Aunt Maggie

I thought I'd change things up a bit in this chapter. There won't be any of Aunt Maggie's and Christy's role playing, and neither has a major part.

Many of you said you like Daisy. I do, too. A lot. So, I'm expanding on her character and introducing a new one.

Just a note that I always make: My main characters at simply special girls. I never refer them as shemales, tgirls or trannies. I believe my style makes them more feminine.

I'd love your comments and suggestions for a Part 6: lovepinkpumps@excite.com

The usual disclaimers apply, and please donate to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Aunt Maggie Part 5 By Pink Pumps

A Short Prologue

Hello everyone! This is Daisy, and I want to tell you a story about me and a brand-new friend.

In Part 4, Christy told you how fast I was growing, and nothing's gotten in the way. I'm 14 years old now, nearing 5'7", and I weigh about 110 pounds.

I've been on hormones for two years and I've developed natural 32AA boobies. I LOVE to wear lacy unlined bras because they tease my nipples and make me soooo horney!

Christy (Mommy) and I still go out with Tom and Troy a lot. I really enjoy the sucking and fucking, and our loving Maggie (Mama) even got "the big one" from Thomas. Mama and Mommy bought a lake house and the six of us have spent some weekends there.

Of course, I still share a bed with Mama and Mommy, but as fast as I'm growing, the big bed is going to need to be bigger soon. No complaints, however.

I'm in my final year of middle school – 9th grade – at the private coeducational college-preparatory academy Maggie and Christy enrolled me in. That's all I want to tell you about me at the moment. So let's get to the rest of the story and my new friend ...

Chapter 1

The school year had just begun, and our first classes would start in about an hour. I was on my way to check out my new home room when I heard laughter coming from one of the 7th grade classrooms (7th grade is the first year of middle school).

Being curious, I had to see what was so funny. I saw a group of six boys in a back corner and they were obviously having a good time. Not wanting to interrupt the fun, I turned to walk away.

Then I heard it: Soft sobbing, followed by a gasp of "please stop!"

So what was going on? Well, I was going to find out because someone was not real pleased at the moment.

I was able to peek over the shortest boy and saw who was crying: A little girl was being harassed by the group. They were grabbing at her, bumping her, pushing her, and trying to feel her up. She was fighting back as best she could ... and losing.

Her backpack had been ripped open and her spanking new books scattered on the floor.

Never the shy one, I broke trough their ranks and got a closer look at the subject of their scorn. She was tiny – maybe 4'4"; around 60 pounds – and she was wearing a pair of round black-framed glasses.

If you're thinking hoot owl, well, you would have the wrong image because she was gorgeous. There's simply no confusing her beauty with an owl. And her glasses made her look so vulnerable.

She had straight brown hair that was cut dutch-girl style but with longer bangs. Her big eyes were also brown, and her skin porcelain. If I hadn't seen her moving, I'd swear she was an oversized doll.

"What the fuck's going on?" I asked as I wedged myself in between the boys and their pint-sized victim.

"Whoa! You got a foul mouth on you, bitch!" said the biggest boy in the group.

"She's a weird-o," he continued, pointing to the girl. "She won't talk to any of us."

"Maybe she doesn't like talking to assholes!" I shouted. "And I'm a 9th grader; you're a 7th grade asshole picking on a little girl. I can get get away with talking like this to an asshole."

"Are you calling me an asshole?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh honey, you're such a dumb shit. I've already called you an asshole three times," I laughed. "You must really be stupid to take that long to pick up on it."

Then he made the mistake of lunging at me.

I guess now would be a good time to tell you Mama insisted that Mommy and I take self-defense classes after our first night with Tom and Troy. That was a fun game, for sure, but one day it might be real. We special girls have to be extra careful, right? An abundance of caution, and all ...

Like I said, he made a mistake. A BIG one. I kneed him in the nuts so hard he doubled over in pain. Then I crushed his nose with a right uppercut. He collapsed to the floor spewing blood, then started throwing up.

A second boy came at me. I gabbed one of his hands in both of mine and shoved his thumb so far back and so hard I could actually hear the joint splinter. He too screamed and crumpled to the floor.

You may wonder if I was worried about getting in trouble for the damage I'd done to two students. Well, if you were two boys who'd just had your asses kicked by one girl, would you tattle?

The rest of the boys scattered like a flushed covey of quail.

I pulled the little girl to me and hugged her until she calmed down.

"What if they come back?" she asked in a melodic voice with somewhat of a Southern accent. It was almost as if she sang her words. She pronounced "back" as "baaaack".

I said: "If you were them, would you come back?"

I nudged one of the turds in the ribs with a foot and said: "When you two can get your sorry asses up, go to the boys locker room and get some towels. Clean this shit up. You've got 30 minutes until your classmates start coming in. Or do you want to explain all this?"

We gathered her torn backpack and books, then I took the little thing's hand and guided her to the girls restroom. I pulled some paper towels from the dispenser, took her into a stall, locked the door, sat on the toilet lid, lifted her onto my lap, and wiped the tears from her face.

I held some toilet tissue it to her nose, and said: "Blow."

She did, and then actually giggled when she was done. Ah, signs of life! She was doll, no doubt, but a living one.

"Sweetie, what were you doing alone in that room?" I asked.

"It's my new home room," she answered.

Slightly shocked, I sputtered: "Wait, what? You're a 7th grader? You have to be 12 years old to be a 7th grader ... uh... and you're not ... uh ... there's NO WAY you're 12!"

At our school, we wear two different designs of uniforms. I had on the more traditional: Pleated plaid skirt, white collard blouse, white knee socks, and black three-inch Mary Jane's. She was wearing the alternate style that incorporates the same school-color plaid, but in a one-piece dress with a bib top.

Our blouses aren't exactly sheer, but you can tell who's wearing a bra and who isn't. And she wasn't. If I needed further proof, the assholes had handled her so roughly the buttons on her bib had popped off and it had fallen to her waist. I got an even closer look at her flat chest.

"Honey, you haven't even started puberty!" I said. "You CAN'T be 12!"

"But I AM 12! I AM!" she insisted. "I AM a 7th grader!"

"Look, I've been 12. And you aren't. How old are you really? And what's your name?"

She was silent for a moment, then said: "Okay. I'm 10 and my name is Emma. I skipped two grades."

"Wow, Emma! You must really be smart! I'm Daisy."

"I know who you are," she said. "You're the most popular girl in school. I heard those boys talking about you and the stuff they wanted to do to you. Sex stuff."

"As pretty as you are, by the time you're a 9th grader, YOU'LL be the most popular girl in school."

"Nuh, uh," she said. "When I'm in 9th grade, I'll only be 12, and no 12 year old will ever be the most popular girl in school."

"And what were those boys trying to do to you on your fist day of middle school, pray tell?" I asked. "`Sex stuff', right? Does that prove to you how popular you'll be?"

Then I giggled: "Even if you don't do `sex stuff' with the boys you'll be popular. I don't and you heard what they said."

And I really hadn't done much with the schoolboys here. I have to be VERY careful with my secret at school, right? I mean, I've had my boobies felt up outside my blouse. And I've given handjobs to one boy I like a lot. I've even let him – and ONLY him – take off my blouse and bra. But nothing else. Certainly no hands under my skirt yet ... not even him.

Still, I wanted to tell Emma about my life as a Pleasure Sissy and the wonderful things I'd done with grown men. I wanted to tell her she was as pretty as any Pleasure Sissy, and even prettier than any biological girl I ever saw. I wanted to tell her that when I was 10, men were paying thousands of dollars a night to do "sex stuff" with me and she was just as desirable. She WAS. I swear she was!

Emma was already growing on me, as you can see, but I knew there was no way she could come close to understanding special girls. She COULDN'T, right?

Chapter 2

There were two chores to knock out before we could head off to our classes.

I had to get the physical one out of the way first: Emma's bib needed new buttons. So we left the restroom and headed for the Home Economics classroom.

She was in front of me for the first few steps as we walked down the hall, and even in the modest dress I could see how long and shapely her legs are. I was going to dream about how those legs would look in pink four-inch stiletto pumps; the ones I wore to the Daddy/Daughter fuck party Mommy came to the night she signed my adoption papers.

And I had a feeling the bootie under that dress was just as sweet. Add those to the rest of her – including the big glasses – and she was in a league of her own among the other girls in her class. There were going to be plenty of guys who'd die to do "sex stuff" with her.

Anyway, I found matching buttons and repaired the bib.

Now it was on to the mental task: It was pretty obvious Emma was new to our school. I'd never seen her around town, and believe me, I would have noticed. It was just as obvious that not only did she feel lost, scared and lonely, she was friendless.

"Emma," I said as I was putting up the needle and thread. "You need to know something: I really like you and want to be your friend."

"You're just saying that `cuz you beat up those boys trying to hurt me, and you want to make me feel better," she said, crying again.

"Stop it!" I said. "I just cleaned off your face, you little pip-squeak!"

Emma giggled. I guess she really is smart to see that I was joking with her and read it into what I'd rather forcefully said. I WAS joking. I'm not so sure I could raise my voice in real anger toward her.

I knelt and took her hands in mine.

"Look," I said, "I know you're new here and you're extra scared after what you just went through. But this is a great school, and as smart and pretty as you are, you'll fit right in in no time."

"Okay," said Emma. "I don't believe you, but I'll trust you after what you did for me."

"That's all I ask, sweetheart," I replied, then kissed her cheek. "Now, let me walk you to your first class."

We returned to Emma's home room and it was filling up fast with chattering 7th graders. But before she walked in, she reached for my hand and squeezed.

"I'm scared, Daisy," she said. "What if those boys are here (pronounced as "heeeere")?"

"Those boy are NOT here," I reassured her. "They're at the emergency room getting patched up and trying to think of an excuse for why they're so beat up."

"Okay," she said and walked into the room.

All eyes locked on Emma – ESPECIALLY the boys' eyes. She understood why and smiled at me. Her sweet smile lit up the room.

"Told you," I mouthed to her, then turned and walked to my first class.

They say the best gift you can give a 12-year-old boy is a 12-year-old girl. Emma might have only been 10, but she was most definitely a gift.

Chapter 3

At lunch time, I noticed Emma eating alone, but her boy classmates were shyly ogling her. She wouldn't be sitting alone in the days to come.

I slid my tray onto the table and said: "May I join you, miss?"

She just smiled that megawatt smile, or as I would come to call it: "The Smile."

After we were done, I took her hand and led her to the bus drop-off/pick-up area. I knew there would be no one around, and we would have some privacy. All I wanted to do was talk to her and make her feel welcome and safe. But there was a MAJOR shock to come.

I sat on a bench and pulled her onto my lap. When she wiggled and squirmed, I felt a stiffy coming ... impossible for that not to happen with her wiggling on my lap ... IMPOSSIBLE! She kept it up and my three circumcised inches rose to full staff. She giggled.

"You feel it, don't you?" I asked, soooo afraid I was about to scare her off.

Again: The Smile.

"Do you understand special girls?" I asked.

She wiggled that little bootie again.

Was that a yes?

I reached under her dress and felt her tiny erect peepee through her cotton panties.

"Emma!" I squealed. "You DO understand!"

Chapter 4

Before I get to Emma's life story, there are a few matters I need to get out of the way:

~ The two boys whose asses I kicked never returned to school. Good riddance. As for the other four, when they see Emma or me, they rush off in the opposite direction. Good decision, boys.

~ I mentioned Emma's butt, but I haven't completely described how perfect it is. I was passing the gym one day while she was in PE. Even though she had on long baggy shorts, I got the image I was hoping for: Her asscheeks looked like two halves of a ripe coconut cut in two and placed side by side. Tiny and tight.

~ Also, she was wearing a sports bra, though there was definitely nothing in it. But that didn't detract from her in the least, what with her face, legs and bootie. And besides, when I was as flat as Emma, men wanted me as much or more as any of the Pleasure Sissies with boobies. I always wondered why. Now I knew: There's something just as sexy, if not more so, about a completely flat little special girl as there is a woman with huge honkers.

Okay, now to her story as she either remembers it or was told:

Emma weighed barely five pounds when she was born, although her mother carried her to term. It was obvious even then that she was going to be small for her age.

On her first birthday, her parents fully accepted that their muffin was far too little, delicate and pretty to be a boy. So the decision was made to raise her as a girl.

Many, many special girls have basically the same story, as you know.

Emma's parents were tragically killed in a car crash when she was four, and she has no memory of it. She bounced around first from an aunt (who filled her in on some details of her life), then from foster home to foster home. Finally someone noticed how smart she is and recommend that she be placed in a home here in town for intellectually gifted orphans. (Sort of like Mistress Kathy taking me in at an even younger age, huh?) She'd been at the home for less than a month when I met her.

Emma's on a full academic scholarship at our school that includes tuition, meals, books and even uniforms.

In another stroke of luck, the home is run by one of the charities that Mama and Mommy support. So as Emma and I grew closer and closer, it was no trouble at all for her to get permission to spend weekends with us. She even stayed with us on Sunday nights then rode with me to school on Mondays.

If there's anything Emma lacked, it was clothes for after school. She had a crisp, clean uniform every day, but not much else.

I told you I sleep with Mama and Mommy, but I do have my own room where I keep my clothes and computer, and where I study. My closet is PACKED with clothes I've outgrown. In fact, I grew so fast, most of them have barely been worn.

Who better to wear them than Emma?

The first weekend at our house, she was trying on clothes, and before long – before she even realized it, I'm sure – she was standing stark naked in front of me. Her little peeny erected. Two inches, tops ... poking straight out ... pink ... circumcised ... and oh soooo cute!

Her nut sack was all but nonexistent.

I think she was a little shocked and embarrassed when she realized she was naked with a stiffy and tried to cover up. But I rushed to her and held her hands down.

"Don't hide anything, Emma. You're perfect," I said as I slid in beside her.

"But I don't have boobies," she whispered. "How can I be perfect?"

Okay, now it was time for me to tell her about my Pleasure Sissy days and how small and flat-chested I was when the first big cock slid into my fuck hole. Emma listened wide-eyed.

"So the men thought you were sexy when you were as flat as me?" she squeaked in that musical voice of hers.

"Yup," I said.

"And you sucked their thingys and they put `em in your pooper?"

"Yup."

"And it felt good?"

I explained the initial pain and how you have to adjust after a cockhead clears your anal ring. I told her all the men I'd been with were very gentle and did everything they could to make me feel good.

"So men will like me, too, Daisy?" Emma asked.

"There's no doubt, honey," I replied. "But Emma, you need to understand that just because I did things with men when I was your age doesn't mean you have to. Remember, I was raised as a Pleasure Sissy and I was prepared. I'm not so sure you're ready for a man. Or even a boy, for that matter."

She thought about that a second, then said: "No. Not yet."

I pulled her onto the bed with me and we hugged and starting kissing. But she pressed her lips so hard to mine I had to push her away!

"Easy, baby," I giggled. "Do it softly. Pretend I'm a butterfly."

Boy, did she catch on QUICK!

I reached down and took her rock-hard jewel between my thumb and forefinger. I began to lightly stroke it and she purred.

"Emma, before we do anything more, there's something I need for you to understand." I said. "I'm a `bottom' and always will be."

That took some explaining, and I had to do it in a way that would make her understand how much I wanted her sexually. I described lesbians and that I wanted her to think of us like that. I told her how Mommy and I have sex, and how GREAT it is.

There would be plenty of time to tell her how attracted I am to grown men!

"Do you get `bottoms', Emma?" I asked.

"Yeah. I do. And that's fine as long as you keep doing sex stuff to me."

"Oh honey," I sighed. "Try to stop me."

Chapter 5

I broke the embrace of my new best friend and lifted her onto her feet. Then I went to my closet and began pulling out items that were DEFINITELY NOT after-school wear for a 10 year old ... unless you're a special girl, right?

First, I hooked my smallest garterbelt (pink!) around Emma's waist and snapped it.

"Sit," I instructed her, then rolled a pair of opaque white stockings up her long legs and hooked the garterbelt straps to them. I guess they felt as good on her as they do me because she started purring again. Just wait until she feels the tug of the garterbelt straps when she walks!

I returned to my closet and dug around until I found the perfect compliment to what she had on. You can guess, huh? The pink four-inch stiletto pumps I dreamed of Emma wearing!

I pulled her to her feet, she wobbled around a bit, got her balance, then I guided her to my full-length mirror. Emma stood, stared, then squealed: "Wow!"

"Wow is right, hot stuff," I giggled.

"So am I pretty, Daisy?"

"No, honeybun. Not pretty. Gorgeous."

I got The Smile in return.

"Your turn to get naked now!" Emma laughed.

So of course I did! Who am I to say no to a sexy little special schoolgirl in a garterbelt, stockings and heels?

I stripped, then put on a pair of sheer white lace-top thigh-highs with red bows at the top, and my red five-inch "fuck me, fuck me" stiletto pumps.

We laid back down on the bed, and the first things Emma went for were my boobies. I don't have much, but in her tiny paws, they're an honest hand full.

"Wait, honey," I giggled. "Let me make you feel good first. There will be plenty of time for you to explore all of me."

We kissed gently for awhile, then I licked and kissed my way down past her neck to her flat chest.

Puuuurrrrr!

I know Mommy told you that when she met me, my areola were dime-size and so pink they were nearly invisible. Emma's are identical. Even though her nipples are tiny, I was able to gently teeth them and she squirmed and bucked in pleasure.

I worked on both little diamonds until I was pretty sure she was about to cum, then pulled away.

"Noooo!" she hissed. "Daaaaiiiissssyyyy! Noooo! Don't stop! Please!"

"Hang on, Emma," I said. "It gets even better."

I lightly tongued her inny belly button and then made my way to her treasure.

"Remember me telling you your peeny is really a clitty?" I asked.

"Yeeeesssss," she moaned.

"Okay, remember bottoms' don't put special-girl peenys in our mouths or pooties? But we kiss and lick clittys', right?"

"Yeeeesssss," she moaned again.

I kissed the head of her swollen love button and a bone-dry orgasm rocked her.

Emma caught her breath, then sighed: "Oooooh! What happened?"

"You had an orgasm, honey!" I laughed. "Hang on and I'll make you cum again."

I wanted to see if she was multi-orgasmic. I certainly am. On a slow night at Daddy/Daughter fuck parties I'd have four orgasms. On a good night, six or more.

By the way – and since I don't know if you are aware of this – I started sucking cock when I was eight, and lost my virginity at nine. Mistress Kathy's Pleasure Sissies are royally paid, so call me a child prostitute if you choose. But also be aware of this: I wouldn't trade my life for anyone's, and I don't regret a second of my Pleasure Sissy days.

Anyway, I began to lick up and down her tiny stalk, then tongued her virgin hole before inserting a middle finger up to the second knuckle.

"Hurts!" she moaned.

"I know Emma. I know. Just relax your pooper muscles and breath. It's going to feel really, really good if you can do that. I won't move until you're ready."

She wiggled her butt around a little, adjusting like a pro, then said: "Okay, I'm ready."

I pushed my finger in all the way and twirled it.

"Uuuung!" Emma sighed. "Ohooooo!"

I twirled my finger again and said: "This is your fuck hole, honey."

"Okay," she said, tightening and loosening her rectum muscles. "It's my fuck hole."

"You're doing great, Emma. My finger is a cock. Tell me what you have in your fuck hole."

She gasped and said, "I have a cock in my fuck hole."

After two minutes of fingering, Emma came again – this time it was even more intense. I swear tears were flowing from of those big brown eyes as she shook and spasmed.

After she calmed down, I rocked her and kissed her. I told I loved her. And even better, she told me she loved me, too. After only a few minutes, her breathing slowed and evened out. She'd dropped into a deep sleep.

I'd made Emma happy. That was enough for now. I had no doubt she could and would make me feel just as happy.

Chapter 6

The next morning, Emma and I asked Mommy to take us to the beach and she readily agreed. It was late fall and we probably wouldn't be able to spend much time in the water, but the day was still warm and sunny.

We dressed in fairly modest bikinis – all bright white. Then we covered up with sundresses, grabbed towels and headed out.

Mommy had a surprise for us – the beach she took us to was clothing optional. I actually thought it was a pretty cool idea – Emma was going to have to get a good look at cocks at some point. Why not in the safety of Mommy and me?

We wiggled out of our sundresses as soon as we got there, and left them in Mommy's SUV.

When we reached the beach, Mommy said: "Take `em off."

"Mom-meeee!" I squealed. "We can't take everything off!"

"No, Daisy, of course not EVERYTHING," Mommy giggled. "Just tops."

I'm sort of proud of my 32AAs and had very little trouble complying. Mommy's 34Bs are just as perfect as ever.

Emma, however, was a different story.

"Noooo!" she pleaded. "I don't have anything up there!"

I grabbed her and Mommy untied her top and slipped it off, but Emma was smiling and laughing.

"Don't you DARE put your hands over those perfect nipples!" I said, and she didn't.

The three of us walked down the beach holding hands. Heads turned. I'm sure we looked like three sisters in various stages of boobie development – all with delicious asses and legs – and that's just fine.

By the way, Emma has contacts now and was wearing them, but I INSIST she wears her glasses at school. I really love that look ... the little girl next door ... a very shy and mysterious hotty ... an unknowing Lolita with hidden treasures just waiting to be discovered ...

I guess it goes without saying Emma was mesmerized by the cocks on display – especially the big ones, which led to the obvious questions:

"Daaaaiiiissssyyyy!!! You can get those big things in your pooper when they get stiff???!!!"

Then she giggled: "Sorry. You can get those big cocks in your fuck hole?"

Mommy and I laughed, then I said: "I can, honey. So can Mommy. It feels great. You'll see when you're ready."

I don't know if she believed me, but she said the day I met her she would trust me, and she always has.

We found a spot, laid out our towels, oiled each other up and began to bake in the sun. Then I dropped off to sleep, and was awakened by a voice I recognized.

"Hello, ladies. All of you are beautiful."

Oh, no! It was the boy from school I like so much!

His name is Shane, and he was wearing a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts. But for some reason, I thought that was good. It would probably not have been a great thing for Emma to see a schoolboy's cock just yet – a fellow student's cock – even though Shane's a junior in high school.

"Shane, please don't tell anybody!" I begged, grabbing for a clean towel to cover up.

"Why would I? This is a very pleasant surprise," he said.

"Oh, Daisy," Mommy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Do you think for even a moment that I don't know Shane's seen your boobs?"

I had to laugh ... and feel relieved.

Shane had an ice chest full of beer and he graciously shared. Even Emma imbibed, but it didn't take but one to get her buzzed, and another later on to keep the buzz going. And I think she relaxed about being a flat little special girl on a crowded nude beach.

So, the four of us sunned, frolicked and laughed for so long we looked like lobsters when we headed home.

When we arrived, Emma was so zonked out (Beer? Sun? Both?) Mommy had to carry her up to my room.

I stripped off our sundresses and bikini bottoms, then snuggled up next to her. I covered us with a comforter and settled in for a naked nap.

I awoke to feel a warm mouth licking and sucking my boobies.

"My, what a pleasant way to wake up," I sighed as I yawned and stretched.

I let her suck for a moment, then asked: "Emma, that day when you felt my stiffy, did you somehow know I was a special girl?"

"Yeah," she said.

"How did you know?"

"I just did."

"But HOW, honey? There has to be a reason."

"`Cuz you're too pretty to be a real girl. Special girls are prettier."

"Honey, we're REAL girls, just not biological girls," I said. "Do you understand?"

"Of course," she giggled. "We're special. They're not."

Told you she was smart.

"Honey, you're right – special girls are soooo special, and men want us BAD," I said. "Our fuck holes are so tight, and we have more muscle control than biological girls. I told you how much men paid to be with me. There's a reason, baby, and you already know it. We're just better."

"Yup," she giggled.

Chapter 6

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, my love for Emma grew ... and hers for me.

But what I was feeling for her was not the same as the love I have for Mama and Mommy. I felt so protective of Emma, and so dedicated to her happiness.

We're with each other at school a lot, of course, and we spend tons of time on the weekends together.

I swear I think she loves the lake house more than Mama, Mommy and me. The munchkin almost refuses to come inside if it's warm and sunny. She's turned golden with sexy bikini lines. Her little butt is a beacon of white light!

And, yes, sexually Emma made me as happy as I made her. I wasn't surprised at all at how easily she shifted gears during our "sex stuff" to take complete control and pleasure me.

I still managed to spend some quality time with Shane and what we have was becoming more intense, as well. It was time to kick it up a notch with Shane, and I had a plan.

It would start at our school's spring dance – an event for both middle- and high-school students.

Shane asked me to go with him, even though I would be the only middle girl to have a date with high school boy. I knew Shane would ask me, but it was still flattering.

First, I had to make some very strategic on-line purchases. I have many pairs of French cut panties that are well-padded in the crotch. You can probably figure out the purpose of the padding, right? Emma would need some as my plan unfolded. I bought her a dozen pair in an assortment of colors.

Second, I discussed in detail my entire plan with Mommy and Mama, and they heartily approved, but that's all I'll say for now. Ha!

Anyway, I was sitting with Shane in his car after a movie ... blouse and bra off ... stroking his cock ... when I popped the question: "Shane, if I promise to make you VERY happy afterward, could Emma go to the dance with us?"

"Sure! Of course!" he said. "I really like Emma. Does she have a date?"

"No," I replied. "Plenty of boys asked her, but I didn't want her to have a date. You'll see why. Okay?"

"Absolutely. So how are you going to make me very happy?"

"It's my secret for now, silly," I teased as I quickened my stroking. After a few minutes his breathing became erratic and his cock spasmed. I was rewarded with a small fountain of cum. Guess I did it right, huh?

I licked my fingers and said: "Tasty, Shane. Very tasty."

Chapter 7

Since we were going to the first party of spring, the girls would be breaking out their newest spring finery.

I knew what I wanted to wear, and I'll tell you about it in a minute.

For Emma, I picked out a white knee-length a-line dress with white lace trim at the hemline. The dress was cinched at the waist by a four-inch-wide pink ribbon with a huge bow in the back. Streamers from the bow extended to just above her bootie.

She was standing on a box having the hem adjusted and was looking at herself in a three-sided mirror. Well, she was starring actually, and I still don't think she realizes even yet how pretty she is. I noticed a tiny hard peepee bump (no one else would) so I knew my panty purchases for her were a good idea.

Since she's soooo tan, I decided Emma wouldn't wear stockings. I wanted everyone to see how perfect her longs legs are.

I told you I LOVE her in her four-inch pink pumps, but she's in middle school after all, and hadn't been out in public wearing them. So I bought her a pair of pink three-inch peep-toe pumps with pink bows above the toe-holes. Emma had them on for her fitting, and I swear she was pure perfection.

As for me, I chose a black strapless tea-length dress with a chiffon skirt of layer upon layer of lacy billowing black petticoats. The tight satin bodice showed a tiny bit of real cleavage!

I would wear a black garterbelt, a black pair of my special panties, ultra-sheer black stockings, and black strappy four-inch stiletto sandals.

The Friday night of the dance, Emma and I shared a bubble bath and went through the whole process of powder, perfume, hair styling, etc.

By the way, I talked Emma into letting her hair grow and it reaches her shoulders now. And it has some natural waves, although it looked straight when it was cut short.

Mommy applied very light pink blush to her cheeks, pink lip gloss, and darker eyeliner.

As for me, my makeup was darker than I usually wear, but it wasn't exactly what you would call "bedroom" dark.

Emma wore a single-strand pearl necklace and a wide sterling-silver bracelet. In her pierced ears were diamond studs.

My jewelry was all gold, and I won't waste your time describing it, but I will mention that I wore a black choker with a cameo.

And of course Emma wouldn't be Emma without her glasses.

Mama took what seemed like 100 pictures of us, then we heard the doorbell.

Shane was dressed in a spring suit and white bucks. Again, I won't waist your time on further details.

The dance wasn't a formal, so we wouldn't wear corsages, but Shane pinned a pink rose on Emma and a red one on me. He wore a white tulip boutonnière.

Chapter 8

As Shane and I danced, Emma's cute butt didn't move away from our table, despite having boy after boy approach her. When the band took a break, I asked her why.

"Uh, well ... uh," she stammered. "Uh ... I don't know how to dance."

I looked at Shane and asked: "Remember the deal to make you very happy?"

He answered with a question of his own: "How in the hell could I forget?"

"Well, here's part one: Teach Emma to dance."

"Noooo!" she sang in the sexy voice of hers. "Pleeease, no! I'll be soooo embarrassed!"

We were having none of that. Shane picked her up, walked onto the dance floor – her feet dangling two feet in the air – and began to twirl. After a minute or so, Emma started to squeal and laugh like she did when we took her top off at the beach. He put her down and she became a natural. A SULTRY natural without even trying ... a 10-year-old siren ... with a tiny peepee and a tight little fuck hole ...

~ I imagined her stripping at a Daddy/Daughter fuck party. When I thought she was ready, I promised myself I'd talk to Mistress Kathy about it.

~ And maybe Mama could start fucking her with a small dildo attached to her strap-on. She would definitely need fuck-hole stretching for a Daddy/Daughter party!

Whatever ... we needed to make this little angle more available to men.

Before the night was over, there was a line of boys – even high-school boys – waiting to dance with Emma. She refused to slow dance, but I suspected she didn't trust her new pink panties just yet.

After the dance was over, the three of us jumped in Shane's truck and headed out. It has a bench seat, and Emma was secured between us.

"Shaaaaaaane!" I teased. "Remember our deal? Drive us to the lake house.

I swear he floored it.

When we arrived and walked inside, I asked Shane to sit on one of the leather couches.

"Give us a moment?" I asked.

He replied: "Hey, I'm just along to drive. You two are the bosses.

"Okay," I laughed. "Then off with your clothes."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, stud-muffin. We'll be right back."

Chapter 9

We went into the bedroom, I unzipped Emma's dress, and she stepped out of it. At first, I assumed she'd freak. But then I realized Shane had already seen her topless and she very will remembered that! I'm positive he did, too.

I sat my little cutie on the bed and took off her heels. I massaged Emma's feet, because they had to be sore after all the dancing she'd done for the first time in her 10 years on this earth. A purr followed. I love that sweet sound of contentment she makes!

Then I reached into a bag I'd stashed in the room and pulled out a pair of opaque white thigh-highs with pink bows at the top. I guess there's no denying I really like thigh-highs with bows, huh?

I rolled them up her incredible legs, then slid on her four-inch pink stiletto pumps.

The only thing I did was exchange my strappy four-inch stilettos for "fuck me, fuck me" 5.5-inchers.

We walked out and stood before an already-hard Shane.

"Like what you see?" I asked.

"Never seen anything more beautiful," he replied.

"Make me a promise, Shane. And I'm deadly serious about this," I said as firmly as I could. "No hands on our crotches, and we will not for any reason take our panties off."

"I promise," he said.

"Say all of it."

"I promise I will not touch either of you between the legs. And I won't ask you to take off your panties for any reason."

"Good boy," I giggled. "Now here comes your reward from us both for a special night."

I led Emma to the couch and she snuggled up next to Shane while I straddled him. I could feel his hard cock in my asscrack, and I began to hump on it.

I locked lips with his and for at least two minutes gave him my best wet kiss.

"Like the way I kiss, big stud?" I asked, pulling away from him.

"The best ever," Shane said.

"Um, well, maybe not THE best," I giggled. "But one of the TWO best."

"Who's as good as you?"

"Why, honey, she's sitting right next to you!"

I swapped places with Emma and she felt her first cock sliding between those tight little asscheeks. I cupped one and showed her how to hump like I did.

They started kissing and I heard purrs ... from BOTH!

"Told you she was good," I said. "So, do you like those tiny nipples, too?"

He didn't answer, but he broke their kiss and began to suck on one. (I guess he was waiting for my permission?)

"Puuuurrrrr!" from Emma.

After he'd done his duty on the other nipple, I knelt on the floor between Shane's legs and pulled Emma down beside me.

Then the fun REALLY began. I sucked and licked on Shane's cock as much for my pleasure as his ... and also to show Emma how it's done.

When I felt him start to tense, I said, "Not yet."

I moved Emma in between us and offered Shane's cock to her. She attacked it so hungrily she gagged!

"Lightly, honey," I whispered in her ear as I lightly pinched her hard nipples. "Just like I taught you to kiss."

In just a few seconds, she was sucking as naturally as she danced. That's my girl!

When Shane started to spasm, I pulled Emma from his cock and we both opened our mouths to receive Shane's cum erruption. I'm sure we looked like two hungry newborn birds in a nest!

The first rope hit me squarely in the face then flooded my mouth. Shane was still shooting cum when I aimed his cock at Emma's mouth and she lapped it up. Again – a natural!

We licked and sucked Shane's cock clean, then we joined him on the couch. I pulled Emma onto my lap and he wrapped his arms around both of us.

"Can I say I never dreamed of anything that good?" he asked as we relaxed.

"Of course you can say it!" I laughed. "But what did you expect from two dream girls?"

Over the course of the night, Emma and I coaxed three more orgasms from Shane ... including one while Emma and I put on a show for him as he stroked his cock. We sucked each other's nipples and fingered pooties, but of course we didn't reveal what was pulsating in our panties. I explained the pucker fingering by saying we were both untouched virgins in our pussies.

But I will say this: On our next date, Shane's cock was going in my fuck hole.

A Short Final Chapter

The next morning, we girls sucked and licked Shane into another ball-draining orgasm. Emma swallowed the whole load with no problem at all. She was a pro in the making.

There was no doubt in my mind that she would thrive at a Daddy/Daughter fuck party, and I was confident that Mommy and Mistress Kathy would be more than happy to make the arrangements.

But anyway, when we arrived home, Thomas was pulling out of our drive and he honked and waved. In his hand was one of his ubiquitous binders. I didn't think much about it, even though it was a Saturday morning. Mama and Mommy have tons of dealings with him so I just made the assumption he was at our house on business.

Shane escorted us to the door and kissed us both goodbye.

When Emma and I entered the den, Mama and Mommy were seated on one of the two couches drinking Champagne. Whatever business they'd had with Thomas had obviously gone well.

Mama motioned for Emma and me to take a seat on the coach opposite them, then poured two glasses of the pink bubbly for us.

Mommy said: "So Daisy, remember the night I signed the adoption papers at the Daddy/Daughter fuck party?"

"Of course," I replied. "It was the happiest day of my great life."

"Well, do you remember that you knew something I didn't?"

"Yeah," I laughed. "And I did!"

"Now it's my turn," she said. "I know something you don't. And so does Emma."

"Huh?" I asked.

"Hey, Big Sis!" Emma said in that sing-song voice.

Mommy and Mommy had adopted her, too? They'd just signed the papers? That's what was in Thomas' binder? Could my world get any better?

All I could manage to sputter was: "We're gonna' need a bigger bed."