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Timmy Mac’s Summer Camp Adventures, Simpsons 1	By : Wendell Urth Category: -Misc Cartoons > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1981 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer:The Simpsons,The Fairly Odd Parents &Foster’s Home For Imaginary Friends and all associated or other characters belong to their respective creators and owners,not me. I receive no compensation.

Chapter List
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05: The Emotional Projection Option Pt.1
Location: Still, the Simpson’s residence

The next, next night:
Lisa slept in her little bed and dreamed. She got out of the bed, which was odd because she saw herself still in it… asleep in her PJs. Except, that the figure standing next to her bed was also her. But instead of her PJs, she was wearing the secret green nightie. She had bought it online and kept it hidden from her parents. It was her secret treasure, kept high up in her closet on a back shelf where no one ever looked. Sometimes when she was alone in the house, she put it on. The fabric was sheer, naughty, exposing her nipples and cleft in a swirl of green silk and lace. The site had called it ‘Loli-in-Lace’. The only person who had ever seen it was Lollipop-Star who had instantly grabbed her, kissed her in her exposed places. She would never wear it when her parents or siblings might see it.
But she was wearing it now, but since this was a dream, it was OK.
She tiptoed down the hall. Bart was alone in his room, she opened the door a crack, hoping to see… what she saw. He sat on the side of his bed, all together naked. His cock was in his hand, gently rubbing. Hard. He was hard, she knew. She stood in the doorway and watched him stroke it. He didn’t see her; this was a dream after all. She felt a tightness in her belly and wondered what it would be like to touch it, to stroke it. To taste it. Not just a boy’s cock, Bart’s cock.
She had never had such feelings before… or had she? In dreams maybe… or maybe she just couldn’t admit them to herself. Bart was moaning now, stroking faster. She wondered how he wasn’t hurting himself. From the look on his face he might be! His pace increased again; it was bigger now! Suddenly he stopped, gripping his shaft as three quick streams shot forth, one almost reaching her bare feet. His eyes were closed. All he said was “Lisa”.
“Lisa…”
She pulled back and stared down, repelled by the sight of his cum as much by his saying her name. Except she knew she wasn’t repelled. She fought an urge to fall on her knees, to lick up his cum and go to him for more. “He said my name!”
He looked up, looked her in the eyes and whispered her name again. She fled.

Next morning, Lisa pretended to be ill. She couldn’t face Bart. Couldn’t be across the table from him. Marge was concerned, but decided that maybe her daughter needed a day off from the pressure she was under. Marge brought Maggie to day care and went about her errands. When the house was empty and quiet, Lisa checked her closet. The box with the green nightie was where it belonged… untouched… probably. Lisa didn’t have the nerve to look inside.
She went to Bart’s room. Stood in the hallway, afraid to open his door. Afraid to enter. Finally getting the courage, she opened the door a crack. There were three stains on the carpet, one near where she had stood in the dream. She tried to tell herself that Bart lived like a pig, they could have been there for months (but mom had vacuumed the day before). Didn’t have to be cum. But after Homer’s little midnight paint job, everyone in the house was familiar with the look and smell.
She fled back to her room.
When Bart came home his first stop was Lisa’s room. She was face down in bed, pillow covering head. “Hey Lis’, how ya’ doing?”
“What do you want?” He was never this nice!
“Can’t your brother be a little concerned?” he sat on the side of her bed and if he noticed her recoil from him, he ignored it?
“Just leave me alone Bart.” She tried to say calmly. The truth was she wanted to scream.
He ignored her, told some jokes abut Millhouse and a couple of their friends. After a few minutes without any response from her, he patted her gently on the shoulder and quietly closed her door. None of his usual insults, grunts or door slams.
Lisa immediately felt guilty. He had done nothing wrong! Just the opposite. By dinner she said she was feeling a little better.
She tried to put the dream behind her. It was a one-time thing. Dreams mean different things and maybe it was just a sign of her early development and all the feelings and stress in her life. She felt that her father had abandoned her so maybe that’s why she turned to Bart in her dream! In fact, she was sure of it and now that she understood it, she was sure it wouldn’t happen again.

In a cheap hotel across town, Homer Simpson sat with a bottle of scotch in one hand and a gun in the other. A messenger had just dropped off the divorce papers from his wife. They were old and yellowed and had been passed back and forth many times throughout the years (they were actually a wedding gift to his wife from her sisters).
Homer was a coward, but maybe he could be forgiven for not knowing how to face his family (especially his daughter). He didn’t know if this was his fault. Had he started this by going to her room that first night? Or was this her doing? It didn’t matter. He was stone-cold sober for the first time in years. He had an insurance policy from the Nuclear Plant. Of course, he had never read it, so he didn’t know there was a suicide clause which would have limited the payout to his family.
He looked from the bottle to the gun and back again. Trying his hardest to consider what to do.

Lisa, again in her secret green lingerie, looked at herself sleeping in the bed. She had kicked off the blanket and her dream self now covered her sleeping self. A kiss on the cheek. She smiled, passing her mother’s room and then her baby sister’s until she was outside his room again.
His room… and him. She leaned against the open door. He saw her this time, patted his bed to invite her in. She shook her head. His cock became hard again, though he hadn’t touched it. She had heard that happened to boys when they were excited. “I guess I made him excited. Must be my nightie.” Lisa looked down at herself. Her nipples were swollen. They had gotten stiff, the surface pebbly. “I haven’t even touched them this time!” she wondered. I guess boys and girls get excited by the same kinds of things. “Brothers and sisters too.”
“Are you going to touch yourself again?”
Bart laughed. “No, you are.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to touch your thing!”
Bart pointed, “Not what I meant!”
She looked down, surprised to see her hand had started fingering her slit. One finger was inside. Digging. Probing. Stretching. “OMG!” she thought Her other hand was rubbing her little hooded clit. Circular motions. Wonderful feelings.
Bart lay back on his bed, watching her knowingly, knowing what feelings she was bringing to the surface. “Your nightie is pretty, but you are prettier… naked. Take it off Lis’... Take off your nightie for me. Slowly”
Imaginary Lisa smiled, turned and began to wiggle her ass. Sleeping Lisa began to smile too. “It’s just a dream, right?” Sleeping Lisa began to shed her PJ’s as Imaginary Lisa danced and stripped for Bart. Warm honey began to drip, drip, drip down their legs. Her green nightie lay forgotten on Bart’s floor.
In her bed, Lisa smiled. This was such a nice dream. She wanted it to go on forever.
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Timmy Mac’s Summer Camp Adventures, Simpsons 1