From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: EDWARD’S CHILDREN 1   
      
   By bobandcarole   
      
      
   Story Code:        MF   Mg    Mf    fgg   bg   Fb  ped / pedo   inc   
   hetero   oral   anal   ws   
      
      
      
   Chapter 	Title	   
   1	SARAH GEORGE AND AMY	   
   2	SUJA INTRODUCES TUTI 	   
   3	TUTI CAUGHT STEALING	   
   4	DISCOVERING SARAH’S FANTASIES	   
   5	TUTI’S PERIODS AND PERSONAL HYGIENE	   
   6	TUTI STARTS SCHOOL	   
   7	AMY ENTRUSTED TO THE CARE OF UNCLE EDDIE	   
   8	THE STORY OF THE MAGIC BUTTON	   
   9	AMY TELLS HER SECRETS	   
   10	TUTI ESCAPES A FORCED MARRIAGE	   
   11	EXPLORING WITH AMY	   
   12	MEETING KATY’S MOM	   
   13	AMY AND KATY STAY-OVER	   
   14	JENNY AND JENNY	   
   15	SLEEPING WITH LISA	   
   16	EDDIE REACHES NEW DEPTHS OF DEPRAVITY	   
   17	EDDIE’S OFFERED A JOB IN THE PORN BUSINESS	   
   18	EDDIE AND JENNY, PARTNER IN CRIME	   
   19	DOUBLE BOOKING FOR THE WEEKEND	   
      
   Chapter 1. SARAH GEORGE AND AMY   
      
   My name’s Edward Cunningham.  I work in the petrochemical industry.  My   
   job takes me to different countries.  I’ve always considered myself a   
   normal heterosexual male.  In fact, years back, I used to say to myself   
   that I was lucky not to be cursed with a need to dress up in rubber or   
   whip myself to get my rocks off.  I’d done all the usual kinky stuff   
   that nine out of ten people do and there was, and still is, sufficient   
   diversity in those things to keep me happy.  That all changed when I met   
   a little girl some years back.  I was working in Indonesia at the time.   
     She is the daughter of friends and she was two years old when we first   
   met.  Her dad, George was an engineer and he’d joined the company   
   bringing his wife Sarah and their daughter, Amy, to Indonesia with him.   
      
   I’d been with the company for several years and in Jakarta for five   
   years prior to George’s arrival.  I was there with my wife Pam.  Pam and   
   I had married young, me 20, she 19, and our children were both at   
   boarding school in the UK.   
      
   George and Sarah had also married young but for career reasons had put   
   off having children.  So although there was a big difference in the age   
   of our children, there was less than 5 years between us.   
      
   Pam and I were golfers, George and Sarah had recently started playing   
   golf and so that common interest started our friendship.  George and I   
   teamed up for ‘better ball’ competitions; our high / low combination   
   winning us many prizes.   
      
   The expatriate life style is work hard, play hard.  We were very much in   
   the deep end of the social set.  We burnt the candle at both ends;   
   Monday to Friday was boys’ night out, drinking at the golf club.   
   Weekends was barbecues and dinners which also involved much singing and   
   dancing.   
      
   Sarah was a liberated woman and although she had taken a break from her   
   career as a lawyer after the birth of Amy, she was not going to let that   
   get in the way of her doing exactly what she wanted to do.  She insisted   
   that George shared the chores including looking after Amy.   
      
   That often meant that George had to either stay at home with Amy or   
   brought her with him when we played golf.  As soon as she was out of   
   nappies he started bringing her along.  We’d take a cart and she would   
   sit on the drivers lap.  After the game we’d sit outside and Amy would   
   run around or play with her dolls whilst we had a drink.   
      
   That was our life and Amy grew up a part of it.  She grew up in the   
   company of adults, often male only and often whilst they were drinking   
   dancing and generally having a good time.   
      
   Amy was a great kid, she was fun, mischievous, always wanting to try   
   anything, she was one of the boys.  I know it sounds bizarre, but you   
   could have a group of guys stood in circle drinking and talking and she   
   be there amongst us and chipping her bit in like one of the boys.  I   
   don’t mean she was able to discuss the political situation in the far   
   east but she could burp and fart like anyone of us and she did.  She   
   would also insist on having a beer and not a soft drink.  Her dad had to   
   get the bar staff to water down a bottle of beer and get the waitress to   
   serve her and even then she’d sometimes test it against others to see if   
   it had been watered down.   
      
   At some point in time I started looking at Amy as more than just a   
   child.  I can’t recall when that was, It may have been when she started   
   wriggling on my lap whilst I was driving the golf cart.  It may have   
   been the mischievous look on her face as she looked at me looking at her   
   whilst she squatted to do a piddle alongside the cart.  It may have been   
   when she stood in front of me dripping wet from the pool chattering away   
   whilst unconsciously scratching her ‘front bottom’ as she called it.  It   
   may have been when she first grabbed my dick (if she wasn’t getting   
   attention or was feeling naughty she’d punch you in the nuts).   
   I can recall one time when she’d been swimming and had taken her bathing   
   suit off and was wrapped in a towel.  She was chattering away to me   
   holding the towel across her and she raised her hands to rub her eyes   
   and in doing so the towel opened and exposed that puffy little ‘front   
   bottom’.  She was totally unaware that it was exposed and stayed exposed   
   after she’d finished wiping her eyes and continued to chatter.  She must   
   have been about three or four years old at the time but that image   
   burned itself into my head.   
   		   
   I can see it now as clearly as I saw it then, so white and podgy.  The   
   flesh folding in to form a simple black line in the centre of a ‘V’.   
   When I think about what I was looking at it’s very difficult to explain   
   why it caused the little guy in my pants to turn from putty to steel.   
   She was chattering away and I was squirming trying to make room for my   
   dick which had a mind of it’s own.  That mind, that ‘little head’, took   
   control of my body; it took control of all my body’s resources and   
   channelled them into a few inches of flesh.   
      
   Finally, her mother called her and she ran off.  I went to the toilets   
   and I don’t think I reached a dozen stroke before the little guy had   
   liquidised my whole inside and ejected it at speed through the end of a   
   very swollen purple head.   
      
   That was it; I was hooked. I couldn’t count the number of times, over   
   the proceeding months that I’d jacked off to that sight. I started   
   dreaming about her.  Of course the dreams revealed what I wanted to do,   
   what turned me on.  Strangely I found myself getting as much   
   satisfaction from dreaming of kissing her lips as I did from kissing her   
   pussy.  My dreams were never detailed enough to explain how I got to the   
   stage of being intimate.  They usually started and ended with the intimacy.   
      
   During those early days I would wake before any physical contact with   
   any of her body below the waist.  I would wake out of fear. I wanted so   
   much to stick my tongue between those legs and something in my brain   
   wouldn’t let me do it because it knew that if I did I would be caught.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)