Alice

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Alice Page 6

by Bradley Stoke


  She shared the compartment of the train with several other people: most of them very much older than her. In front of her, an elderly man was reading a newspaper, but Alice was not to be outdone. Blanche had lent her a copy of a Brook newspaper, a tabloid which she said would help her get an understanding of the district. It contained many pictures of naked people, but these were mostly just photographs accompanying articles about fairly dull things such as garden fetes, mayoral banquets, goat farming or whatever. There were however certain pictures that could only have been inserted for titillation, and these featured not just nudity but full sex. The captions were of a fairly odd nature saying things like “Geraldine’s nipples are even harder now that there’s something hard up her cunt”, “John’s certainly come to a fortune now!”, “Mummy never told her about using the back entrance” and “How many pricks can you get inside you?” This coyness was in curious contrast to the explicit photographs of all sorts of sexual behaviour.

  As the train travelled along, the passengers disembarked at the stations on the way, and soon Alice was in the compartment by herself. She occupied her time looking out of the window at the countryside passing by and leafing through her newspaper. All at once she started as a loud sound came from outside at a station where the train had stopped.

  “That certainly surprised you!” commented a little voice. Alice looked back at the source of the sound, which was a boy about the same age as Alice. He actually looked young for his age, but Alice could see that he wasn’t too young, by virtue of the fact that he was wearing no clothes. This shocked Alice a little too: a fact that must have been noticed by the boy as he crossed his legs.

  “Are we in Brook already?” Alice asked ‑ as this seemed an appropriate response to the boy’s nakedness.

  “No, not quite,” the boy answered smiling, “but there aren’t any more stops till we get there.”

  “And that’s why …”

  “I just hate wearing clothes!” the boy replied. “But it’s so necessary when you’re away from home. Clothes are so uncomfortable. Don’t you agree?”

  “Well …” responded Alice who didn’t really have an opinion on the subject.

  “When I’m away from Brook, I only wear clothes when I go out and about. The rest of the time, the most I ever wear are shoes.”

  “Is everyone like you in Brook?” wondered Alice.

  “No, of course not,” the boy responded. “Many people wear clothes.”

  However, Alice couldn’t be at all sure of this as the train continued on its journey and all the people who passed by the compartment seemed equally unclothed. And she could tell that she was in Brook when she saw through the window that everyone outside was also naked. After a while, Alice gave in to the prevailing custom and shyly took off all her clothes and packed them neatly into her suitcase.

  “I’m glad you’ve seen reason,” commented the boy, smiling at Alice. “It’s so much better without textile constraint, isn’t it?”

  When Alice finally got off the train at the little station of Tweedle, she at first found it strange to wander around in the company of so many naked people, and indeed the most prominent feature at first was the unaccustomed smell of their bodies. However, she handed her ticket to the Guard who took it from her and bade her a good day. Alice shyly thanked him for it, being perhaps more aware of his slightly tumescent penis than of his good intentions.

  It was early evening and Alice definitely wanted to get to Blanche’s house by the river before it got dark, but the route led through a wood which seemed quite threatening in the lengthening shadows. Although she was pretty sure from the instructions she had written down that she did know the way to her house, Alice felt she needed some confirmation.

  She was quite pleased to see a couple of teenage boys lying naked on the grass who looked like they could help. As she came up to them, however, she couldn’t help noticing that one boy was sucking the penis of the other one which the other was lazily enjoying. Although the penis wasn’t particularly stiff, it was fairly clear to her that it wouldn’t take a great deal more encouragement for it to become so. She looked at it with intense curiosity, and was startled by a voice coming from the one lying on his back.

  “If you think we’re a porno show,” he said, “you ought to pay, you know.”

  The other boy disengaged his mouth from the penis and looked up at Alice whom he’d just noticed. ”I’m sure I’m very sorry,” was all Alice could say.

  The two boys sat up, visibly annoyed by having been interrupted in their play.

  “I was thinking,” Alice said very politely, “which is the best way out of this wood: it’s getting so dark. Would you tell me, please?”

  The two boys giggled, and the one who had been sucking his friend’s penis grasped it firmly in his hand and started pulling it through his fingers. He pulled his hand up from the base to the tip in a slow and languid way.

  “You’ve begun wrong!” cried one boy. “The first thing in a visit is to say ‘How d’ye do’ and shake hands!”

  Alice did not like shaking hands with either of them, as she really wanted to get on her way and didn’t want to prolong it too much. However, the necessity of further politeness was not necessary as the two boys just as suddenly ignored her and returned to their lovemaking. Alice hovered around wondering what she ought to do, but as their passion mounted and one of them began inserting his penis into the others’ backside, she felt that she’d probably exhausted all the time she could with the pair.

  She walked on further and was a little alarmed when she heard something that sounded to her like the puffing of a large steam‑engine in the wood near them, though she feared it was more likely to be a wild beast. However, she was relieved to see that it was only a black gentleman wearing only a night‑cap lying crumpled up into a sort of untidy heap and snoring loud.

  However, it was still getting progressively darker, so Alice hurried as fast as she could through the wood following the instructions she had been given. She was sure that she’d find Blanche’s home fairly soon.

  Blanche’s home was in fact just above a book shop where she sold all manner of books, but it was quite late when Alice arrived and rang the door bell. It wasn’t at all long till the door was answered by Blanche’s naked plump white body. “Come in! Come in!” said Blanche in a very cheerful way. “I was so worried you wouldn’t find the way here.”

  Blanche took Alice in and fussed around her. She cooked her a very nice meal. “I hope you don’t mind sharing my bed,” Blanche wondered, “but I’ve only the one. But there’s plenty of space for two ‑ especially for one as petite as you.”

  Alice spent most of the evening looking at the books that Blanche sold in her shop. There were many books besides Honore L’Oeuf’s, but almost all seemed much more explicit in their content than the ones Alice was used to reading at home. Some of the children’s books concerned nothing else but masturbation, with titles like 101 Things to do with a Willy, Sucking Made Simple, A Little Girl’s Guide to Touching Yourself and A Child’s Household Sex Tools. There were also other children’s fiction like Honore L’Oeuf’s which focused on child sex. There was a series of books about The Nasty Little Girl, which concentrated on all the games of sexual seduction the Nasty Little Girl of the title would have with other boys and girls, and even, in one very curious story, a dog. There were some other stories about girls and boys going to toilet on each other called the Pooh Stories. In a typical story, the main character, a little boy called Pooh would piss on his younger friend Ploplet and then smear shit all over his body. The point of the story was the awful smell it left, which put off all their friends.

  It was soon bedtime, but there was no ceremony about taking clothes off. Alice just went to Blanche’s bed after cleaning her teeth and having a wash. Blanche was already lying on the sheets: her plump white body filling much more than half of what was already a very large double bed. “Oh! I feel so tense!” complained Blanche rolling her plump body
round, her breasts moving heavily with her motion. “Could you rub my back please?”

  Alice was always very helpful, so she sat astride Blanche’s broad round back, which was so round she had to almost stand so as not to dig her knees into Blanche’s flesh. She put her hands onto Blanche’s shoulders and massaged and rubbed them vigorously. All the fat swallowed up Alice’s little hands, and she was sure that Blanche could barely feel any of her caresses, but Blanche was moaning “That’s better. Oh, much better!”

  After a while Alice was beginning to get a bit tired of exercising on Blanche’s back, and was indeed feeling a bit tense herself from the effort. Blanche persuaded Alice to not only massage her shoulders, but also her back and her buttocks. She then rolled over onto her back, and her breasts and stomach were raised majestically up above the sheets. Her stomach flopped slightly over her cunt, so that it was actually obscured from view. As if to correct this, Blanche clasped the base of her stomach in her hands and pulled it up, so that Alice could see the pale fair hair, which obscured virtually nothing of the very full and fleshy vagina.

  “It’s not just my back that feels sore,” explained Blanche, directing Alice’s hand to her cunt. Alice squeezed her hands between the flesh of Blanche’s thighs and her little fingers entered the cunt. “Massage there,” instructed Blanche, which Alice did while Blanche heaved like a monstrous whale under the influence. Blanche’s cunt felt so hot and was so sticky, that soon Alice was applying her tongue to it and licking it. She took Blanche’s clitoris in her teeth and nibbled at it. It was as big as her small toe.

  The following morning, Alice awoke to find that Blanche was not beside her, but she saw a note which said “Having a bath in the river.” Alice got up and looked out of the bedroom window which looked on to the river flowing just outside. There, in the middle of it, and totally unmistakable was Blanche who was ducking and diving in the cool running water. Blanche looked up and saw Alice watching her and waved to Alice to join her. Alice smiled and waved back. She ran over the thick woollen pile carpet to the back door, and through that, with barely another thought, right into the water.

  Her first thought, after she’d jumped into the river, was just how cold it was. She could see little fish and crabs flicking past her naked young body, as she stood up to her waist in the water. A little fish glanced through her legs and brushed teasingly against her inside thigh.

  “It’s cold!” gasped Alice.

  “You need to jump around a bit,” Blanche advised.

  Alice jumped up and down, but all she could feel were the sharp pebbles on her bare feet. “I don’t feel any warmer.”

  Blanche waded towards her, curiously graceful for one so large. Then she immersed herself and swam breaststroke a few yards, her breasts bobbing above the water like ballast. When Blanche reached Alice she wrapped her cold wet body round Alice, and showered her face with kisses. “You’re so sweet!” she exclaimed. She traced her podgy hands down the contours of Alice’s body towards Alice’s buttocks which she squeezed gently. Then she tenderly spun Alice around on her toes in the water and pushed one of her round white fingers to Alice’s vagina and tenderly caressed it. Alice suddenly tensed, but as Blanche lavished more attention on her vagina, she felt it get warmer at the same time as water seeped into the entrance, giving her a peculiar feeling, which only added to its sensuousness. She knew her own moistness was adding to the moistness of the water, but her passion only rose. She was soon gasping in ecstasy and holding tight onto Blanche’s large round body.

  Later, Alice had breakfast with Blanche in her dining room, and she couldn’t help noticing all the framed photographs around the wall. There were pictures of Blanche with several women and men, and several more of Blanche by herself. In one picture Blanche was sitting in a boat with a girl about the same age as Dinah. In other Blanche was photographed with a fat man with his penis quite firmly up her cunt, and the two of them clearly enjoying it. In another, Blanche was seated nestling with a sheep.

  One picture which particularly took Alice’s eye was a picture of Blanche intimately embracing a woman, who, though not nearly as plump as Blanche, was quite simply not slim. But she had one feature, which was considerably more voluptuous than anything that Blanche had, and that was her breasts. They were simply enormous. They came down to her waist, were very round and had nipples that themselves were at least the size of Alice’s fists. Blanche was nestled against her in a pose of adoration, and this woman supported Blanche with an arm around the shoulder.

  “Who’s this?” wondered Alice, pointing at the woman.

  “O! Don’t you know?” smiled Blanche.

  “No,” said Alice, looking again at the picture. The very pretty rounded face with the full lips and round smiling eyes did seem familiar. “I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere though. I just can’t place it.”

  “You’ve probably seen her face on dust‑jackets,” Blanche remarked. “She’s Honore L’Oeuf.”

  XII - Honore L’Oeuf

  It was a great thrill the following day, for that was the occasion in which Blanche introduced Alice to the famous Honore L’Oeuf. Blanche had always made a point of making love to as many authors as she could, particularly authors of children’s books. She’d had sex with Cheval, the author of a book about eight children in search of an elusive orgasm. He’d been very shy, she’d said - and his penis had been actually rather small. She’d also made love with Christophe Oiseau, the author of the Pooh books, but she’d not actually enjoyed being pissed on. Honore was a special conquest, Blanche maintained, and they were still very friendly, but, it was evident to her that she much preferred the company of children.

  Blanche left Honore and Alice talking in the garden, by a bench, where Honore sat: her breasts in real life if anything more fantastic than seen in a photograph. She had at least an 80 inch bust, and their weight forced them to hang down and obscure her vagina, which they almost touched when she sat down.

  Honore lifted a breast up in her hands and held it out for Alice to see clearly. “This is the main reason I live in Brook”, she explained. “I didn’t always live here, but when I lived where clothes were much more the expected thing, I had enormous problems. I had to wear men’s shirts designed for very fat men, but even then they couldn’t hide my enormous breasts. The nipples would always struggle to escape. And so often, the buttons would pop and my breasts would flop out. It was so embarrassing! Here, I don’t have to even try to hide them.”

  “Have you always had such titanic tits?” asked Alice.

  “Not when I was a very young child, of course,” Honore said smiling. “But even when I was your age, it was fairly obvious that I had monstrous mammaries. At first I thought they’d just reached full size much earlier than normal - but they just wouldn’t stop growing. They just grew and grew! It got so that I had to spend days with my blouse fully open, simply because I couldn’t button them up. Or I’d do the bottom button and the top button, and the breasts would just hang out between. So, it soon became obvious that I wasn’t an ordinary girl.”

  “How did you start writing children’s books?” wondered Alice, who wanted to move the subject away from breasts, although it was such a prominent and obvious subject.

  “I’ve always loved children. And I’ve always loved making love to children. I love the feel of a five year old boy’s penis. And I like those of eleven year olds. They’re so smooth. And children’s bodies are so beautiful. Your body is one of the most beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” said Alice, who glanced down at her own very flat chest, and the long hair which fell to her waist and brushed over her slender thighs and buttocks. “Why do you love children so?”

  “Perhaps because girls and boys look so much the same. And I just love the tenderness and innocence of making love with them. So it seemed natural to write stories about it. Of course, I invest into them as much of my own experience as possible. I just love having two or three children making love to me at once, and they just love t
o put my nipples into their mouth, or to rub their little crotches over them. I also watch children making love together or masturbating. And I listen to their stories of their own sexual encounters.”

  “Do you enjoy writing stories?”

  “Of course. I always masturbate when I’m writing, and I know when my stories are particularly erotic by the amount of moistness they generate. If they’re very erotic, I just have to break off in the middle of writing them, and push a banana up my crotch and feel its squelchy disintegration inside me, or to rub my breasts up and down the wall while I shove something hard and firm up me. But no masturbation - and I masturbate several times every day - can match the delight of sex with children.”

  Alice felt very uncomfortable at Honore’s directness. “Do you want to make love to me?”

  “Of course, dearest,” Honore said. “I want you to put the whole of your mouth over my nipples and bite them with your petite little teeth. I want to push as much of my stiff nipple up your vagina as I can and feel your hot little quim moisten and drip over my breasts. I want to push my tongue as deep as I can inside you, while you luxuriate in my breasts. I want to make love with you for hours and hours.”

  “Do you make love with all the children you meet?”

  “Not all, but as many as I can. I love the variety. I love disabled children. I like to put amputee’s stumps deep inside me so they feel smooth and wet. I love black, white and red children. I love girls and boys. But don’t think I only love children.”

  “Yes, you’ve also made love with Blanche…”

  “Well, and still do. She’s such a wonderful literary groupie. Anyone write a book, and Blanche’s fucked them. Blanche and I make an odd couple. There’s so much flesh between us. We can barely touch each other with our arms when we lie on top of the other. In fact, making love for me is always a bit funny. Either my lover has to squeeze between my tits or they have to fuck from the oddest of angles.”

 

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