Yo (Excuse Me Miss)  

sexyasianangel70 39F
214 posts
5/31/2006 5:32 pm
Yo (Excuse Me Miss)

In the dim lights of the room, as viewed through a crack in the door, is the silhouette of a tomboy form. She is crouched in a deep knee bend over a long mirror taken from the wall. Back lighted by a poorly dimmed goose neck lamp, she has aimed up against her now rudely distended smoothness. She examines, pulls, prods, all creating the soft sweet whimpers of desire that escape from her throat.

Those soft muted sounds of her pleasure and building urgency drift throughout the darkened room. The small gasps of alarm when she see's the places that only show in the reflections of excitement on another’s face. Deducing each place by petting and touching.

Framing her cleft, are the open tense pillows of her quim, now wet from her erotic scrutiny. Pushing out with lewd ache the pink rose clit looks as sensitive, as it is delicate. The smallness of its stature bearing no relevance on how it's swollen state affects her.

Beneath that is the tiny hole, The one that makes her feel like crying out while laughing when she presses there. A painful sort of pleasure she hates to cause, yet somehow feels compelled to. On occasion when she’s on the toilet, or after nearly having an accident running home to pee,, a well-timed touch will seem like an implosion. The spot becoming magical and making her cum as she pees . The tiny meatus is her secret.

The next congested dip is her cunnies entrance, a mystery still. It seems that’s where the ache roots but all attempts to probe the region end with discomfort. This vulnerable squat lends a new lewd dimension . Its concave tissues shiny and throbbing at the pace of her heart.

Finally the tensed buttocks of her crouch show the place she has wondered about most, her dirty place. The one she feels only with her left hand as taught in hygienic lectures by the nuns . Always with the near ritualistic hand washing after. The pushed down appearance unlike what she imagined.

A sudden sight, between her legs where the mirror showed behind her, nearly made her topple. In the reflection struck in shadows was Daddy. She froze looking down at him looming reflected, doubly warped by the way she viewed him, towering there jingling his keys. Like a rabbit caught in bright lights she went to move and found none of her muscles worked.

"Looks to me like you should have asked for help little girl", His voice a cool chill that made her skin crawl with embarrassment.

Before she could reply he dropped her dress onto the reflection, "Get dressed , Now, We're going for a drive." Then standing back he crossed his arms and watched her floundering to comply.

The hum of the car had nearly calmed her wonderment at where they were going. Admonished to hush last time she inquired. She lay on her back with her knees up, feet on the passengers door and her head resting on daddy's thigh in silence. His silence. Watching the flicker of the street lights zipping by in animated shadows on his face above her. She knew they were on highway now by the smooth even ride.

Throughout the trip his arm rested comfortingly across the middle of her torso . His hand, very still, was cupping her mons through the fabric with deceptive nonchalance. The very fact that it was still, its heat competing with the fire smoldering in her sex, had her trembling in a fine vibration struggling not to clench, not to use those muscles, not to squeeze, the intensity of denial nearly driving her mad.

She hugged his arm and took comfort in his scent. Just as she thought about her quickly growing need to pee they slowed and exited the highway. She tried to sit up but was prevented and given a task. In a low deadly tone he spoke, " Take off your panties and bytch up like a good girl ".

The term he used, was an ember drifting down onto her ears. A term he used for the pose he had taught her to adopt in their intimacies. Its supplicating openness an arousing feature all its own. Supine with shins clasped and pulled to her small pale breasts and held still. The stress of this posture forced all her attentions on the region it showed. A special vulgarity of appearing in heat

Chills bathed her arms and thighs within seconds. Her hands had the waistband bunched at the knees and was slipping them off before realizing she'd ever done a thing.

She started to feel unhinged with disorientation when he took them and tucked them in her mouth as she lay. Finger by finger full they took up their place on her tongue, starting with the cottons moist center first. Her humiliation was bearable only because he’d done this before. In many situations that she needed to learn to curb her tongue, her chatter annoyed him or he knew she would be crying with gusto and wanted to show her that volume was no deterrent.

A sudden rush of clarity saved her from his displeasure and she drew up her knees to her chest before needing to be reminded. Clasping each shin she pulled herself apart to the dark of the night, cool air bathed her soft lips. The act alone causing them to swell, buttery fattened in learned exhibitionistic shame.

Thus muted and open she was an image he treasured as they pulled into the driveway of the truck stop. The air had a weight of unmistakable diesel taste. Huge idling engines rumbled and purred on either side of every row they cruised through .Towering bubbles of cabs, splashes of color assaulting her eyes walled the lanes. Their sleeper units spilled out snatches of country music, grizzled worn faced men stood at open doors chatting and now and then a woman was visible as well.

He kept her in his peripheral sight as they drove at a crawl. She lay there agitated . Her distress palpable. Bytched up in terror her eyes darting from image to image all new to her . Her nerves in disarray.

Returning his arm to its place along her torso he cupped the creamy buttery lips. Rough curving finger tips conflictingly gentle. Her turmoil was evidenced by the moisture she spilled onto the puffy labial pillows. His fingers came to rest with the middle one within her cleft the tip at her tight compressed entrance. The ripple of turbulence he caused minimal compared to the sights she absorbed.

His low comfort voice started its narration for her, "lil girl you see these trucks ,the Men, here and there, a young girl all painted up in slutty make up, looking like whores ,.....cause they are lil girl, whore.. that a woman who services ..pleasures for reasons other than her own arousal..like for money or to please someone else..see how young they are lil girl"pausing to watch her look mortified , pale in the street lights.

" This is where lil girls get lost when their bad girls", patting her open sex reassuringly , " Not like my lil girl "

" My lil girls a good girl , she minds....never wanna end up in a place like this, the Men trade these girls and pass em around , ..like borrowing a book at the library....sell em like dolls.....use em in hard ..rough ways that ruin the girl for life......"

Echoed in her brain were the words "ruin her "..."ruin her for life" as if it were a slow painful death. She lay near catatonic as Daddy wound the car back to the exit.

Then Daddy stopped the car. The whine of her window gliding down hit her in a cool splash.

"Hey there, can you tell me where ta get back on the highway Northbound", Daddy's voice carried across her in the night. She froze catatonic with fear as the Man looked in while Daddy listened for directions she knew he didn’t need.

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