. I would prefer to sit quietly and read the Bible, but
our nationÕs safety demands that I act. Please donÕt think IÕm a pervert
when you read this story. It is written exclusively for horny terrorists, in
hopes of averting future terrorist attacks.
30
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
Night Games
Chapter One
ÒOuch!Ó CindyÕs mother said as she bent down to get a pan from the
kitchen cupboard below the countertop. Cindy, who was eating toast
smeared with jam at the breakfast table in their little apartment, looked
up from the mouse cartoon on their portable T.V. They were new in L.A.,
had just arrived two weeks earlier, and this was the second time in that
period that she had awoken to find her mother curiously disabled. The
young blonde woman stood and brushed back her hair, her other hand on her
behind. It was an ass that Cindy was just beginning to realize men craved.
High, firm, the cheeks deliciously inviting, with just the right amount of
fat and proportion. Men were amazed when they learned that CindyÕs mom
had a child. But that had been so long ago, when the model thin blonde was
only 12. Cindy was that age now, and her awareness of the opposite sex
was just dawning. Mom was a catch; she was just learning that, and she
was beginning to suspect, despite her tender years, that she might be a
catch too. Boys, even cute ones, turned their heads and stumbled when
Cindy walked down the street. They suddenly had trouble talking, though
back in Idaho, in earlier years, theyÕd had no trouble teasing her on the
playground. Now, in a new city, Cindy was more aware of herself than
ever. She was wearing her first bra, and a big one at that, for her mother
had delayed buying her one, instead purchasing ever larger and looser
shirts for her. Men, who hadnÕt seemed to notice her back in their small
town in Idaho (where word travelled fast), now looked at her with
abandon, making her afraid they might try to kidnap her.
Cindy shook her hair back, which was blonde like her motherÕs. She
hadnÕt bothered to comb it and already her mom had surprised her by not
scolding her about it. She still had her P.J.Õs on from bed, the mouse ones
that matched the cartoon she was watching. Her mother wore a long
flannel gown but despite its soft easy comfort she seemed to be in some
degree of pain.
ÒAre you okay, mom?Ó Cindy asked. She had just recently stopped
calling her ÒmommieÓ. A girl who had visited three days before, a new
friend at school, had teased her when she heard Cindy call her mother that.
ÒYes, IÕm fine,Ó CindyÕs mom answered. She still didnÕt have the pot
and she bent again, gingerly, and made a second try. She held her ass the
whole way down, as she bent, and Cindy watched her.
ÒYou donÕt look okay,Ó Cindy said, as her mother retrieved the pot.
By some unfortunate accident just then, on the T.V., the little mouse who
had such grand adventures began hitting the big bear on his ass with a
stick. Cindy heard the bearÕs anguished moans on the T.V. and turned to
look, then looked back at her mother. Even a six-year-old would have been
able to make the connection.
ÒDid Dave spank you?Ó Cindy asked. Immediately she broke into
giggles, and the half-chewed toast in her mouth, slathered with jam, came
spitting out a little, onto her plate. CindyÕs mom turned. Her face was
red.
ÒNo, nobody-- ooch!Ó CindyÕs mom, whose name was Sasha, said, her
denial interrupted by another flash of pain as she imprudently put one foot
forward to walk across their kitchen.
ÒDave DID spank you!Ó Cindy cried, and her eyes were full of
mischievous glee, albeit of an utterly innocent variety. Sasha reddened
more and then managed to walk to the stove, and place her pan upon it,
treating the fact of her behindÕs condition as something that could no
longer be denied, but that didnÕt need an explanation either. She waited
for her daughter to finish laughing, turning on the heat under the pan, and
hoped there would be no more questions. But of course, Cindy being 12 and
not so completely absorbed in the adventures of the little mouse as she
would have been, say, a year ago, there were.
ÒWhy did Dave spank you? I thought he was taking you to a party,Ó
Cindy said.
ÒHe did take me to a party,Ó CindyÕs mom answered. She turned and
attempted to walk to the refrigerator to get some eggs, only to have her
hand fly to her ass again.
ÒDid he spank you after the party?Ó Cindy asked. In frustration,
upset with the questions but even more with the pain in her buttocks as
she tried to cross the kitchen in front of her daughter, CindyÕs mom
answered,
ÒNo, he spanked me at the party.Ó It was an imprudent remark, and
as Sasha was aware of CindyÕs eyes widening she knew just how ill-
advised it was. Cindy might be only 12, but going to school in L.A. now,
and junior high at that, she had already picked up a few rumors about sex.
CindyÕs questions did not cease. They continued after school,
despite the fact that her mother was no longer hobbling around. The idea
that her mother had been spanked at a party, which conjured up visions of
being spanked in front of people, caused the girl no end of curiousness.
One question followed another and finally, that night, after blushing and
dodging through dinner at their little kitchen table, CindyÕs mother
decided to sit her daughter down and explain everything. Or, at least, as
much as she could without completely embarrassing herself.
ÒCindy,Ó Sasha said to her daughter as the little girl plopped down
next to the woman so many men craved, and, in L.A., craved to do obscene
things to. ÒSex isnÕt just about two people making love.Ó
ÒIt isnÕt?Ó Cindy asked, her eyes wide an innocent, but sparkling
with a knowledge gained from school yard rumors and watching her mother
grab her behind.
ÒNo. Sometimes it involves other things,Ó Sasha said to her
daughter.
ÒLike being spanked in front of everybody?Ó Cindy asked, no longer
able to hide her glee at such an awful and yet intriguing event.
ÒI wasnÕt spanked, Cindy,Ó Sasha said. ÒI was whipped.Ó CindyÕs
eyes, already wide, sprang open further. She had seen a horse whipped by
a rider in Idaho. Had her mother been a horse? Not entirely cognizant of
where her daughterÕs innocent alarm was taking her, Sasha continued,
ÒAnd you shouldnÕt get angry at Dave for doing it, either, because I
was told in advance that it would happen to me.Ó Sasha reached down and
stroked her daughterÕs long blonde hair, straightening out the locks with
her fingers, for the girl had again failed to brush it, after playing out
back, despite her mother having told her to.
ÒYou went to the party even though you knew youÕd be hit with a
whip?Ó Sasha asked, imagining her mother shod hand and foot in horse
shoes, and forced to bear Dave on her back, like a beast of burden, a bit in
her mouth and blinders along the sides of her face, as Dave hit her and told
her to gallop.
ÒYes, and it wasnÕt just Dave who hit me. Other people hit me too. I
was the guest of honor last night,Ó Sasha said. ÒAnd-- and the previous
time, when you saw me like this, it was just two people who hit me,
because I was new to the group.Ó
ÒWhat group?Ó Cindy asked.
ÒThe group that parties,Ó CindyÕs mom answered. She straightened
her daughterÕs hair some more with her fingers and said, ÒHoney, IÕve tried
for a long time to be, well, a good example for you. I donÕt know if you
realize it, but I didnÕt date much in Idaho, because I wanted to be home
with you, and not leave you with some teenage sitter who might--Ó
CindyÕs mom blushed, for that had been how Cindy had been conceived,
ÒWho might, you know, have invited her boyfriend over. Then you might
have come across them having sex, and I didnÕt want you to find out about
sex too soon, and certainly not from your babysitter. So I stayed home
with you, and I didnÕt see many men.Ó Sasha paused. Did her daughter need
more? She looked at the girlÕs big blue eyes, so similar to her own, and
then she was aware of her daughterÕs growing breasts, which pushed forth
with lovely promise into her blouse, which, although only recently
purchased, was already too tight for her. It wasnÕt one of the big loose
blouses that her mother had previously bought for her, but a sexy belly-
showing blouse, like the girls wore at CindyÕs school. Yes, Sasha realized,
her daughter needed more. Sasha tossed back her own lovely blonde head,
clearing her eyes of two strands of hair that had fallen into her vision as
she spoke, and went on. ÒI didnÕt just come to L.A. to take the secretarial
position I was offered,Ó Sasha told her daughter. ÒSure, it pays more, but
I came for myself as well,Ó Sasha said. ÒI was feeling restless. About
men, I mean. There wasnÕt a whole lot to do in Boise and I wanted to,
well, experiment,Ó Sasha said. ÒIÕd heard things and finally a mood just
took me and I said, ÔAlright, IÕm going to find out about this. My daughter
is old enough. SheÕs wearing a bra now, sheÕs having her period.Ó Cindy
blushed, but her interest in her motherÕs words remained undimmed. ÒSo I
decided to come to the place where I knew things would be fast and where
I knew I could get some answers. And I have,Ó CindyÕs mom said. She
shifted her behind on the couch, as if to relieve some nagging pain.
ÒTwice,Ó she added, and blushed and laughed. ÒAnd I want to get some
more answers,Ó she told her daughter. ÒIt hurts, but I donÕt want to stop
now, because itÕs exciting, and I havenÕt been excited in a long time.Ó
Sasha suddenly became defensive. ÒI deserve to be excited, donÕt I?Ó She
asked her daughter. ÒI mean, I had such a strict father, and then I did what
I shouldnÕt have, once, and I got pregnant with you. But I didnÕt have an
abortion, like so many other girls my age, and I didnÕt give you up either. I
kept you, and I loved every minute with you, donÕt get me wrong,Ó Sasha
said, suddenly apologetic, almost kissing her daughter now, still nervously
straightening her disheveled blonde locks. ÒAnd I worked, first as a
bagger girl at the grocery and then as a waitress. And I turned down guys
just to be with you, to protect you and see that you were raised properly.Ó
ÒI was, mom,Ó Cindy said, her eyes showing pity for her mother now,
almost ready to spring forth with tears, feeling a little bad about pressing
her mother to speak to her this way. And perhaps knowing and fearing
what would come next:
ÒThen why did I find you sucking the cock of that Thompson boy?Ó
SashaÕs mother suddenly shouted, cross and red-faced and angry. Cindy
slunk down, escaping her motherÕs hand for a moment, but her mom quickly
followed her down and clamped her fingers atop her daughterÕs head.
ÒI couldnÕt help it. He made me!Ó Cindy gasped. Tears rolled down
her cheeks, big ones, big like the ThompsonÕs boyÕs cock.
ÒNo he didnÕt. I was watching you from my back window and I saw
you pull down his zipper,Ó Sasha said to her daughter.
ÒIs that why we left Idaho?Ó Cindy said suddenly, becoming a little
cross herself.
ÒThatÕs one of the reasons,Ó Sasha answered.
ÒWell you shouldnÕt have interfered in my life,Ó Cindy said.
ÒI had to. You were giving blow jobs!Ó Sasha said.
ÒJust ONE blow job,Ó Cindy corrected.
ÒAnd what are you doing at school? At your new school?Ó Sasha
asked. Her eyes accused, and CindyÕs looked guilty.
ÒJust two more blow jobs,Ó Cindy said. ÒOnly of the very cutest
boys.Ó Sasha glared at her daughter. She felt like hitting her, but her
little ivory face was just too pretty.
ÒI got a call from your principal today, while I was at work,Ó CindyÕs
mom said. ÒAt my new JOB, Cindy.Ó The little girl, already blushing and
crying, turned more red-faced and shed even bigger tears. ÒCindy was
caught in the boyÕs bathroom-- in the BOYÕS bathroom, Cindy, sucking the
penis of a boy while another one, with his cock out and wet with saliva,
looked on. Did you do that?!Ó
ÒYes mom!Ó Cindy cried, and suddenly buried her face in her motherÕs
prominent chest. It was a chest many men lusted for, both when CindyÕs
mother was at work and when she went to and from work, and of course at
the party, where men and even women had sucked with delight upon the
perfect young gourds, even decorating them with whipped cream to make
their succulence all the more appealing. As Sasha watched her daughter
she was well aware of how she had responded to such attention. In fact,
of how she had invited it: prior to being put on a table and decorated with
cream, she had been tasked with roaming under the table, on hands and
knees, undoing the flies of the men and relieving the women of their
undergarments. She had prepared the guests, tempted them with her
mouth, sucked and licked them to a state of readiness for the festivities
that were to ensue. Festivities which culminated with everyone
ÔrewardingÕ her for her work with a whip on her bottom.
ÒTell me the truth,Ó Sasha said, when her daughter had finally
ceased crying. ÒDo you enjoy sucking cock?Ó Cindy looked up at her mom,
her face tear-stained. She wanted to lie, but looking into her motherÕs
face, which was red with anger and embarrassment and hidden knowledge,
she suddenly found she couldnÕt.
ÒYes mom,Ó Cindy confessed. ÒI like it. The boys are so eager, and
then when I put my lips to them they get so awkward. Even the raddest
boys are reduced to huffing and choking, like theyÕre going to die. And then
theyÕre desperate to do something-- IÕm not sure what it is. TheyÕre just
absolutely desperate, like they have to pee or something, but they want me
to keep my mouth to them while they do it!Ó Cindy gaped at her mother,
her eyes wide with inexplicable innocence, yet questing for an answer,
just like her mother had found she needed answers.
ÒYes,Ó CindyÕs mother said. She returned to stroking her daughterÕs
hair. ÒThey want to give you their seed.Ó
ÒOh,Ó Cindy said. She thought a moment, frowning a little. ÒBut my
eggs are in my tummy!Ó Cindy said. Sasha laughed then, and Cindy laughed
too, until they were both red-faced with their mutual embarrassment and
their thoughts of boys and men.
ÒYes, dear,Ó Sasha finally said to Cindy, when sheÕd recovered
herself and her daughter was able to listen again, no longer laughing. ÒIt
doesnÕt matter where your eggs are. Men want to cum, above all else, and
seeing a pretty young thing like you, just as pretty as I was when I had
you, and the same age too, they will spurt their seed most anyplace. In
your mouth, in your pussy, or--Ó CindyÕs mom paused. Her ass wasnÕt just
hurting because a whip had found her behind.
ÒOr?Ó Cindy asked, all 12-year-old curiosity.
ÒOr your bottom,Ó CindyÕs mom said, and her eyes showed her guilt
at having been taken by two men there, the previous night.
ÒMy bottom?!Ó Cindy cried. Her hand flew back to that part of
herself which her mother had felt so pained to bend that morning. The girl
felt her 12-year-old hiney and seemed mortified that the cocks she had
learned to suck might long to penetrate her there.
ÒYes,Ó Sasha said. ÒEven in your bottom. Men like it because itÕs
even tighter than your pussy, and seen as someplace thatÕs forbidden.
ThatÕs how they are. They want to violate whatever is most forbidden to
them. Dave himself remarked how pretty you looked. Do you remember
that, last night? Even though heÕs dating me IÕm sure heÕd love nothing
more than to get his cock into you. Into your mouth, and even into your
little ass.Ó Sasha said the last a bit vengefully, as if thinking, perhaps,
that for all her questions her daughter deserved just such a fate. Suddenly
she slapped CindyÕs behind, for the girl was sitting now facing her mother,
with her ass not bearing her full weight, instead sitting on her right thigh,
curled up like a kitten beside her mother.
ÒOw!Ó Cindy cried, suddenly, and her hand, which had started to drift
off her behind, suddenly flew to where her mother had hit her. ÒWhy did
you do that?Ó Cindy asked.
ÒBecause you deserve it, for asking so many questions,Ó Sasha said.
ÒAsk any more and IÕm liable to take you to one of my parties.Ó
ÒCAN I?Ó Cindy asked. Her sudden interest, expressed with a kind of
childish glee, surprised her mother. Sasha thought that, after hearing
about whips and cocks going up hiney holes the girl would have no
interest, at the tender age of 12, of being a part of such things. But far
from finding her motherÕs tale fearful, the girl was still full of curiosity.
ÒNo of course you canÕt,Ó Sasha said.
ÒBut I want to,Ó Cindy begged. Sasha realized she had taken her
daughter, unwittingly, from the frying pan to the fire. She had been trying
to allay her daughterÕs questions with a truthful, of somewhat edited,
explanation. Instead she had simply fanned the flames of her daughterÕs
interest even further.
ÒCindy, the parties I go to are for ADULTS,Ó Sasha said, stressing
the word.
ÒBut you had me when you were 12,Ó Cindy answered.
ÒYes but that was just a tryst with some boy and I--Ó Sasha looked
at her daughter, at her lovely perfect pink lips, and knew where those lips,
so full of curiosity, would be again, at school tomorrow. Back on the penis
of some boy, a very cute and ÒradÓ boy of course, but further embarrassing
her mother with calls from the principal about her daughter exploring the
forbidden territory of the boyÕs bathroom. She didnÕt want that. If the
little minx was to be controlled, she would have to be tamed the only way
her mother knew how: not by bans and restrictions, for what was a ban on
watching the little mouse on T.V. in the morning compared to the lure of
cute boys with their cocks hanging out, being made to cough and stutter?
No, she would have to do just as Cindy was asking, despite screams from
her conscience that she should not. She would take Cindy to a party, let
her explore the temptations of the flesh, under her motherÕs watchful eye
of course. She would let her bathe in eroticism and then she would be as
Sasha herself had become, after having Cindy: mature, responsible, a bit
older perhaps, but not a little slut sucking cock in the boyÕs restroom at
school.
ÒAlright,Ó Sasha said, surprising her daughter with her sudden
reversal. ÒYou can come along to the next party Dave takes me to.Ó
ÒTHANKS, mom!Ó Cindy cried. She leapt upward and threw her arms
around her young motherÕs neck, kissed her hard on the cheek. With the
same lips that had explored the boyÕs cocks in the restroom that day.
Sasha hoped her daughter hadnÕt picked up any diseases.
ÒIÕll have to take you to the doctorÕs,Ó Sasha said to her daughter,
when the little girl had finished kissing her. ÒIÕm sure theyÕll let you
come to the party, but everyone who goes must first be inspected by a
physician and get a clean bill of health. IÕll have to start you on the pill,
too, because even if I keep you out of harmÕs way at the party I canÕt count
on you not getting into it with some of your radical boyfriends.Ó
ÒYou can trust me, mom,Ó Cindy said, eyes wide and beguilingly
truthful. But Sasha knew better. She had said the same thing to her mom
the night sheÕd given in while babysitting.
ÒOf course I can trust you, dear, but I canÕt trust men. Or cute boys,Ó
Sasha said. She pushed her daughterÕs hair back, where it had fallen into
her eyes.
ÒOh. Right,Ó Cindy agreed.
ÒSo weÕll start you on the pill and make sure you havenÕt picked
anything up in the boyÕs room,Ó Sasha said. ÒAnd promise me you wonÕt get
into anything I donÕt know about,Ó Sasha said. ÒWith the boys at your
school, I mean. I canÕt take you to the party if you come down with
something, period. Whether I want to or not. Understand?Ó Sasha asked
her daughter.
ÒYes mom,Ó Cindy answered. But from the look in her eyes Sasha
was glad the next party with Dave was only a week away, for she could
see that her daughterÕs little devil side, which was just beginning to show
itself, was dying for more.
30
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