In our culture, adolescence can often be a time of confusion, awkwardness, and self-doubt. For young girls in particular, the problem of awakening sexual feelings can be a difficult one.
Looking around her, a teenager may find baffling inconsistencies in the words and actions of others. Occasionally, a girl will stray too far off the prescribed path. Labeled incorrigible, she may find herself separated from friends and family, and placed in the hands of "specialists" who would "cure" her of her erring ways.
HORNY GIRLS' SCHOOL is the story of a fourteen-year-old, Bonny Wilson, product of a rather unstable home environment, shunted off to a home for wayward girls, and of Christine Fairmont, an attractive and ambitious girl reporter, who infiltrates the school-for, it is rumored, all was not strictly on the level at this supposedly "correctional" institution.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Bonny Wilson was waiting on a corner, looking nervously up and down the street. She was a pretty little girl with red hair worn in a ponytail held by a rubber band, a scattering of freckles across her nose and green eyes around which she wore a good deal of mascara. She was fourteen years old and nubile. She wore a pair of faded jeans cut off into very short shorts and a white tee shirt with the number 96 printed on the back.
She had intended to have 69 printed on the tee shirt, but had lost her nerve at the last minute, afraid that her mother might raise holy hell when she saw it--not that her mother was not known to do a bit of sixty-nining, herself--and, besides, Bonny figured that it didn't matter which number came first, just as it didn't matter if the man or the girl got on top when they did it. Bonny was a sexy girl and she didn't care who knew it; in fact, it was to her benefit to have people know it, especially good looking boys.
Bonny was waiting for some good looking boys at the moment.
She was chewing gum methodically as she looked around, hoping that the guys showed up soon, before her mother-that old hypocrite-came looking for her.
Her pert little tits thrust out against the white cotton tee shirt, the stiff nipples firmly pressed out in twin points against the fabric, for she never wore a bra, which was not only uncomfortable, but also delayed such pleasant practices as getting felt up. By good looking boys, of course.
The cut-off jeans were molded to her trim hips and bouncy ass like a second skin and she had affected a posture in which she carried her loins sort of tucked-in, thrusting her ass out as if to counterbalance her thrusting tits at the other end.
The jeans were drawn down into her crotch in a vee in front and clung to her asscheeks so tightly that the crack of her ass was indented quite plainly.
Yes, Bonny was very sexy.
She was also very horny, at the moment, for she was waiting to get picked up by her boyfriends.
Tom, Ralph and Sam were her favorite boyfriends, although she didn't go steady with them, and it was handy that the three youths were such good friends because that meant that they could all take her out at the same time. Nobody got jealous that way and Bonny had the pleasure of having three dates at once. It didn't strike the girl that this arrangement was a bit odd.
Bonny's mother did not approve of her boyfriends and warned the girl that they were just out after what they could get.
This struck Bonny as absurd, since she was certainly out to get in as much fucking as she could herself.
It must be the generation gap, she thought.
An old Ford turned at the corner and came cruising down the street, crawling close to the curb.
At the same moment, a blowzy blonde came out of the tavern in the middle of the block.
The Ford belonged to Tom and he had Ralph and Sam in the car with him.
The blonde was Bonny's mother.
Bonny saw her mother lurching towards her and the girl began to wave frantically at the car. The car seemed to hesitate, like a startled racehorse, then speeded up. It slammed to a rocking halt at the corner and Sam, who was in the back seat, threw the door open. Bonny dashed towards the car.
"Don't you dare get in that car, you little tramp!" her mother screamed, starting to waddle faster.
Bonny jumped into the car.
The Ford roared off, billowing black smoke from the exhaust like a destroyer laying a smokescreen to shield it from that big blonde battleship wallowing in its wake.
Bonny's mother, whose name was Irma, shook her fist at the car. Then she sighed. She was drunk and she had enormous tits. She turned and went back into the bar. She had been sitting in a back booth with a burly man wearing a stained undershirt and she went back and sat down again.
"Thought you were going?" he said, looking up from his beer. He had a coarse, working man's face and a tattoo of an anchor on his massive bicep. His hair was unkempt and his nose was spider-veined and red from drink, but he had a big dick.
"Ah, I was too late. The little bitch just drove off in a car with three guys."
"Ahhh," he said.
"Well, you don't care, but she's my kid. I got a right to worry about the bitch. The way she carries on, maybe she ain't even a virgin anymore, you know?"
"What I hear, she ain't no virgin." "What you hear?"
He shrugged. "I hear she puts out, is all."
Irma growled.
"Have a drink?" he said.
"Thanks, Gus."
Gus went to the bar and got her a shot of blended whisky. He had been sitting on the other side of the booth but when he came back he slid in beside Irma. He put the shot in front of her and, in doing so, his arm brushed across her tits. Like her daughter, Irma wore no brassiere, but there the similarity ended. Irma's tits were huge rolling pillows that spread all over her torso. Her blouse was unbuttoned at the top. Gus peered down the front of that blouse. It was like looking into Grand Canyon, he thought. But he was partial to big tits.
Irma took a slug of whisky and shuddered.
She said, "Well, I fixed that little tramp, I'll tell you. Know what I did? I arranged to have her sent to the home for wayward girls, is what I did.
They're coming for her tomorrow." "That so?"
"Yeah. Uncontrollable, she is. Best thing for her. I hated to do it but it had to be done." She peered at Gus. "One thing I can't stand, it's a tramp," she said. "Maybe they can teach her to behave at that place."
Gus nodded and sipped some beer.
Then he took Irma's hand and pulled it down onto his crotch. He clamped it firmly over his dick. When he took his own hand away, Irma's hand stayed where it was. One might have thought that, being worried about her wayward daughter, she didn't realize that her hand had been placed on a cock.
But she started to stroke him.
His prick had been semi-hard, lying alongside his thick thigh and raising a furrow up in his trousers. When Irma started to stroke him, his cock began to expand and harden.
Irma didn't seem interested in what she was doing; with her hand rubbing away she said, "Three young fellas in that car ... not just one ... it makes me mad to think that a daughter of mine would go out in a car with three men at once." Then she grinned. She had nice teeth and when she smiled it was evident that, in earlier years, she had been a beauty. Time had modified her appearance, but she was still pretty good looking in her dyed and painted fashion. She did not want for boyfriends, even now. Gus was not really a boyfriend, since she only knew him from the bar, but he had been buying her drinks and that was sort of like a boyfriend, at that.
Grinning, she said, "It makes me randy, too."
"Huh?"
"When I think of my fourteen-year-old daughter screwing three guys ... it makes me mad but it makes me hot, too."
"You ever fuck three guys at once?" he asked.
His cock was really jumping around now, trying to rip its way out of his pants.
"That's for me to know and you to find out," said the chesty blonde, with originality.
"How in hell would I find that out? Unless I got two other guys and we come to call, maybe?" he said, squinting at her.
Irma giggled.
"Maybe I might find out something right now?" "Maybe," she said, imagining her daughter getting fucked and massaging Gus' cock steadily. Gus said, "You ever--suck a dick?" Irma looked affronted.
"What in hell do you think I am?" she asked, belligerently, thrusting her face into his.
"Sorry," he said.
"Of course I've sucked a dick," she said.
"I kind of thought you might have," Gus admitted.
"I was real good looking when I was younger," she said. "Not that I'm so old now. But let me tell you, there wasn't a dick in this town I couldn't suck if I wanted to."
Gus' cock was fairly thundering by this time, his ardor inspired by her caress and her words combined. Trapped down the leg of his pants, his prick was buckling like a crazed buffalo. Her hand jumped as that meaty wad lurched.
He leaned over and whispered into her ear.
"You ever suck a dick in a bar?" he asked.
Irma started to giggle.
"That's something I can find out," he said. "That's dirty talk, real dirty," she said, but it was obvious that she took no offense. "You afraid to?"
"The cock that can scare me ain't been made yet," she told him. "Ain't scared of no bars, either."
"Suck my cock and I'll buy you another drink." "I ain't no whore! I never sucked a dick for a drink, Mister. Maybe, once in a while, on account of I had too many drinks, though, come to think of it."
"You had too many drinks now, Irma?"
Irma thought about that. She began to smile. "Gus," she said, "I'm drunk as an owl."
And she began to open his fly.
She pulled his zipper down and opened his belt buckle. His pants fell open in a vee. But his cock had been stuck down the leg of his pants and had hardened in that cramped position so that even after his fly was wide open his tool was trapped. It thumped hard, sensing freedom was at hand.
Irma slid her hand inside his pants and folded it around the stalk of his fat prick.
"Ooooh," she said, impressed by the dimensions and by the way it began to swell. Her hand slid down from the root to the flaring knob, then pulled back. Using her other hand to hold the front of his pants out, she hauled his dick out of his pant leg. It snapped bolt upright under the table.
Irma shifted in the seat so that she could look down at his cock where it towered in the shadows.
"You got some hunk of meat on you," she said.
She dragged his balls out, too; they were big and bloated and filled with cum.
Gus was a drinking man and had no wife. He was forgetful, as well. Thus, since he was usually too drunk to seduce a woman and often forgot to jerk off, his balls usually carried a stored-up load, all set to go.
Irma fondled and squeezed his balls, feeling the hard nuts jiggle around beneath the wrinkled, hairy sac. She push-pulled up and down on his cock a couple of times. She was peering under the table, enjoying the sight and feeling, pleased that her hands could evoke such a powerful response in that nice big dick.
"You keep doing that, I'll shoot," he said.
"No shit?" she said, sarcastically.
"Yeah, I ain't got my wad off in a month. There's plenty of jism in there and it won't take much to pull it out. But it wouldn't be right to shoot all over the bottom of the table, would it? I mean, other people are gonna come in, they're gonna sit in this booth, their knees rub under the table and they get cum all over their trousers, right? Then they go home, their wives see they got cum on their pants, why hell, Irma, it could lead to a divorce. You see that?"
"Don't you wanna come?"
"Sure I do. But we got to figure out where to put it. Got to find something to shoot it into, I mean."
He stared at her meaningfully.
Irma got the idea but, teasing him, she said, "Ain't you got a handkerchief? Maybe you could get a napkin from the bar, huh? I could jerk you off into a napkin ..."
Gus grunted. He placed his broad, gnarled hand behind her neck and pushed her head down. Irma giggled and slid sideways in the seat, her face positioned just above the head of his rampaging prick. He pushed upwards, trying to stick it in her face, but she was still teasing him. When his cockhead rose up, she lifted her head a few inches, maintaining the distance between head and cock.
"You mean you want to shoot in my mouth?" she asked.
"That's the idea."
"You want me to swallow it?"
Gus grunted. He knew she was just teasing him and he wasn't worried about the end result, but his cock was threatening to burst at any moment and he thought it would be a shame if he came in her hand instead of her mouth. It felt better to come with a nice hot mouth around his cockhead and he had no doubts that Irma was the sort of woman who enjoyed a nice drink of cum.
"It's good for you," he said. "Lots of vitamins and minerals and stuff in cum." He looked at her big hips, added, "Not many calories, though."
"Well, I don't mind," she said. "Just so you realize that I'm not the sort of woman who goes around blowing strangers in bars every day. It's just 'cause I'm so drunk, see?" "Yeah," he said.
Feeling that she had thus protected her reputation, Irma tilted her face back down over his prick. But she paused again. Her hand came up and fastened on his beer glass; she brought it down to her lips. Irma took a sip of beer, obviously to clear the taste of the rough whisky from her palate, to prepare her taste buds for the more delicate flavor of jism. She put the glass back on the table, groping blindly, her eyes fixed on his cock.
Then she fitted her pursed lips to its head.
Wet and cold from the beer, her lips kissed the blunt stab almost primly. Then they parted and slowly, inch by inch, she fed his dick into her face. She went down all the way on that first slow descent, until his cockhead had lodged in the entrance to her throat and only an inch or so of cock remained outside her mouth. Her nose nestled against his pubic thicket and her chin pressed into his inflated balls.
She held that deep penetration for a moment, her head transfixed on his long prick, letting him enjoy the sensation of being buried to the hilt in her warm mouth while she savored the thrill of having her mouth stuffed full of savory cockmeat.
Then her head began to rise and fall.
Irma, although vastly experienced, was not an inventive sort of cock sucker. She used no embellishments or variations of tongue, lip and cheek. She had learned long ago that a straightforward up and down motion of the head, sucking along the way, was the most efficient way to milk a dick and the milking being the objective, she saw no reason to fool around.
Her head bobbed up and down with a steady rhythm.
Gus took a sip of beer and looked around the bar, acting as nonchalant as a man can while his cock is getting head. No one seemed to notice the activity. Most of the customers were drunk and the bartender, in a place like this, did not govern with an iron hand. Holding his beer in one hand, Gus placed the other behind her head and began pushing down; at the same time, he heaved his hips up, so that he was fucking into her mouth while holding her head steady.
His balls, filled with a month's supply of jism, began to swell like inflated balloons.
His cockhead expanded mightily and his thick cock began to pulsate with imminent orgasm.
He was fucking right into her gullet, causing the woman to gag and gurgle but, game cock sucker that she was, Irma never faltered nor missed a stroke.
"Unghhh," she gasped, as her head went down to the root.
Then: "Ummm," as she pulled up, her red lips turned outwards as she slurped up the shaft from base to knob and her cheeks drew in from the suction.
Gus squirmed and pushed her head down hard. "Take it!" she rasped.
Irma sucked mightily and his balls exploded, forcing the thick sap up his mighty stalk. His cum came out of his cockhead in a mighty spurt, slamming into her throat so hard that her head rocked under the impact and her lips were forced up the shaft an inch or two. Gamely, she slammed her head back down in time for his second powerful geyser. She was gulping fast, swallowing the cum down voraciously, but the more she swallowed, the more he poured into her mouth.
"Drink it," he growled.
And she was drinking it as best she could, but her mouth was so full that creamy jism was bubbling out from her lips and running down onto his balls.
His lust had been saved up for so long that it all came out in that single, prolonged geyser, not spurting out in separate wads but steadily hosing her mouth. Then he slumped back in the booth. His heels drummed a spasmodic rhythm on the floor, causing sawdust to billow up, and his breath came out as if his lungs were having an orgasm. His balls were empty.
Irma kept sucking until she was certain she had milked every drop from his cockhead, that no errant nuggets of cum still lurked in that meaty rod.
Then she rose up, wiped her lips on the back of her hand and took a slug of whisky to wash it all down.
She was giggling girlishly. "That was fun," she said. "You give damn good head, Irma," Gus told her.
She politely tucked his softening dick and deflated balls back into his pants and zippered him up.
"You sure had plenty of jism in you," she told him, returning his compliment about her giving good head. If a girl was going to give head, there was no reason why she shouldn't give quality head, was the way Irma saw it.
"I almost choked on it," she said. "It was like drinking out of a spittoon," she added. "It all came out in a string."
Gus stared at her.
"That's disgusting," he said.
"Naw, it wasn't; it was fun. Yummy, too."
With his balls empty, Gus saw things more clearly. He saw that this was not the sort of woman you took to a garden party. But he figured he owed her a drink and he went up to the bar. When he came back with another whisky, he found that Irma was no longer smiling. She looked morose.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Aw, I was thinking about my daughter again," said Irma. "If there's one thing I hate, it's a tramp."
Gus stared at her.
"Maybe she can't help it," he said.
"How's that?"
"Maybe she inherited it."
"That don't make me feel no better," said Irma.
But soon enough she cheered up.
CHAPTER TWO
Sitting in the back seat beside Sam, Bonny turned her torso from the waist, pivoting fluidly, and looked out the rear window. She giggled when she saw her mother shaking her fist furiously at the departing car. Bonny was not at all happy about the arrangements to send her to the home for wayward girls and she figured she owed her mother no respect now. She had never showed her mother any respect before, but now she figured she had a good reason for maintaining that attitude.
- If she had been labeled wayward, she damned well deserved the fun of actually being wayward, Bonny thought. And although the idea of going to the home for wayward girls was dismal and depressing, Bonny could not help but secretly feel a bit proud that she was such a naughty girl.
When she wriggled around to look out the rear window, the movement turned her tits toward Sam who, being an opportunist, immediately clamped a hand on each firm, thrusting little tit and began to feel her up.
Bonny did not object.
She turned her face back and let Sam kiss her. It was necessary to kiss, she knew, although she got no particular thrill out of it. The thing was, if a girl would fuck without being kissed, it was really bad for her reputation. Only ugly girls allowed intimacy without kissing first. Bonny was particular about that and had only slipped up and fucked without kissing two or three times in her whole young life, and only then because she had forgotten-a natural and understandable oversight at times.
Sam was no expert kisser.
He ground his mouth around on hers and she could feel the hard blocks of his teeth under the softness of his lips. Bonny opened her mouth, but he was too dumb to know he ought to stick his tongue into it.
He was however, massaging her tits quite nicely.
Her nipples, which were almost always stiff, had swelled into his palms. He pulled his hand slowly away, his fingers drawing together as they slid down her boobs and then plucking at her tingling little nuggets. He repeated this withdrawing caress over and over and Bonny began to pant into his mouth. It took very little to get Bonny aroused. She was not a girl who needed romance or emotional attachments or avowals of true love-Bonny was motivated by pure, physical lust.
She had certain preferences.
She preferred a boy to be good looking, if possible, and she liked big cocks. But that was incidental.
Mainly, she simply liked to fuck.
Bonny was squirming and wriggling as Sam felt her up.
Ralph was turned around, looking over the back of the seat with an excited expression. Tom had shot a quick glance back but was more concerned with driving the car, for he was one of those youths whose sexuality is inextricably linked up with his automobile. He had lost his virginity in a car, every single fuck and most of the petting he'd ever done had been in a car, he got nervous and turned pale at the very thought of fucking in a bedroom, and planned, when he got married, to honeymoon in a camper.
He drove steadily, left shoulder dropped, a cigarette in his lips. He was heading out of town towards the local lover's lane, automatically, as if the car were on tracks.
Ralph crawled over the seat and got in the back, with Bonny in the middle. Sam politely removed one hand, yielding up a plump tit for Ralph. Ralph began to rub it against his palm. Bonny twisted nimbly and let Ralph kiss her, so he wouldn't get the idea she could be felt up without kissing.
Ralph kissed better than Sam and knew how to thrust his tongue into her mouth. They swapped tongues for a few minutes, then Bonny twisted back and kissed Sam again, showing no favoritism because, although Sam did not kiss as well as Ralph did, he had a bigger prick. Bonny didn't know if there was any cause and effect involved, nor did she care. She was getting very hot.
Sam placed his hand on her lean thigh and began to stroke up and down. Bonny's legs parted immediately. Ralph put his hand on her other leg and rubbed. Sam stroked up to the frayed bottom of her ripped-off jeans and slipped his fingers under the denim. Then he hesitated, for they were at the stage of ritual now.
Bonny reached down, took his wrist, and pulled his hand away from her crotch.
He immediately put it back and it was all right the second time; she had proved that she was not the loose sort of girl who allowed a boy to finger fuck her without a certain degree of resistance and reluctance.
Sam's fingers slid up inside her jeans and he began to finger her cunt through her damp panties.
Bonny kissed Sam passionately.
Then Ralph slid his hand up, pushing Sam's aside. Bonny turned to Ralph and kissed him with plenty of tongue involved while he rubbed up and down her cunt.
The two horny lads alternated now, taking turns stroking her cunt through her panties while Bonny twisted to and fro, kissing whichever boy was touching her at the moment.
Her tits did not go unattended.
Each youth still cupped a breast in the hand he was not using to caress her cunt.
Bonny was excited and eager to get to the lover's lane, so she could allow them to remove her shorts and panties. She could not allow them to do that while the car was moving. For some vaguely acknowledged reason, only a pure tramp would let her loins be bared before they reached the destination-it was far less sinful to fuck in a lover's lane, where fucking was expected, than it would have been en route, as if she were so horny that she could not bide her time.
But she was enjoying the modified caress, hampered and hindered though it might be, beneath her jeans but outside of her panties. She knew that Ralph, who kissed better than Sam, was also a better cunt rubber. It was hard to differentiate at the moment, with her crotch still covered up, but this was a value judgment she had made in the past. Ralph knew enough to tenderly rub the love bud and trace along the sensitive cunt lips, whereas Sam always jammed his middle finger straight up the hole and began to finger fuck recklessly.
Sam was, in fact, pretty useless as far as the delicacies and finer points of lovemaking were concerned.
The only thing was--he did have that nice big prick.
Sam's cock was longer than Ralph's and fatter than Tom's, a big stout rod capped by a mushroom-shaped knob, the style of dick that Bonny preferred.
Ralph's cock was thick enough, but she thought that maybe it only looked thick because it was lacking in length. It did, however, have a nice fat vein running prominently up the underside of the shaft and spreading out at the delta of the head.
Tom's cock was as long as Sam's, but not nearly as broad and he had one of those sharply tapered knobs that, Bonny always thought, were mostly good for prying into tight holes such as those possessed by virgins--or assholes--and not nearly as satisfying as a big mushroom head like Sam's.
Tom, however, had a car.
A car could make up for inches of dick, she knew, because a dick was useless, no matter how massive it might be, if there was no place where it could be used.
All in all, she thought, the three boys were pretty equal and she loved them all about the same. In moments of passion they had even spoken about marrying her, and she had agreed to be their fiancee, although she was clever enough to see that there was something of a paradox involved.
The old Ford had passed the city limits now and as soon as the sign flashed past, like a symbol of chastity abandoned, Bonny put her hands on the boys' cocks and began to rub them through their blue jeans, tracing the shafts and cupping the balls and fingering the cockheads.
The boys' caresses faltered and became erratic as they began to whimper under her hands.
Feeling those hard, potent cocks surging so lustily, Bonny suddenly had the horrible thought that she would not be able to date these boys once she was in the home for wayward girls. Oh, she could sneak out, she knew, but she figured the restrictions would be more strict than those imposed by her mother, who often got drunk and allowed Bonny to escape.
She said, "I got to go to the wayward girls' home tomorrow."
"How come?" Sam asked, poking his middle finger up her gash-pushing her wet panties right up into her cunt.
"My mom is making me go."
"Gee, that's a shame. You ain't so wayward."
Bonny wriggled on his hand and squeezed both cocks.
"She's a bitch, is why. I figure she don't want me around the house so she can bring men home. That's what I figure. She don't want me catching her on the job ... if I ain't there, she can fuck all over the house."
"We'll wait for you, Bonny," Ralph said, tenderly.
"Suck, too," said Bonny.
"Your mom suck?" Sam asked. "Oh, yeah."
He clicked his tongue.
"She'll probably bring a different guy home every day, once I'm not home," Bonny said, sounding rather envious. It was nice to be grownup and be able to fuck in a house, she thought. As soon as she was grown-up, plenty of house-fucking was gonna get done, you could count on that.
"You guys don't think I'm wayward, huh?" she asked.
"Naw," they said.
The car drove on and Ralph and Sam took turns finger fucking her and soon enough they came to the lover's lane.
The lover's lane was officially called Blue Bell Point but among the local youths it had come to be called Blue Bell Point, because so many of them had wound up there with girls who didn't fuck and left them in frustration. Some of the local girls were so evil, in fact, that they would not even jerk a guy off to relieve him after a session of necking.
Bonny had always done her best to prove that not all girls were so heartless.
Now Tom drove the car off the road and parked under a large tree that bent over the automobile like a solicitous parent over a cradle. A little stream burbled along beside the tree and a field, dotted with flowers, stretched away in the distance. It was a pretty place where romance would not have been out of order. Girls had gotten engaged under that spreading tree and many a virgin had been deflowered in the flowering field; many lusty youths had lost their innocence and first-time-ever blow jobs had been abundantly dealt out to eager recipients. White buds hung from the limbs of the tree like blobs of cum from a spent cock and the stream broke its flow around rocks in a foamy white turbulence reminiscent of ejaculation while, overhead, tit-firm white clouds floated across a sky as blue as a broken heart.
Tom got out of the car and opened the back door.
"Out," he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.
"How come you always go first?" Sam whined.
"'Cause it's my car, is why. If I didn't have a car, you two guys would be walking around with hard-ons the whole fucking day. That's why, you jerks."
Well, that was true, but Sam and Ralph sighed, thinking it unfair that they had got the preliminary love play accomplished and had to wait for seconds and thirds.
Reluctantly, they got out. Tom got in the back seat with Bonny. He put his arm around her neck and kissed her vigorously.
He slammed his tongue into Bonny's mouth and she began to suck on it. Then he drew his tongue back and hers went with it, following into his mouth, to be sucked upon in turn.
He squeezed her tit.
"I love you, Bonny," he told her, for he was a bit of a sweet talking young man.
"I love you, too, Tom."
"Better than Ralph or Sam?"
Bonny glanced over his shoulder to make sure neither of those boys was listening. They were standing some distance away, sullenly bemoaning their lot and, in profile, Bonny could see that both their cocks were standing out in bas-relief.
"Sure," she said. "I love you most of all."
Tom grunted, satisfied.
He said, "I know that, Bonny. That's the only reason I don't mind if you fuck those two jerks. I know I'm number one, see? I don't have no call to be jealous." He had a nice way of sneering when he spoke romantically. His hair was dark and curly and glistened with oil. He knew how to dance.
Bonny took up her cue.
"And that's the only reason I fuck them," she said. " 'Cause they're your friends, Tom. Really, I only like fucking you. I'm glad you always fuck me first."
"No sloppy seconds for this kid," he said.
"I think it's real kind and generous of you to share your girl with your friends," she said. She looked again, saw that the other two were out of earshot, and said, "I bet they couldn't get a girl at all, without you."
Tom beamed hugely.
His cock surged in his jeans and he glowed with such pride that his hair oil seemed to shine even brighter.
He took Bonny's hand and pulled it onto his cock.
She began to rub and stroke and pet him while he felt her tits through her tee shirt. Then he pulled her shirt up and slipped his hands underneath and began massaging her naked, stiff-tipped boobs with his palms. He pulled at the nipples with his fingers.
Bonny was seething now, wriggling on the seat and panting with long gasps as the thrill slid around through her nubile body and came to rest in her crotch.
Her nipples were like starter buttons; pressed, they ignited the engine of her lust. Tom pulled her tee shirt all the way up and, bending down, took one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked lovingly and Bonny gasped and squirmed. His greasy head moved back and forth, sucking each nipple in turn. Chivalrously, he said, "Nice tits." "You do that so nice," she responded. She loved the way he talked so romantically; it was a shame that all boys were not so glib and sweet-tongued. "Take my cock out," he said. Unable to resist an offer so eloquently phrased, Bonny pulled his zipper down and dragged his dork from his fly. She began to play with it with both hands, fingering the pointed tip with one hand pumping the shaft with the other.
Tom leaned back, not touching her for the moment, taking his own pleasure in her caresses.
Bonny gazed at his cock; she liked to look at a prick while she played with it, the visual pleasure enhancing the tactile delights of such erotic love play. His knob was flushed dark red and hot to the touch, like a poker that has been dipped in a fire. Bonny thought that the tip was smoking but that might have been a trick of her vision, for her eyes were misty with desire.
After a few moments, Tom grunted and pulled her hands off his tumescent cock. His dick was humming like a tuning fork and he was afraid he might blow his load before he got stuck up her cunt, which would have been a tragedy. Quite a few of the girls Tom took out in his Ford refused to fuck and forced him to settle for handjobs--to take a handjob from a girl who did fuck would be ironic, he figured, although it felt real nice--Bonny was expert and talented in the art of pork pulling.
He unsnapped the waist of her shorts and pulled the zipper down. Bonny hiked her ass off the seat so that he could drag them down her hips and he did so. They were very tight and it took a certain amount of effort, but she wriggled her pelvis to help him and they squeezed down her lithe hips and then went easily down her trim thighs. Tom pulled the shorts off her foot and left them like a noose around her other ankle.
Bonny spread her legs wide apart.
He stroked her cunt half a dozen times, through her soaking panties, then hooked his thumbs under the elastic and drew the panties down. Bonny's cunt was steaming. The pink lips were unfurled like the petals of a flower, streaked with creamy dew, and the slot was flooded with cunt juice.
While Tom pulled her panties off, Bonny removed her tee shirt, so that she was naked. She hated to get fucked while she still had any clothing on. It seemed so immature.
Bonny lay back on the seat, her knees raised and her thighs parted. Tom looked at her cunt for a moment, grinning crookedly. He figured she must really be in love with him, to get so hot before he even put his cock to her and even to let his ugly friends fuck her.
Looking at her smoldering twat, he wriggled out of his own jeans. He didn't bother to take his shirt off. He wrapped one hand around the root of his cock, holding it, and began to rub her pussy with the other hand. She sighed and moaned and whimpered. He pushed his middle finger up her hole and she began to hump her ass up and down in simulated fucking. He added a second finger, then a third, push-pulling them in and out of her wet gash slowly. He would have added the fourth finger, as well, but he had some vague idea that she might be insulted at the thought that he could get his whole hand up her cunt.
Her pussy was, in fact, remarkably tight for a girl who took so much dick. She knew how to work her cunt muscles, clamping her love box firmly around whatever sized object happened to be up it at any given moment. Not a bad talent for a girl to have.
She was working those muscles now and her cunt was clutching at his fingers, pulling and sucking.
Now the situation was reserved.
Bonny was afraid she would come with his fingers up her, instead of waiting for his prick.
"Fuck me, Tommy honey," she whispered. Tom knelt on the seat, between her thighs. He guided his tapered cock towards her cunt. Bonny arched her back, lifting his tapered cock towards her cunt. Bonny arched her back, lifting her crotch into position and he fitted the head of his cock to her slot and worked it around a bit, as if he were stirring a thick stew with a ladle.
"Put it in!" she wailed.
Tom braced his knees and began to feed the meat to her, pushing in inch by inch. His cock went in easily, on the oily lubricants of lust, the shaft opening up in the wake of the tapering knob. He worked the whole length in and then held himself rigid above her, enjoying the sensation of having the full length of his dick buried in hot, wet cunt.
Bonny held herself motionless, too, as she thrilled to the feeling of being full of cock.
Then she gave a little, tentative push with her pelvis and, taking the hint, Tom began to fuck her vigorously.
He cupped his hands under her taut, straining ass, holding her nubile pelvis up like a platform into which he could stroke and he poured the pecker to her with long, rippling strokes.
Bonny met him thrust for thrust, in counterpoint. As Tom fed the dork to her, she pushed her cunt down over it like a snug collar; as he withdrew, she wriggled her hips from side to side, adding torque to the straight-in friction. Her cunt was working on his dick like a wringer.
"Oh, Tom! Tommy!" she wailed.
She clamped her thighs over his flanks and locked her heels behind his knees. Her belly danced and her hips rolled as he ground the dick into her steadily. He went in with long, underslung strokes at first, then raised up, changing the angle, so that his cock was running across her clit with each thrust. That rigid little bud was tingling; it seemed to brand his cock as he passed over it. He worked into her, plying and levering and plunging, his cock hissing up her wet hole.
Her whole supple body began to vibrate.
She was moaning softly, deep in her throat, and her movements had become convulsive as her orgasm neared. A climax lurked always at a shallow depth in Bonny's loins and Tom's vigorous fucking was bringing it quickly to the surface.
And Tom, with the potency of his tender years, was rising right along with her.
Bonny arched her back deeply, throwing her lean belly up as she bridged, fashioning hooks of her thighs and a cup of her pelvis as she took his thrusts. "I'm coming!"she cried. He slammed in to the hilt. "Come, Tommy! Fuck me!" Tom drove in furiously, her words supercharging the passion that their fucking had aroused. His dick felt like a heated crowbar, levering over the fulcrum of her clitoris and plunging into her smoldering cauldron. Suddenly he howled like a crazed wolf. He drove in savagely and his cock erupted volcanically in the depths of Bonny's loins. She felt his hot cream splatter into her cunt and it played the catalyst, changing her own electric thrill to a liquid discharge. Her cunt melted and cunt juice poured out to mingle with his thick cum.
Fucking in with sharp jolts, Tom emptied his balls into her hole quickly, almost impatiently. Then he stopped moving and held himself steady while the oversexed little nymph squirmed around on his buried joystick, working off the final spasms of her own thrilling climax on his spent cock.
"Gee," she said. "You sure can make me come."
Tom drew his dick out. It was staring to shrink and soften, hanging its head.
He looked at her suspiciously.
"You don't come when Sam or Ralph fuck you, do you?" he asked.
"Of course not, silly!" she lied.
"Yeah. I don't mind you fucking those jerks, as long as you don't enjoy it."
Bonny was looking at his prick, wondering whether he would screw her again before he yielded his place to one of the other horny lads. She didn't mind if he did. But she could see that he was drained for the moment, his cock starting to retract back into his loins.
She began to grow impatient for his replacement.
She said, "Who fucks me next, Ralph or Sam?"
"Don't matter. Does it?"
"Oh, not at all," she said, quickly. "I just want to get it over with, Tom ... 'cause I only like fucking you. It's a chore with those jerks, that's what it is."
"Yeah, I know. I think you're a real nice girl to let guys like that ball you, Bonny. Real, like, you know ... charitable."
"Don't mean nothing, Tommy. It's just like my cunt was a lending library, or something; it don't hurt to let those poor jerks get their rocks off in me. As long as you understand."
"Maybe I'll fuck you again, afterwards," he said. "Normally, I don't take no sloppy thirds, but seeing as how you got to go to the home for wayward girls tomorrow and I might not see you for a while ... and since I love you ..."
Bonny felt a surge of affection for Tommy, thoughtful fellow that he was. But it quickly passed.
She was ready for the next fuck in line.
Bonny wanted to get plenty of cock up her that afternoon, because she was afraid that, in some home for wayward girls, dick would be conspicuous by its absence.
Little did she know....
CHAPTER THREE
"You're going where?" Rick Burley asked, incredulously.
Christine Fairmont giggled.
"The home for wayward girls," she repeated. She struck a pose, her hip shot out and her hand on her hip and one leg angled, as if she were standing under a street lamp looking for customers. She was a pretty young woman with auburn hair, gray eyes and a nicely rounded body.
Rick gaped at her, dumbfounded.
"It's for a story, silly," she explained. "Ah!"
Christine was a reporter for the local newspaper, young and eager and rising in the world of journalism.
Rick was her boyfriend.
She said, "Josh ... the editor ... got the idea. There have been a few rumors about the home, about what goes on there. Maybe just gossip, maybe not. Things like ... oh, some of the girls sneak out or sneak men in; young men lurk about the place, waiting for wantons. Things like that."
"Ummm. I don't know as I like this idea very much. I suppose the director of the place knows you're a reporter? That you aren't really wayward, I mean?"
"Of course not. That would defeat the purpose. I've got to convince everyone that I'm an immoral little tramp so that I'll be treated the same as everyone else. How else will I find out the true story? The director--a fellow named Watson--comes into some of these rumors, himself, you see. A bit of a lecher, if not worse. Leering at the girls, sneaking around trying to get a look at them in the showers or on the toilet. Anyhow, I'm going to find out if it's true and write an expose."
Rick looked glum. He didn't like the idea of having his girl play such a role.
"You don't even look wayward," he said.
"Wanna bet? I bought some sluttish clothing--on my expense account--and some bright red lipstick and sexy underwear." She giggled. "I think it will be fun, pretending to be a tramp."
She saw that Rick was scandalized.
"Oh, don't be silly, Rick," she said. "It's not as if I were really going to be a tramp. It's the same thing as an actress playing a role, is all. And it's my job."
"I guess," he said.
They were in Christine's apartment. She had just returned from her shopping expedition and there were bags and boxes on the couch. She began to open them, grinning.
"Want me to model my slut clothes for you?" she asked.
He scowled and grinned at the same time.
"You can pass judgment, Rick; tell me if I look properly wayward and immoral."
The grin won out over the scowl.
"Okay," he said, for although he wasn't too keen on having her play at this game, he saw that it would be exciting to play it with her, in private.
He sat down in an armchair, lighted a cigarette and waited for her to start modeling.
Christine was wearing a beige tweed suit and her hair was done up neatly and her face was well-scrubbed. She didn't look at all like a tramp. But she possessed all the necessary attributes for the role, all the sexy parts. She took her jacket off. Her big, firm tits thrust out in her silk blouse. She took the blouse off. She unzippered her skirt and let it drop and stood in her bra and panties. These undergarments were moderate things, neither sexy nor demure, not very exciting. But her body was splendid, her hips flaring out from a tiny waist, her legs shapely and tightly muscled, her tits supported together in deep cleavage at the inner circumference of the globes.
She removed her bra.
Rick's eyes gleamed and he licked his lips. Without support, her tits did not sag at all; they thrust proudly out, the nipples arrogant little nuggets. She took her panties off.
Her pubic triangle was curly and thick and dark with reddish overtones. Her taut ass was like a teardrop, sweeping gracefully out from her narrow waist and then cutting sharply in to the backs of her thighs.
Rick's cock began to tense.
They had been lovers for several months but the sight of her naked body still aroused him greatly. But she certainly did not look like a tramp, she looked wholesome and healthy, sexy but not sinful. Nor was she playing the role; she moved without exaggerated postures or poses as she selected her new garments.
"Excuse me a moment," she said.
With an armful of clothing, she went into the bathroom.
Rick waited, his cock hardening, then relaxing a bit, then getting hard again.
When Christine came back into the room, he gasped.
She had let her hair down; it cascaded across her cheeks, loose and wild. She had painted her lips scarlet, and made up her eyes, putting on false eyelashes that fluttered seductively. She wore a short leather skirt, high black boots and dark mesh stockings; a wide belt and a sleeveless, low-necked blouse. Her nipples pressed against the blouse. She stood before Rick and began to grind her hips and toss her head so that her hair flowed across her cheeks. She parted her lips and showed the pink tip of her tongue. Her long-lashed eyes narrowed in a simulation of lust, the lashes going up and down, mocking the passionate, come-hither look of a loose woman. "Well?" she asked.
"Wayward," he pronounced. "Definitely wayward."
"What do you think of these?" she asked, and she lifted the hem of her leather skirt.
Her panties were crotchless, red silk bikinis with an oval cunt-out that framed her cunt. She tilted her pelvis forward and parted her thighs so that Rick could look right at her bared cunt. Her cunt lips were pink and moist and her clit was tight. It occurred to Rick that she was carrying this role to its logical extremes-getting into the part, as it were.
"Oh, wow!"
"Sexy, huh?"
"Yeah, but ... but you aren't gonna let anyone at the home see you in those, are you?"
She hesitated, then said, "No, Rick ... not while I'm wearing them." She averted her gaze. "It's just in case the director might sneak a look in my drawer. Maybe he's kinky for panties. Anyhow, it's part of my disguise-I couldn't go there wearing modest panties, could I?"
"I guess not." He didn't like the idea of having another man look at her in those crotchless panties but he guessed it was okay if someone just saw them in her drawer.
She struck a whorish pose and said, "Hey, big boy ... looking for a good fuck?"
"Yeah!" Rick said, falling into the game. "A sexy babe like you, why not? What's it gonna cost me?"
"That depends on what you want, sailor. You like a little French? Straight fuck? Half and half?"
"Where'd you learn those things?" Rick asked, falling out of the role again.
"On the streets, buster, where else? I been fucking and sucking since I was twelve and I love cock!"
"You ain't gonna really talk like that, are you?"
She shrugged. She was enjoying her play acting and thought that Rick was being stuffy and prudish. But she didn't want to make him angry or sulky, so she said, "No, not really. I'll just stand around looking wanton and see what happens."
"How long do you plan to stay there?"
"Only a couple of days. Talk to the other girls, see what Watson gets up to. Might be fun."
"Huh!" he snorted.
"You'll be a good boy while I'm gone, won't you?"
"Nope. I'm gonna buy myself a zoot suit and a key chain and stand around on street corners looking for women to seduce into white slavery."
Christine clapped her hands delightedly at that absurd image. Rick was pretty straight-laced.
But he was horny, as well, and she could see the tumescent lump in his pants.
"What do you want to do with that?" she asked.
"Got any suggestions?"
"Well, now. Let me think. Want to put it in something nice and hot and wet?" She rotated her hips. "Want me to lend you my cunt for a few minutes, honey? Nice big lump like that, I won't even charge you."
Rick saw that there were certain benefits to having his girl pretend to be wanton. It had all the advantages of being with a sex-mad trollop without the dangers. Christine, although she enjoyed sex, had always been pretty conservative and most of their fucking was done in the missionary position. He figured this was a golden opportunity to experiment.
He stood up and opened his fly.
His cock rushed out like a bull into the bull ring, eager to gore soft flesh on its solitary horn.
He said, "I only got time for a quick bang, kiddo, so why don't we do it against the wall?"
"You talked me into it, you sweet-talking bastard," said the girl reporter, grinning with her scarlet lips. "Too bad we don't have a lamp post and a brick wall and a couple of trash cans, but what the hell?"
Rick dropped his pants and stepped out of them. He pushed his shorts down, fumbling to get his cock back inside the opening in order to remove them, then pulling the elastic wide to circumnavigate the impending prong. Christine was giggling at these gyrations-and wiggling along with the giggling, for the sight of his awkward movements might be amusing but the sight of his big dick was also stimulating. Her hips rolled slowly from side to side and her trim belly pushed in and out, just as if she already had a cock stuck up her cunt. Christine had truly fallen into her assumed role and she was enjoying it. She had never been a lewd girl and her sexual encounters were few. Rick was the first young man with whom she'd had any sort of steady sex life, in fact, and she was modest and shy most of the time. Wearing the painted mask and the suggestive clothing of a wayward girl had freed her from her inhibitions and allowed her to behave out of character. Or perhaps it was the character she would have liked to have, had she not had those inhibitions.
Naked now, Rick advanced upon her with his dick out in front of him like a bowsprit before a sailing ship.
Christine was still fully dressed and she had no intention of undressing, for in removing her bizarre clothing she would be removing her mask; naked, she would be herself.
She reached out, hand open and palm up, and let his dick slide into her hand like a car into a parking slot. She began to rub up and down the underside of the cock, just skimming over him at first and then push-pulling more firmly. His cock began to thunder in her hand, the knob flaring.
Rick cupped her tits, massaging them through the blouse, then sliding his hands inside.
She rubbed the head of his dick against her belly, working the tip into her belly button. His cock was tingling as if he had batteries in his balls. Her smooth tummy shimmered. She lifted her leather skirt and began to rub his cockhead against her thighs and pelvis. His hands moved down from her tits, stroking her flanks and circling around to cup her ass and draw her loins forward. They kissed. They were both panting and they kissed hard, panting into each other's mouths.
She rubbed his cockhead against her cunt, where the sexy panties gaped open in an oval.
Her pussy was creamy; his pecker was throbbing; they were both ready to fuck but neither of them had ever fucked standing up before and weren't quite sure how to go about it.
Christine rose up on her high-booted calves.
Rick dipped his knees.
His cock slid into her crotch then but it was angled wrong; it lay flat along her twat, like a parallel bar on which she was perched.
She wriggled on that meaty stick, thighs tensing. Her cunt sucked greedily on the horizontal shaft, eager to be filled, but it would not go in from that angle. He had to get lower or she had to get higher.
Then she had a better idea.
She dismounted from his cock. Freed, his dick snapped back up to the proper fucking angle, towering before his belly. The dorsal surface of his stalk was glistening from contact with her pussy and the knob was glowing a bright, angry red.
Christine spun around, turning away from Rick. She leaned over from the waist and placed her hands on the back of the couch. She flipped her nimble ass up and looked back over her shoulder, wide-eyed and smiling seductively.
"Do it this way," she suggested.
Rick was ready to do it anyway whatsoever; his cock was turbulent with need and his balls were bloated and surging.
He lifted her leather skirt above the waist.
He started to pull her panties down, then realized that, with the crotch cut away, there was no need to remove them.
He fitted the head of his cock into her cunt and began to rub it around in the parted slot, holding it by the root and working the tip over her clit and through the creamy gash. Her hips jolted and she arched her slender back, lifting her ass--and, therefore, her crotch--a bit higher.
He gripped her by the hipbones, turning her pelvis from side to side and then pulling back. His cock began to push up her hole, unassisted, as he dragged on her hips, pulling her cunt over his cock like a tight boot over a foot.
Her cunt sucked at him, pulling him in, the inner muscles fluttering closed around his cockhead and hauling on his stalk, the lips clutching tightly around each new inch of cock as it was fed up her, then relaxing to allow another inch to enter and repeating the damp caress.
Rick grunted, braced his thighs and slammed the full length of his prick up her hot pussy.
"Oh!" she gasped, at the sudden shock of complete penetration; then, softer and undulating: "Ooooooh."
She began to thrust her haunches and roll her ass.
Rick was up her to the hilt, holding steady for a moment while she ground her ass against his belly. Then he began to fuck her with short, sharp jolts.
Meeting stroke for stroke, she rammed her crotch back as he plowed in. Her cunt was wringing his dick as he slipped it to her and massaging it as it was withdrawn. Cunt juice, pumped out by his big plunger, streaked her unfurled cunt lips and ran down her trim thighs in silvery ribbons. His belly was damp as the hot juice sprayed back.
His balls swung between her legs like the dewlap of a rutting moose, slapping into her crotch as his belly slapped against her pounding ass.
Christine took one supporting hand away from the back of the couch and, reaching between her thighs, cupped his balls. She squeezed lovingly, pulling him in by the balls, as if she wanted him to plunged deeper up her hole. But he was already banging his cock in to the hilt on every thrust.
He still held her by the hipbones, steering her nubile loins. He hauled her ass back as she dragged his balls forward and his supercharged cock glided up her channel to the roots.
Usually, Christine was a silent fucker.
Now, in her new character, she said, "Fuck me, baby ... fuck, fuck, fuck ... feed it up my hot hole, Rick, honey ... give me all of that sweet cockmeat...!"
Rick was momentarily startled by this new verbal dimension to their fucking.
Then, grimacing with the sensation of depraved lust, he rasped, "Take it, bitch! Take my prick up your juicy snatch, you cock-loving nympho!"
His words fed her passion; her words inspired him.
"Come in me!" she wailed. "Fill my cunt with that hot, thick cum! Cream up my hole!"
She rammed her ass back. Her cunt enveloped him and a fine mist of pussy juice sprayed out over his loins while thicker ribbons of juice poured down her thighs.
Christine was coming.
Long lateral waves of sensation were passing across her belly and breaking in her crotch. Her nipples were incandescent as light bulbs and her clitoris was glowing like an ember. Her movements became erratic and spasmodic as the waves of release came in faster sequence, peaking higher each time, each wave running quickly into the next until it became one prolonged surge of lust that swept through her pounding belly.
Rick felt her cunt melt around his cock.
He began to bang the rod to her furiously as he sought to catch up to the girl, to come with her. His balls swelled mightily with his seminal lead and his cock felt like a heated crowbar as it pried up her wet cunt.
Christine squeezed his balls as she dragged him up her hole. She was still mouthing sounds but they were wordless now, little gasps of passion and whimpers of desire.
Her cunt lips were almost turning inside out as he drew back, then he plunged in, stuffing her pink labia up her hole right along with his prick.
He began to moan.
Electric impulses ripped up his thighs and a maelstrom of lust swirled in his belly.
"Gonna ... come ..." he gasped.
She wailed and her ass bucked savagely.
Rick's balls exploded and the hot sap rushed up his cock and spurted from the knob in a violent geyser. Christine felt the thick joy juice splash into her womb. Her cunt responded, opening and turning to liquid as she creamed heavily, her cunt juice gushing out to blend with his jism.
Jolting in frantically, Rick poured a second heavy dose of cum up her box. A second deluge flowed from the girl. Her hole was filled to the brim with cum and cunt juice; it overflowed, bubbling, from her pussy.
He fed her a third wad of cum.
Drained, he dropped his head, holding himself steady while the reporter wriggled on his cock, grinding her wonderful climax out to a conclusion.
They clung together for a few moments, like mating dogs not able to uncouple.
He was thinking: It's fun to have a wayward girlfriend.
And Christine was thinking: It's nice to be a tramp; I've missed out on plenty of thrills, being wholesome....
It was true.
Christine had never been fucked from behind before; she'd never enjoyed much in the way of foreplay, other than the fingering and fondling of hands; she had never sucked a cock nor had her cunt sucked. She had never been reluctant to dabble in such refinements, and had often thought about them, but her sexual experiences were limited and the matter had simply never arisen. Someday, she supposed those things would happen. But as she had always been too shy to initiate them, Rick would have to start it--and Rick, taking her at face value, didn't imagine that Christine would be willing to experiment with the variations of love.
Now he drew his spent dick from her cunt.
It slithered out through the sticky lubricants. The head popped out and juice flooded up in her vacated gash.
When she turned around, Christine was flushed with lust. Rick thought she was blushing with embarrassment at having been so carried away by passion and he grinned sheepishly at her.
It had all been a game, he knew--Christine was not really a wayward girl.
And she knew that, as well; she knew that this had been a rare occasion inspired by the clothing and the cosmetics she wore, rather than by any impulse towards the sensual. But she almost--almost --wished that she were wayward.
Because it had sure been fun.
Christine changed back into her tweed suit. They didn't talk about the uniquely thrilling fuck they had just had. She washed the heavy paint from her face and they went out to dinner. She was prim and proper; he was polite and thoughtful. When they returned to her apartment after dinner, they went to bed.
They fucked with Rick on top, wordlessly.
And neither of them enjoyed it nearly as much as they had enjoyed the standing dog-fucking when she wore the clothing and the make-up of a lewd woman....
CHAPTER FOUR
At the home for wayward girls, John Watson, the director, was looking at the files on the two new girls who were arriving the next day.
Watson was a tall, elegant gentleman with swept-back hair, greying at the temples and an arrogant Roman nose. He wore a Brooks Brothers suit and a rep necktie.
Connie Caruthers, the housemother, had just brought the forms into Watson's office. She stood beside his desk while he looked at them. Connie was a redhead with a stern sort of face and huge tits. She wore a white cotton blouse and a blue skirt that sheathed her haunches very tightly. As she waited, she shifted her weight from foot to foot and her wide, firm ass strained at the material of her skirt. There was a curious ambiguity about the woman. Her stern face seemed the type that would be strict and domineering, a martinet who kept close tabs on the inmates of the home, a guardian of morality and a staunch defender of chastity. Yet she wore deep red lipstick and her eyes were bright with the sort of suggestive gleam that has nothing to do with righteousness.
Watson looked up, grinning.
"This Wilson girl sounds interesting," he said.
"Yes. I've checked with her school. Apparently she's an incorrigible little minx. I think she will fit in very nicely here at the home."
They exchanged knowing smiles.
He said, "This other girl ... Fairly ..." Christine Fairmont had used an alias, of course, a sort of nom de trollop. "... there doesn't seem to be much information on her."
"No. It's rather suspicious. We've never had a wayward girl check herself in, before. But who knows? Perhaps she really wants to correct her behavior. I think we should tread lightly with her, until we see the lay of the land."
"Might be a spy?"
"Could be."
"Huramm. I don't suppose we can refuse her?
Hardly, John. That would be suspicious."
"Well, we'll play it by ear and deal with her the case may warrant." He tossed Christine's file aside and looked at Bonny Wilson's once again, smiling.
"Yes, I'm eager to meet Miss Wilson," he said. "Ummm. So am I."
"In fact ... I already have a hard-on, thinking about it. I do relish fourteen-year-old sluts." "I suppose you'll let me check her out, first?" "Of course, Connie, as usual." Connie licked her lips. "About that hard-on ..." she said. "Ummm?"
"Would you like me to do something about it?" "What a pleasant idea," Watson said. "Fuck? Or suck?" she asked. "To your taste, my dear." "You know very well that I'm a dedicated cock sucker."
Watson knew that from long experience. Connie had nothing against fucking but her true joy was taking cock into her mouth. She was indiscriminate about that, too. She would just as soon suck a cunt as a cock and it was rumored that she sometimes sucked off dogs, although that had never been proven outside the canine world and might have been scandalous gossip. After all, the charitable sort of woman who would donate her time to a home for misguided girls was also the type to do good works at a home for stray dogs, and if she gave head instead of bones, who can say that she was not motivated by kindness?
Now the lusty redhead was licking her scarlet lips with the relish of a true cock sucker.
Watson's personal taste ran towards young girls but his dick had started to throb now, for Connie's considerable expertise more than made up for her years.
He stood up and moved around to the side of his desk. He waited for a moment, to see if she wanted to take his dick out. When she made no move to do so, he unzippered his fly and, reaching in, dragged out his cock. It was a big dick, long and thick and, at the moment, hard as a stone. It jutted out of his pants, angled upwards, the fat crown swollen and the thick vein running up the underside throbbing spasmodically.
Connie gazed appreciatively and expectantly at this big, shapely cock. One of her preliminary delights was in looking at a cock before she touched it and the visual thrill set her mouth to watering. She tilted her head slightly and dipped from the knees, so she could see the seamed underside; she gazed at his swollen balls and eyed his bloated, triangular cockhead. Somehow, she found it more exciting to see his dick this way, sticking out of his pants while, in other respects, the man was still fully dressed.
She intended to keep her own clothing on, as well. Sucking the prick of a man when he was still dressed, even to the necktie, and keeping her own clothing on, in some way seemed dirtier and more depraved-and the more dirty and depraved it was, the better Connie liked it. She needed no caress in return; it was if her mouth were a sexual organ, her tongue a sensitive clitoris. When a man came in her mouth, she almost always had an orgasm, herself. This made the woman a delight in the local singles' bars, where she habitually picked up horny gentlemen and blew them expertly and efficiently, while they appreciated her talents and never had to so much as dirty their hands.
Sometimes they thought she was a little strange.
Now she reached out and took his cock into her hand, jiggling it as if judging the weight of the hard handful. His cock expanded mightily in her palm and the knob flared out like the head of a hooded cobra.
She rubbed the underside of the stalk and switched her thumb back and forth across the electric point where the prick spread out into the big, bivalved head.
Her other hand crept down and cupped his balls, squeezing gently as she frigged up and down his stalk with the other hand and thumbed the tip, fondling all of his sexual tackle at the same time. Her fist skimmed up and down his pecker, barely making contact and the light, easy friction caused him to gasp. His big cock began to vibrate like crystal in response to a shattering chord. He was eager to bury that demanding joystick in her hot mouth, but knew he would have to be patient--Connie was no glutton who would pounce instantly on a ready cock; she liked to savor the joys of expectation, visual and tactile, before she proceeded to the ecstasy of the oral. And who was he to interfere with the time-tested procedures of a master cock sucker?
He gritted his teeth, breathing hard and pushing his hips out towards the woman.
Her grip tightened, hauling his foreskin up and down, curling it in a fold over the ledge of his cockhead, then drawing it back tight and taut, so that the knob stood out, humming and tingling. She moved slowly and steadily, gazing in fascination at the head of his pecker, loving to see the way his cock was reacting to her manual stimulation. Watson reached out, tentatively, for her big tits.
But Connie shook her head quickly.
"Don't touch me," she whispered. "Just relax and let me do it all, okay?"
He understood the dark desires that drove this sexy redhead; realized that in some way she thought it was dirtier to suck a man off without any stimulation to her own body, to suck for the pure sexual joy of the act itself, rather than because her lust had been aroused by his hands. It was an unselfish attitude, yet it brought her a secret pleasure of depravity ... perhaps even a delicious twinge of shame. He didn't give a damn what desires or fantasies motivated her, as long as he got his cock into her mouth.
And that was a foregone conclusion, because she was fairly drooling for dick by this time, as she massaged his pecker and fondled his balls and licked her red lips.
She sank gracefully to her knees before him, preparing to feast on this long, hot delicacy.
But still, although ravenous for pecker, she did not slam that succulent cock into her mouth out of hand. Her approach was dainty and delicate. So properly did she lower her hungry lips to the phallic delight that she might have had a napkin tucked under chin and a book of etiquette open beside her. She began to lick at the air, the tip of her tongue an inch away from the head of his turbulent pecker. Her tongue swept across her pouting lower lip, then flicked out, coiling up and letting him see exactly how the tonguing process would, soon enough, work on his fiery cock.
Watson groaned. He held his hands at his sides and pushed his hips out towards that tantalizing tongue.
Connie touched the tip of her tongue against the underside of his meaty cockhead, drawing it back immediately, as if she'd touched a hot stove. Her red lips glistened, her pink tongue gleamed. He noticed that her lipstick was the same shade of dark red as the head of an aroused cock and wondered, vaguely, if this were by design or accident or Freudian connection.
The head of his dick seemed to be smoking, he was so hot. She teased him, and herself, tapping her tongue to the big slab and then withdrawing it after the light touch. She was flirting with his prick, almost like a young girl who has never sucked a cock and is struggling between the ravenous desire to gobble the tasty wad and the hesitancy of the unknown. And--as is generally the case in such matters--desire won out over inhibitions.
She began laving his cockhead with long, moist strokes, her talented tongue coiling like a serpent all around the bloated slab and across the cleft tip. She pulled back and gently blew on the throbbing wedge, as if it were a hot mouthful of meat that she wished to cool before she ate it. Then she tongued some more, lashing and fluttering in squiggly patterns, her tongue dancing and weaving all over his flaring helmet with loving care.
Connie purred, cat-like, as the meaty, musky taste of his dick invigorated her taste buds. She loved every aspect of sucking prick. She adored the taste and the texture, thrilled to the way a cock swelled up in her mouth and positively went into raptures when a man dumped his heavy cream into her throat. That was why she could make such a leisurely approach to this cock sucking, enjoying each separate aspect as it arrived, rather than working efficiently and expediently towards the creamy culmination.
This did not escape Watson's attention.
So many women, in his experience, were willing and eager to milk a dick, but they always approached the welcome task as if they were in a hurry-as if his orgasm were a train that had to depart on schedule. To them the orgasm was the main objective, drinking cum was the purpose and the sucking along the way was incidental. He appreciated the gusto with which Connie enjoyed every aspect, from preliminary lick to creamy climax, for its own sake. She mouthed with relish, elan and style.
Lowering her face and tipping her head to the side, she began to tongue his balls.
Left abandoned for the moment, his dick pulsated and throbbed like a twisted cable as her tongue laved all over his overfilled balls. She raised the hairy sac and licked underneath; she kissed the swollen bag; she sucked on his sperm banks avidly, filling her maw with ball meat. Her expression was one of great concentration as she worked on this appetizer-an appetizer that, with dual function, both whetted her appetite and at the same time contained the oily nectar that would eventually quench that hunger.
"Good," she whispered. "Good."
She began to tongue up his shaft, rising inch by inch with her tongue lashing laterally across the grain.
She licked up as far as the knob, then retreated back down the stalk. Her saliva coated his fat rod and her heated breath wafted over him. She kept whispering, "Good, good," and the single syllable seemed to be etched into his cock and balls. Rising up again, she changed her tongue strokes so that this time she was running that hot caresser in vertical laps from hilt to head.
Thus far, only her tongue had worked on him.
Now she fitted her parted lips to the root of his pecker and began to slide her head up and down the stalk, still halting just short of the crown. His cockhead was the culmination and she took her own sweet time about getting to it.
She drew back, squatting on her heels, gazing with lust-narrowed eyes at the dick she had been stimulating.
Watson heard her gasp.
His eyes had been closed. Now he looked down and saw the reason for her little gasp. A blob of cum had oozed from his cleft and was trickling sluggishly down the head of his cock. Connie was staring at it with hot eyes, watching the progress as it slid down his knob and onto his stalk. The sticky, creamy drop ran down the fat, dark ventral vein, as if it were following a road. Connie waited until the solitary nugget of nectar had run down almost to his balls. Then she pushed her tongue out, curled up like a spoon, and gathered up the succulent drop of cum.
She let the frothy tidbit slip around on her taste buds for a moment, as if she were sampling some new delicacy; then she threw her head back and, with her lips parted, let the slimy nugget slide down her gullet.
That single preliminary drop had left a luminescent track, like the trail of a snail, down his stalk. Connie ran the tip of her tongue up that glistening line, gathering up every bit of the tasty delicacy, licking the oblong platter clean.
That initial taste of cum inspired the greedy girl.
She could dally no longer over the delicate approached. She was burning with the urge to suck his pecker into her mouth and milk it to the bone.
She fitted her lips to the tip of his cock and let them part slowly, taking him into her mouth millimeter by millimeter with her red lips unfurling around the meaty morsel like the petals of a carnivorous plant around its prey.
His cockhead buried in her mouth and her lips clamped tightly closed behind it, as if she had trapped that tasty wedge. His long, vibrant rod stood out like a bolt, fixing her head to his crotch at a distance of some six inches. She sucked on his knob, her cheeks hollowing in and her tongue lashing around it. Then she began to work her way down the rod.
Inch by inch, she devoured his succulent wand, slurping and sucking as she descended.
She was cross-eyed, as she looked inwards, watching the meaty stalk upon which she was feeding. The further down the dick she went, the more her eyes crossed to keep it in focus. He felt his cockhead lodge in her throat and thought she had taken all that she could manage, but she kept going down, relentlessly, taking the tip right down her gullet and working her lips down towards the very root of his thick stem. -She took every inch into her head.
Her nose nestled in his pubic hair and her chin pressed into his swollen balls and every single millimeter of his hot dick was buried in her mouth and throat.
She held steady for a moment, then began to bob her head up and down, lips pursed, tongue flaring.
So hugely did the cock-hungry redhead enjoy what she was doing that, despite the magnitude of her mouthful, she grinned, her red lips turning up into a smile as they slowly pulled up and pushed down on his cock.
She gagged as the knob stuck in her throat but her head rose and fell without faltering; nothing as prosaic as a gag reflex could halt the inexorable process of milking this big dick now. Her head went up and down as if she were bobbing for apples. She was holding his balls in both hands, but she was not pumping his stalk and caressing him with her hands, for she neither wanted nor needed to hasten the blow job with manual stimulation. Her lips, tongue and cheeks were enough and Watson was starting to tremble as he rose towards the heights of sensation.
Her tongue bridged under his cockhead, fluttering as that fat feast slipped over it, en-route to her throat via her mouth. Her face turned from side to side, creating detours in the passage of his cockhead from lips to gullet. She took the head of his prick into first one cheek and then the other. Her cheeks bulged out like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts and Watson's cache of stored nuts was starting to tingle, ready to burst.
He laid a hand behind her head, not pushing or trying to set the tempo, just resting it there gently, signifying the nearness of his orgasm.
"Ummm?" she sighed.
"Uramm," he gasped.
Promised that the nectar of lust was forthcoming, Connie began to suck harder and faster. Her greedy mouth fairly flew up and down on his cock, her tongue fluttering and her cheeks pulling on his meat. Her lips compressed into a tight, sucking clamp as they sped along his rod.
She gurgled as his cockhead blocked her throat.
She sighed as she rose up the stalk.
She was drooling for cum and he was trembling as he prepared to feed her on that longed-for spurt.
Suddenly he stiffened.
Connie was on the upstroke. She drew up until only the head of his prick was clamped in the tight collar of her red lips and paused there, tongue slurping under his cockhead.
He hosed her mouth with a thick jet of quick silvery cum, the hot load splashing into her cheeks, whitewashing her tonsils and skimming over her tongue.
"Ahhh," she sighed, as her mouth filled with cream.
She pushed her head down, taking his second spurt right into her throat and gulping it down. Her mouth was full of cum. The hot juice overflowed, bubbling from her compressed lips and running down her chin. She swallowed as fast as she could but he poured yet a third spout into her mouth before she managed to gulp down the thick load that was already there.
True to her nature, the instant that Connie felt his cum in her mouth, her pussy creamed.
Untouched and neglected, that hot box rippled and cunt juice flooded from her, soaking her panties and running down her lush thighs in streamers and banners.
Her head continued to rise and fall steadily as she milked out every last drop from his cock and balls.
Then she sucked steadily away to make sure that not a single precious drop remained in his cockhead. Satisfied that she had drained him dry, she pulled her lips away. His peckerhead popped free like a cork from a bottle. Her mouth was still filled with cum and she took a moment to let this trickle down her throat. Then she used her tongue to gather up the errant drops that had overflowed her lips and run down his stalk onto his balls. Her tongue pushed into every nook and cranny as she collected the joy juice from his crotch.
"That," she whispered, "was delicious."
She licked her lips. A smear of jism had dribbled onto her hand and she lifted her hand to her mouth and tongued the congealing cream from it, wanting every succulent drop.
He tucked his spent dick away. She took out a small mirror and renewed the scarlet slash of her lipstick, which had become smudged as she'd slurped dick and drunk cum. Then, because it was during working hours, Watson and Connie went back to work.
And this was just a usual day's activities at the home for wayward girls, where Christine hoped to get a story for her paper and where Bonny Wilson thought she would have to be celibate....
CHAPTER FIVE
Bonny Wilson was being anything but celibate, at the moment. She was making good use of her last day of freedom, as if she could hoard fucks like a squirrel stores nuts for winter. She stood beside the old Ford parked under the tree at Blue Bell Point, quite naked. An old car blanket was squared on the ground beside the car and Sam and Ralph were debating who should fuck her first (of the two)
or second (counting Tom). Tom himself, disdainful of anyone who would fuck on the ground, was polishing his wheel covers with an old rag. The rag had some cum stains on it, from an occasion when his date had been less accommodating than Bonny and he'd had to settle for a handjob, but the cum did not hurt the polish at all; it seemed to make the chrome shine all the better. He could see his face reflected in the disks and he grinned and thought what a handsome devil he was. Tom certainly didn't blame Bonny for preferring him to either of his friends. And not only was he better looking, but he had a lot more class. Imagine fucking on the ground! It appalled him. He was nervous about the idea of fucking in a bed, but the ground ... why that was no better than an animal! For his part, Tom would have gone without before he'd do anything as sordid as ball on the earth, which just didn't seem natural to him. It seemed depraved and maybe sinful. After all, if the Lord had wanted people to fuck on the ground, he wouldn't have made cars with back seats.
Sam and Ralph were having trouble deciding how to decide. They had drawn straws and tossed coins with no result. They had no baseball bat with which to choose up and, although they might have substituted a cock for a bat, neither was willing to wrap a fist around the other's dick. Both were confident lads. Sam was proud of his big prick and Ralph knew that he was a good kisser. They agreed to ask Bonny who she wanted to fuck next.
That put Bonny on the spot, for she liked both boys and had no desire to play favorites.
She thought for a minute and then a mysterious look appeared on her saucy face.
"But ... should I be greedy and fuck the one I want first, or should I have the best for last?" she said.
Thus she nicely set up a "Lady and the Tiger" situation, offensive to neither youth.
Bonny had already decided it would be better to have Ralph fuck her first, since his cock was smaller. If Sam got up her twat before Ralph did, he might spread it open too far and Ralph's smaller dick would flounder helplessly about.
Looking enigmatic, she said, "Ralph, you can fuck me next."
Ralph and Sam glared at each other, not at all sure which of them had been complimented by this request. But Ralph was eager to go at it. He whipped his jeans off. His dick wasn't particularly long but it wasn't exactly truncated, either, and it was nice and hard and hot, Bonny noted.
Bonny knelt on the blanket.
Ralph approached, his cock leading like a compass needle, directing the rest of his body. As he stepped up beside the blanket, Bonny was tempted to slip his cock into her mouth and give it some sucking, but she resisted the urge. Bonny had nothing against sucking cock, but she didn't want to suck one of these guys while the others were in attendance. That was a trump card to be saved for such time as she might be alone with one of them, when she could blow him and tell him that he was the only boy she'd ever given head to, because she liked him best of all. Bonny had become rather clever in these matters, knowing the benefits to be gained from boosting a young man's ego, pride and virility.
She sat back, knees up, the reclined with her legs spread and her slender body arched.
Ralph knelt between her thighs.
His cock thrust out over her trim little belly, taut as a coiled spring and looking very fat because it was not so very long. It was nicely gnarled, however, and the dark vein that pulsed up the shaft was as thick as her little finger.
He wrapped his fist around the stalk and pumped it a couple of times, although it certainly needed no manual stimulation, for it was about as hard as a dick can get.
Sam, disgruntled at having to wait, rasped, "C'mon, get on with it, will yuh?"
Having nothing else to do at the moment, he produced his own splendid tool. He moved closer, figuring it would be just as well to have Bonny see how much bigger his cock was than Ralph's and feeling certain that she had saved the best until last.
Bonny arched, her lithe body rippling, signifying her readiness to fuck. Her eyes slid back and forth between the two dicks presented to her gaze and her juicy cunt fluttered, the lips parted and the slot flooding.
Ralph fitted his cockhead to that creamy gash and slipped it slowly up her hole. Ralph was a frantic fucker. The instant he felt pussy clutching his dick, he began to rattle and shake as if his skeleton were coming disjointed. He snorted and panted like a steam engine. His face contorted in wonderment and joy. Then he began to feed the cock to her in instant desperation, shoveling the dick in like a stoker feeding a furnace.
He was fucking so violently that he was in danger of falling off her slippery body. He grasped her tits, holding on to keep his balance, as his ass bucked and corkscrewed in and out with short, sharp jabs that rattled their hipbones together. His elbows flew in and out like a crowing rooster. His dick sped up her slippery cunt, hissing and squishing.
Bonny writhed beneath him, rotating her hips laterally and humping her belly up and down. Her ass rose right off the blanket as she ground herself against his savage assault. She threw her legs up and hooked them around his flanks, clamping him tightly, as if to moderate the furious pace of his thrusts, but it didn't hinder the horny lad in the slightest. He kept up the frantic pounding and now that her thighs had locked them together, he was slamming her slim pelvis back and forth and banging her ass down hard on the blanket. He grunted each time he rammed his cock home. Bonny whimpered steadily, a soft, moist song that was punctuated by his guttural grunts.
He was building rapidly and relentlessly towards a climax.
It occurred to Bonny .that since these boys were so horny that they all came with dispatch, it was just as well that she had the three of them in a package deal, for Bonny liked long fucking--although she didn't care if it was one cock or a sequence of cocks that supplied that prolonged duration.
Growling and fucking with vigor, Ralph poured his slippery wad up her cunt.
He came in three or four separate spurts, his face distorted with the sensation so that he appeared demented. Then he slowed. His loins jerked, convulsively, then stilled.
He grinned and looked as if he intended to kiss Bonny, feeling affectionate towards the vessel that contained his seed.
But then Sam moved in.
"Get out of the way," Sam snarled, for Sam, having been a keen observer, was impatient to immerse his own hot cock in that steamy tunnel.
And Bonny was just as eager to have him.
Ralph pulled back, his dick softening and dropping out of her hole, the head slapping on the blanket. Sam knelt in his place, pushing him aside. Sam's big cock was vibrant with need, tingling and throbbing all down the length and the knob was flushed an angry red hue.
Bonny tilted her cunt up, bracing herself on shoulders and feet with her ass lifted from the blanket and her pelvis balanced in the air. Her pussy was bubbling with cum and cunt juice and the lips had folded open, exposing the darker inner flesh.
Sam took aim from a distance, sighting across his cockhead as if it were the front sight of a rifle. He lunged at her.
His cock bounced off her knee, ricocheted along her thigh, skimmed up her belly. Her pelvis stab- bed down and both Bonny and Sam groaned in frustration at the missed shot. He drew back and plunged in again, more accurately this time, and his sturdy rod dove into her cunt.
His cock ran in all the way on that violent thrust, going deeper than either Tom's or Ralph's had and sending a new tingle through the wanton nymphet as the head reached hitherto untouched flesh. His balls slammed against her uplifted ass and his belly slapped against hers. They quivered together, her body arched, and his braced, as if held in suspension above the earth and out of time ... a carnal tableau in suspended animation.
They both sighed happily.
Then they began to fuck with vigor.
Sam fucked as frantically as Ralph but because his cock was longer the cycle took longer--he had more hot cunt through which to pass on every stroke, more dick to be fed up that slippery hole. He poured the pork to her with long, fluid strokes, his ass dipping as he drove in with an underslung thrust, then corkscrewing as he threaded it up like a bolt through a soft, pink nut, then levering down across her clitoris and pounding her into the ground. She was dancing a horizontal waltz beneath him, her lithe, nubile loins pumping, her haunches heaving, her flanks rippling and all the while her pliable cunt molded itself to the contours of his big cock, pulling and sucking and milking.
His orgasm came as fast and as hard as Ralph's had but this time, because of the preliminary work that Ralph had done, Bonny came with him.
Her cunt liquefied.
Gasping and wailing, she flooded with love juice as his prick poured a steady stream of cum up her melting pussy.
Tom had a hard-on again; he was looking at it, reflected in the chrome disks of his wheel covers, his sexuality inextricably tied to his automobile.
He took Bonny by the hand and pulled her to her feet.
Her knees were watery and her thighs were weak in the aftermath of her orgasm but she smiled and went willingly with him as he led her back to the car. He left the back door open this time, placing her on the edge of the seat and feeding the pork to her that way, with his ass bucking outside of the car.
He came; she didn't; it made no difference because now Ralph had a hard-on again and, dragging her back to the blanket he threw a fast and ferocious fuck into her, coming without delay. Bonny started to come with him and her orgasm was prolonged so that she was till coming when Sam, sporting a brand-new erection, took Ralph's place in the saddle and plowed her with reckless abandon.
Then all three boys were spent and Bonny was glowing with contentment. It sure was nice to be popular.
* * *
When Bonny got home--she left the car on the corner and walked to her house--she heard activity in the front room. She tiptoed to the door and looked in.
Her mother had brought three men home from the bar. One was Gus.
The other two were strangers that she had met in the bar. They all had big cocks.
Irma was blowing them.
The men were sitting in three chairs, all in a row, and Irma was crawling around on the floor, moving from cock to cock and slurping on each in turn. She didn't linger long enough over any single cock to bring the man off, but took a few slurps and moved on to the next. It was a game. They were having a contest to see which gentleman would get his rocks off first.
Bonny watched, fascinated. Bonny was very glad that she'd just come a lot, because otherwise this scene would have made her tremendously frustrated. As it was, it made her a little hot and a little hungry, but mainly she was interested in observing her mother's technique.
One by one, the men became aware of Bonny's presence.
They grinned at her, winking and holding forefingers to lips to caution her to silence. It was not necessary, for Bonny had no intention of making her presence known to her mother, who was too busy eating cock to notice her.
The man on the left, a brawny fellow with a beard, blew his wad first.
Irma greedily swallowed it down, sucking until she had drained him to the dregs, then moved on and continued to alternate between the other two.
Gus, having already come in the bar, was at a disadvantage. The other man, a fellow with a bald, glistening skull that came to a point and resembled a cockhead with ears, shot a wad of slime into Irma's mouth next. Squealing merrily, she swallowed it. She moved on to Gus and began to suck him steadily and with great attention to details. Her head was moving more slowly by this time, for her neck was getting tired and her jaws were starting to ache.
Bonny would have liked to offer her services as a replacement, but didn't think her mother would go for that.
Watching all this cock sucking was making her mouth water and her pussy tingle. Bonny had never done a whole lot of cock sucking, herself, because she was most often the essential cunt in a gang bang and having a succession of cocks fed up her cunt in a train left her little time to take it in the mouth, but she dearly liked milking a dick and drinking cum and she was proud of her mother's oral capacity.
Finally, abandoning her principles because she was starting to flag, Irma wrapped her hand around Gus's fat stalk and began to push-pull on his cock while she sucked on the head, effectively jerking him off into her mouth.
Under the double stimulation of sucking and jerking, he began to quiver and, in due course, his jism sped up his rod and splattered into Irma's mouth.
Irma drew back, smiling contentedly as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Then she saw Bonny.
Her jaw dropped open. Bonny could see a film of cum on her tongue.
"Bonny!" she howled.
"Hi, Mom," said the nymphet. "Sucking plenty of cock today, I see."
Bonny had some misguided idea that, having discovered her mother in an oral gang bang, that worthy woman would be more inclined to be tolerant of Bonny's own activities.
But Bonny did not know the way the mind of a mother worked in such situations.
Instead of looking sheepish or ashamed, Irma was glaring at her in a red-faced fury.
"You little tramp!" she cried.
"Huh?" said the girl, amazed.
"You slut!"
"It wasn't me sucking dick, Mom...." she said, reasonably, thinking that somehow, possibly through overindulgence at the corner bar, her mother had their roles confused and reversed.
"You were watching!"
"But gee, I...."
"There is nothing on earth more perverted and depraved than a fourteen-year-old girl who would sneak up on her mother while her mother is giving head to three gentlemen! Nothing!"
"You tell the little trollop, Irma," Gus said, encouragingly. He grinned. "She'll come to no good end, if she's allowed to spy on her own moth while she's sucking cock."
Irma rose to her feet. On unsteady legs, she advanced on the dumbfounded girl, her big jaw thrust out, her eyes blazing, her huge tits billowing like cushions. Her lips were smeared with cum but they twisted with righteousness.
Bonny backed off, retreating before this unwarranted fury.
Irma shook her finger in Bonny's face.
Irma said, "It's all I can say, you little whore! It's a damn good thing that you're going to the home for wayward girls tomorrow! They'll teach you how to behave!"
And she nodded, as if to affirm the truth of that statement...
CHAPTER SIX
Christine Fairmont, alias Christine Fairly, arrived at the home for wayward girls bright and early, eager to get on with her investigations and hopeful of a journalistic coup.
A stern-faced woman-it was Connie-took her into a somber room and asked her a few questions, She stared at the girl reporter with a level, steady gaze, under which Christine felt a surge of discomfort. The woman seemed suspicious.
Christine said, "Yes, you see I'm really trying to
give up my life of sin and there aren't any organizations--like Whores Anonymous, say--to which a girl can turn when she wants to mend her immoral ways."
Connie peered sharply at her.
It occurred to Christine that the run-of-the-mill or garden variety of wayward girl might not speak quite that way; she said, "I come from a good home, you see. My parents are heartily ashamed of my behavior."
But that was another pitfall.
"Why don't you go home, then?" Connie asked.
"Errr...."
"This home is for the lower classes, you know." Christine thought fast.
"Well, I can't go home because ... it was my father who started me on my incontinent life." "Incest?" "I'm afraid so."
"I see." Connie looked at her notes while she digested that. She didn't trust this girl a bit. "How old were you?"
"Sixteen," Christine said, plucking a number out of the air.
"And you were a virgin then?"
"Oh, yes."
Christine, in her real life, had not lost her cherry until she was eighteen. She had thought that sixteen was a seemly age at which to become wanton. But Connie scowled.
She said, "If you were a virgin at sixteen, you can't really be termed a wayward girl."
Christine blinked.
"Many of our girls have started having sex much younger than that."
Christine bit her lip; she didn't know what to say. "Were there other factors? Did you, for instance, start sucking cocks when you were still virginal?"
"Certainly not!" Christine said, shocked at the very idea. "I've never sucked a...." But then she remembered that she was playing a role; she began again: "Well, I've only sucked a few cocks but that wasn't my fault ... men always are so eager to get up my cunt that they stick it up there before I have a proper chance to suck them off. That's what it is."
"Hummm. You don't sound very wayward, I must say." "Oh, I am! I am!" "Ever take it up the ass?" Christine turned bright red; role be damned, she would never confess to a thing like that. Taking the middle ground, she said, "No ... but that's because my asshole is too tight. I wouldn't mind it if I met a man with a really tiny prick, but all the men I know have gigantic cocks."
"Umm. Well, that's something. Let's see now ... do you take part in gang bangs?"
Biting her lip and hoping that her shock would be mistaken for seemly regret, Christine nodded.
"Good."
"Good?"
"Well, if you aren't wayward, you can't stay here, so in that respect, it's good."
"Oh. I see," said Christine, who didn't.
"Let me see now ... do you ever fuck animals?"
"Animals!"
"You know ... dogs, pigs, goats ..."
Christine had to lower her face. She was scandalized and starting to tremble. But she saw that these questions were necessary; saw that the wayward girls who came here were far worse than she had imagined them to be and that these questions were necessary if the girls were to be protected against themselves. After all, if a girl had a penchant for fucking dogs, it would never do to let her feed the watchdog-things like that.
But she absolutely could not claim to have fucked a dog! She said, "No ... only men." "Men? No women?"
"Women? How ... why ... what do you ... oh! Good heavens! I can see that you really do get an assortment of depravity with which to deal. No, I only fuck men, I'm afraid ... errr ... I mean, I'm glad to say. My depravity is heterosexual and straightforward."
Connie nodded, smiling curiously.
She could see that this was no ordinary wayward girl and her suspicions were well-founded.
"Well, that's all for now. I'll assign you to a room with another new girl. She should be arriving shortly. Oh, one other thing ... have you brought a vibrator or a dildo with you?"
"Oh, no," Christine said, hastily, thinking that the woman figured she might have been trying to smuggle such a device in. But she had missed the point again.
"I'll issue one, in that case," Connie told her. "Issue me one?" "Of course."
"But ... I don't understand...." Connie sighed as if she were dealing with a halfwit.
She said, "Wayward girls will not be denied their orgasms, Christine. That's a fact of nature. We here at the home have no desire--nor right--to deprive a girl of sexual release. But we figure it is far better if the girls are equipped to deal with that themselves, you see. If a young woman can vibrate her own cunt, she is less likely to get so randy that she sneaks out looking for men. Isn't that logical?"
"I ... guess so."
"Which would you prefer? A rubber dick or a plastic vibrator of a phallic configuration."
Christine, having never owned or used either one, shrugged helplessly. Connie waited impatiently. Finally the bemused reporter said, "The vibrator, I guess," because that sounded a bit less sordid than a dildo.
"Fine. And I hope you'll be happy here."
"Oh, I'm sure I shall," Christine said, politely.
Connie showed Christine to her room, a cubicle with a single bed against either side wall and a window at the back. The window looked out on the street and Christine, looking out, noticed half a dozen young men lurking on the street corner, obviously hoping to snatch up the odd wayward girl coming or going. She shook her head. She had been considerably shaken by the interview with Connie; had no idea just how wayward these girls could be.
She began to unpack, leaving her sexy underwear on top of the dresser so it would be noticed. Feeling that she had failed abysmally in the oral examination, she was glad that she at least had the proper garb for waywardness.
Connie came back with the vibrator.
She noticed the crotchless panties and the bra with holes cut out for the nipples and she nodded approvingly.
She said, "I'll leave you alone ... to get acclimated. Your roommate is due shortly so if you wish to vibrate your cunt before she gets here-in privacy, I mean-you'd better not delay too long." She smiled strangely and went out.
* * *
In Watson's office, Connie said, "I'm certain she isn't what she claims to be."
"Too bad," he said. "Good looking piece."
"Yes, but it's better not to take a chance ... until we have a bit of leverage, eh? And, anyhow, Miss Wilson should be arriving at any moment and we have no doubts about her."
They grinned conspiratorially at one another.
Watson's cock was hard and Connie's mouth was watering. They were going to teach Bonny how to behave, no doubt of that.
* * *
Christine, shocked and confused and wondering if she had gotten in over her head, sat on her bed.
All those questions regarding her sex life had amazed her, for she was quite innocent. Dogs! Other women! Cock sucking! Dildos and vibrators! The very thought embarrassed her.
But it had also made her horny.
She felt steeped in depravity--not a part of it but surrounded by it--and it simply had to affect the girl. She wished that Rick were there right now. She felt like fucking.
Then she noticed the vibrator on the dresser....
Christine had seen phallic-shaped vibrators in shop windows and she knew a few girls who had them but, although Christine considered herself a modern, liberated woman, she was totally inexperienced in such orgasm-inducing devices. She had always thought they were rather silly, more a joke than an erotic stimulant. Still, some of her girlfriends swore by them and ... and there was one right there on the dresser.
She got up and picked up the long plastic cock-shaped tool and looked at it, turning it around in her hand. She was both curious and sexually aroused. It was about eight inches long, with a flaring head. She switched the tool on and it began to hum and vibrate in her hand. She could see that it would not be unpleasant to apply such a thing to her clitoris. It could also be used like a dildo up her hole. She began to feel very excited and quite deliciously naughty. Shall I use it? she asked herself. Why not? There was no harm in it, it would feel good and ... was she rationalizing? ... it could be considered part of her investigative reporting.
She tossed it, still switched-on, onto the bed, where it buzzed away like an angry hornet-or a disembodied cock, furious that it was not stuck up a cunt.
She took her sexy short leather skirt off, leaving the crotchless panties on. She took her blouse off. After thinking about it for a moment, she put the bra on-the one cut out around the nipples. Her nipples were stiff and stuck out very nicely through the oval holes. Christine looked at herself in the mirror and felt a tingle of depravity at her sultry, sexy appearance. It was fun, feigning waywardness, she thought. There were certain advantages in being lewd and wanton. And since she was playing the role, she figured she might as well reap the benefits.
She sat down on the bed, picked up the humming vibrator and touched the tip to her nipples Her nipples fairly exploded as the smooth surface shimmered over them, standing out like pink rockets from her areolas-as if they had burst through the fabric of the cut-out bra.
She massaged her tits for a while, sitting in the cross-legged lotus position. Then she turned the vibrator upon her pussy.
She massaged her clitoris and it sent shivers of passion racing through her body.
She ran the mobile tip up and down her slot, along the unfolded cunt lips, and her gash filled with love juice.
She slid the plastic cock down and let the busy tip flutter in the crack of her ass and prod at her tight asshole.
It had never before in her life occurred to the girl reporter to caress her anus, nor had a man ever touched her there. It took her by surprise to realize what she was doing-a thing that she had never dreamed of doing coming so naturally to her. She figured that the clothing must be responsible--that in donning the garb and the paint of a trollop, she had somehow gained the accompanying instincts and desires. And she didn't mind at all.
Bringing the vibrator back to her crotch, she began to work the head around in her juicy cunt, pushing it slowly up her hole. It hummed merrily away inside her, nicely rubbing her cunt to a froth. She gazed down, fascinated, watching as she pushed the long tool in and pulled it out. It came out glistening with cunt juice; her pussy clutched and clung to it; as she pushed it up her twat her hot love box squished juicily.
She began to tremble; her hot body was vibrating like the device, as if the impulse from the tool's batteries had been passed into her nerves.
She came within minutes, gasping and whimpering.
But her orgasm had not diminished her passion in the slightest. On the contrary, it felt so nice that it inspired her to a brand new desire even before the final spasms of her first climax had passed, the joy of coming feeding upon itself to arouse new lust in a vicious--or not so vicious--circle. The vibrator made her horny; being horny she wanted to come; coming felt so good that it made her horny all over again. It occurred to her that she might sit there using the vibrator all day but the thought was not unpleasant and it didn't even embarrass her--she could always blame her rare lust on the sexy clothing she wore, if she needed to shift the blame. But she didn't think she needed to do that and she thought that after this assignment was over she just might have to buy herself a vibrator.
She was wondering where she could hide a vibrator, so that Rick wouldn't find it when a second orgasm sneaked up on her. She found herself shivering with waves of delight.
"Golly," she gasped, amazed at her own body.
And she was still horny.
She pulled the cunt juice-coated tool out of her box and looked at the humming tip. She grinned wickedly, feeling more erotic than she had ever felt before. She held the tip to her mouth and licked it, tasting her own cunt juice.
Oh, this is terribly naughty, she thought.
But that didn't make it less attractive; in fact, she realized, thinking a thing was wicked only made it all the more thrilling.
She licked up and down the head and shaft and then pushed the tip into her mouth and sucked on it. She had never sucked a cock and she wondered if a real flesh and blood dick would vibrate that way in her mouth.
She would have to find out someday soon . . .
The tool glistened with saliva now and her tongue tingled with the spicy flavor of her own cum. She began to push the phallic instrument up her pussy again, changing positions now and fucking herself this way and that.
She lay on her back and raised her legs, kicking at the air as she fed plastic prick to her cunt.
She lay on her flank and shoved the tingling tool up her gash from the front, then from the back.
She worked the tip up her asshole a few inches while she rubbed her clitoris with her fingers.
She knelt on hands and knees and pushed the phony cock up her cunt from the back, then took her hand away, leaving the big rod up her hole. Her ass flew about and she humped away as if it were a real man pouring his cock to her doggy-fashion-pretending that it was a man, fantasizing, her mind every bit as hot and excited as her pussy.
First--for she was basically a faithful, one man woman--she pretended that it was Rick behind her.
But then her thoughts drifted. She thought about all the perversions that Connie Caruthers had questioned her about and started to imagine that it was a strange man fucking her from behind. She pulled the dick out, put it back in and pretended that it was a second man, that she was kneeling there taking one man right after the other in a gang bang. And loving it! She began to say, "Fuck me ... fuck my cunt ... you can all fuck me...." and her words were inspirational. She got so excited that she even found herself pretending that it was a dog fucking her dog-style and spilling his canine cream up her hole in bestial frenzy.
When she came this time she plucked the dick out and slapped it into her mouth, sucking on it and imagining it was a real cock shooting into her mouth. There was so much cunt juice on the stick that it was not hard to pretend that a man had just blown a load of cum into her mouth. She wondered if cum tasted like cunt juice? Her ass weaved and rippled as the spasms of orgasm ripped through her loins.
She grinned ruefully.
Oh, I'm so wicked, she thought, enjoying the feeling. Even the twinge of shame was pleasant and exciting.
I wonder if I have time to vibrate myself to another orgasm before my roommate shows up? she thought.
Because it was a private thing, of course--not the sort of thing one would do in company. Little did she know....
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bonny Wilson crossed her legs, top leg moving back and forth, and stared at Connie. Her posture was insolent. She was not happy. What would this old bag know about life, anyhow?
Bonny's mother had just brought her to the home. Leaving, she had been picked up by four of the lurkers at the gates, all of whom she sucked off, but Bonny didn't know about that. Bonny only knew she was in a home for wayward girls where her sex life was going to be very difficult or, horrible thought, non-existent.
But when Connie began to question her, Bonny got interested.
"Yeah," she said, in response to a question. "Sure I suck dick and things. But mainly I liked to get gang banged, you know? One guy ain't enough, usually. I like three or four guys to run a train through me. You know?"
"I know," said Connie.
"You do?" Bonny asked, surprised.
"Of course. I am a reformed nymphomaniac, myself."
"Well, I'll be damned!"
"I always preferred to suck cock, however."
Bonny gaped at the woman.
Connie said, "Well, Bonny, you certainly qualify as a wayward girl and we're very pleased to have you stay with us. I'll show you to your room and introduce you to your roommate in a few minutes. First ... have you brought your own dildo?"
"Gee, no. I ain't got one. I used to have a big sausage I used to fuck myself but my mom ate it by mistake. She won't let me have a dildo. I asked her to give me one for Christmas and she got all uptight about it."
"I see. Well, I can supply you with a dildo."
Connie ran through the formalities of explaining that it was house procedure and that a dildo was a useful tool in correcting the morals of a wanton girl. Bonny didn't want her morals corrected but she was interested in the dildo.
Connie opened a drawer and brought the object in question out. It was a huge rubber phallus, flesh-colored, with a bulging head and a thick stalk, about as hard as a tumescent cock. A leather harness was fitted to the hilt.
Bonny's eyes popped out as she gazed at this device.
"Will this suit you, my dear?"
"Yeah. It looks great. I can't wait to slap that big slab up my pussy. But what's the harness for?"
"Oh, that. It came that way. It's so that two girls can make love to each other."
"Golly," Bonny said, impressed.
Then she frowned. "But that ain't no good unless there's another woman to use it on."
"Perhaps your roommate ... ?"
"You think so at first impression," Connie admitted.
"I thought this home was supposed to cure me of fucking too much, instead of supplying me with a fucker."
"Yes. It's a fine point. Let me explain."
Yeah, you do that."
It would be a different matter if you were a lesbian, you see. Or if your roommate were. Then we would have to try to cure your lesbianism. But since you are quite obviously heterosexual, it's quite different. Using another girl to satisfy your carnal urges is a step on the road to reform, because if you can get what you need that way, you'll be less inclined to look for men." "I see," Bonny said. "I guess." "Yes, it's a delicate distinction." "Suppose my roommate don't wanna?" "That's possible. In that case you'll have to simply fuck yourself with this dildo, until we can find you a more compatible roommate."
"Hope she does," Bonny said. Bonny had never made love with another girl. The idea of being a lesbian appalled her. But now that Connie had explained the distinction, Bonny was starting to get very excited at the prospect.
"Do you know how to use it?" Connie asked. "Well, it looks simple enough. I guess you just shove it in and out of your cunt, huh?"
"Well, there are subtleties to doing it properly," Connie said. "I suppose you'll learn by trial and error. Or ... " She gazed steadily at the sexy little nymphet. "... or I could show you how."
"Okay," Bonny said, instantly.
"You won't be jealous of having me use it?"
"Naw. I ain't even jealous of my boyfriends, how could I be jealous of a dildo?"
"Some girls get very possessive about their rubber dicks."
"Not me."
"Fine. I'll demonstrate, in that case."
Connie came around the desk, dildo in hand, harness hanging down. She sat on the couch and pulled her dress up. She wore no panties and her cunt was a mass of fiery red hair with a creamy slit running through it like a swampy stream through a rain forest, Bonny was impressed. It was quite a pussy, she thought.
"First, I have to lubricate it," said Connie, and she pushed the bulbous head into her mouth and began to suck. Her eyes narrowed passionately. Saliva ran down the stick.
"You look just like my mom," Bonny said. "She's like you used to be ... rather suck cock than anything."
Connie pushed the dick in and out of her red lips until it was lubricated and slippery.
Then she placed the head against her cunt.
"Watch closely," she instructed.
Bonny was paying absolute attention to detail.
Connie slowly fed the big joystick up her cunt. It went in inch by inch and it went in all the way.
"Gee whiz! You got a cunt like a canyon," Bonny said, with obvious admiration.
Connie pulled the dildo out; pushed it up again. Her cunt lips parted and cunt juice ran in heavy banners down her crotch and into the crack of her ass.
"Oh, that feels so good," she murmured.
"It sure looks good."
"Now you try it, Bonny."
Bonny was eager to do just that. She jumped up and sat down on the couch next to Connie. Connie pulled the big dick out of her pussy and handed it to the girl. It was glistening all down its length with pussy cream.
Bonny fitted the tip to her cunt.
"Now, Bonny ... you've already forgotten the first step."
Bonny raised her eyebrows.
"You must always lubricate it in your mouth first."
"Yeah, but ... it's already lubricated from your cunt.
"Of course. It isn't necessary now. But the idea is to learn to do it correctly. Otherwise, if you don't make a habit of it, someday you might forget to lubricate it and just slam it up your sweet little pussy dry. A girl can get a terrible rubber burn that way, you know."
"Oh. Well ... it's okay to suck it while it's got cunt juice on it, huh? It ain't dykey or nothing?"
"Of course not. Since we're both heterosexual it can't very well by dykey."
Bonny could see that.
She pushed the blunt snout into her mouth and sucked.
"Gee, cunt juice tastes nice," she murmured.
Connie's eyes gleamed.
"Now fuck your honey pot, dear," she said.
Bonny brought the dick down to her cunt and began to work it up her hole. It was a tight fit. Her cunt had to spread and adjust to accommodate the fat stalk. She was more impressed than ever with the housemother's huge gash.
"Let me help you, Bonny," said that lusty woman, and she slid to her knees between Bonny's widespread thighs. Using the tips of her fingers, she spread Bonny's cunt lips open. She took the hilt of the dildo in her hand and began to inch it up the little wanton's pussy gently and steadily.
The rubber dick went in halfway and stuck fast.
"This is a problem," Connie said. "But the solution isn't hard to see. Although the dildo is nicely lubricated, your pussy isn't wet enough."
"Well, gee ... I can't lubricate my own cunt. I know, because I tried but my tongue fell short."
"Yes, you'd have to be an acrobat or a contortionist in order to suck your own box. I've tried, myself, and woefully failed. But I can do it for you."
Bonny looked a bit suspicious.
"Ain't that what lesbians do?" she asked.
"Oh yes. But they are lesbians, that's what makes it wrong. I'm not a lesbian, so it isn't a sin if I eat you out. Can you understand the difference?"
"If you say so," Bonny said, uncertainly. But she had no objections because she knew it felt awfully nice to have a boy's tongue lapping away at her pussy and she didn't see how it would be any less fun if the tongue happened to be attached to a woman--as long as that woman wasn't a lesbian, of course.
Connie smiled reassuringly and plucked the dildo out of the girl's snatch. She spread Bonny's legs wide open and lowered her head. Her tongue rippled up Bonny's wet slit.
"Oh! Gee, that's nice ..."
"Ummmm," Connie sighed, lapping merrily away.
"You like to do that?" Bonny asked the woman.
"Oh, I adore it. I love to suck cunt, my dear. It's a good thing I'm not a lesbian, isn't it? Because then I'd have to deny myself the pleasure."
"Yeah, I'm glad you ain't a dyke," Bonny agreed, and she began to wriggle her hips and pump her belly, working her cunt around in the redhead's busily slurping face.
Connie had been using only her tongue, at first, running it up the slot and then pushing it up the hole. Now she began to use her lips, as well, sucking greedily on the creamy cunt. She was holding the girl's pussy lips spread with her fingers so that she could delve as deeply as possible up that sweet hole. Her tongue slipped in like a playful porpoise while her lips steadily sucked the cunt juice out.
Bonny whimpered with joy.
Connie gurgled and moaned with the pleasure of eating pussy, rubbing her whole face around in the juicy box, pushing her tongue in and out, sucking rhythmically at the flooded fount.
Bonny began to vibrate.
The hot juice was pouring out of her now, in loops and coils, running onto Connie's tongue and back into her mouth. The redhead gulped it voraciously down and sucked for more. She was never happier than when she had a succulent pussy in her mouth--even the joys of cock sucking paled by comparison to muching muff. She worked with devotion and concentration, wanting to bring this sweet little trollop to the heights, to drag the orgasm from her tasty quim and, Bonny being Bonny, that culmination was rapidly coming.
"Ummm ... ahhh ... come, baby ... come for me ... let me drink your sweet joy juice...." The redhead spoke the words right up Bonny's cunt, as if it were a hairy microphone. The loving syllables echoed in the slippery tunnel.
"Oooooh, yes!" Bonny wailed.
Great rippling spasms rushed across her belly and her pussy began to cream, her hot cunt melting like butter in the cunt sucker's hungry maw.
A veritable river of cunt juice flooded onto Connie's curled tongue and rushed back from the headwaters deep in the girl's crotch to the delta of Connie's mouth. Connie opened her lips as wide as she could and clamped her whole mouth over the girl's creaming box, clinging like a barnacle as she sucked out all that delicious, creamy deluge, gulping it down and insatiably slurping out more than the magic fountain.
When she was sure she had drunk every precious drop, Connie reluctantly disengaged her mouth from the girl's pussy. Her lips popped off the hairy box like a rubber plunger unclogging a blocked drain. She used her nimble tongue to gather up a stream of cunt juice that had escaped her attentions and trickled down the girl's crotch into the crack of her ass. "Yummy," she said.
Then she remembered that, supposedly, this cunt sucking had not been an end in itself but a means to an end. Now that the girl's pussy had been well-lubricated, Connie took up the dildo and gently fed the whole big bogus cock up Bonny's snatch. She began to fuck the nymph slowly and steadily. Forgetting herself, she dropped her head again and started to suck the girl's clitoris while she rubber-dicked her hole.
Bonny came again, crying out aloud in the wonderful turmoil of her fiery sensations.
Pulling the dildo out, Connie fed it into her mouth and sucked the girl's cunt juice from it, then dropped her lips to the flooded gash and had another nice drink of the oily nectar, fresh and hot and bubbling from the cunt.
"Oh! I did enjoy that," she said.
"Thanks ever so much," said Bonny. "I sure hope my roommate ain't a lesbian, so I can do things like that with her. It looked like you were having so much fun down there ..." She hesitated, gazing at the lusty redhead with a thoughtful expression. "I was wondering ... if my roommate wants me to fuck her with the dildo, should I lubricate her cunt with my tongue, first?" Connie held her breath.
After a moment, she said, "It's advisable, yes."
"I kind of thought so. But, the thing is ... I've never sucked a cunt, you see. I don't know how to do it."
"It doesn't take much to learn."
"Yeah, I guess it's sort of natural, huh? But still ... don't you think maybe I ought to practice, first? I'd hate to do it wrong, clumsy or something ... do you think?"
"Would you like to practice on my cunt, dear?"
Bonny nodded.
"Certainly ... be my guest."
Bonny, tingling with a brand new sort of lust, slipped to her knees between the redhead's big thighs. She gazed, fascinated, at the fiery red bush and the creamy crack. Her tongue pushed out and lapped tentatively, then she began to run her tongue up that flooded hole with long slurps.
"Why ... it's fun!" she gasped, as her taste buds began to tingle with the succulence of pussy juice.
Connie reached down and grasped the hot little minx by the hair, pulling her face in tight and holding her clamped to her cunt. It was obvious that Bonny was not going to need instruction, for she knew instinctively just how to go about it, and soon she was sucking like an old hand at the game, drinking the redhead's pussy juice and stabbing her tongue far up the gaping cunt.
Connie, wailing, came in the girl's mouth.
"Did I do it right?" Bonny asked, eagerly.
"Just right," said Connie.
"Oh, good. I'm really glad that I'm not a lesbian," Bonny said, grinning impishly. "I'm glad you explained the difference, because now I can suck all the pussy I want."
Bonny was beginning to see enormous possibilities in living in a home for wayward girls....
CHAPTER EIGHT
Christine was standing in front of the mirror, legs widespread, watching her reflection in the glass as she vibrated her creamy cunt to a frenzy. She had never realized how nice it was to use a vibrator.
There were lots of things she didn't realize.
One of them was that the mirror in front of which she was gyrating with such abandon was one-way glass and on the other side of the wall, observing Christine the same way that she saw her image, stood the director of the home, John Watson, stroking his chin thoughtfully with one hand and stroking his big dick pleasurably with the other.
Christine pushed her loins out, thrusting, so that she could see her pussy in the mirror as she vibrated it. This provided Watson with the same view and he grinned. It was a splendid cunt, juicy and hot and sweet and it would be a welcome addition to the assorted cunts living at the home. This girl might well be a spy, as Connie Caruthers suspected, but Watson wasn't too worried about that. He had been a bit worried but everything was okay now. He had some leverage.
He had the cameras running and all of Christine's vibrating pleasure had been caught on film.
Watching as she slowly pushed the big joystick up her cunt, Watson wondered if it was too early to approach Christine for a fuck. He was hot as hell from his voyeuristic stimulation and he hadn't gotten his rocks off since the day before, when Connie had sucked him off in the office.
He dragged his hand away from his thundering dick.
The knob was smoking and throbbing but he wasn't about to waste that load of cum on the wall.
But he figured he had better give Christine a bit more time on her own before he approached her; he decided to see if Connie had finished with the other new girl.
He tucked his cock into his pants, with some difficulty, and went down to Connie's office, leaving the cameras running.
Connie hadn't finished with the new girl and that fact was perfectly evident the moment Watson looked in.
The big redhead was teaching Bonny how to use the dildo as a fucking device. It was a glorious sight. Bonny was perched on the edge of the desk, her legs spread wide and her back arched. Connie had the dildo strapped around her wide hips and she was fucking Bonny's cunt with resolute thrusts, driving the whole massive tool into the young girl's juicy cunt.
Watson grinned and his pecker rippled.
He advanced. Hearing him approach, Connie looked over her shoulder and winked. Bonny's eyes snapped open in surprise, however. Bonny thought they had been caught at something they were not supposed to be doing.
"The new girl is a lesbian, I see," said Watson.
"I am not!" Bonny cried.
"It certainly looks as if you are."
Watson opened his trousers and his pecker came rushing out furiously. Bonny blinked when she got a look at that massive slab of cockmeat. It was as big as the dildo, she thought, but better, since it was capable of squirting lovely hot cock juice up a girl's pussy. She would have loved to have it up her. But her cunt was already occupied.
Connie fucked away without a pause.
"If we were lesbians we couldn't do this," Bonny explained. "But it's okay, 'cause we're not."
"That's true," Connie said, grinding the rubber dong up the girl's pliable pussy.
Her big, firm ass switched and heaved and humped as she poured the prick to Bonny's cunt. Watson regarded Connie's ass. He had never fucked Connie in the asshole but he had a pretty shrewd idea that she would not object.
Stepping in behind her, he fitted the head of his pecker to her anal hole.
The redhead squirmed and sighed.
Watson placed his hands on the cheeks of her ass and spread them open; he began to work his cock up her asshole slowly, inch by inch. There was some resistance, but not much and he felt sure that her bowels were not virginal. The tight hole clutched at his dick, sucking him in, spreading sluggishly as the narrow tunnel adjusted to the breadth of his cock. He switched his hands to her hips, hauling her ass back onto his prong and with a sudden lurch the last few inches slipped in and he was buried to the root in her asshole.
He began to cornhole her, moving slowly at first and then with vigor as the resistance lessened and her asshole began to ripple up his stalk, sucking him in.
Connie had stopped fucking the girl while Watson worked his prick up her ass. Now she began to fuck again. They were working together, falling into the tempo with ease. Her big ass humped back as Watson fed the cock to her asshole, then as he withdrew, she plowed the dildo up Bonny's cunt.
Sandwiched between them, fucker and fuckee at the same time, Connie was in seventh heaven. She was whimpering and moaning and panting heavily; plowing rubber dick to the girl's juicy cunt, then flipping her pelvis back as Watson drove his cock up into her ass. Her pussy was overflowing. Cunt juice poured down her meaty thighs and soaked the floor beneath her.
Bonny was coming on the rubber cock, her pussy wringing the rod, her cunt lips slurping, cream pumped from her twat by the tight-fitting plunger.
She wished that the dildo could shoot up her cunt, for she relished having a hot spurt of jism fill her when she was coming, but even cumless, her orgasm was a delight. She shuddered and gasped. Looking over Connie's heaving shoulder, Watson saw the cunt juice bubble from the girl's quim and it inspired his own orgasm.
Grunting, he slammed his pecker into Connie's bowels and blew a great spurt of cum into her.
Connie wailed with joy when she felt her asshole fill with steaming cum and she rocked back and forth furiously, milking his dick and pumping out cunt juice from Bonny.
Watson stepped back. His big cock pulled out of the redhead's asshole, hesitated for a moment, as if wondering if it should go limp, then snapped back up into a new erection.
Connie dragged the rubber dick out of the girl's pussy and, as if the tool were emulating its flesh and blood counterpart, it too snapped upright.
Bonny thought it was very erotic to see that big-titted redhead with a huge cock sprouting from her loins. But at the moment the girl was more interested in Watson's real pecker and she eyed it with obvious fascination.
"Are you sure this girl isn't a lesbian?" he asked.
"Quite sure," Connie assured him. "Lesbians don't enjoy it as much as she does."
"Well, I'm not so sure," he said. He thought for a moment. "I think I'd better make sure she's heterosexual," he said.
"What a good idea!" Bonny cried.
Connie stepped aside, her rubber dick bouncing, and Watson stepped up to the young girl's cunt. She arched, angling her cunt for his thrust.
"Wait," Connie said. "You can't put your cock up her cunt after it's been up my asshole. That's indelicate, John. It has to be cleaned first."
"Quite so," he agreed. "Would you be so kind?"
"Certainly," she said.
Bending down, she took his peckerhead into her mouth and sucked on it, cleaning it thoroughly. She used her tongue to lave the shaft and balls until they sparkled. Leaning back, she inspected it, nodding when she was satisfied that she had sucked it clean.
"That's better," she said, grinning. "We have certain standards to maintain here, after all."
Watson moved in again. Bonny heaved her ass up. He fitted his cockhead to her gash and pushed. Her cunt, already adjusted to the massive dimensions of the dildo, sucked his prick in to the hilt.
She squealed with joy. "Definitely not a dyke," he said. Bonny had a horrible idea that, now that he had proved her true sexual inclinations, he might stop. She said, "You can't really tell if a girl likes men unless you come in her."
"Just so," he agreed, and he commenced to put the cock to her vigorously. His thick cock stuffed her cunt lips right up her hole as he plowed in and almost dragged her inside-out when he pulled back. Her lithe loins shimmered on his stick, her ass bumped on the desk, her thighs rippled as she kicked at the air, then drummed her heels against his ass.
Observation of this meatpacking made Connie hungry again.
Kneeling behind Watson, she began to lick up the crack of his ass, then pushed her nimble tongue up his asshole, rimming him with gusto. She licked his balls, returned to his ass, went back down and sucked on his bloated cum sac. These little nibbles only made her all the more ravenous, for she was a woman with a healthy appetite. She turned around and bridged backwards, between his legs. She began to tongue his stalk as it went in and out of the nymphet's cunt, lapping the cunt juice up from his cock. Her tongue darted out, stealing a quick lick of pussy here, a taste of dick there, a furtive tongueful of balls on the down sweep, a flick at Bonny's asshole on the come-back. She was crawling around beneath them, sucking and licking indiscriminately.
Then she tilted her head back and parted her lips so that Watson's big prick could pass through her mouth as it pushed in and out of the wayward girl's cunt.
Thrilled by the double delight of mouth and cunt, Watson began to thunder up the girl's hole with ferocity. He was pouring his cock to her with relish and Bonny met with equal abandon, her hips grinding, her belly pumping, her cunt milking his dick. This was the biggest cock she had ever been stuffed with and she was transported by joy. Such was her passion that, even while he was still fucking her, she began to wonder when he would want to fuck her again. When would Connie feel she needed further instruction in the sexual art of dildo fucking and cunt sucking? Would her roommate prove as amenable to the joys of non-lesbianism as she hoped? These future considerations flitted through her mind, then faded away as she began to come.
"I'm coming!" she wailed. "Come with me, come in me, fill my pussy with hot cum!"
The director banged the cock to her hard and fast. He was so hot that his pecker hissed up her slimy cunt like a heated crowbar dipped in a blacksmith's tub. Despite the heavy load he'd spilled up the redhead's asshole, he was already building towards a new ejaculation, his balls starting to swell with the load.
Bonny tossed her head from side to side. She was so full of big dick that, looking down, she half expected to see the outline of his pecker pressed up in a furrow along her belly. She saw his cock pull out, running between Connie's parted lips, then plunge back up her hot cunt. She was creaming steadily and the silvery cunt juice poured down her thighs and soaked the crack of her ass.
Howling, Watson poured his cum up her cunt.
When she felt that hot load splash in her loins, Bonny cried out with joy and her own orgasm, long and wavering, came to a crest. She heaved against him, taking his cock in her pussy to the hilt, and her cunt melted around it like a wax candle around a stiff wick. He poured the slime to her in four or five separate spurts, hitting her womb with the jets and hosing her pussy with foam.
He staggered back.
His dick pulled out of her cunt.
Connie slipped her mouth over the head and sucked, relishing this drink on a stick, slurping Bonny's pussy juice from him. Then she turned her face to Bonny and clamped her mouth around the girl's cunt like a suction cup.
Nothing on earth was more agreeable to Connie Caruthers than a cunt full of cum. She had never decided which she preferred to suck, cunt or cock, but in this instance she was getting the best of both at once and she joyfully sucked Watson's cum out of the girl's creamy gash, the flavors of cum and cunt juice blending into a savory delicacy that brought her to ecstasy.
Her own cunt, unattended, came of its own accord as she merrily gobbled up the double delight.
Thus did Bonny Wilson come to the home for wayward girls, and found it to her taste....
* * *
After showing Bonny to her room, Connie came back to the office.
"What do you think of Miss Fairly?" she asked Watson.
"Oh, no doubt she's a spy, but we have a film."
She lifted her eyebrows.
"Already?"
"She's a randy little bitch, no doubt of that. As soon as you left her alone she began to vibrate her pussy to a frenzy. Right in front of the mirror. And the camera."
"No wonder you were so horny," the redhead said.
"I'd like to fuck Miss Fairly later," he said. "But first I think we'll let her get acquainted with her new roommate."
"The camera, I assume, is still activated?"
"Of course."
They smiled wisely at one another, very pleased with the two new additions to their household.
CHAPTER NINE
Christine was still vibrating her pussy when she heard them come down the hall. She quickly switched the humming device off and pulled it out of her cunt. But then she couldn't think where to hide it. She didn't know which dresser drawer was hers and she couldn't leave it in plain sight because it was coated with cunt juice and there was no time to wash it or suck it clean. This was a problem for such a modest girl. She stuck it back under her skirt and stuffed it up her pussy again. She grinned.
There was no way that anyone was going to find it there, she thought.
But of course she was wrong.
She sat on the bed.
It felt quite nice to have her cunt stuffed with vibrator, even when it wasn't activated.
Bonny came bouncing in.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Bonny. I'm very wayward."
"I can see that," Christine said. "I'm Christine."
"Nice place, huh?"
"Well ... I suppose so."
"I took the dildo. What did you take?"
Christine was taken aback for a moment. But then she remembered that this was, after all, a home for wayward girls and she had to expect her roommate to be casual about such things.
"I took the vibrator."
"Oh, good. Maybe we can swap sometime, huh?" "I ... guess so."
"Where is it?" Bonny was looking around. "Let me have a look at your vibrator and I'll show you my dildo."
"I ... errr ... I seem to have misplaced it." "That so? Here's the dildo."
Christine gasped when she saw it, for it was obvious what the leather harness was for. She wondered if her roommate were a lesbian. What on earth would she do if the girl made unseemly advances?
Bonny was wandering around, looking here and there for the vibrator. Christine saw there might be difficulties.
"Maybe you forgot about it and left it up your cunt, huh?" Bonny asked. "That's pretty easy to do, I bet."
"Certainly not!" Christine said.
"Why don't you take a look, though, just to make sure?"
"It isn't up my cunt!" Christine wailed in desperation.
"Let me have a look," said Bonny and, before Christine could react, the wayward girl lifted her leather skirt.
"Sure enough, there it is," she said.
"Oh dear," Christine gulped.
Bonny reached down and switched the vibrator on. The moment it started to hum up Christine's cunt, the girl reporter started to get horny.
She didn't know what to do. Somehow, pulling it out at this stage seemed worse than leaving it where it was. It was, at least, hidden from sight.
But her cunt wasn't and Bonny was staring at it.
"Nice cunt," she said.
"Errrr ... thank you."
"Ever have it sucked?"
Christine was speechless.
"I'll suck it for you, if you like. When you feel horny, I mean. And I can fuck you with my dildo, too."
"I'm not a lesbian!"
"Well, gee ... neither am I," said Bonny, offended. "But we got to help each other avoid men, right?"
Christine babbled in confusion.
"Want to see my cunt?" Bonny asked and, without waiting for Christine to reply, she took her skirt off. She put one foot on the bed and pushed her belly out. Christine gaped at the girl's juicy slash. It was obvious that her cunt had recently received the attentions of a cock. The labia were parted and streaked with cum and her lean thighs glistened with cunt juice.
Despite herself, Christine began to wonder what it would be like to eat a pussy.
Bonny let her have a long look, then reached down and grasped the handle of the vibrator. She pushed it in and out of the reporter's cunt a few times, giggling as it made a squishing sound. Then she drew it out and held it up to her face, watching the tip vibrate. Her tongue came out and she licked the dripping knob.
"Ummm, yummy," she said. "I hope you get horny real soon. I just learned how to eat out a pussy, you know."
"I didn't know that."
"Yeah. It's real nice. Super. So any time you need to get sucked off, just let me know, okay?" "Errr ... yes."
Christine, actually, would have very much liked to get sucked off right then, for her vibratory pleasures had not been an end in themselves and masturbating had only made her horny for cock or tongue. But she didn't say anything about it. She was dazed and bewildered. She had never met a girl like Bonny before.
"Mind if I use this?" Bonny asked.
Christine shook her head.
Bonny fitted the buzzing tip to her clitoris and shivered as it caressed her.
A wave of lust swept through Christine as she watched her roommate vibrate her cunt. She was amazed at herself. The role she was playing, the mood of this place, her previous masturbation and the overt sexuality of her roommate combined to form a mood of depravity in which anything seemed possible.
She heard herself speaking as if it were a third person, or as if her mind had left her body and was watching and listening from somewhere near the ceiling.
She said, "If you really want to suck me off ... " Bonny grinned.
"You ... won't tell anyone, will you?" "You shy or something?" Christine nodded.
"Okay, we'll keep it a secret," Bonny agreed.
But there were no records in that room and, behind the wall, the camera continued to roll.
Connie and Watson, looking through the one-way mirror, smiled and winked at each other when they saw Bonny start to go down on Christine.
"I can't wait to get some of that pussy, myself," the busty redhead said, envious of Bonny who was slurping away with obvious pleasure as she ate Christine's tasty cunt.
"I think we have enough evidence against her, now, so that we needn't worry about her blowing the whistle," Watson said. "I think I'll fuck her now."
"You'd better let Bonny finish first. She seems to be having so much fun."
Bonny was wallowing like a dolphin in Christine's juicy cunt, and Christine was shivering as if she were being electrified. She wrapped her thighs around Bonny's head and rocked back and forth, bending and bowing.
Observing this was very stimulating to Watson and Connie, who were both dirty-minded people. Her cunt was steaming and his pecker was smoking. He waited impatiently until Christine started to come in Bonny's voracious mouth. Then he winked at the redhead, said, "Wait until I screw her ... we'd better capture that on film ... then you may join us for a giant cluster fuck."
"Ooooh, I can't wait!" the lusty housemother squealed.
Watson took his cock out and, with that formidable fucker leading the way, marching to the next room.
Bonny looked up with dreamy eyes and creamy lips, raising her eyebrows in query.
Christine smiled and said, "Oh, yes! That was lovely."
"Want to do me, now?"
"I don't ... I never ..." A slight frown flickered across the girl reporter's brow. She was disturbed at her own feelings, for, she had to admit, the idea of sucking this wayward girl's cunt was not at all unappealing. Basically innocent and inexperienced, Christine found herself suddenly thrust into a mood of total sexual abandon, in which no depravity seemed too wicked. She was uncertain and nervous but she knew that she definitely wanted to do all these naughty things. Her conscience sought justification, she tried to rationalize; she thought: It isn't as if I was doing it in my real life. That's the point. I'm here on a mission as a reporter and if I behave normally--that is, if I am chaste--everyone will realize that I am not truly a wanton girl and they'll get suspicious--and I won't get my story. So I guess I'll have to sacrifice my body in order to further my career. As long as I think of it in that way, I don't have to be ashamed of what I do while I'm here and, after all, nobody--like Rick, say--will ever have to know about the things I have to do . . .
She smiled and the frown vanished.
Now that she had reasoned it out, she could suck Bonny off without any moral qualms.
But she did feel it was necessary to explain that she was not really inclined towards lesbianism.
She pushed Bonny down on the bed and parted her thighs. She bent over her but then, before making contact, she looked up the nubile girl's arched body and said, "I'll eat you out, but I want you to understand that I really prefer cock ..."
"And cock you shall have!" said John Watson, as he came in the door with his pecker sticking out.
Christine's head snapped up, and when she saw the size of Watson's prick her eyes bulged out. A surge of passion ripped through her body. She wanted that cock! And-as long as she was playing the role of a wanton-she could have it with impunity.
"Don't let me interrupt," he said. "I'll just slip it to you from behind, you can carry on at that end."
"That's a good idea," Bonny agreed.
She reached down, grasped Christine's head and pulled the girl's face into her bubbling cunt. Christine began to suck and tongue instantly. She discovered, as Bonny had a short time before, that cunt sucking comes naturally to a girl and that, despite her lack of experience and practice, she knew just how to go about it. Her tongue coiled about and her lips slurped. Cunt juice bubbled into her mouth, thrilling her. But even as she thrilled to the joy of eating pussy, she yearned for the big pecker that was looming up behind her, casting a long shadow across her trim ass and throwing another shadow across her fiery imagination.
She drew her knees up under her, so that her ass was thrust up at the highest point of a triangle with her head at the apex, gobbling merrily away on Bonny's juicy snatch.
Watson fitted his swollen cockhead to Christine's cunt from behind. He stirred the knob around in her slippery gash, preparing the way, then slammed the whole huge slab up her hole.
Christine gurgled with delight, the sound reverberating up Bonny's cunt.
Watson pulled back. This was a tight pussy he was in and as he tried to pull out, so fully did his massive cock fill her hole, her pelvis was dragged back along with his dick. The fit was too snug to fuck properly. But the horny fellow knew how to deal with tight cunts, even though they were rare in a home for wayward girls, and he grasped Christine by the hipbones and began to push and pull her loins back and forth. Her cunt rippled, adjusting to the size of his cock, and then began to slide easily up and down with slippery friction.
He was holding his cock absolutely steady and pulling the girl's pussy onto it like a sleeve, as if masturbating himself with her cunt. But then they were sliding together fluidly and he began to fuck into her, corkscrewing his hips and driving the great wedge-headed slab up her twat with a force that caused her haunches to bounce up and down.
She began to grind her ass from side to side, humping with the man, working her cunt around on his big cock like a nut winding up a bolt.
Bonny was coming in her mouth.
Christine voraciously gobbled up the cunt juice.
Then Watson squirted a hot stream of cum up her cunt and, feeling herself filled with joy juice at both ends, Christine went wild as her own orgasm tore through her belly. Her tongue was tingling as pleasantly as her clitoris. It felt as if her mouth were coming just as her pussy was.
Watson drew back, his dick slipping free, still hard.
Christine's ass continued to heave about. She wanted him to fuck her again. But he had other ideas and waited while she milked out the terminal spasms of lust and cunt cream from Bonny's melting love box.
Christine, finding Bonny drained, raised her head.
Watson pushed his cock into her face.
Christine, who had never sucked a cock, stared in fascination at the big purple wedge of his peckerhead. She had always supposed that it would be Rick who took her oral virginity and she hesitated for a moment, feeling it would be disloyal to her boyfriend to give head to another man. But then she remembered that it wasn't Christine Fairmont, girl reporter, who would be sucking that adorable prick--it was Christine Fairly, wayward girl, of whom such things were to be expected.
She kissed the head of his dick.
Her lips parted slowly around it. It was just like French kissing, she thought; just like letting a man slip his tongue into her mouth. Her lips parted millimeter by millimeter, creeping down over the tip of his cockhead, pursed and compressed. He held steady, letting her set the pace, not trying to fuck into her mouth. Her red lips slid down his purple peckerhead until she had the whole meaty wedge in her mouth, then her lips closed in a tight collar around the stalk.
She took a tentative suck, her cheeks hollowing in.
Oh my yes! Cock was delicious!
She fluttered her tongue against the underside of the knob and her taste buds were electrified by the succulent flavor.
She pushed the tip into her cheek, causing it to bulge out on one side while the other cheek drew in, sucking. She nibbled softly on the stalk and slid her tongue all around the head.
Watson could tell that she was a novice at the art of cock sucking and he let her experiment, not moving at all but merely holding his cock rigid in her face. Her head began to rise and fall.
Her lips slid up and down his stalk and she fed herself on his prick, taking the knob far back into the entrance of her throat as she gulped as much cock as she could. While her lips pulled up and down, her tongue merrily danced a pattern of curls and coils against the veined underside of his stalk and the bottom surface of his tasty cockhead.
She fell into a steady rhythm, her head ducking down and then slowly sucking up, eager to bring him to an orgasm so that she could enjoy her first ever drink of cum.
Bonny, watching this cock sucking, got excited.
She strapped the big rubber prick around her slender loins and stuffed it up Christine's cunt from behind. She began fucking the reporter with gusto, pumping out a fine mist of pussy juice as the fat rubber dick pushed into the tight hole.
The vibrator lay neglected on the bed.
Bonny snatched it up and began to push the buzzing tip up Christine's asshole.
Pleasured at all three carnal terminals, Christine was transported to a state of rare ecstasy.
Watson began to move then, pushing his cock into her head. She gurgled and gagged but kept on sucking voraciously. She held his balls in one hand and grasped the root of his dick in the other, frigging through a few inches so that her lips, pushing down, made contact with her fist, coming up. As her fist pushed down, skinning his cock into a taut, vibrating bar of iron, her mouth dragged up that bar and poised on the knob, fluttering and slurping.
He hissed something. She didn't hear the words but she knew the significance--he was going to shoot in her mouth! She gasped in expectation, sucking hard.
His cockhead billowed in a creamy explosion.
Her mouth was filled with a cloud of cum and she whimpered with delight and gulped it down.
He blew a second heavy jet into her throat, then poured a third onto her nimble tongue. Her mouth was filled to overflowing, full of cockmeat with cum oozing around it and she swallowed and sucked, swallowed and sucked, getting every succulent drop out of his balls and drinking it all with joy.
He stepped back, his spent dick pulling from her reluctant lips. She moaned, wishing that she could suck him off all over again-wishing some other horny man would join them and slip some dick into her greedy mouth. She had acquired the taste for cock and cum and she wanted to make a glutton of herself. Then Connie came in.
Connie was burning with lust from having observed this three-way coupling and she came in with the reel of film, thinking to use it as blackmail, just in case the girl was not amenable to doing some more sucking.
But Christine was perfectly willing to suck some more cunt now that she had emptied the only available dick. She licked her lips as Connie approached. Connie straddled her face, sitting on her head and grinding her big ass just over her upthrust tits while Christine proceeded to suck her off and tongue fuck her with great gasps of pleasure. Connie, overheated, came in seconds. Christine gobbled her cunt juice with whimpers of delight. Then Christine came on the rubber dick.
Bonny, unable to come via the rubber dildo, moved up and took her perch atop Christine's head, getting her pussy sucked off in turn, while Connie plucked the vibrator out of Christine's ass and used it on her cunt, to good effect.
This lesbian tableau hardened Watson's pecker once more and he began to shift from woman to woman, thrusting his prick up a cunt here, into a mouth there, up an asshole as it rolled into position.
He finished up by fucking Christine.
Bonny and Connie were watching, sitting side by side and fingering each other's pussies a bit, just for the hell of it.
"What's the film for?" Bonny asked.
"Dirty movies taken right here at the home," Connie explained. "We can have a look at them later."
"Oh good," said Bonny.
And Christine, overhearing this, realized that the film was exactly the evidence she needed!
Then Watson hosed her cunt with cum and she melted in a torrent of cunt juice around his meaty cock.
* * *
They had fallen into a stupor in the aftermath of such sexual frenzy. Bonny was sleeping with Watson's cock in her mouth and the redheaded housemother was sleeping with her mouth on Bonny's juicy snatch and Christine was slumped astride Watson's head. But Christine did not allow herself to sleep.
It was time to revert to her proper role.
She gave her crotch one final rub around on Watson's face, then reluctantly got up and quietly dressed.
Taking the reel of film, she tiptoed out.
It was too late to go to the newspaper office now, but she knew that Rick had a projector. She decided to have Rick view the film, to make sure it was what it was supposed to be and that it was sufficient evidence of the depravity that existed at the home for wayward girls.
As to her own depravity, she was of two minds.
She had enjoyed it so much that she was wondering how she might continue to eat pussy and suck cock now that she was once again the chaste and proper girl reporter. It didn't seem possible. Even with her boyfriend, Rick, she would never have the nerve to suggest that they vary their sex life.
She sighed, thinking that her sex life would once again be uninteresting-much more so, now that she had known the thrill of infinite variation.
Rick was pleased to see her.
She explained. "I believe this film contains evidence of some of the terrible, wicked things that go on at the home," she told him. "I don't want to have to look at it, myself, darling, since I am not that sort of girl. Would you run it on your screen and let me know if it's as wicked as I suspect?"
"Okay," he agreed.
"I'll wait out here," she said, hoping that the dirty film might inspire Rick to a super-fuck.
Rick took the film into the projection room. Christine waited, looking innocent and demure. She heard the projector hum. After what seemed a long time, Rick came back into the room.
There was a lump in his pants and a very strange expression on his face.
"Was it truly dirty?" she asked.
"Filthy," he said.
"Then I can use it to substantiate my expose ..."
"I don't think you'll want to do that, Christine."
"Why ever not?"
"I think there's something you don't realize ..."
"Oh, I do realize that girls do filthy things," she said. "Wayward girls, that is. I don't want to have to look at such a film, myself, being pure and wholesome, but ..."
Rick grinned.
And then, to her amazement, he whipped his cock out and stuffed it into her mouth without further ado.
Christine, not understanding what had happened to her boyfriend, but not minding at all, sucked him off with pleasure.
Afterwards, with his cum glistening on her lips, he told her who had starred in the film.
Christine never did get to write the article.
But she and Rick watched the film together, many times....
