Patsy Devlin held her breath. It seemed like years. The hard polished wood of Mr. Swanson's desk felt cold and cruel to her naked breasts, stomach and thighs. Her buttocks were arched high in the air, waiting for his attention.
Then she felt his fingers drifting easily over her naked ass cheeks. He squeezed first one, then the other, and then he probed her ass-hole.
But that's not why she was there, and the both of them knew it.
Soon, he picked up the paddle, and then, as she held her breath, he raised his arm high in the air.
Was it worth it, she wondered? Was it worth it to endure this type of treatment just so she could get the answers to the test?
Yes. Because then Sot Madden would leave her and Johnny alone. And she could do whatever she wanted with him. She, Johnny, and her mother!
But first, she had to submit to this whipping ... from his father!
CHAPTER ONE
Patsy Devlin flipped through her stack of records. Something extraordinary was called for, but she couldn't make up her mind.
It would have to be something hard, with an edge to it.
Perhaps the new "SLEDGEHAMMER" album. She loved them, particularly the lead singer, Zitly Gutface.
Ever since he'd been let out of prison, he seemed to have found new depths of creative anarchy. There was some confusion at their last concert, which had resulted in the band being banned for all time from the state of Florida. Zitly, of course denied that they had actually slashed the pig's throat (on stage, anyway, he owned up to having "stuck the swine' before the show, you understand), but the horror and revulsion that had ripped through the northern part of the state (a well known pig center for the entire nation) had been enough to cause several laws to be passed in the legislature down in Tallahassee, the State Capital.
Well, impressive creativity or not, Patsy was not quite in the mood for Zitly or "SLEDGEHAMMER". No, she was more in the mood for ... that's what it would be! "SLUTBOY SLIME, AND THE MUCOUS MEMBRANES". Of course. This called for a truly raw edge, and only Slutboy Slime could provide it.
She brushed a pink, gold, green and metallic blue strand of hair out of her eyes and placed the plastic disc on the turntable.
In the next room, Johnny Swanson waited, not yet quite aware of exactly what he was in for.
When Patsy invited him over, (and made a point of telling him that her mother would not, repeat, NOT, be home), she'd naturally assumed that he'd gotten the message.
So far, however, he'd confined his conversation to the unblemished record of the Mutant High football team, the renowned Deviants, of which he was the quarterback.
Why, it occurred to some to ask later, when they heard the tale, did Patsy Devlin even want to be in the same room with Johnny Swanson ... to say nothing of her own living room?
Rumor had it the boy still went to church.
Can you believe that shit? CHURCH?
Well, the truth was, Patsy's one and only, one fine gentleman who went by the name of Sot Madden, was flunking history. If he flunked history, that was it.
They'd just throw him out of school, and he didn't want that because the draft was gearing up and that meant he'd have to go in the army, which wouldn't agree with him at all.
Johnny Swanson's father taught history. Patsy needed to get the answers to the history final exam (which Sot had been told would determine whether or not-he'd pass).
Are things becoming clear?
She wasn't too happy about the situation, but, to be honest, neither was Johnny when you got right down to it.
He was, actually, quite uncomfortable, and didn't really know what he'd do about the situation.
His reason for being there was Patsy's younger sister, who Patsy had promised him would be there.
Things get a little complicated, but when you realize that everyone just wanted to get laid, it gets a little easier to understand. For one thing, Johnny Swanson, while not in the same league as Zitly Gutface or Slutboy Slime, was without a doubt an ass-hole in his own right. He was just more along the old cut-and-dried lines of the typical high-school, fuck-'em-and-leave-'em-to-walk-home type of jock.
Things were, as they say, brewing.
Patsy walked back into the living room as the first rancid chords poured off of Slutboy's guitar.
"Hey, that's pretty heavy," said Johnny, "but don't you have any Beatles or Stones?"
"Oh wow, like maybe you'd prefer Frank Sinatra or Tommy Dorsey or maybe Dizzy Dean."
"You mean Gillespie."
"Oh. All right. Have it your way. Gillespie Dean, or whatever the fuck you want to call him."
Johnny looked a little perturbed.
"Um, look, I kind of thought that you said your sister was going to be here."
Patsy hopped up onto her knees and put her arms around his neck.
"Yeah, well, I guess I lied to you."
Jimmy looked at her.
"Oh yeah?"
"Urn hmmm."
He looked a little puzzled. Then, (to Patsy's immense relief) he seemed to actually notice that she'd unbuttoned a few of the buttons on her blouse while she'd gone in to put on a record.
He was actually staring right down into her cleavage ... looking at first just a little confused, and then, as the light dawned over the vast empty space between his ears, a faint grin twitched at the corners of his mouth.
"Why'd you tell me your sister would be here when she isn't here?"
Patsy, by way of reply, stared at him with an 'Oh-come-on,-dumb-ass' look.
He finally got the message.
That's when it dawned on her.
The guy's a virgin, she told herself.
Suddenly, it all made sense. He'd never expected her sister to be here. She'd already let him know that she thought he was a stupid turd and that he should throw himself in front of the nearest fast moving vehicle. He'd known all along what was in store, and why he'd been invited.
Well, maybe he didn't understand all about Sot. She didn't want to give him too much credit, after all. But he'd known that spread legs and a stiff cock were what was on the menu.
She looked at him with renewed interest, as if noticing him for the very first time.
"Hey, haven't you ever been laid before?"
He turned crimson. Then he turned scarlet.
Then he turned blue.
"Hey," Patsy cautioned, "don't go swallowing your tongue over it, for Christ's sake. I just asked. It's all right. I mean if you're a virgin and all. I mean, face it, everyone has to get their cherry broke one time or another, and until you do, you're a virgin, right?"
"Um, uh ... " stammered Johnny, looking like he had to take a real bad leak.
Patsy, it should be pointed out, was not what you would call, a lady of grace, taste or class. She'd come to be known, among the faculty of Mutant High School as 'that little bitch'.
She'd just moved there from Los Angeles, and her initial dismay at finding the local punk scene lagging far behind what it had evolved to in LA, was only slightly greater that the local dismay at the fact that it had finally arrived.
Multon, Florida, a piece of dirt stuck along the banks of the Blackwater river about the same as a piece of shit sticks to your shoe.
That's how Patsy had described it to her friends in a letter.
Sot Madden was the closest thing she could find to a true punker, and even he fell far short of the bill. What he had going for him, however, was a limited vocabulary, analytic skills and logical faculties that were even more limited, and a tendency to show up stewed to the max on one combination of drugs or another.
"Hey man, you ever done up any luudes, huh man?" Patsy's asked him when she first got to town.
To her relief, drugs had preceded her arrival by several years, and while the social evolution of the local youth was no where near that of LA's scene, there were enough drugs to blunt the effects of living in a town with roughly the same population as your last high school.
Of course, there were times when she wanted to slit her wrists.
And then, there were little challenges like this one, trying to seduce the quarterback of the Deviants.
Christ! She was having to force herself on the lunk!
"What's the matter," she asked, looking openly annoyed, "are you used to chicks who'll give you a quick feel and then pull your hand out of their clothes?"
Johnny obviously had never encountered a woman who knew what she was doing.
He'd simply stepped all over himself each time he tried to respond to anything he said.
Patsy finally gave up with the conversational approach and decided to take a more basic, tactile approach.
She quickly unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, and threw it aside. Her breasts, nicely developed for a girl her age, swung gently back and forth.
Johnny's lower jaw hit the floor.
"Johnny, you look retarded. Look, will you say something that proves you're still alive? Come on, give a girl a break. I'm doing everything I can short of raping you, and you're just staring like you were made out of papier-m�ch' or something. What gives?"
He shook his head.
It seemed to wake him up somewhat, because he was actually able to speak to her again, but she was still confused.
"Urn ... " he began, not too promisingly, "Look, no offense or anything, but I'm not used to this sort of thing...."
"Well that's obvious. like I said, you're probably a virgin, right? Look it's all right. Just because you're the captain of the football team and you've probably been telling everyone on the team that you're getting it from Mary Ellen Rogers, don't let that get you down. Believe me, it's no sin not to get it from Mary Ellen Rogers. No one really thinks she has a cunt anyway. Now take it from me, I don't know what ideas you have about sex, but I can promise you, they're all wrong. The more I think about it, the harder it is for me to see you having any kind of correct idea about sex. That's all right. You've been practicing on a girl without a cunt. And, I might add, bazooms that don't come close to these."
Patsy gave her breasts a shake to make her point. She knew she was on safe ground here. Every girl in school knew that Mary Ellen Rogers, captain of the cheerleading squad, wore supporter bras to give her breasts a heftier cleavage.
Johnny said nothing to dispute her. That's when she knew she had him.
Of course, she still had to reel him in, and someone like Johnny would be prone to bolt unexpectedly ... no, she'd have to try to remember what it was like to really have to seduce a boy. It had been a long time. The crowd she ran with in LA didn't put a whole lot of ritual behind it. You felt like it, you fucked. It made life simpler.
She leaned forward, still kneeling. Her breasts came to just about eye-level on him. She began to wave her nipples in his face as she talked to him.
"I don't know what you're afraid of ... really I don't. I'm just a girl. You've probably heard all kinds of lies and falsehoods about me, but none of them are true. I'm just a normal healthy high-school youth, looking to get laid."
She let her nipples tickle his nose.
He shook his head, but she could see that she was getting to him. It was pretty hard to think of a girl as a slut when she was dangling the guy like a puppet from whatever strings she wanted to tie around him ... even around his cock, if she chose.
Patsy knew that's what his tactic would be, just to try and keep some kind of psychological edge ... he'd tell himself that she was a slut.
With someone like Mary Ellen Rogers, there was no need for an edge, because everyone had their roles worked out perfectly in advance.
There was never any question about who did what, why or when, because it was taken for granted. He kept trying, she kept turning him down. If they made it through high school like that, well then, maybe, just maybe, that summer before one or both of them went away to college ... well then ... maybe.
JESUS!! ! Did people still live like that? Multon was like going back in time twenty or thirty years. Before the sexual revolution, and the student revolution, and Vietnam and everything else made people aware that everything was a lie, and everyone was out to fuck you over, and that the only thing you could try to do was to fuck them back in whatever way you could before they really put your lights out.
That was the guiding philosophy of her life, and of everyone that she'd run with back in LA.
For all practical purposes, the battle had been fought and lost. The bad guys won, and Armaggedon was just around the corner. There was nothing left for anyone to do but to try and deface your own little plot of turf, in a pitiful gesture of defiance.
Johnny here, of course, didn't know any of this. He thought there was still a point.
Yeah, sure there was, right on top of his head. But, who was she to break the news to him. The poor bastard would find out about that soon enough anyway.
He task, was to get her hands inside his pants, get his hands inside her pants, and than get both pairs of pants off, without scaring him. Sort of like trying to sneak up on a herd of deer with a marching band.
But, there were those deliciously plump, rippling, wanton breasts of hers, and unless she was totally mistaken, they were actually beginning to have an effect on him.
Yep. Right down there between his legs, she could see the first prominent outlines of his cock starting to really press tightly against his polyester double-knit slacks that he'd worn over (GOD, what was he thinking?)
Oh, that's right. He'd been thinking that he'd have a chance to impress Suzie, her sister.
Fat chance. Suzie had never dyed her hair, and she DID like the Beatles and did NOT like Slutboy Slime, but she was more of a radical than Patsy was. She was ready to blow the whole fucking place apart, purely as a matter of principle, you understand.
She thought that people like Johnny would be the first ones against the wall when the revolution came.
"Suzie," Patsy would explain, "the revolution already happened. They lost., You and I are the debris."
But Suzie wouldn't listen. Once, they'd been identical twins. Suzie still wore the long golden locks that Patsy had long ago turned into a fractured rainbow.
Johnny was on the verge of giving up. Good thing, thought Patsy, because she was actually starting to work up a little bit of a sweat between her legs over the bastard. After all, he was a guy, and he did have a cock, and if you were horny, and a girl, and you weren't too particular, well, that meant that Johnny met all the specifications.
She decided to take matters into her own hands.
First, she took each of his hands and placed them over her breasts. Just in case he hadn't been sure what to do with them.
Then, she unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock.
And ... hey, hey, hey, she thought merrily to herself, what have we here.
Well, what it was, was a fucking salami roll, that's what it was. Uncut, and hard as a rock.
Ummmmmm, she thought. Won't that feel nice tucked away up between my cunt ... oh my GOD!! !
She couldn't believe it.
But there it was, undeniable proof. She looked into Johnny's face as if to confirm it.
Consider it confirmed, kid, she thought.
She watched as a very heavy load of thick white jism started to ooze down the sides of his already wilting cock, going soft and there was still some of his spunk left inside.
Now there was a case of premature ejaculation that would not be beat!
He looked properly humiliated, as well he should, the dumb bastard!
"That's ... um ... a pretty serious case there, you know that?"
He didn't say anything.
She realized that he was really hurting. Uncharacteristic as it seemed to-be for her, she actually felt sorry for him.
She looked down at his cock, now around three sizes smaller, and she lowered her body so that her breasts were rubbing through his jism.
That seemed to shock the ever-loving fuck out of him.
And, if she wasn't mistaken, it also seemed to produce something of a reaction in his cock.
Nothing of Olympian proportions, understand, but it stopped shrinking, at least.
Then, she lowered herself the rest of the way, locked her lips around the pitiful little worm-like thing and sucked him clean.
He'd shot a hell of a load.
Then, when she thought about it, she realized that things were not so out of shape as they'd seemed. The boy was a first-timer! He'd probably never felt anyone's fingers wrapping around it besides his own in his entire life! She had no doubt that Mary Ellen Rogers never went near it. And if she had, the reaction she'd just witnessed would have cured the cheerleader of ever contemplating it again.
She kept her lips around it, and felt Johnny's body getting tense and rigid.
She looked up at him.
"Hey, big boy, you really need to relax. You hear?" He nodded.
She nodded with him. "Uh-huh. Why do I keep getting the idea that you're made of stainless steel. Now come on, let's get a little organic, shall we. This is a human body we're talking about. You know, soft, pliant...."
She knelt in front of him.
"You're scared shitless, aren't you?"
He finally responded, with a faint nod of his head. That was all it took to make Patsy feel like she'd been a real nasty bitch, and her appearance and demeanor notwithstanding, she did not want to be thought of as a real nasty bitch. Not really.
She softened. "What is it, the hair? That what's got you confused and bothered? Don't let it get to you. It washes right out."
"No ... it's not that ... " he started, but she cut him off by laughing gently.
"Hey, look I know what's got you scared, and it's all right. I mean, don't worry, okay. This is not as hard as you're making it out to be. What's hard is trying to act like you know what you're doing when you don't. Then, this sort of thing happens. It also happens when you aren't used to girls unzipping your pants and pulling your cock out. You follow?"
He once again nodded. She nodded with him. "Uh huh. I see you're a man of few words, but you're great on the neck action. All right...."
She lowered her head and proceeded to show him a little neck action herself.
His cock was now completely soft, but it was still drooling a stream of clear liquid.
She began to lick along the head, gently, to make the stimulation sweet and effective.
"Now," she said, pausing a moment, "you don't have to worry about shooting fast this time, because you've already gotten rid of the back-up. And judging by the looks of it, that was about fifteen years' worth. No, just fooling, honest. I'll bet you beat off just this morning. No, hey, I'm just kidding, don't look so indignant."
Then she thought a moment. "I'd best not talk with my mouth full. And I'd best keep it full, how's that sound?"
He nodded again, still looking scared.
Well, scared was better than that phony bravado that he'd carried in with him. Maybe if she dug deep enough, she'd find a real human being.
CHAPTER TWO
She lowered her head again, this time taking the mushroom-shaped tip between her lips, letting her tongue roll around on it, letting it press against the sides of her mouth.
He seemed to respond a little, so she looked up.
"Johnny, do you want to get laid? I mean, do you really want to get your ashes hauled, no shit?"
His eyes widened.
"What's the matter, haven't you ever heard a girl talk like a person before?"
He laughed. "Well, you keep surprising me."
"Yeah, fine, you keep surprising me. You start out being an ass-hole, and now you're starting to be human. What gives?"
"Hey, what do-"
She held up her hand.
"Johnny, it was a compliment, I promise, I wouldn't lie to you. But getting back to the question at hand, I was asking, because if you really do, and you don't want to fuck around with any stupid games, let's go up to my room and do it right. My dad's away on a trip and my mother won't be home till late."
"What about your sister?"
"Fuck my sister! Never mind, I know you'd like to, I was just kidding. Don't worry about my sister, all right?"
He shut up and let her lead him by the hand up the staircase to her bedroom.
"What's your dad do anyway? This is a nice house."
"Oh I get it, you never thought that I'd live in a place like this, huh."
"No ... well, I mean, your sister dresses ... I mean...."
"Right. They let her live here, and they'd stick me in the barn out back, right?"
"No, listen, I didn't mean anything."
"Oh, I guess it only sounded that way. Look Johnny, I'm gonna level with you. You might not like this, what I'm going to say, but I feel obligated as a fellow human being to inform you. Are you listening?"
He nodded. She nodded with him.
"That's what you do best."
"What?"
"Nodding. As opposed to opening your mouth and attempting to communicate with language. As a speaker, you make a great nodder."
He looked confused.
"You also have a great confused look about you."
His look of confusion deepened.
She gently placed her hands on his arms, slid them down to his wrists and held him.
"Look, don't pay any attention to me, all right. I've got a smart mouth that I can't ever seem to control. You ought to know about having things that you can't control, right?"
He looked hurt. She pushed him backwards so that he fell onto the bed before he could look too hurt.
"Look, don't play this 'Poor Pitiful Me' routine too hard, it's already getting old."
She then unbuckled his belt and pulled his trousers all the way off.
He was wearing bikini briefs ... unquestionably designed for men ... nonetheless, the self-consciousness of the style, when he had no reason to expect that anyone other than his mother and himself would see them, amused her. But she was careful not to laugh. This was not what one did when one was trying to stiffen a cock.
"Now, just relax, and I'll get those things off ... " she said soothingly as she slid them down his legs.
He lay back on the bed, watching her intently, a little like the way you keep your eye on a snarling Doberman at a stranger's house.
But she'd pulled in her fangs. Something about Johnny's helplessness and his obvious discomfort had touched a nerve of some sort in her, and she felt like nurturing. She also felt like getting laid, but as she'd often pointed out to her sister, the two were not mutually exclusive.
She noted that Johnny's cock had already gotten somewhat larger, just from the contact she'd made with it pulling his undershorts off.
That was encouraging.
She leaned over his prone body and started to unbutton his shirt now.
His chest was hairy, but not to simian proportions. Merely nice and masculine. To be honest with herself, she had to admit that he had an attractive appearance about him. She could easily remember far worse bed partners.
She removed his shirt and carelessly dropped it to the floor. Then she rose up on her knees and gazed down at him as he sprawled out beneath her on the bed.
"You know, you're not too bad looking. How come I always thought you were an ass-hole before?"
He looked angered by her crack, but before he could say anything, she reached down between his legs and started to rub at his cock.
She had a deft, light touch, and the second her fingertips touched the glans, she saw his entire body lurch upwards as his eyes closed and he lay back, content to postpone his indignation so long as she was willing to do what she was doing.
"You poor boy," she said soothingly, "doesn't anyone care enough about you to treat your cock the way it should be treated?"
"Well...."
"Save it. I know how much loving you get from Mary Ellen. Not fucking much, right? Am I right? Huh? Am I right, or aren't I?"
He looked annoyed. "Yeah, you're right," he allowed at last, but she felt his cock starting to wilt again.
Damn! Just when she was making a little progress, too.
"You've got a complex that won't quit, you know that? I mean, make one little joke about you and you right away go into a catatonic trance. At least your cock does. What the fuck gives?"
She saw that he actually looked embarrassed.
"Hey, am I giving you a rough time? Is that the problem? You think I'm giving you a rough time?"
He sighed, sat up and pushed her hand away from his crotch.
"Maybe I'd better go." He said it with deadly seriousness all high school men brought to their discussions with and about women.
She laughed.
"Maybe ... but I kind of doubt it." She'd just be making him. That was, after all, still the mainline reason for this entire affair.
She stared him right in the eyes and, letting her tongue stick out just a little and rest on her bottom lip in a provocative manner, she slowly unbuttoned her short cut-off jeans.
She never wore any underpanties, and when she pulled the zipper down, she didn't even have to check to see whether or not there was any of her pubic bush exposed. She knew there was, and furthermore, she knew that Johnny was staring right at it.
Or, at least, he'd already glanced down at her crotch once, and then had quickly looked away, lest he be blinded by some impure sight or something.
She just pulled her shorts down slowly, exposing more and more of her bush, smiling wordlessly at him all the while.
Johnny's eyes once more flickered down to her crotch and this time they lingered there a little longer before turning away.
"What's the matter," she taunted easily, "are you afraid that you'll see something your mother wouldn't want you seeing?"
He knew that she was toying with him.
She knew that he knew it.
And they both knew that if he didn't put his clothes on right then and stalk out of the room, he was never going to do it, and the afternoon would be hers, on whatever terms she wanted.
She wasn't sure of him, even then.
He seemed to be slobbering over the fact that a girl was making herself naked in his presence, just for him, and solely for the purpose of fucking his eyes out. In fact, if she had anything to worry about, it was the fact that he was so staggered by the brazenness of her actions. She was confident that once the full weight of the situation settled onto his shoulders, he'd be going nowhere. CHRIST!
This was a chance to get laid! No man passed that up! Even if the girl was ugly. Being gorgeous, as she knew damn well she was, simply made it all the more unthinkable that he'd bolt.
Of course, all this assumed that he would catch on pretty quick to the full implications of the situation, and she was just beginning to suspect that Johnny Swanson didn't catch on to too fucking much of anything quick.
A sort of dim bulb, you might say. Maybe somewhere around a brick or two shy of a full load.
He wavered. She could see him thinking (and she could also see the effort that it cost him), see his face scrunch up in confusion, and so, just to help him out, she lowered her shorts a little further.
Seeing that he was intently studying the newly exposed parts of her thighs, as well as the by now fully revealed triangle of thick, kinky black hair, she lay back on the bed and worked her cut-offs down the rest of her slender legs, till they dangled from the end of one toe.
She waved her jeans in front of Johnny's face.
"Would you please take these from me, Johnny?" she asked in her sexiest voice. "I do feel so much better when I can just ... sort of
'get comfortable' with a friend."
She bit her bottom lip, and licked her tongue along the edge of it while she stared at his cock.
During the course of removing her shorts, she'd managed to spread her legs wide. She now closed her thighs just a little bit.
"My goodness, would you look at me ... spreading my body all over the damn place, opening myself up disgracefully."
She glanced at him.
"Unless, of course, you find that you aren't offended by the sight of a lady's genitalia ... hmmmm? Tell me Johnny, what does that do to you? What does it feel like to look at a wide open pussy? To stare at pink shiny flesh and know that it's just a photograph? Isn't it much nicer to look at the real thing? Or don't you know about that?"
She'd already taken him far beyond language. He was rapidly becoming reduced to a babbling wreck, incapable of anything other that staring wordlessly at the vision that was taking shape before his eyes, and letting the occasional drop of drool slip from his opened mouth.
She spread her thighs open again. "I do believe you enjoy watching me do this, Johnny. Am I right? Of course I'm right. You like it, don't you? You like to see my pull my pussy lips apart, to slide my fingers up through my slit, like this ... OOOOOOOOO, I'm wet, and I'm hot, and I feel so soft, and comfortable. I'll just bet your cock would love to feel how soft and hot and wet I am...."
She was enjoying herself, and just watching him dissolve was a turn-on in itself. On top of that, she had a rich history of masturbating (she had a philosophy that there was no conceivable situation that would prevent a determined woman from masturbating, should she prove determined in her efforts, which she, at least, always was), and as she touched herself more and more, she felt a tingling in between her legs, felt her clitoris starting to get erect and felt her juices starting to flow from deep within her body. She always had a wet pussy. When she became aroused, it turned absolutely sopping, like a drenched sponge.
Johnny seemed to be sagging a little now ... all except that hose between his legs. That seemed to be getting more and more assertive, with every word she spoke. She couldn't help it ... she was starting to get very, very horny for Johnny Swanson's cock, and by the very nature of its steadily stiffening condition, she could tell that he was getting quite horny for her cunt.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Johnny? You don't really take me seriously when I have a little fun with you, do you? You aren't just a humorless nurd, are you?"
By now, she had three fingers buried inside her pussy and was already starting to notice a slurping sound as she started working them in and out of her hole.
"Can you hear that?" she asked him. In the silence, she made a particularly forceful plunge between her pussy lips, and sure enough, there was a loud SPLOSH as she split through the center of her cunt, spreading her walls to either side and literally splashing juice all over her hand.
"Did you hear that? Just think, Johnny, that could have been your cock. Wouldn't you love that?"
It was obvious by now that Johnny Swanson wasn't going anywhere. It was also obvious that he still regarded her with a mixture of blind fear and utter mistrust. She saw that if anything was going to come of this, it would have to involve a little initiative on her part.
Holding his gaze with her eyes the way the pole holds a compass needle, she slowly worked her way up the bed, straddling his body with her spread thighs. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her. Closer and closer she moved, working her thighs over his well muscled thighs, up across the solid plain of his stomach, on up past his well developed chest, all the while running her fingers in and out of her wet slit and pulling on her lips from time to time, flashing glimpses of wet pink meat for him to gaze upon and drool over.
"You know what I'd like you to do, Johnny, that is if you don't have any problems with it ... sometimes guys are too hung up to enjoy doing it, but I'd sure love it if you would."
"S-s-s-sure," he stammered, "what'd you h-have in mind?"
She move closer and closer to his face, until his nose was literally rubbing through her pubic patch.
"Guess."
"Oh ... well, sure. That'd be great," he said and to her enjoyment, he quickly stuck his tongue directly in her slit.
"Oh, that's grand, Johnny, that really is grand. You have a good touch."
Actually, she was just saying that. He was something like a cross between a great Dane and a St. Bernard, and with each stroke of his tongue, he seemed determined to cover as much territory as he possibly could.
He'd never seemed to have heard of the notion that 'less was more' either. Hard. That's the way to describe the tension he applied to her clit. Hard, and brutal.
But in his own clumsy way, he was having an effect on her all the same. She had to admit that she couldn't remember when she'd had the honor of initiating a virgin before.
Johnny seemed so eager, yet so frightened, it seemed to take her normal sense of humor away, or at least soften it so that it would strike him as being so cruel. She could tell that he had zero in the way of self-confidence. Which, considering the experience he'd had, and the technique he was exhibiting, wasn't so out of place.
But she would show him. Assuming there was going to be any continuation of this situation. Not now. You should never try to show a first timer where he's wrong. He's excited enough about doing it at all. You should never point out that he knows next to nothing. That a can opener would be considered gentle compared to him. Not good form. Not if the ultimate goal was to get his cock into her cunt and get his balls to shoot off in her. That was about as far as anyone was justified in looking with a first timer. They just didn't have the ability or the know-how for it to be any better.
It didn't matter to Patsy. She enjoyed the fact that the juices that were being lapped up by Johnny's tongue right now were the first pussy juices that he'd ever tasted. It gave her a tingly thrill all through her body.
Then, he seemed somehow to isolate her clitoris, and must have known enough to know that it was meant to be the center of attention.
He crudely pulled her lips apart and started to home in on the tightly gathered bud of nerves, licking harder and harder across it, but it was just too much, and she soon was able to feel almost nothing.
Finally, she could stand it no more.
'Johnny," she said, and he stopped what he was doing to look up at her.
"Yeah?" he said.
"Johnny, there's something I have to tell you."
"Okay. What is it?"
"Well ... I hate to see all that energy going to waste. You know what I mean? I mean, you're trying real hard, and you've got the right idea, but you could score a lot more directly if you just eased up a little."
"Huh?"
"Right. Ease up a little."
"Oh. I guess I was a little too much for you, huh?"
"No ... please, I'd hate for you to go thinking something like that. Actually it's kind of the other way around, but just keep in mind, the lighter you do it, the better it is for me."
"I don't get it. That's your clit, right?"
"Oh honey, it sure is."
"Well, that's what does all the feeling, right?"
"Sure. When it's stimulated right."
"Okay, so what am I doing wrong?"
She sighed. Already, she could tell that the mood had been broken for him. It wasn't surprising. Most guys didn't care if the girl got off on it or not. It was really difficult to find a guy that not only cared about the girl's pleasure, but also knew how to do something about it.
"Look, Johnny, don't take this personally, all right. It's not your fault. You've just never licked a clit before. So, I'm just telling you, there are things you can do that make it a lot more enjoyable for all involved. Hey, look at it this way. Wouldn't you like to be able to make a woman quiver and shake, and wrap her legs around your back and scream and scratch you, and go crazy with quivering, mind-shaking lust?" , He thought about that a moment.
"Well, sure, I mean, I guess so...."
"Good. There's hope. Now look, here's what I can guarantee you. You listen to a few things that I have to tell you about licking clits, and about cunts in general, and I promise you, you'll be getting a reputation around school as a first rate lover, and I mean faster than you'd ever have thought possible. You talk about having girls hanging off you. About having girls worship you. About having girls following you around, just begging for a little attention from you ... you want to have girls calling you up for dates? Well, just listen to me, how about it?" He looked glum.
"What are you saying, that I don't know what I'm doing?"
"Johnny, be truthful with me. Have you ever licked a cunt before? Have you ever been in bed with a naked woman before? Do you have the faintest idea what women's bodies are all about?"
He pouted a little.
"No," he said at last. "You know I haven't, and that I don't."
"Right. But that's why this is your lucky day. I knew it before I asked you into my bed, and I don't mind. I didn't expect you to know anything. You can't know about something till you've done it, right?"
"So, what do you want me to do?"
She grinned triumphantly. Maybe she'd be able to get her rocks off after all.
"All right, first, one thing you'd better learn and never forget. Women, despite everything you've ever learned, and everything that you've ever heard, love it. They love sex, they love having hands between their legs, they love orgasms, most of them masturbate, and they'd be only too glad to let guys fuck them except that they're afraid they won't know anything and hurt them."
"Come on, that's an exaggeration, isn't it?"
She leaned back, letting her clit poke through her cunt lips as she smiled at him.
"Maybe. But I'll tell you this. There's enough girls out there who really love to get fucked that you certainly don't need to be bothering with a little prick teaser like Mary Ellen Rogers."
"Boy, you really have it in for her, don't you."
"Johnny, she's a cunt. What do you need a tight-assed little twat like that for? It makes no sense. You're a handsome, sensitive guy. You've got a cock that would sink a battle ship if aimed right, and there are numberless women who would love to have it shoved up their cracks."
She could tell that her blunt talk, while still shocking him (he'd most likely never even been able to say 'damn' around the-likes of Mary Ellen Rogers), but he seemed to be getting a little more comfortable with it.
Fuck him, if he couldn't take a joke, she thought. Girls can talk bluntly as well as boys. Particularly if it's the girl who's doing the teaching.
She placed her fingers on either side of her lips, and pulled them apart, also pulling up with her hands.
That spread the soft fleshy membranes that smothered her clit in a protective sheath wide apart, letting the tiny tongue-like bud of nerves pop up fully erect and waiting.
The moment or two that she'd been talking to Johnny had allowed her to rest up a little, and the effects of his overwhelming onslaught had waned considerably.
Which meant that she was feeling an ache all through her body once more, an ache that seemed to be spreading out from a zero-point situated right on her clit.
She needed to have it treated, fast, and efficiently.
"Now, bring your tongue up to it, Johnny, but make it kind of still, and keep the tip in particular real stiff."
Johnny reached around with his hands and placed them on her fleshy but firm buttocks. She felt his fingers digging into her body as, charged by the emotion of the moment, he started to get carried away with himself again.
He pulled tightly on her backside, jerking her forward and crashing her into his waiting mouth.
"No, no, no," she cautioned, "not so hard. Just take it slow and easy."
"Well dammit," he said, "I've never heard of anything like this."
"Well dumb ass, who've you ever asked in your life? Your mother? Your sister? Mary Ellen?"
He looked sheepish. "All right, now what do you want me to do?"
"Well Johnny, what I want you to do is to drive me out of my mind with ecstasy, make me see stars, hear bells, talk to the universe."
He didn't get it.
"I want you to make me come, and if you do it right, you'll make all those things happen to me, and lots more besides."
He looked skeptical.
"It will, huh?"
"Sure will. And let me tell you, it isn't the easiest thing to make happen, which is why women are willing to do anything for a man who makes her body work the way it was meant to."
He frowned again, pondering this, and while he contemplated, Patsy took the opportunity to bring her pussy up to his lips again.
"Johnny," she said, noticing that he was being sullen again, "slip your tongue into my pussy, will you? Please."
He hesitated, so she pulled her lips apart. The sight of her ruby-tipped stiff clitoris buried right there in the middle of a patch of brilliant pink pussy meat broke down all his resistance, and as he glanced up to make sure that she was watching, he let his tongue slide out from between his lips.
She watched as it came closer and closer to her clitoris, closer, closer....
He touched it.
"Oh, yes ... that's nice Johnny, that's really nice. Real easy like that..just a faint feather touch."
He touched her clit, and then he pulled his tongue back, touched again, and once more pulled back.
When he did touch, it was scarcely a touch at all, with only the slightest bit of pressure.
Oh, if only he could know how delicious it feels, thought Patsy to herself. She often felt sorry for men. They only had about seven seconds of orgasmic potential, with the rest of the time primarily focused on trying not to come.
That was not the case with women, a fact for which she'd been forever grateful.
Women never had to worry about holding back. The only problem they had was whether or not the man would be able to do to her what she needed to have done.
The truth was, that as varied as her experience had been, she had to admit that she'd never been able to find a man that truly satisfied her. Not the least little bit.
There were guys who made her come, and there were guys who had big cocks who knew how to use them, and there were guys who could fuck for hours without coming ... but she'd never found a guy who'd left her totally satiated. She wanted, more than anything, to be able to find a man who would fill her, who would totally drain all the sexual tension out of her, after which she would not have to say "More, more, I want more...."
Thus far in her life, she'd become resigned to the fact that women were just able to take a lot more fucking than men could. It wasn't the kind of thing that she saw she was able to do much about, so she'd decided to not let it bother her.
But maybe ... just maybe ... if she could train a lover from scratch ... make him do exactly what she wanted....
It was just an idea, but she already was convinced that it would work. The only thing she wasn't sure of, was whether or not the boy whose head was between her legs right then was the one for her. Well, she thought, there was only one way to find out, and that was to keep on fucking.
CHAPTER THREE
There was one thing that she had to say about Johnny. He was willing.
From the way that he was working now on her clitoris, it was obvious that he'd not only heard and understood what she'd told him, but that he was truly interested in doing a good job on her.
"Oh yes, Johnny," she moaned, and she didn't have to fake any of the emotion either, not that she would have anyway. But the fact was, that tongue of his was driving her crazy.
He continued touching the tip to her clit, pulling it away, and touching it again, doing it over and over, getting faster at times, but keeping the action simple and the same, repeating over and over again the same sequence of moves ... touch, release, touch, release....
One thing that Patsy had learned a long time ago, and that was that repetition was never a bad thing in sex. Doing the same thing over and over again, if it was the right thing, could become so delicious that it would blow her brains out, and she'd never get tired of it.
She quickly decided that Johnny had stumbled onto just such a thing.
Soon, he was varying it just a little, letting his tongue move from side to side every time he brought it down on top of her clit.
She began to moan, louder and louder, and began also to roll her hips from side to side, pressing them up into Johnny's face, pressing her buttocks down into the mattress, and then repeating the moves again.
She found that as he continued to lick at her clit, there was no way that she could remain still. It was starting to drive her crazy.
"Oh, yes, Johnny, yes, I love it, you're getting so good, so fast. I'm really impressed."
He didn't say anything, although he did look up at her skeptically.
He must not trust me, Patsy thought, and she had to admit that she couldn't blame him. She'd given him a lot of shit that afternoon, and it must have confused him a little.
But face it, she was also spreading her legs for him, and he was down between them right now, eating a pussy that was quite tasty and experienced, if she did say so herself. Surely that had to provide a little balance somewhere along there.
Johnny began to experiment with her pussy. She felt him sliding his fingers along her slit, felt him probing at her hole, and then she felt him sticking his fingers up inside her.
It felt good, and she rolled her hips even more sharply to try and force his fingers to increase their stretching action on her.
"Oh yes, Johnny, that feels wonderful. Please, harder, harder. Stretch me Johnny, please stretch me. I love it. I really do!"
He seemed to be fueled by her words, because she felt him immediately getting rougher with her, stretching the walls of her pussy more sharply than before.
He must be a little confused, thought Patsy. First she told him that less was more ... and now she was simply begging him to do it harder, harder, harder.
Well, that's just the way women's bodies were, and if he was going to get used to it, it wouldn't do him any good to try and make things logical for him. Explanations were bullshit against the real experience anyway. That's really the only way to do it, she thought, just let him go, and see what happens.
He was learning fast. It wasn't hard, because Patsy was a very vocal person when she made love.
All he had to do was to listen closely to her and he'd easily be able to tell what was working and what wasn't.
He buried his fingers as far as they would go, letting the other fingers on his hand remain outside her pussy, and positioning them so that they rubbed over her clit as the three that were inside her pressed against every membrane that they could encounter.
She was starting to get louder and louder now, and every time that he moved his fingers inside her cunt, she screamed.
From within her pussy, juice was being secreted at a faster and faster rate of flow. There seemed to be no friction whatsoever between his fingers and her pussy walls, and she kept feeling slipperier and slipperier.
Oily juice was getting smeared all over the insides of her thighs, and one time when she looked down at him, she saw that his face, his cheeks in particular, was also coated heavily with her cunt juice.
There was a bright sheen to his cheeks, almost as if he'd had a coat of varnish applied to him.
"You're getting all greasy," she laughed. "Well, that's your fault, I guess," he said, and continued eating her cunt.
She was impressed by his dedication.
In and out went his tongue.
In!
And out! And in again! And up and down.
His fingers were stretching her hole, his tongue was working harder and harder and faster on her clit.
Now, she suddenly found that she wanted him to go a little harder on her, but she didn't need to tell him.
He was still inclined to go too hard anyway, so she found that he was just about right for what she needed.
She was amazed by how much she needed this, and was also surprised to find how well Johnny was able to give it to her.
Yes, she thought, he was going to make a first class lover.
"Johnny," she moaned after a while ... "I want your cock. I want your cock in me."
He looked up at her, and once again seemed to be just a little boy who didn't know what he was doing.
"Oh, it'll be all right," Patsy said, thinking that maybe he was worried about coming too fast again. "I can keep you from shooting off."
"How," he asked, still sounding dubious of her claims and her intentions.
"Hey look," she said, suddenly feeling indignant, "what is it about me? It's my hair, right? You don't like multi-colored hair, right?"
"Well," he said, grinning, "it was kind of funny when you first started wearing it, but now everyone's kind of gotten used to it."
"Yeah," she said glumly, "everyone except my mother. She's still giving me shit for it. Fuck it, you ought to see me when I have the feathers in it also."
"I'm sure it looks grand," he said, getting up to his knees, and taking' his cock in his hand.
"Well, talk about taking matters in hand," she said, spreading her legs.
"I take it, this is part of what you had in mind?"
She sat up and stared at him.
"You take it? YOU TAKE IT? Where the fuck did you learn how to talk. My God, I've just finished saying, 'Johnny, Johnny, I want your cock' and you still don't know what I mean. Why the hell don't you get wise, boy?"
He looked sheepish, and once again she was reminded of just how fragile an ego he must have.
"Look, Johnny, I told you, don't pay any attention to me. I shoot off my mouth, all right? It doesn't mean anything. You take me too seriously. I don't mean for you to, but I guess I just take fucking more lightly than you do. Wait till you've been doing it for a while, you'll see what I mean."
He looked hurt.
"I could never take sex lightly. It's a serious matter. It's almost ... well, it's almost religious."
She looked at him. Right, she thought. What a weirdo.
"I don't want you to pray to me, Johnny, I want you to fuck me, but to be perfectly honest about it, I'm starting to have doubts about whether or not you really have heart in it. Now ... are you going to get down to business, or are you going to stand there with your dick in your hand?"
Once more he grinned sheepishly. It was starting to become him.
"Y-you'll have to s-show me where ... I mean ... oh gosh...."
She smiled and then she laughed, but it wasn't a malicious laugh.
"That's what it is, isn't it? You're not sure what the fuck to do and so you're stalling."
He nodded, not looking at her.
She reached out and touched his cock. It had, in spite of all their talk and his obvious discomfort, retained its tumescent state, admirably, under the circumstances, she thought, and she now pulled his stiff shaft toward her cunt.
But first, perhaps a little fellatio....
"You want a little head?" she asked, impishly.
He frowned. "What's wrong with my head?" he asked.
She started to laugh. "That's not what I meant ... oh gosh, you really don't know anything, do you?"
He sat up, anger breaking out all over his face.
"Well dammit, if you'd stop wasting time reminding me of it every ten seconds and instead show me a thing or two, maybe I could change the situation."
Patsy was surprised. It was a healthy sign. He was finally going beyond his self-consciousness about being naive, and getting into the mood of really learning. Patsy, old girl, she told herself, I think we're going to have ourself a fine time with this boy. But he'll need to be brought along smoothly. Can't push him too hard, or else he'll bolt. You need to play him in easy, so that he won't even know he's been caught until it's too late for him to do anything about it.
She stroked his hard prick lovingly. "This is what I meant by head," she said.
Lowering herself to his groin, she opened her mouth and took the glans of his shaft in between her lips.
He started to moan again, right away in fact, and remembering how easily he'd lost his load the last time, she kept her thumb and forefinger positioned directly behind the mushroom shaped head, ready to squeeze the instant he sounded like he was coming. Better yet, in case he was a silent comer like some men, she'd tell him.
"Johnny, all you have to do, if you feel your balls starting to go out of control, is say "I'm coming" or "Now!" or something to give me a signal. Do you understand?"
He nodded. She nodded with him. "You still do that better than anyone I know," she quipped, but he didn't seem to notice.
She started to lick up and down his shaft, making a soft, wet surface with the inner lining of both of her lips, and pressing down onto his cock.
She slid her head up and down, and the soft surface of her lips, pressed back by the pressure of her head, slid over his cock smoothly and easily.
"Now!" he said all at once, and just in time, she squeezed right behind his glans. He looked on in wonderment. "Wow, that was great," he said. "It went right back down."
She smiled. "I know. I can keep you stiff for hours, if you want."
He still looked a little dazed, and so without waiting for an answer, she started to lick his shaft again.
Dropping down to his balls, she cradled first one, then the other, and then both of them in her mouth, being extremely careful not to press down hard on them or bite them, or otherwise get carried away with herself. She was past the point of wanting to taunt him. Now, all she was concerned about was making the afternoon a pleasurable one for both of them.
He seemed to be gaining confidence too, because as she was deep-throating him, he began to pull at her body, coaxing her to shift positions, bringing her buttocks around to his face. As she continued to suck his cock, she felt his tongue once more probe the sensitive flesh between her cunt lips, digging deeply into her pussy hole, and fluttering with expert precision over her clit.
She was starting to get a little carried away again, but that's the effect that he was having as he moved his tongue in and out and up and down and all through her wet, dripping pink slit.
"Oh Johnny, you're getting so good, so fast. Oh, GOD, YES, oh, don't stop!"
He sucked on the flesh around her clit. It was loose and wrapped about her clit in gentle folds, and as he sucked harder and hard, it all went inside his mouth, clit and all.
She felt his teeth come in contact with her clit, and then, he began to actually chew on it, nibbling constantly, with an occasional hard burst to go with the continual movements.
"Oh, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHHH!! ! "
She was rolling wildly on the bed now, letting his cock stick loosely in her mouth, sometimes clamping down hard on it, sometimes just letting it hang between her lips.
She suddenly went rigid, as Johnny hit a particularly sensitive nerve with his teeth.
In reflex, she bit hard on his cock.
She heard him cry out, but didn't pay any attention, simply started sucking on it again and jamming her hips up against his face.
She heard him moaning more and more loudly, and then he cried out, "NOW!"
She wasn't sure at first what he was talking about. Then she remembered. He was coming again!
She quickly squeezed his cock, hoping that she'd been in time, and studied the tiny slit in the center of his glans, waiting to see if anything would come out.
She finally saw a large droplet of clear liquid emerge and run down the surface of his glans, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that no more seemed to be following it.
She held his glans once more in her mouth, let a large batch of her saliva flow out of her mouth and run down the sides of his shaft, and forming a ring out of her forefinger and thumb, she began to stroke his cock very rapidly, working her tongue over the head all the while.
The effect on Johnny was profound.
He closed his eyes, and seemed to drift off to another world.
She rolled her head around, pivoting it on his cock, sucking hard, making sure that she covered as much of the surface area as she possibly could.
He started to buck his hips hard against her face, and the head of his cock shot straight into her mouth and all the way to the back of her throat.
She found it difficult to breath, but the sensation of his thick cock filling her mouth and throat was stimulating enough that she managed to work around it, and managed to keep it where it was, without suffocating.
He was still playing his tongue over her clit, doing so with more and more ease and grace.
It was like electric shocks were shooting all through her body, growing more and more intense all the while.
She would have been moaning and babbling incoherently by now, but the cock in her mouth prevented her from doing so.
She'd even forgotten that he might need special attention from time to time to keep him from shooting too soon.
She'd actually forgotten most everything ... her name, her address, the year, the day, why she was doing what she was doing....
All she could focus on was the fact that a bomb seemed to be going off between her legs, and the damn thing just kept going off, relentlessly, unceasingly, and every single time, it seemed to be stronger and stronger.
Finally, she could stand it no longer.
She pulled her head off of Johnny's cock and squirmed out from under his body.
Turning around, she looked him in the eyes and said "You don't need to learn a damn thing. All you need to do is fuck me, but you need to do it right now, or else I'm going to go crazy."
He was in no mood to argue.
He pushed her back on the bed, and even though he probably still wasn't too sure just where to put everything, he didn't falter.
She watched as he reached down to examine her pussy once again, making sure that he knew where the hole was.
Were there two ... nope. Good. Just checking it out.
Then, he held the head of his cock tightly in his hand and leaned down, bringing it closer and closer to her pussy.
She spread her legs, and put her fingers on either side of her pussy, pulling it wide open, just to help him out.
She felt the head of his cock touch her body! It was scraping right along the super-charged flesh of her cunt. He moved it up and down, letting it slosh through the drenched membranes of her stretched cunt-lips.
And then, like a golf ball, he found the hole, and let the head settle into the indentation, slowly pressing aside the walls that encircled it, forming the rim.
Patsy began to moan, but she didn't lose herself enough to forget what was going on.
She wanted to keep this one for as long as she could. So, just in case he might have any thoughts about shooting off before his time, she squeezed his cock one last time behind the glans, and then began to press forward with her hips as he pressed into her.
She felt him slowly enter, felt her cunt opening more and more to receive him.
He was large, and long ... not the largest cock she'd ever seen, but one of the largest that she'd ever gotten into her body. He didn't know a lot about using it yet, of course, but just the feeling of that thick piece of meat sticking right into her was more than enough to drive her out of her mind. She thought to herself, in one of her last moments of coherence, that if someone ever taught him how to use that thing to the fullest, he'd be the most deadly weapon since nerve gas.
Further and further, deeper and deeper, pulling out a little now to fully coat the part that was already in, then shoving again for deeper penetration.
He was filling her up. There was a look of concern in his eyes, as if he wasn't sure that he could even get it all the way in without coming, so she pulled his ear down close to her lips and said, "I want to fuck you for a long time, you hot stud. Make sure that you let me know when you're going to come. I don't want to waste a cock like you've got."
He nodded, seeming relieved by her statement, and then, with one massive lurching jolt of his hips, she felt the last of her cunt spread apart as he plowed all the way into her back wall.
She sucked in her breath in a tortured gasp.
"I feel you! You're in me. Oh God! So deep. So full!! ! "
He, for his part, said nothing. He simply held himself inside her, letting her pussy caress his cock with its muscle movements.
Patsy had well developed cunt muscles, capable of sending ripples up and down whatever cock was buried inside her.
She began to work over the sides of Johnny's shaft now, literally chewing it up with her cunt.
"It's like it's alive," he said in amazement.
"It is. And so are you," she responded in a breathy whisper.
Their hips began a slow dance, moving in perfect synch with each other.
Up and down, in and out, back and forth, his cock was alive, was in constant motion inside her.
He pulled out, almost all the way, till the ridge of his glans was locked perfectly within the circular rim of her hole.
He held it there a few moments, gently rocking his cock in and out of her cunt chamber.
Then, without warning, he jabbed back at her, burying the full length of his shaft inside her again.
It went on like that, the rest of the afternoon. Occasionally, he would mutter that he was coming, and he would pull out far enough for her to squeeze him and release the tension once more, but he was learning to control his coming reflex. She could imagine him beating off with whatever dirty pictures he had at his disposal, stroking his cock harder and harder, losing control, not worrying about how long it took, only that that funny feeling in his balls exploded into thick bursts of juicy white cum, spurting all over himself.
Her mind became sullied by imaged of his cock shooting all over the place, an eternal gusher of cum, like Old Faithful, shooting a thick spray high into the air, and all of it slowly falling back through space, landing with pinpoint precision right in her waiting mouth.
She wanted to taste his cum. Perhaps she would. But she wasn't going to suck him to an orgasm today. Today, he was going to fuck her, and fuck her properly, and she would feel him filling her up with his spunk, filling her, and then she would feel her juices mixing with his cum, and the whole mess spilling out the sides, between his cock and her lips.
But when it came, he surprised her. Suddenly, she felt him pull out. She looked at him in horror, and then her look turned to one of fascination as he started to beat his cock wildly in his fist, and a thick hot glob of white cum shot from the head, and landed right in her pubic hair.
And then, another followed, and another after that, and more and more continued to follow, an unending stream of cum globs, all of them landing right on her pussy, dripping down into her slit.
She stared at him.
"Why the fuck did you do that?"
He was still dribbling droplets of jism onto her body.
"Do what?" he asked, still beating his meat. "Why did you pull your cock out of me and shoot onto my bush?" He looked confused.
"I thought that's what you were supposed to do."
"Johnny, this is not a movie. We don't need to get any wet shots to prove that we're doing it for real. I know we're doing it for real. We don't need to prove it to anyone."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, still holding his cock. It was just starting to dawn on him that he'd fucked up, and real good.
"I just thought...."
Patsy laughed, in spite of the fact that her cunt was aching wildly for release.
"Listen, I really need that cock of yours. I don't suppose you could get it hard again, could you?"
He looked down at it, doubtfully. "Gee ... I don't know...."
"Never mind, skip it."
She started to rub his jism all over her body, scraping large amounts of it up with her fingers and licking them clean.
"You taste good," she told him.
He sat there on his haunches, his now wilting cock still clasped tightly in his fist, and watched while she cleaned herself off in that manner, and then as she began to masturbate herself to an orgasm.
She'd rather have come from his cock pounding in and out of her. Damn him, she'd been close too.
But instead, she now had to content herself with flicking her clit, which she did with expert precision.
Spreading her lips, she once more made her tiny bud with its pack batch of nerve endings stand up straight, begging for attention.
She provided it.
She began to flick her forefinger across the surface, slapping it, rubbing it, pinching it, twisting it-She started to moan. She started to groan. Her hips started to roll. She felt her body once more charge itself. This time, however, she didn't mess around.
She needed an orgasm, and she went about producing one as quickly, efficiently and economically as possible.
She felt it building, pushing her higher and higher. As it came closer, she felt that there was a direct line of sensation linking her clit with her nipples.
Her breasts felt like they were starting to swell like balloons, and the feeling in them grew so intense that she was afraid that they might burst. Help me. Suck my nipples. Chew on them. Bite them ... hurt them ... " she begged, scarcely able to think clearly now.
He did as she asked, willingly. He took one nipple into his mouth, and the other he began to manipulate between his thumb and his forefinger.
She'd asked him to be rough, but he was still a little to sedate to be as rough as she wanted him to be.
She was pinching her clit now, harder and harder. "Johnny," she asked, "please stick your fingers in me. Please. I need it. I need it. I need more than I can give myself."
Once more, he was only too glad to comply with her wishes.
She felt first one, then two, and then three fingers creeping into her pussy, once more spreading her membranes.
He bit down hard on her nipple, sending a shock of pain shooting all through her body.
"Oh, YES YES YES YES YES YES!! ! " she shrieked.
He bit again.
And again.
His fingers were savaging her pussy, driving it into a wild frenzy of excitement.
Spreading both sides, forcing her chamber to open up further and further, he then managed to stick a fourth finger in her.
That did the trick.
A violent wave of orgasmic fury shook her body like she had her own San Andreas Fault running up her backbone.
Earthquakes inside her were nothing compared to the atomic bombs. Photon torpedos ripped her brain. Bolts of lightning sprang from every nerve ending, searing her flesh.
She tried to scream, but her vocal cords had been hopelessly blown.
Her body went rigid. She felt like Frankenstein's monster.
She felt herself reborn, dying, disintegrating, felt like she'd never existed, felt like she was just the figment of someone else's imagination.
The world spun, it danced, it turned into nothing but colors, it turned into a black & white movie.
She was able to sustain only one objective activity, and that was to continue raking her fingers over her clit, which by now was glowing like a miniature sun.
like a small sliver of plutonium, it gave off energy far in excess of its apparent size. It was the source of all energy in the universe ... her universe, anyway.
Johnny was overawed by her reaction, but had the presence of mind to keep doing what he was doing, dimly aware that he was in some way connected with the splattering of humanity going on beneath him.
It had never occurred to him that this seemingly self-destructive activity could be the most fundamental urge in the human brain, but then, as he was rapidly discovering, there were a lot of things that had never occurred to him.
Fortunately for the rest of us, that had no effect on their being true.
She continued at the peak for long, countless minutes. Johnny had no way of knowing how long, and Patsy certainly didn't.
But finally, he felt the tremors inside her begin to subside, and her breathing, while still coming in short, tortured gasps, nonetheless seemed to be getting back on a more normal level.
Her body twitched randomly long after she'd stopped actually coming. Johnny kept his fingers inside her pussy, not certain that he was supposed to remove them yet.
As a matter-of-fact, he wasn't certain of much of anything, anymore. He didn't know what to think of a girl that obviously enjoyed sex as much as Patsy did. All his instincts told him that she was nothing more than a slut and a whore ... but there was something else nagging at him that told him it wasn't quite that simple.
Whatever, there would always be a soft spot in his heart when he thought of her. She'd taken him across a line he'd been worrying he might never have a chance to cross. And she'd done so with care, and with patience. He had learned a lot about himself and about women this afternoon.
It. seemed hard to believe that he'd come over here hoping to get a crack at Patsy's sister, Suzie. Somehow, even with her rainbow-hued hair, Patsy seemed to be far more appealing and beautiful than Suzie would ever be.
Hmmmm, he thought, that didn't quite seem to be the proper response. Not the kind that filled the locker room. Fuck 'em, don't love 'em. Who gives a fuck about names ... cunts are all that matter ... it's all pink on the inside....
Everything he'd grown up with had told him that women were good for fucking, but you certainly didn't want to start taking them seriously.
Except, he had this natural inclination to take Patsy seriously. She was universally considered the school weirdo, and with good reason. She refused to mix with most of the student body, preferring instead the small group of outcasts that never had any chance of being included in the best groups ... the troublemakers, the ones that wouldn't even get a single line in the yearbook except for the group class picture....
She was an outcast, by her own design. No one had ever taken the time to try and figure her out before....
Well, he wasn't saying that he'd figured her out. Quite to the contrary, he was only more and more confused.
But there was one thing that could not be denied, and that was that he'd go just about anywhere to repeat the activities of this afternoon, particularly now that he had a pretty good idea of what was supposed to happen. Damn! She'd taught him how to fuck. Damn!! !
She started to come around now, opening her eyes, stretching long and leisurely across her bed.
"You're pretty good, even if you don't know what you're doing, you know that?" He smiled awkwardly. "Well, I hope so."
"Trust me. I know what I'm talking about."
Patsy looked away for a moment. She knew damn well that he was slobbering all over himself already for a chance to repeat this. Now was the time to bait the hook and snag the dumb bastard good and solid.
She sat up, and assumed a casual air.
"Well, that was nice, Johnny, but you really didn't have to lie about being a virgin to get laid. I'd probably have gone to bed with you anyway."
"Huh?"
"Seriously. That's the trouble with you guys. You don't ever give any consideration to the truth. It's so much easier when you just tell the truth."
"Huh?"
She assumed a depressed air.
"I guess you won't want to see me anymore. I don't mind. It's all right. Seriously, I understand."
"Hey, wait a minute, what the fuck are you babbling about."
"Please, Johnny, I told you, it's all right. You don't have to go any further with this act for my benefit. I admit, I chased you down, and you don't owe me anything. You didn't sign anything in blood, or anything like that. Believe me, there are no hard feelings."
She wasn't exactly crying, understand ... but it looked like she was keeping back the tears only with a major effort.
Johnny was staring at her like she'd just dropped through a time warp or something.
"What are you talking about?"
"Johnny, please, can I just remember you like this. It was all so beautiful, and I'd hate to have to spend the rest of my life thinking about how you'd promised me...."
She turned away, appearing unable to continue. Then, after a moment, she looked back.
"It's all right. I'm all right. I always get like this. Please, it'll pass. Just don't pay any attention to me."
"Look, Patsy, I'd like to see you again. Honest."
She played along, humoring him.
"Really? Gee, that would be nice, Johnny. Really it would. Maybe we could go out on a date, or something."
"Sure ... hey, look, you really don't believe me, do you?"
"Johnny, if you say it, it must be so."
He was dazed. Patsy knew that it was cruel to jerk him around like this, but she knew the locker room mentality that spawned his kind.
She wanted this jock to be securely tied to a leash, and she didn't even want him to notice when she'd slipped the collar around his neck.
"Look, Johnny, I think you'd better go now. Momma will be back soon, and I don't want her to find you here. It'd be difficult to explain. To say nothing of Suzie."
"Huh..oh, yeah. Okay. Listen, can I see you soon. like ... tonight?"
She smiled, with a patronizing air.
"That's sweet. No, that's all right. You don't need to do this."
He looked like he was going to grind his teeth down to the gums.
"But I want to do this!! ! "
"That's sweet. Listen, do you think you could get your clothes on?"
She handed him his shirt and his pants, and he put them on in a kind of grand funk, not really sure what was going on. That's exactly what Patsy wanted, to keep him off guard. He wouldn't comprehend where she was coming from, and so he wouldn't really know how to react.
He dressed quickly, and she walked him to the front door. She took his hand.
"Johnny, I meant it. Thank you for coming over. I had ... a ... great ... time," she said, acting like she was having trouble keeping herself under control.
"Hey look, what did I do to make you like this? I mean, why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying," she said, trying to maintain some dignity.
"Well then...."
"Please Johnny. If you want to see me again, of course, I'd love to see you," she said, indicating by her tone that she didn't think for a second that he'd call her.
Johnny stared at her with a confused look on his face, and then slowly stumbled down the steps to his car and drove off.
Patsy started to laugh.
Johnny Swanson, you dumb sonofabitch quarterback jock ass-hole. I have you by the balls!! !
CHAPTER FOUR
"Who was that young man I saw leaving here this afternoon when I drove up, dear?"
Patsy continued to watch the television. She pretended not to have heard her mother.
"Patsy, I asked you a question."
She still didn't respond.
"PATSY!! "
Patsy turned.
"Huh?"
"Don't you 'huh' me, young lady, or I'll turn you over my knee and-"
"Hey mom, why don't you stick it."
Patsy's mother was momentarily silenced by this. Then she was in the living room and before Patsy knew what was happening, her mother was all over her, slapping whatever she could get her hands on.
"Hey, MOM, cut it out!! ! What do you think you're doing? Ouch, that hurt!! Dammit!! ! That hurts."
It had been several years since Patsy's mother had given her a spanking. Now, it felt very awkward to the lady to be striking her daughter like this, but enough was enough. The little monster was doing drugs, listening to that awful music, and she refused to let her hair grow back out to its normal color....
As a matter-of-fact, thought Mrs. Devlin, that hair was the most visible symbol of her daughter's rebellion.
"All right, young lady, I've had enough. Do you hear me!! I've had enough!! ! "
"Damn you, you stupid whore," Patsy yelled, losing control now.
Her mother surprised her. Years of docile acceptance of virtually anything she'd wanted to do had left her unprepared for this outburst.
Now, her mother shifted into high gear.
She was taking more careful aim, and several sharp blows landed right on Patsy's face.
The girl felt like she had her back against the wall, and the only thing she knew to do was to fight back.
She started to kick, landed a couple of good ones right onto her mother's shins.
"You brat. You stupid BRAT!! ! "
Suddenly, Patsy was lost in a blizzard of hands and feet, all of them seeming to strike her at once. She started to cry. Her body was hurting badly, and she still wasn't sure that she could understand why it was happening. Mother's aren't supposed to behave like this. They were supposed to keep their mouths shut and take whatever you gave them.
"You've been getting out of hand far too long, you little monster, and now I'm going to show you a thing or two."
Patsy was stunned by her mother's fury, and also by the woman's strength.
She had her daughter in a hammer lock now and there was nothing that Patsy could do to break loose. Her mother started to hit her on the face again, and also on the exposed parts of her body, striking her breasts once or twice.
"Mom, please, you're hurting me. Stop it. Stop it STOP IT!! ! "
But Mrs. Devlin couldn't stop. She was releasing years of pent up frustration against her daughter, and against her husband who seemed to care nothing about either of them.
It was a miserable life, and the ultimate indignity had been having to come here to Multon, a nothing town with nothing people, and even though her husband was the manager the new plant for MagnaDyne that had opened up here, and they were among the most affluent in the county, she didn't like the feeling of being a big fish in a little pond.
She yearned for the glamour of Los Angeles again, for the sun and the surf, and the magically tanned bodies of young men, all of whom were more than willing to take a turn with an older woman who cared nothing about attachments....
The only young men here still had cow shit on their boots. It was distressing as hell.
And now, here was this multicolored little bitch who dared to call herself a product of Angela Devlin's womb ... well, if that was the case, this little bitch was going to do some changing, and pretty damn fast. It was long over due.
She had Patsy clamped against the chair in the living room, with her arms pinned behind her.
"You've got a bad attitude, little girl. Do you know that? You've got a very bad attitude indeed. Do you hear me?"
Patsy spit at her.
Angela slapped her face as hard as she could.
Patsy spit again.
Angela slapped her again.
Once again, Patsy spit, although she was losing some of the force that she'd had before.
Angela hit her again, this time with more of her fist.
Patsy started to cry.
"Oh, now you're crying, wanting my sympathy, is that it. Well, you little monster, if you ever want my sympathy again, you're going to ask for it. Do you understand me?"
"I'm sorry, mom," said Patsy.
"Bullshit."
Patsy's eyes widened. It had never occurred to her that her mother was anything other than the prim, reserved lady she seemed to be around family.
"You're not sorry. Not a bit. But I promise you, you're going to be. Do you hear me, you're going to be very sorry. I'm sick and tired of you talking back to me."
She began to slap Patsy without letup now, and the girl went hysterical, screaming and squirming, trying to break free.
It was futile. Angela Devlin wasn't a member of a health spa for nothing. Every day for the past ten years, she'd gone in for her daily work-out, and now, at the age of forty-three, she was in better shape than many girls half her age. She knew it, and she was proud of it. When she looked in the mirror, she saw no where near the amount of lines she'd been afraid that she might see at her age. Her skin was a clear, smooth texture, and her face and not the faintest hint of a sag to it.
Neither did her breasts.
The only bleak element in her life, was the fact that she had a lousy family to deal with. A husband who was next to impotent and didn't even care, and a daughter who didn't care one way or the other about her.
Well, she was going to change that, and she was going to change that tonight.
Keeping Patsy in a hammerlock, she pulled her stockings off.
Patsy right away suspected something out of the ordinary, and began to struggle even more fiercely.
"Stop it, I mean it, stop this squirming, or you'll really regret it." Patsy refused.
Angela said, "I'm sorry about this, I wish you'd given me some other choice," and then reached down and took one of her daughter's ample breasts in her hand.
She squeezed it just as hard as she could, twisting the soft flesh as she did.
Patsy screamed a bloodcurdling cry of anguish, but her body ceased it's struggle.
She lay there, momentarily collapsed in pain and exhaustion, and Angela seized the moment to bind the girl's wrists behind her back, tight and secure.
Then, with the other stocking, she did the same thing to her ankles.
Patsy lay on the floor, bound tight and helpless.
Angela laughed.
It felt good to see her rebellious daughter lying there, looking up at her with a helpless expression on her face.
"Momma, please, don't do this."
"Ha! You don't even know what I'm going to do yet."
Patsy squirmed against her bonds, but saw that it was useless.
"Please, momma, please...."
Angela was starting to calm down now, and for a moment the implications of her outburst left her dazed. She couldn't believe it. After all these years, swallowing her daughter's shit, keeping quiet when there was so much she wanted to say, she suddenly had done exactly what she'd always dreamed of doing.
And now that she'd done it, she was afraid to confont the fact that she didn't know where to go from here.
My God, she thought, how bizarre. I've won, but I don't know how to make the best of it.
She could hear her daughter whimpering on the floor behind her.
She turned. "Shut up. I mean it. Shut up, or you'll get hurt a lot worse than you are now."
Patsy shut up. It made Angela feel very good to suddenly possess a measure of control over the unruly girl.
But still, something needed to be done. It couldn't be brutal, or else she'd blow her credibility completely. But on the other hand, if she didn't do something that would stick in the girl's memory, then she'd have lost all that she'd unexpectedly gained.
She looked down at her daughter. Her alien looking daughter with her rainbow hair....
That's it! She'd cut it off!! !
No, that would be too brutal. No need to humiliate the poor girl.
But she could certainly dye that shit. By God, that's what she'd do. She'd dye that shit, turn her daughter back into a normal looking human being. Maybe she wouldn't act like it, but she'd damn sure look like it.
The minute Angela slid her arms under Patsy's and started to drag the girl upstairs, she began to scream again.
"You can either shut up, or you can make me gag you."
"Mother, you are sick!! ! DO YOU HEAR ME!! ! SICK!! ! ! ! "
"Fine, I'll gag you."
Which is what Angela proceeded to do.
She even used Patsy's own socks for that added touch of humiliation. She balled one of them up after pulling it off her foot and stuffed it in her mouth. The girl tried to bite Angela, but a few sharp slaps halted that behavior.
Then, she took her upstairs to her own bathroom, made her sit next to the tub, and began to pull out the items necessary.
Patsy, as soon as she saw what was getting ready to take place, bolted and tried to run. She fell, of course, but she wiggled enough that Angela realized some further measures would be called for.
"All right, Patsy, since you insist on making this difficult for both of us...."
She looked around, and saw what was called for.
"Get up. Come on! GET UP!! " Patsy cowered.
Angela was forced to reach down and grab her daughter by her hair, yanking hard as she could until Patsy once again stood up. Hatred filled the girl's eyes.
"Oh yes, I can see you hate me. Don't worry little girl, the feeling is quite mutual, let me tell you."
She then, without a second's thought, tore
Patsy's shirt from her body.
Patsy stared at her in utter horror now, convinced that her mother was going to butcher her any moment.
Then, she tried to remove her shorts, but finding that impossible, and not wanting to untie the girl's legs, she decided to leave them on her.
"Get in the tub."
Patsy did not move.
"I said get in the tub!! "
Patsy still did not move.
Angela reached out and took a nipple in each hand. She began to pinch, starting out lightly, and steadily increasing the pressure until it was excruciating.
Patsy began to shake, but still she did not make a move to get into the tub. Angela continued to pinch her daughter's nipples, finding it much more enjoyable than she would have dared predicted.
Harder and harder, until with a massive jolt, Patsy collapsed, shaking and gasping.
Angela calmly lifted her into the tub, and then she pulled the belt from a robe that was hanging behind the door. It was long, long enough to pass around the stocking that bound her daughter's wrists, and then pass over the bar that held the shower curtain....
Patsy offered no resistance.
When Angela had finished, her daughter was bent far over, with her arms up in the air, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction, for fear that she'd pull her arms out of their sockets.
Angela laughed.
"You'll find that I can be pushed only so far ... " she said, opening the bottle of hair dye, laughing some more....
The doorbell rang. Angela answered it and saw that it was the young man she'd seen driving off today as she'd driven up. Or at least, it looked like him.
He was very polite.
"Um ... you must be Patsy's mother. I was wondering if she might be home."
"Yes she is, but I don't think she'll be wanting to see anyone. She's been ill. Won't you come in though. I'll check."
"Thank you, ma'am. My name's Johnny Swanson."
"Aren't you the quarterback for the high school football team?"
He blushed. "Yes'm. I am."
"I see. And you're coming to see ... Patsy?"
"Well, yes ma'am, that is, if she's able to see anyone."
"I'll check."
Angela walked upstairs, wondering furiously what her daughter was doing with a handsome stud like that. It was definitely not in keeping with her character, or with that of the usual fare of suitor that came around. What was the name of that last moron ... Sot Madden? Lord, what a retarded piece of shit!
She knocked on Patsy's door.
There was no answer.
She turned the doorknob and walked in. Patsy lay on the bed with her back toward Angela. Even from that angle, Angela could see that her daughter's more natural brunette color had taken admirably. The multiple dye might make it a little frizzy, but at least it was better than the splotched patchwork that she'd been wearing.
"There's a Johnny Swanson downstairs. Says he wants to see you."
Patsy turned over slightly.
"He's down there?"
"Um-hmmm. What should I tell him?"
She rolled back.
"Tell him you'd like to fuck him. He's about your speed."
Angela was seized by a flash of anger, and she wanted at that moment to take her daughter apart.
Patsy continued, "You thought I never knew what you were doing behind daddy's back in California? Hell, I knew half the guys you fucked."
Angela was shocked. Somehow, she knew that her daughter was not bluffing. For one thing, she'd been very careful. The only way Patsy would have known....
Oh my God, she thought, what have I done.
Then Patsy turned around. "Look, I don't like Daddy any more than you do. I wouldn't say anything now if I didn't say anything then. I'm not as petty as you are."
She rolled back over. Angela was truly taken aback. Her daughter was full of surprises, it seemed.
"So, you don't want to see him?"
"No. But I'm telling you, if you want to go after him, you ought to. He's real fresh."
"That's enough, Patsy."
"Yes Mother," she said, a bored tone in her voice.
She walked out of her daughter's bedroom, a strange mixture of emotions racing through her. In a sense, it was a great load lifted from her shoulders. She'd always been so frightened of discovery ... to realize that she'd been discovered, and that it had happened long ago ... it was a kind of freedom, actually.
Her daughter knew!
That was incredible. Utterly incredible. Whatever was she going to do about it?
Well, the first thing she was going to do was to get that young man out of her house.
She walked back down, and found herself distracted almost without even realizing it by the sight of his well muscled arms, the thick bulging tendons in his neck ... he was a fine physical specimen. There was no doubt about that.
"Patsy's not feeling well. She says that she's sorry, but she really can't see you tonight."
His disappointment was obvious.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Do, uh, you think that she'll be in school tomorrow?"
"Well, I don't know. That will depend on how he feels tomorrow, I would think."
He nodded, but seemed reluctant to leave.
"Have you known Patsy for long?"
"Oh, uh, well, sure. I mean, since she moved here and all ... but we didn't actually get to be friends till, uh, recently, uh, that is...."
"I see." Angela lit a cigarette. "Recently being ... today?"
He started to look very uncomfortable.
"Well, uh, I mean, that is...."
"Today," Angela answered for him.
"Well, yes. I mean, we'd never gone out on a date or anything, and uh, well, like I said, we sort of got to know each other better today and I just wanted to see if she might like to, uh, go get a soda ... or something like that."
Angela started to laugh.
"Young man, getting a soda was a dubious cover story when I was a little girl. I seriously doubt that they even have genuine sodas any more. Tell me, where are your wits."
"Ma'am?"
"Oh cut it out. Are you screwing my daughter or aren't you?" His mouth hit his lap.
"Why the surprise. I'm sure you found my daughter to be somewhat progressive. Am I right? Well, does it surprise you that she comes from a progressive household?"
Johnny looked like a fish out of water.
"Your embarrassment is showing. Maybe you'd better go. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But in the future, if you're going to come for my daughter to take her out and fuck her, you should lay your groundwork a lot better."
Johnny seemed hopelessly confused.
Angela paused a moment. "Would you like something to drink."
"Ma'am?"
"Oh, give me a break. Don't you have any other reply than that? I've never gotten used to this phony Southern gentility."
Poor Johnny. He was no match for Patsy, but against her mother, he was an utter wreck.
"Well, do you want a drink or don't you. You aren't going to bullshit me about not drinking, are you? I know all you jocks drink. It makes you think you're men. Am I right?"
"Listen, I have to go, I think."
"Maybe. But I'd be willing to bet that you won't. You're too interested in finding out what's on my mind. It's even occurred to you that I may be making a pass at you, and if you want to know the honest truth, you may be right."
"Ma'am?"
He was completely out of his element now.
"Oh, I'm not saying that I'd ever actually let anything take place between us ... but don't try to kid me into thinking that you wouldn't take advantage of the situation if I offered it."
She purposely moved very close to him. "Would you?"
"Urn ... I have to go."
"Bathroom's down the hall to your right."
"Ma'am?"
"Ma'am!! ! ! Ma'am!! ! MA'AM MA'AM MA'AM!! ! Cut it out, would you"
He looked utterly lost. "I don't understand...."
"You know, you are one of the most humorless young men that I've ever met. Whatever made my daughter want to fuck you?"
"I'll tell you what," said Patsy from the doorway. "He was over here hoping he could fuck Suzie, and I wanted to prove that I could get someone away from her."
Angela looked at Johnny. "You thought you could get my other daughter into bed? Nonsense. No one gets her into bed. She's in training to be a nun."
Patsy regarded her mother with open curiosity.
Johnny was staring at her hair.
"What happened...."
"To my hair? I had a little accident," she said, sitting down next to Angela, who was regarding her daughter with a mixture of confusion and respect.
"I think I'd better go."
"Why," asked Patsy, "things are just getting interesting, don't you think?"
Patsy turned to Angela. "Didn't I tell you? He's just your type."
Angela grinned, after a moment's hesitation. "You know, I think you might just be Tight."
Angela stared at Patsy with a mixture of shock and pleasure. My God, she thought, it's true. All you need to do to get your children's respect is to show them who's boss. She'd never expected the transformation to be so quick, or so seemingly total, but there was no doubt in her mind that the look in Patsy's eye was one that had not been there for years. The girl was staring back at her, and for the first time that Angela could remember, Patsy didn't look like she was bored, annoyed, disgusted, or trying to plot something.
Of couse, she may just have been turned on by the idea of the two of them seducing this rather timid looking quarterback, come to think of it. That would appeal to Patsy's kinks in a way that mere rebellion could never do.
It didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that, for whatever the reason, Angela found herself intrigued by the idea. Utterly intrigued.
She had a flashback ... to Los Angeles, to sun, to white sand, to bronzed bodies and brick-like muscles.
She remembered herself, looking ten years younger than her thirty-eight, or thirty-nine or forty years ... wearing the smallest bikinis that the law would let her get away with.
It was always so easy to pick one of them up. They're attention was already guaranteed. There was nothing that she needed to do; no eye contact that needed to be established, no come on. The incredibly tiny patch of material covering her crotch, surrounded by smooth, tanned, clean flesh, could only mean that she shaved her pussy. That alone was enough to raise eyebrows and attract attention. For why else would a woman go to the trouble of shaving her pussy, and then being so obvious about it, if she hadn't intended it as bait?
But her breasts, scarcely contained behind the thin straps and small bits of material (large enough to cover her nipples, but not much else) were the final payoff.
She would simply walk down the beach, checking out the bodies from behind the protective shades that she wore (tinted a jet black), and when she saw one that particularly appealed to her, and that seemed to be particularly fascinated by her outfit, she would merely drop something ... it seldom mattered what. The point was to pop out of the halter, something that took virtually no prompting whatsoever.
That was usually all it took. Then, when she was absolutely certain that they were staring, and hard, she would walk right up to them. Occasionally, that would prove to be too direct an assault, but those were not the men she'd be interested in anyway. The ones she wanted were ripe, ready for action, and sporting enormous bulges beneath their briefs, bulges that they were not afraid to show off. When you're in the market for sex, you go for the proven product. It's the only method.
"Excuse me," she would say, a small self-deprecating grin on her face, "but I seem to have locked myself out of my car. I don't know if I left my keys inside there or what, but I have an extra set hidden under my front seat. You don't suppose you could help me break into my car, do you?"
Sometime during the course of having a coat hanger stuck between the side window, and actually springing the lock, an embarrassed discovery would take place.
"Oh my God, do I feel silly. You're not going to believe this...."
At least she hoped they wouldn't believe it. Anyone stupid enough to believe that the whole thing had been an accident was not the type that appealed to her.
They never did. Would they care for ... perhaps a drink, just out of gratitude for their trouble? They always accepted. It became a ritual, one not practiced often, but one that she got amazingly adept at performing.
She made appearances too seldom to become a recognized fixture. Each new encounter had always been new, unexpected, and anonymous. That's the way she'd liked it.
But of course, she had two daughters and a husband to worry about, too. She couldn't very well just flaunt such behavior, not if she wanted to keep her lifestyle.
But now, one of those reasons was a partner in the deed ... that altered the equation somewhat. But she still felt a little strange, actually sitting in her living room contemplating a combined seduction with her daughter. It made no sense. For that very reason, it appealed to her sense of the absurd. It made her giddy. It made her body tingle with the thrill of doing the unheard of, of performing the unthinkable act.
In a town like Multon, Fla., there were a lot of unthinkable acts. That's what made it all the more fun. There were so many ways that one could play with fire here, if that's what was preferred.
Johnny Swanson was making moves to get up and leave.
"Please," said Angela, glancing once more at Patsy to make certain that she read her daughter's intentions correctly, "don't leave just yet. We really would like you to stay."
"Listen, Patsy," said Johnny, ignoring Mrs. Devlin, "Let's just call all this off. I'm sorry about today if that upset you, but I don't think this is very funny. Not at all."
"Don't think what's very funny?" asked the girl innocently.
"Tell me about today, Patsy," said Mrs. Devlin, well aware that that was the question that had originally made things between them blow as badly as they did.
Patsy now grinned devilishly. "I just showed Johnny a few things that he'd never thought about before."
Johnny looked shocked. "What, do you tell your old lady everything?"
"My 'old lady', as you put it, could shock you right out of your skin, I'll bet."
Angela realized that Patsy was speaking with a tone of awe and respect in her voice. How amazing. The one side of her nature that she'd always been scrupulous about hiding from her daughter was the one that succeeded best in gaining her respect.
"Look, I'm just going to leave, if that's all right with you two ladies...."
Johnny was backing up now, inching towards the door, a look of uncertainty and fear on his face. Angela felt it necessary to reassure him.
She also felt it necessary to physically lure him.
She stood up, and quickly moving around behind the chair that Johnny had been sitting in, effectively cut him off from any further escape from the room. He started to look actually frightened.
"Look, I don't know what all this is about, but honest to God, I didn't hurt your daughter." He looked back at Patsy, eyes wide with fear. "Tell her. Go on. Tell her that you forced it. You wouldn't let me leave. Go on, tell her."
He was getting a little hysterical now, and Patsy looked a little confused herself.
"Johnny, what are rattling on about? She knows you didn't hurt me, and take my word for it, she can tell that I initiated anything that went on between us. You miss the point entirely."
Angela, standing between Johnny and the front door spoke. "Johnny, if you really want to go, you can. We won't stop you. But I'm going to speak frankly, and I'd like you to listen to me, very closely."
He stared, seeming to be mesmerized by the sound of her voice. "Are you listening?"
Johnny nodded.
Patsy giggled when he nodded.
"What's funny," he asked her, indignantly.
"I think you already know."
"That's it. I don't need this," he said, and turned around to go. Angela blocked the doorway. She was not going to let him pass. At that moment, her mind was somewhat confused as to what the best approach would be, but she knew that she was going to have to do something that would short circuit the anger and fear that was propelling him out the door.
She began to unbutton her blouse, talking all the while.
"Johnny, I get the impression that my daughter gave you an experience today that you might not have been very familiar with. I get the impression that you feel a little strange about it ... you shouldn't. There's absolutely nothing at all that's unhealthy about exploring your body and discovering the joy of sexual experience. It's a God-given joy that should not be denied."
Her blouse, though still tucked into her skirt, was now unbuttoned to the waist. Johnny moaned as he watched her flesh grow more and more exposed.
The two fleshy mounds of her breasts bobbled into view, although the folds of her opened blouse, held in place by the waistband of her skirt, remained partially closed around them. But Johnny knew exactly what was going on underneath the material. The knowledge was giving him a very intense hard-on. It bulged through his jeans, sticking out very prominently, and what looked to be very painfully.
"Johnny, like I said, "Angela went on, "you're free to leave. But I think you'll be denying yourself of an experience that some men go their entire lives without enjoying. Although they all dream of it. Haven't you, one time or another? Haven't you wanted to make love to two women, satisfying them both at the same time? Can you imagine it?"
She opened her blouse, and began to toy with the catch on her bra, between her two breasts. Johnny's eyes were riveted to her fingers, and he seemed to almost lick his lips in anticipation. He wanted to see that bra pop open. He wanted to see those two breasts pop into view. He wasn't going anyplace until he did, either, and Angela would have bet hard cash on that.
"Can't you imagine the feeling it would give you? This is something I'd bet your father hasn't even done, Johnny, and I'll bet he'd love to."
Patsy thought of cold, staid, sterile Mr. Swanson in history class, and wanted to laugh. But she'd already learned how Johnny reacted to laughter when he was trying to get aroused. The man simply had no sense of humor when it came to sex.
Angela popped the catch on the two large cups that held her breasts in place.
Johnny's eyes widened even more, as he waited to see them bouncing free ... but she held them together with her hand, as she continued to speak to the boy.
"What do you want to do, Johnny? Do you want to leave? Is that what you want to do?"
Behind him, still on the couch, Patsy watched all this unfold with obvious glee. Talk about violating your taboos!! This was the all time grand slam, as far as she was concerned. She'd no idea her mom was such a horny, hip lady. But boy! She sure was handling this guy, and doing a first rate job.
She felt that the time was right for her to enter the conversation, but she was afraid that Johnny would think they were ganging up on him, and really bolt.
But she was getting quite caught up in the erotic atmosphere, perticularly watching her mother slowly disrobe like that and entice Johnny more and more. It was clear that she'd done the job. Johnny was totally in her spell. But then, he was also in her own spell. She mustn't forget that. That's the reason the lunk came back tonight. He couldn't wait even a day. He was hot and horny, and there was no two ways about it.
Well, then, if it would frighten the poor fool to have the two of them gang up on him, why not do something that would make him even hornier?
She slowly unzipped her jeans and loosened the material, pulling them down her thighs just enough to make sure that she could get her hand between them.
Angela saw what she was doing, looked her daughter in the eyes, again feeling a sense of strange joy that the two of them could be fulfilling such a twisted fantasy together. The evening had already been the most bizarre she'd ever spent in her life, but it wasn't over yet, not by any means.
Not if they had their way.
She let the cups of her bra fall apart, and as her breasts popped out and bobbed gently on her body, she lowered the material of her blouse, pulling it down her shoulders, finally slipping her arms out and letting it hang from her waist. The straps of her bra were next, and she let them fall down her firm, naked shoulders, and let it drop to the floor.
She gave them a pert shake, and Johnny was done in. It was all over, as far as he was concerned. Angela could see it, Patsy could see it, and if he couldn't see it yet, he would soon enough.
Angela stepped up to the boy and draped her arms over his shoulders.
"Johnny, I want you to just relax. This is going to be the most memorable evening you've ever spent, and if you live another fifty, years, I can confidently say that you'll have a hard time topping it."
He licked his lips, trying to moisten them. They seemed to have dried out from the tension.
She felt the thick muscles in his shoulders, all knotted and solid ... she knew that he was well developed, and that his muscle tone was supposed to be good, but this was purely from tension. The boy was one clenched knuckle.
She let her fingers begin a soft pressing motion against what felt to be the hardest cord of muscle, running almost along the entire width of his shoulders.
"Mmmmmmmm, that feels so tense, so full of tension ... you really should just relax, take it easy, let yourself unwind...."
She began to knead the hard muscle like it was a piece of dough. "Yes ... I feel how hard it is. You're in great shape, did you know that ... but you shouldn't let yourself get so worked up."
"Mom," said Patsy, and Johnny's attention momentarily flagged as he glanced back to the girl who'd deflowered him that very afternoon, "I can think of one muscle that you'll want to keep hard."
Angela grinned impishly. "Ah yes. The muscle of love. How is that muscle," she asked Johnny, reaching down between his legs. She pressed the flat of her palm against his jeans, and felt the point where his glans, sticking straight out from his body, was jammed tight against his thick denim pants.
"Ummmmm, isn't that a little uncomfortable?" she asked him.
Still not really able to figure out what was going on. Johnny nodded.
"He doesn't talk much Mom," Patsy said, giggling again, but with none of the taunting flavor or her earlier teasings that she'd subjected the boy to. "He just sort of stands there and watches."
"Oh ... well, in that case, why don't we let him watch something that will do him some good."
Patsy understood what her mom was talking about right away.
She started to pull her jeans down even further. Johnny was staring at her now, watching her head, for the most part. Patsy had almost forgotten the violent scene that had taken place between her and her mother earlier that afternoon.
The fact that they were getting ready to have such a good time together was something that she'd never have thought possible. Most likely it was the way her mom had reacted when she'd shot that crack at her about fucking all those beach bums in LA. It was something that she'd never known how to bring up with her mother, and now that it was out in the open, it seemed all of a sudden that they had some common ground. Hell, they'd even fucked some of the same guys! And now, they were getting ready to formalize the situation. It was exciting. There was no other way to look at it. It was darned exciting.
She pulled her jeans down past her knees. For some reason, she put on a pair of underwear that evening, after finally drying off from the shower that she'd had to take after getting her hair dried. Her arms still hurt a little, and so did her cheeks, but her mother hadn't hit her as hard as it had felt like at the time ... most likely, the only thing that had been really hurt had been her pride.
She wiggled out of her jeans now, and felt Johnny's eyes boring into her crotch. The poor fool. He didn't have a chance. It was a little cruel to be treating him like this, but he must have been horny as hell. To stumble upon such a sex-feast, was something that no male could refuse, particularly one who was just waking up to the world of fucking.
Angela stood behind Johnny now, and wrapped her arms around his waist and started to unbutton his shirt.
He offered no resistance at all. Not knowing what to say, he seemed to be content to say nothing.
That was, as a matter-of-fact, fine with Patsy. She found him intellectually vapid, and much better to simply watch than to have to listen to.
Angela now had his shirt off.
"Oh my," she said enthusiastically, would you look at this chest."
She stepped around to the front of him and gazed appreciatively at his well structured chest. She let her fingers roam freely over the surface of his skin, playing a little with his chest hairs, tickling his nipples.
"You're a very well built young man," she said, repeating herself, but she felt that it might be necessary to give Jlim a little confidence. He was inexperienced and had seemed to genuinely distrust their motives. Best to just let him know up front that there was only one reason for this scene ... that was to get all three of them laid. Fully, completely, and with as little confusion as possible. She recalled how easily she'd managed to pull it off in California. This was all the way across the country, but she had no reason to suspect that it would be any more difficult here. Not if he was willing.
Which, he seemed to be.
His eyes kept jumping from her bulbous breasts, swaying gently with every move her body made, to Patsy's crotch, the black hairs showing through her sheer panties. Angela had a quick flash of her husband coming home ... or Suzie. It would never do, for either one of them to walk in. Thank God her husband was away on a business trip and Suzie was at the library. She always stayed out late on
Wednesdays, and then usually went over to her friend's house and just spent the night there, since it was right across the street from the school. Angela had never believed in keeping a tight rein on her children, no matter what it was that they wanted to do. It was far better that way. Maybe they'd get themselves in trouble, but it was the best way for them to learn.
She reached down to Johnny's crotch, unbuckled his belt and pulled his zipper down. His cock seemed to be straining hard for room, and she imagined that it must have been quite painful for him. How did they do it, she wondered. How did young boys get along with those awkward, clumsy things, with their erections popping up at all kinds of odd moments during the day, and their balls always feeling like they needed to be emptied. It was something that she'd never understood, the male genitalia, but she'd always been grateful for it.
Johnny's cock now poked through his zipper like a battering ram. The head was swollen, and a deep purple in color. She unbuttoned his jeans and gently pulled them down his legs.
"Urn ... " he interjected, uncertainly.
"Yes?" asked Angela, looking up at him with a smile.
"Is this ... I mean ... are you sure this is ... I mean ... all shucks, I don't know what I mean."
"We know," said Patsy, standing up and taking her shirt off. "Isn't it lucky for you that we do?"
Patsy's perky little titties sprung out from under her shirt as though they were on springs.
And Johnny's cock seemed to have a spring coiled tight near the base of it. With luck he'd feel that spring twang, like a snapping G-string.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Come here, Patsy," said Angela, holding her hand out to her daughter.
The girl took her place beside her mother, and the two gorgeous women stood before Jack, a fulfillment of every fantasy that he'd ever had.
Why then, he wondered, was he so goddamned nervous!
It was obvious that these were simply two crazy ladies, the mother even more than her daughter. Damn! He wished that he could just get into the spirit of things. They were horny. That's all there was too it. It had been the case this afternoon, when Patsy, the school Punkette, had raped him silly. He'd be forever indebted to her for that, no matter how crazy she really was. God that had been incredible. And she really knew what she was doing too.
And now, here was her mother, coming on even stronger, and some kind of weird shit going on between the two of them....
And here was his cock sticking out straight as a board, and two women with their tits all bared and bouncing as free as you'd ever want.
He couldn't keep from staring at their bodies. Which was the point, after all. He wasn't too experienced, and he'd be the first to admit it, and here it wouldn't do any good to deny it because they knew it anyway.
But he was smart enough to realize that this was indeed the chance of a lifetime. They were hot for his ass. They wanted to fuck him!
Wasn't that, after all, the reason he'd come back over here tonight?
Damn straight it was. He wanted to get a little more of that sweet punk ass from Patsy ... who, now that she'd gotten rid of that weird hair, was even prettier than he'd already decided she was this afternoon when he'd seen her with her clothes off.
But Mrs. Devlin ... God what a knockout.
Big rounded breasts, that didn't sag a bit. Firm, solid, quivering with lots of tight little ripples every time she moved ... she seemed to have this technique down cold for turning her body in short quick jerks, but that didn't look jerky. The clue was the way her tits would shake wildly, even when she'd just turned smooth and easy to look over her shoulder....
Oh God, here they come....
"Johnny," said Angela, once more taking her cock in his hand, "we think you should get a little more comfortable. What do you say?"
Patsy knelt down and gently lifted his feet out of his jeans, that were crumpled around his ankles.
Then she pulled his shorts off of his body, and suddenly, Johnny was naked as a jaybird. He felt a chill wind blowing over his cock, and then he realized that it was Patsy's mouth, and that the wind wasn't actually chilled ... actually, it was hot, and her breath was caressing him the way her tongue soon would be.
Angela looked down at her daughter, and then looked at Johnny. "She's a little impulsive, as you can see. Patsy dear, why don't we save that for later. I think Johnny's so tense, and needs to relax so much that we might consider ... something a little more indirect in the way of stimulation ... if you follow my drift."
Patsy stood up. "Not really," she said, "but I'm open to suggestions."
Angela brushed her daughter's face. "Well darling, I feel a little bad about that unpleasantness that took place between us earlier this evening ... I'd like to see if perhaps there's not something I could do that would even things up a little."
"You don't have to apologize, Mom. I was a snot and I admit it."
"I'm not apologizing, dear. But I hurt you, and now I'd like to see if I couldn't perhaps give you a little pleasure...."
She was slowly undoing the clasp at the side of her skirt as she spoke to her daughter. Johnny stared at her body as it was suddenly revealed almost totally to him. She was wearing a pair of incredibly tiny briefs, nearly see through, that simply covered her crotch and ran between her legs....
He was standing to the side of her, and as he looked closely, he realized that unlike Patsy, there was no darkening patch of pubic hair rising up from between her legs.
Angela turned to him and saw that he was staring at her.
"Do you like my pussy, Johnny? Have you ever seen a shaved pussy before?"
Patsy was looking with almost as much interest as Johnny.
"You know, I've never seen it before either," she said, "although I've heard about it."
Angela gave her daughter a wry grin.
"Yes ... I suppose you have, haven't you."
She slowly peeled the briefs down her body, letting them fall to the floor. She stepped out of them and ran her fingers up the insides of her thighs, up along both of her pussy lips, and then ran them back down again.
"I love to touch my body. Why don't you come here, Johnny, and see if you can understand why."
Johnny reached a tentative hand towards her crotch, and touched her.
It was as if she'd just shaved. There wasn't a single nub to be felt. The skin around her cunt was smooth as a baby's ass.
She smiled as he probed his fingertips around her crotch, and then she reached down, grabbed his wrist and guided his fingers more directly into her slit.
It was warm and wet.
"Feel that?" she asked. "Feel how much juice there is? There's plenty more where that came from."
Then she took his hand away from her crotch and brought it up to her breasts.
"Feel me. Feel my body. Touch me. Tell me that I feel good. I want to hear you say that I feel good!"
He found that it was difficult to say the words. She did feel good, better than he'd ever expected. But he still felt awkward as hell, standing there with his dick hanging out, feeling up the mother of one of his fellow students....
But those were a pair of the finest tits he'd ever seen. The women in magazines had absolutely nothing on this lady. Her nipples were stiff, and seemed to be growing stiffer as he let his fingers close around them.
She really seemed to be enjoying herself. He could tell that she just liked to have her body admired, and it seemed to give her as much pleasure to have Patsy watching her as for him to be doing it.
But he kept bringing his gaze back to that shaved pussy.
Never had he seen anything so wonderful, so amazing, so bizarre! And she was so delicious, so warm so wet! He wanted her, he wanted Patsy, he wanted to slurp up her juice, and he wished that he had two dicks so he could fuck them both at the same time.
Finally, Patsy's mother stepped back, took her daughter by the hand and led her to the couch.
"Come here, Johnny, I want to show you something," said Angela.
Johnny followed uncertainly, and stood off to the side, while Angela had Patsy sit on the couch.
She placed her hand on the inside of each thigh, and gently spread them apart.
"Now scoot down a little ... that's it," she said as Patsy complied with her wishes, do this to me, and I want you to learn correctly."
Johnny remained standing, but Angela laughed at him. "You're too shy. Come on boy, we're all naked here, and we have nothing to hide. This is no time to get shy on us, do you understand?"
She took him by the hand and pulled him down.
He brought his head up close. Patsy's cunt was mere inches from his nose. He could smell a thick scent wafting off her entire pubic area, heavy as earlier, but with a touch more perfume scent. He surmised that she'd taken a shower, but that her pussy, like her mother's, was just naturally juicy. He remembered that afternoon, the first time he'd stuck his fingers inside it, he'd been amazed to feel the juice pouring around his hand.
How, he looked closely and could see that the material of her panties was wet, soaking, actually, and then the imprint of her two lips pouting closely together was easily seen beneath the material.
Angela slipped a finger underneath the elastic of her right leg band and pulled it across Patsy's crotch.
Johnny's cock started to throb as soon as he saw that familiar pussy spring into view.
She was already getting hot and worked up. The flesh around her lips was shiny from her juice, and he could see that her clitoris was erect and sticking between her lips at the top of her slit.
Angela placed her fingers on either side of Patsy's pussy, spread her cunt-lips apart, and as her clit popped fully to attention, she extended the tip of her tongue towards that stiffened bud of tortured nerve endings.
Johnny remembered the workout that he'd given it. It seemed ready for one equally as intense, more in fact. Patsy was insatiable, Johnny was coming to suspect.
He watched closely to see how Angela did it.
She let the tip of her tongue touch the very top of Patsy's clit, and flicked it from side to side. Johnny could see that there was almost no pressure at all.
Her tongue just kept flicking back and forth, with a feather-light touch. He couldn't even see her clit moving from the contact, so slight was it.
But he certainly noticed a reaction.
The second Angela's tongue began to flick across Patsy's clit, the girl's hips started to roll sensuously in counterpoint against her mother's face.
Angela continually pulled back, even though from the very start Patsy was trying to increase the pressure by pushing her hips towards Angela's face.
She continued to flick her tongue back and forth, keeping her head still.
Then, in a variation, she held her tongue rigidly in her mouth and started to shake her head violently back and forth against her daughter's clit.
"Oh momma, that's wonderful, so good, so good ... " she moaned.
Johnny felt the pressure in his balls increase dramatically. He'd never seen two women getting it on before, except in movies and in books. It had always seemed a little strange to him.
But now he realized that it was maybe even more natural than a man and a woman.
Mother and daughter seemed to be two different versions of the same phenomenon.
There was even a strong resemblance between them.
Patsy's breasts were shaking now, quivering harder and harder as her mother's tongue drove her higher and higher into ecstatic flights of pleasure.
Johnny wanted his turn. He wanted to lick that pussy again.
But then, his eyes followed the slim curve of her mother's body, tracing the curve of her back, down to where it split at her buttocks. Her ass was gorgeous, each cheek firm yet dainty and small. He hated big-assed women. Neither of these qualified for that designation.
He reached out and touched Angela.
It felt strange. He wasn't sure if that was what he was supposed to do.
But then, who'd ever said anything about a rule book?
You did whatever you felt like doing.
That's what it was all about, wasn't it?
"Oh, yes, touch me, Johnny, touch my body. Stroke me."
Angela sounded like she really meant it. Her breathing was coming in shorter bursts small tortured gasps that she was able to suck into her lungs every time she pulled her face out of Patsy's cunt to come up for air.
Johnny got up on his knees and studied the naked, perfectly formed body beneath him.
Patsy's two legs extended along either side of her mother's body.
Her pelvis was arched high in the air, so that
Angela's tongue was almost pointing straight down to make contact with her clit.
He focused on the back of Angela's neck. Her hair hung down over one shoulder and he could see part of her neck exposed.
He leaned over and began to nibble at her skin.
He felt her body respond.
She gasped, "Ohhhhh, that's it! Yes, keep it up, please, keep it up."
He licked along the exposed flesh with his tongue, around and up to her left ear lobe.
He let the stiffened tip of his tongue glide easily along the rim of her lobe.
"Less is more," he remembered Patsy telling him.
All right, he thought to himself, let's see how true that is.
He imitated Angela's tongue, the way it had slipped back and forth over Patsy's clit, without the faintest trace of pressure, and almost without making contact at all.
Lightly, ever so lightly!
Angela started to shiver as soon as his tongue touched her, and as he let it run along the entire rim, she began to moan and suddenly a shudder ripped through her.
She pulled away from Patsy's cunt, shuddering and shivering.
"Oh my God, what you're doing to me, boy. That's perfect. You learn fast."
"Yeah ... well, I had a couple of good teachers, I guess."
"You guess? Boy, you damn well better know it!" said Angela jokingly.
Johnny saw that her breasts seemed to be pointing right up at him.
Sort of begging for it, you might say.
He leaned down before she could regain her position at Patsy's crotch, and took one of her nipples into her mouth.
Angela was going to push him away, but then the sensation of his mouth hit her, and she realized just how long it had been since she'd been truly laid, properly.
Her body was one that needed attention, constant attention, and there was no substitute for a good, healthy, willing man. She'd decided that long ago.
Well, she surely seemed to have a willing man here, but whether or not he was as able as she'd want, would remain to be seen.
The fact Was, however, that as long as he was sucking on her tits like that, and doing it so well, she wasn't moving.
Well, now that sort of presented a problem, because Patsy had been well on the way to an earth shattering orgasm. Her mother had a deft touch when it came to licking clits, and her body had been going more and more rigid.
Each flick of Angela's tongue had sent sharp, intense sensations racing all through her daughter's body, and each one had pushed her closer and closer to orgasm.
Which meant that the poor girl was kind of just hanging there in limbo now.
She sat up, saw the situation and immediately got off the sofa and straddled her mother's head, facing down towards her cunt.
She lowered her body down onto Angela's mouth once more, and this time found that her lips and teeth and tongue were working much more furiously than before.
The first had been a demonstration ... one that was enjoyable, no doubt, but a demonstration all the same.
Now, she was feeling the physical results of Johnny's mouth on Angela's tits.
Patsy could tell that it was filling her mother with passion. She was a lot more mindless about sucking her clit, letting her tongue race up into her wet hole, and scraping her teeth all through that swampy mass of pink flesh than she'd been earlier.
Give Johnny credit where it's due, thought Patsy to her self. If this was any indication of his technique, he'd definitely learned his lessons that afternoon well. He must be driving her mother nuts!
Patsy felt her gooey hole just keep getting gooier and gooier and gooier.
She felt her mother's tongue sliding in and out, ripping through the entire length of her slit, and she felt hands pawing at her breasts, although whose hands, Angela's or Johnny's, she couldn't have said.
She only felt the probing fingers, the sharp edge of the nails scraping along her skin ... it felt good, it felt exciting, if made her feel like she was truly experiencing things for a change.
"Oh, yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes," she moaned, feeling her mother's tongue start a particularly rapid fluttering motion inside her pussy.
"It feels wonderful," she moaned, and felt her entire body starting to respond.
Johnny felt it too, for her thigh was pressed right against his face.
He also felt her mother's body responding, even though the only direct stimulation she was receiving was the nipple that he was sucking on.
She must really love getting her tits sucked. But then, that's something that every woman loves. He guessed it was because that was the first thing that they start letting guys do to them. Long before they let their dates get their fingers wet, and years before they're fucking them, they're letting them suck on their tits.
Hell, even Mary Ellen Rogers let him suck on her tits.
But a woman like Angela needed something more. Something far more than just getting her tits sucked.
That was all right, sort of as a warm up.
But she'd be waiting for the main course, and she would not want to be disappointed.
Not fucking hardly.
Yesterday, he'd have felt inadequate to the task.
Tonight, he still wasn't sure of himself. But he was willing to try, and that was the main thing.
He started to stroke further down on her body, letting the tips of his fingers drift over her stomach, which he could feel fluttering in response to his touch, down, further, further, till he was touching her naked pussy lips.
They were delicious to his touch!
It had never occurred to him that women actually shaved their pussies, outside of fuck flicks, that is.
But this pussy was naked as a baby's, and it was the strangest thing, and. the most fascinating thing he'd ever encountered with women.
All right, all right, there hadn't been all that many things that he'd encountered with women, he knew, but he had a feeling that a naked pussy might well remain one of the strangest.
She began to dramatically increase the motion of her hips as soon as he started to touch her pussy.
He went right for her clitoris, locating it easily between her lips, and felt around to make sure that he had the dimensions right.
He'd only read about clits. Until this afternoon when he'd slipped his finger into Patsy's wet slit, he'd never actually come in contact with one.
They were still very strange creatures to him.
Tiny.
So tiny, it was hard for him to believe that they could produce all that passionate lust all through a woman's body.
And they weren't all that easy to pin down.
They seemed to be buried underneath lots of layers of flesh, and all kinds of gooey feeling membranes, and it wasn't all that easy to tell exactly where they stopped and the rest of her pussy began.
He remembered that Angela had pulled Patsy's lips apart.
That was the best idea, just follow what she'd done, and he couldn't go wrong.
He finally let her nipple slip out of her mouth, and began to lick his way down her body, feeling her respond to every tactile stimulation.
He licked across the flat plain of her stomach, and once again felt her abdomen fluttering as the muscles went into spasmodic contractions from the arousal.
He came closer and closer to her pussy, and then, saw the flesh of her body begin to split. It was a totally absorbing sight, a phenomenon that he couldn't quite come to terms with, that fact that women's bodies actually opened up ... it didn't quite seem right ... but who was he to argue?
Someone with far greater insight than he had planned things that way, and it would be all he could handle to just come to terms with the situation.
As her flesh split into two thick lips, each one a darker shade of red than the skin surrounding it, he began to see that her juices were coating the entire area, growing thicker and slicker and more oily the further down her slit he examined.
It seemed to be some kind of separate organism, with a life of its own.
It moved, each lip pressing against the other one, and then releasing the tension, as if it was breathing, or perhaps chewing.
He knew what he'd love for it to be chewing, and pretty soon, he'd stick it in, and let it go to work.
But first, he wanted to study it more.
He'd never imagined that a pussy could be so complicated!
Layer after layer of glistening pink membranes, all folded on themselves, and tightly compacted into the small space between her legs, for maximum efficiency.
He slid a finger along the surface of her slit.
She moaned and her hips shook.
She tried to say something, but her mouth was too filled with Patsy's pussy, and she gave up.
Johnny slipped his finger in further, and when it met resistance, he ran it along her membranes until he came to the opening buried within her inner lips.
He spread her outer lips a little, until he could see all of her flaming pink flesh, and then he let his finger slip in.
It went in all the way to his knuckles, and he still hadn't touched the back wall.
"You're bottomless," he told her.
She chuckled. "That's why I need a real man to service me. Do you think you'll fill the bill?"
"Why don't you ask Patsy? She's already felt my cock in her."
"He's pretty good," Patsy agreed, " but then, I've got a smaller pussy than you do, Mother."
"How do you know," said Angela.
"Because I'm younger, that's why. I haven't developed enough yet."
"You haven't fucked as much either," added Angela, "but I can see you're going to remedy that pretty quick. I wish I'd gotten as early a start. I think of all those years I wasted...."
Johnny couldn't imagine that they'd had a fight that day. They seemed to be such a happy mother/daughter team. They really seemed to enjoy each other's company.
He had to admit that he enjoyed their company too.
In fact, he couldn't remember when he'd enjoyed anyone's company so much.
Truth was, the boy was totally bamboozled. He didn't know what he was doing. If they'd told him he was the King of Siam, he'd most likely have grinned, nodded, and agreed with them. So long as they kept letting him get to those pussies of theirs.
He was like a little kid in a chocolate factory.
He was like a priest who dies and finds out that there really is a heaven.
He was a politician with enough vote.
He was a gladiator who's just offered the last lion.
He was soaring.
He was out of his fucking head!
And he had cunt juice all over his fingers, and more was spilling over her thighs and rubbing all over his wrists and arms, and even though he at first thought that it was unfortunate that sex had to be so messy, he quickly realized that that was a good part of the attraction.
Damn straight it was messy!
It was gooey, and it was slippery, and it was oily, and it was all about bodily fluids and things you never brought up in polite company, and when you got right down to it, it stank real bad, particularly when you got around an ass-hole that hadn't been washed in a day or two.
But ... well, who cares?
That's the point of it all! WHO THE FUCK CARES!! !
Johnny learned real fast that he'd better not care, not if he wanted to keep up with these two crazy ladies.
Angela was shaking her body all over the place, and he was only managing to hit her clit every two or three strokes of his finger, but every time he felt it (he'd caught on that it was the hard little nub in the midst of all that soft mushy pink flesh) underneath his fingers, he also felt her body give a lurch that suggested perhaps live wires being inserted in each of her nipples, or perhaps a hot iron rod sliding up her cunt.
Certainly nothing so simple and tame as just brushing his fingertip over that hard little bud ...
But that's what it was, and once more he felt totally dumb and stupid when it came to women's bodies. He didn't understand them, didn't know his way. around them, didn't think he ever would, and realized that until he got a bit more knowledgeable about them, he'd feel like a dumbshit fool mother-fucker.
Motherfucker.
Now there was a word, and one that he was suddenly seeing in a totally new light. Motherfucker.
That's just about what he was, wasn't it?
Patsy's mother, anyway.
With her shaved pussy, dripping juice all over the place, and his stiff cock, throbbing and pounding....
Yeah ... he didn't see any way around it. He was going to have to fuck her.
Which was a relief. He'd been afraid that there might be a logical reason why he couldn't.
Her hips were rolling wildly now, up and down, back and forth.
The room was filled with the sound of wet cunts, aroused cunts, flaming cunts, hot buttered cunts.
It was thick, almost as thick as the grunts and groans that were pouring out of Patsy's and Angela's mouths.
Each was drifting off into oblivion. Patsy hadn't changed her position over Angela's body since she lowered her pussy onto her mother's mouth.
Angela seemed content to lick her daughter's cunt as long as her own pussy got the same treatment.
Or similar treatment.
Johnny wanted to stick his cock in there, but he was afraid that he might come to quickly.
He remembered the squeeze technique that Patsy had been forced to use on him, and it had worked real well, but he didn't want to have to ask her to do it again.
He wanted to be able to fuck both these women, and do it right, without having to rely on their assistance.
No one wanted to have to do something like that.
So, he held off a while longer, and instead pulled Angela's shaved lips apart the way he'd seen her do to her daughter.
They opened like a new flower.
It was a beautiful sight. He simply stared for long moments, totally enthralled by the sight of a real live genuine cunt.
Then, he lowered his mouth to her clit, which was standing up straight and erect.
He could almost feel it quivering and throbbing and aching beneath his touch.
Angela emitted a loud, tortured gasp, pausing in her treatment of Patsy's pussy.
Then, she let another one escape her lips.
Patsy could tell that she was rapidly moving past the point of conscious control
Looking around, she saw that Johnny's cock was standing up straight in the air.
Running down the sides were thick veins, deep blue, with offshoots wrapping all the way around the shaft.
His glans, turning an ever darker shade of purple, was mushroom shaped and quite an enticement.
"Johnny, I'm going to suck your cock. I hope you don't mind."
She didn't wait for an answer, but instead moved off of her mother's face and leaned down to Johnny's enormous tool.
She shifted her body around, moving her cunt down next to her mother's, and when he opened his eyes again, Johnny saw himself faced with not one, but two pussies.
Both were wide open.
Both were dripping a thick flow of juice.
Both were a deep flaming red, and seemed to be hot to the touch.
He maneuvered Patsy's thighs to a certain angle in relation to her mother's and then, with the angle of attack perfect, began to alternate clits.
He first licked Patsy's and then shifted to her mother's. Surprisingly, both tasted similar. Perhaps, he thought, that was because they were mother and daughter, but he also thought that it was just the way cunts tasted. He would have to find out as soon as possible.
He felt Patsy's lips once again lock around his cock, taking the entire length of his shaft into her mouth.
He hadn't realized how hot he'd gotten, but as soon as he felt her lips on him, his entire body was wracked by a wave of sensation that left him dazed.
He lay his head back onto the carpet, closed his eyes, and brought his hands up to the two pussies that were in front of him.
He inserted several lingers into each, finding that Patsy's pussy was tighter, but that it also seemed to be a little wetter, making it easier to slide his fingers around inside her.
He began to stretch the walls of their pussies, inserting two, then three, and then four fingers into each flared cunt that was before him.
He felt the insides of their cunt walls, felt the juice that was spilling out of them, listen with joy to their combined moans. He felt hips rolling, hips undulating, hips grinding against his two hands, pushing against him, and as he pushed back, it only caused the moans filling the room to increase in intensity, filling every space with a sense of sexual heat that was overwhelming.
He felt his balls starting to quiver, felt them filling, getting more and more intense into the feeling of pressure, the sensation of ecstasy that was getting ready to simply boil over.
He was slipping further and further away from any feeling of conscious control, fueled by the slurping tongue wrapped around his cock, and by the heat of Patsy's cunt and her mother's cunt, their moan, the movement of their bodies....
Everyone came at the same time.
Suddenly, Patsy's body went rigid, and she cried out with a long wail of anguish. That seemed to trigger the same response in Angela, although she seemed to be much more adept at both increasing the intensity of her orgasm and prolonging it. Her muscle movements were far more complex than Patsy's, and she rolled her hips in such a way as to increase the direct stimulation on her clitoris, causing her screams to increase in intensity.
Patsy's orgasm caused her to gasp for breath, and then her jaw began to work wildly, uncontrollably, biting, chewing, jerking and sucking on his cock.
He was too near the edge to hold back under such an assault.
He felt his jism start to bubble up, felt it hit the shaft of his cock, and then, there seemed to be a literal explosion inside his body as it hit him full force.
He felt wave after wave of orgasmic fury roll over him, each contraction of his cock sending gobs and gobs of hot cum rushing into Patsy's mouth.
"Don't swallow it," her mother instructed her, pausing a moment in her own spasms, and so Patsy let his spunk fill her mouth.
Then, Angela surprised Johnny a final time. After all of them had begun to ease away from their peaks, and seemed to be regaining some form of comprehension and awareness, she looked over at her daughter.
She placed her hands behind Patsy's neck and drew their mouths together.
Johnny watched in total fascination as Patsy and her mother let his jism flow back and forth from one mouth to the the other.
Finally, they both swallowed it, and lovingly licked each other's lips clean.
Then, they all three collapsed onto the carpet, breathing deeply, sounds of contented exhaustion slipping from each of them.
Finally, Angela looked over at Johnny.
"Well, I can only surmise that you enjoyed yourself ... at least I hope you did. But I have to tell you ... you've been very, very instrumental in reestablishing a rapport between Patsy and myself that has been missing for years. And for that, I must tell you, I'll be forever in your debt."
"What she's telling you is that you can come back and fuck her if you want."
"Patsy, you don't have to be so crude."
"Sure I do. You are, and you know it."
Johnny looked from one to the other as they bantered back and forth.
Then he fell back on the rug.
It would take him a long time to piece this evening together in a way that he'd be able to understand.
Life sure was strange.
CHAPTER SIX
"So, did you get them, or didn't you? "Huh?" asked Patsy, startled out of her daydream by the strangely familiar voice. "HUH? What are you talking about, HUH?"
Sot Madden, all six feet four inches and two hundred and fifteen pounds of him stared sullenly over her locker door at her.
"Sot ... " Suddenly she remembered!
She was supposed to have gotten the answers to the history exam! She'd forgotten all about it! She looked up at Sot (Whose real name was Percy, but God help the poor sonofabitch that called him that) and tried to think real fast. It wasn't fast enough.
"You said that you was going to fuck him to get the answers. Now, did you get the answers, or didn't you?"
"Ummm ... listen, Sot, it's not that easy, I mean ... I'm still working on it."
"Look, I happen to know that he was over at your house last night."
"How did you know that, Sot?"
"Because I followed the mother-fucker after football practice. That's how I know that. Now, he was over there yesterday afternoon, and he was back there last night. Either that boy takes a lot more convincing than he has any right to, or else someone's jerking me off. And I don't like the latter possibility, if you want to know the honest to God truth."
Sot was a mean Mother, there was no doubt about it. Patsy wasn't sure what had attracted her to him, except that she'd been trying to maintain an image of outlandishness and play the role of social outcast, purely for its own sake, and the closest thing that Multon had to offer in that respect was Sot Madden. Of course, Sot wasn't what you'd call a political sort.
"Don't you realize that it's all bullshit," she'd asked him once. "I mean, by just showing up at school, we're paying lip service to an institution that's already rotten at the core. It's decayed already, it's dying. It's not going to be long before everything comes toppling down onto our heads."
Sot had peered at her suspiciously through slitted eyes, popped the top off another beer can and asked, "What the flying fuck are you talking about?"
"Civilization! It's going down the tubes. All we can hope for is that it'll be a quick, painless death, although that's already doubtful. But we have a moral obligation-"
"Look. The last thing we need, is some pushy girl going around spouting a lot of ideas and bullshit, you follow? Now, I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to be a pushy girl ... DAMN they piss me off!! ! . . .so the question I want to ask is, 'what the fuck are you going around spouting a lot of bullshit for?' That's the question I want to ask."
Then, he'd downed the beer in a single gulp.
Then, he'd burped loud and long.
Patsy had realized from that moment on that Sot was not the kind of person who'd have gone over real well with her crowd back in LA.
But, he was still the closest thing to a natural anarchist that Multon had going for it, so she'd stuck with him, hoping that bit by bit, she'd be able to enlighten him, bring him around to a high level of consciousness, one that would comprehend the aesthetic and ethical values inherent in wanton, mindless destruction. As it now stood, he merely destroyed out of boredom.
"You did WHAT?" she asked him one night.
"Yeah ... just lobbed a brick right through the mother-fucker."
"You're kidding! WOW! I wish I'd been there."
"Yea ... " he chuckled, thinking about it. "We drove back there about a half hour later. SHEEEEEEEIIITTT you should have seen the crowd. All of them buzzing around like ants when you step on the hive. And there it was, right where we'd found it ... that pretty Corvette with its windshield shattered all to fuck and gone."
"Well that's wonderful! You knew the guy, huh."
"Nah!"
Patsy regarded Sot with awe. "You didn't? Wow. So, why'd you do it."
"I wanted to hear the sound it would make. And I had a half hour to kill."
"Sot ... that's fantastic! Do you realize, that's the first consciously anarchistic act you've done, for the socially correct reasons. I mean...."
"Patsy, will you please shut the fuck up and suck my cock?"
No ... Sot wouldn't be the architect of any revolution ... although if any bona fide revolutionaries came along and needed someone to torch a building or two....
None of which was comforting to Patsy now, as she reviewed her rapidly dwindling options.
She may very well have been growing disillusioned with Sot, and may very well have been considering that a break-off point was approaching, and may have been able to discourse for hours' on the necessity of such an eventuality, but trouble was, she had kind of forgotten to bring it up with Sot.
"By the way," he said, "what the fuck happened to your hair?"
"My mother and I ... sort of reached an understanding about it."
"Yeah ... well, it looks better. Which pisses me off. You walk around looking like an ass-hole for me, and you get yourself looking all normal for that mother-fucker. I don't like it. And now you tell me you don't have the answers. What do you want me to do, flunk that mother-fucker's course?"
"No Sot, I don't-"
"I'm telling you, Patsy, I'm not going to spend another damn year in the eleventh grade. Fuck it! Enough is enough."
He had that "I'm going to go out and ruin something" look on his face.
She'd seen it before. It was a very real and valid indicator of his moods. It was also quite prophetic. She feared that he was getting ready to ruin her.
"Listen Sot, you have to understand, he can't just produce them, he has to sneak them from his old man...."
"But did you ask him?"
"Well, yes, of course I asked him," she lied.
"And he said he'd do it?"
"Well, he said he'd try ... " she lied again.
"He'd better do a fuck of a lot more than try. I'm telling you, I ain't spending another damn year in the eleventh grade. I'll fuck somebody up first."
Patsy breathed a sigh of relief. He scared her. And truth was, he was lousy in bed.
Oh, he had a cock that was easily big enough, but he didn't have a lot of imagination about using it.
And his knowledge of the finer points of the female anatomy was nearly non-existent.
"Don't go talking to me about no fucking clitor orgasm and vaginal orgasm," he'd said one night, highly annoyed. "All I know is that you stuck your cock in it, you come. So does she. You come, don't you?"
"Yes, but Sot, I was just trying to point out...."
"I'll do the fucking pointing around here. That's the trouble with you, Patsy, you think you're still living out in California. Now, there's a faggot state. All you got is faggots running around talking about rights, and personal growth, and all kinds of radical bullshit. They ought to all be put up against the wall, you want my opinion."
"How can you just make a blanket accusation about an entire state? And what makes you so sure that everyone's a faggot out there."
"Because they let their women run around with a lot of hot shot ideas oozing out of their head like pus from an open sore. I'm telling you, it all started with the fucking vote. If they'd kept them from getting that, there wouldn't be any trouble now."
"What, with faggots?"
"No, with women."
"What? You are ignorant-"
"GODDAM YOU DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT AGAIN," he'd shrieked with that sort of demented tone to his voice. "I don't gotta take that shit! I'm telling you, I ain't no faggot that'd let you get away with that shit. Your in Multon now, and you'd better start acting like it."
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wasn't all that fond of Sot after all. In fact, she'd already started to realize that the only truly justified reaction to someone like him would be blind fear. That's about what she was coming around to.
She tracked Johnny down at lunch and tried out whatever influence she might have built up with him the day before.
"Hey, Johnny," she said, trying to be as foxy as possible. The problem was, she was here at school and she'd never really gotten into the flirtatious mood that was so common to the Mary Ellen Rogers types.
Johnny, seeming to sense that, was also little uncomfortable. Strange, that the context could so totally describe people's actions.
"Oh ... hi, Patsy, how are you doing."
"Pretty good. Had a real good time last night."
He looked embarrassed. "Yeah ... " he kicked the dirt, "well, yeah, I did too, sort of. I ... uh, wasn't exactly expecting it, but yeah, it ... it was real kind of interesting. Sort of."
You seem uncomfortable."
"Well, hell, Patsy, so do you. You know. I mean fuck, I'm not really all that experienced at this sort of thing. I mean...."
"Look, I understand. You want to do it again?" He looked around to see if anyone was watching.
"Gosh, keep your voice down, would you?"
"Oh, I see. Well, if you're embarrassed about being seen with me...."
"No, no, that's not it at all. It's just that ... well how would it look for both of us if it got out what we were doing last night?"
"I didn't say you should take out an ad in the paper. I just wanted to know if you thought you might be up for it again."
"Oh. Well. Yeah, sure. I mean, well shit! It was great. You know...."
"OK. Look. I've got a favor, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't ask me why I need it. Just take my word for it, if I didn't, I wouldn't ask you."
"Okay. Shoot."
"Do you think you can steal the answers to the history mid-term next week from your old man?"
"Are you out of your mind."
"Well ... no."
"You sure are. Do you have any idea how hard that would be?"
She gave him a sly grin. "Oh, I don't know. But I'll bet it wouldn't be as hard as something else I'm thinking of right now."
"Come on, Patsy, cut it out."
"Hmmmmm, how hard do you think it would be?"
"Look, just don't even ask me, all right."
"I have to."
"Why?"
"Because I'll get killed if I don't get you to do it."
His eyes widened. "WHAT?. "
"Sot Madden."
"Oh. That's right, you were sort of seeing him, weren't you."
"Um hmm. He knows you were over at my house last night."
"He what?"
"I'm afraid so. He followed you."
"That goon."
"True, but the fact remains, he wants the answers to that test, or he'll kill me, and probably injure you for life."
"Oh, great. Jesus, is this what I get for playing around?"
"Were you just playing?"
"No, look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that ... I really meant it when I said that I had a good time ... but Christ! I don't particularly want to die, you know what I mean."
"Don't worry, I doubt he'd do much to you. I'm the one he's pissed at."
"Tell me, why does that not make me comfortable?"
Suddenly, a voice called out down the hall.
"Johnnnnny," it sounded, shrill and bird-like. Johnny cringed.
"Oh shit, there's Mary Ellen. Look, I ... " He paused, about to tell her to make herself scarce, but then he held back. "I'll leave," said Patsy.
"No, that's okay. Hang on."
"Oh Johnny," sang Mary Ellen as she bounced up to him, "I was just talking to Mr. Scroggins and ... oh. Hello Patsy."
She looked curiously from Johnny to Patsy, and when no explanation was forthcoming she immediately assumed that she was the odd-man out.
"Well, maybe I should leave and let you two continue whatever discussion you were having...."
She acted like she expected Johnny to tell her that wouldn't be necessary. Instead, Johnny just looked down at his feet.
"Look, Mary Ellen," he finally said, "I kind of have something private to talk to Patsy about."
She looked vile and deadly.
"Is that right. Well, let me just tell you sonny, perhaps you should talk to her about the Homecoming dance as well!" She looked at Patsy. "You see, dear, until about thirty seconds ago, I was his date. But I suppose he found something a little more in line with his base interests."
"What's that supposed to mean, you tight-assed twat?"
Patsy wasn't about to take anything from this cunt.
"Well, well, aren't we associating with pleasant people," Mary Ellen said to Johnny. "If you ever regain your senses, give me a call. It'll be a pleasure to hang up on you."
She turned around and stormed off.
"Johnny, I'm sorry," said Patsy.
"Look, she breaks up with me like that at least once a week. She thinks we're all in a soap opera."
He kicked his shoe against the pavement.
"Look, I'm worried about this clown, and I don't mind saying so. He's crazy. You ought to see him at practice. He's a fucking animal. He's the only one that the coaches try to hold back a little. They're afraid that he'll kill someone. I think they're right."
Patsy nodded, sagely.
"You're really seeing this clown a lot, aren't you?" Johnny asked.
Patsy looked up at him.
"Would it make any difference to you?"
He grinned awkwardly. "Well, it sort of looks like I don't have a date for the
Homecoming dance."
Patsy's eyes widened in astonishment, as much at the invitation as the fact that she was actively considering it.
"Do you know how strange I'd feel at a Homecoming Dance?"
"Probably no stranger than I felt last night at your house."
Patsy grinned. "That was kind of strange, wasn't it?"
"No shit! Is your sister like that too?"
"Who, Suzie? Not a chance! She surprised us and got back from the library real early last night. It was right after you left, as a matter-of-fact. You should have seen Mom and me running around, picking up our clothes. She's daddy's favorite. Neither one of us like the sonofabitch at all, as you might have guessed."
"I got the impression that you two didn't like each other either."
Patsy frowned. "That's kind of strange ... I don't know exactly what happened, except that she made me color my hair back. How do you like it?"
"I think you're real pretty. I was kind of surprised."
"Well thanks."
"No offense. But I just hadn't seen you look normal."
"Well Johnny, if you think about all the ways that you've seen me so far, aren't too many of them that are normal."
He laughed. Then he got serious again.
"Look, what am I going to do about this ape that's after you and me too, most likely?"
"I don't know. But I'd better get the answers to that test from your daddy."
Johnny thought about things a moment.
"That was the reason you invited me over yesterday?"
She nodded, not exactly looking like she was proud of it.
He pondered some more.
"You know, you might have pulled it off, if you'd hit me up right then."
"I know. I guess I was thinking of you kind of differently by then."
He nodded.
"There you go again. Lord. You nod more than anyone I've ever known."
"So look," he said, changing the subject, "what are you going to do about Sot?"
"You really can't steal them from your old man?"
"I wouldn't want to try."
"Well, then I guess I'm on my own. Tell me, does your daddy have any kinks?"
It was late afternoon, about an hour since the last bell had rung. There were still sounds of rehearsals drifting over the high school campus, the football team out in the stadium, the majorettes and the marching band, the cheerleaders (even from here Patsy could make out Mary Ellen Rogers' shrill voice barking out orders to the squad) ... There were also some teachers remaining late, grading papers, planning the following week's assignments-One of those was Mr. Swanson, the history teacher. Patsy had just finished her fourth recon check of his room, and there he was, still sitting behind his desk that looked just a little too big for him, with a massive stack of term papers piled up to the side.
He didn't seem to have made a lot of progress during the hour since school had let out.
Patsy decided that the moment was now, or never. She wasn't at all sure what she was going to do, and she wasn't sure that she'd even still be a student when she was through, but Sot Madden was pissed, and if he didn't get his way, there was no telling what he'd do.
Strange, she thought. When she'd first undertaken this mission, it was for someone she thought of as her boyfriend. At least, that was the rationale she'd used to justify the act in her mind.
Now, she was still doing it for a boy that she liked, but the cast had changed drastically.
Now, Jimmy was the reason. Patsy had no doubts that Sot would break his fingers, or his arm, or maybe inflict permanent brain damage. The way he'd look at it, he'd already spent three years in the eleventh grade. He was just one step away from total social failure anyway. It would almost be worth it to him, just to release some of his pent up frustration.
That's something she'd learned. Stupid people like to be violent when they're frustrated or kept from something that they want.
Weak stupid people break dishes, put holes in walls, maybe crush a small animal or two. Strong stupid people kill.
The trouble with Sot was, that not only was he capable of killing, he actually would get off on it.
She wondered again what it was that she'd seen in the goon.
She knocked on the door.
"Urn ... Mr. Swanson, may I come in?"
He looked up, startled, and quickly fumbled with some of the papers on his desk, and also ... with some papers under his desk, in his lap, or at least that's what it looked like.
She strode into the room without waiting for an answer, and walked up to the desk. He was looking more and more flustered.
She couldn't believe it, but she would have sworn that he'd been beating off.
"Mr. Swanson, listen there's something I need to talk to you about, if that's okay with you. I mean, I don't want to interrupt you grading your papers or anything."
That's it, she told herself, keep your face perfectly naive, perfectly innocent.
Act like you don't have the faintest suspicion that anything was out of the ordinary.
She gave him her prettiest smile, and then realized that he didn't recognize her.
"It's me, Patsy Devlin. I dyed my hair back."
Dim recognition dawned.
"Oh ... uh, yes ... yes, of course, uh, Ms. Devlin. Well ... harumph, uh ... what can I do for you?"
She hoped that Johnny had been right.
She leaned over his desk, acting still like nothing more than a friendly student, polite, sociable....
She'd already made certain that there were two more buttons undone on her blouse than she'd ever have tried to get away with during class.
He zeroed in on them at once.
He seemed to be listening to her, but his eyes were glazing over, the more he stared at her ample cleavage.
"So you see, Mr. Swanson, it's really something that I need a lot of help on ... a whole lot of help. I really don't know what I'll do ... really I don't. I'm just so scared, because if I do flunk this test, it's going to put me way behind for the rest of the year, and then I'll have to spend all my time trying to catch up here and it's going to throw me off in my other classes, and I just don't know what I'll do...."
She started to cry.
"Now ... wait a minute ... I don't understand what you're talking about ... I really don't at all ... I seem to recall that you're doing rather respectably in my class...."
He pulled out his grade book.
"Hmmm ... let's see ... Devlin, Devlin ... ah yes. Here we go. Yes. This is nothing to be ashamed of, your record so far this semester. You'll win no awards, but all in all, I'd say that ... um ... Pd, uh ... uh ... uh . ... "
Patsy had unbuttoned the last two buttons on her blouse. It was obvious that she wore no bra underneath. Mr. Swanson was getting quite confused, and seemed unable to even continue.
"Mr. Swanson ... haven't you figured it out yet?"
Please, please, please, be right Johnny. You don't know how much is riding on this.
She took a deep breath, and then, assuming the most sexy stance she could, and putting the most alluring look on her face that she was capable of, she stared him right in the eye and slowly drew her blouse down over her shoulders. Not all the way.
The hemline of her blouse was still tucked into her skirt, and so her breasts remained covered. But every inch further that she pulled her blouse caused more and more of her lush curves to show themselves.
Please be right, Johnny, please be right, she said to herself. If it was possible to scream in ones thoughts, she was screaming.
"Mr. Swanson ... ? " she said, softly, almost a whispered singing lilt in her voice.
He was becoming very still. He knew what was at stake. He knew the risks. Everything depended on what Johnny had told her. If it was true, she couldn't miss. If it wasn't, or if she'd interpreted it wrong, then she'd never graduate from high school.
"Well," he had said, in response to her question about his father's kinks, "I think he really gets off on ... gosh, this is a little embarrassing. He's my father after all."
"It's your life, after all. And Johnny, I'll make it up to you. I'll make it worth your while. Remember last night? There'll be more. Lot's more. I promise."
"Well, one night when my folks were gone, I was going through my dad's drawers, you know, just to see what I could turn up, and I found all kinds of hard core porn that he kept stashed away. And I swear, I don't know where they make this stuff, but I know that it's got to be illegal. It was all these magazines, and films, and books, and the theme was always the same. Young girls. And I mean young. There's no way any of these chicks were over sixteen. Swear to God, the real, authentic number."
"I swear, it was heavy. It was kind of a turn on too, but strange, you know what I mean. He doesn't know it, but until yesterday, those magazines of his have been my love life."
Patsy laughed at that.
"But that's not all. One night, I heard the two of them horsing around, and so I stuck my ear up to the door to see what I could catch. They were going through this really bizarre game kind of thing, with my dad playing the teacher, and my mom playing the student. And my dad was saying things like "Now Candy, I'm afraid the only thing I can do is punish you. You've been a bad girl. You've forgotten your homework three days in a row, and I've warned you, repeatedly...."
Patsy was already forming her plan.
"It was pretty strange. I looked through the keyhole, and there was my mom all dressed up in pig-tails and a cute little gingham dress, and my dad bent her over his knee and spanked her! So I think you could say that he has a few kinks for little girls."
"Wow, it sure sounds like it. Thanks a lot."
Now, as she waited for his reaction, she held her breath. He stood up. There was a stern look on his face.
"Are you trying to bribe me with sexual favors, young lady?"
Patsy sat back, a stunned look on her face.
"Why, Mr. Swanson," she laughed nervously, toying with the buttons on her blouse, "whatever made you say something like that...."
He said nothing for a moment, then he turned and walked to the door. He looked out in the hall, up and down, and then a second time, and then he slammed the door shut. The lock made a sharp metallic click when the bolt fell into place.
He turned back.
"Do you have any idea how serious this offense is, Ms. Devlin?"
"I ... uh, well ... I, ummmm ... " she stammered, stalling, looking more and more scared.
"I don't know how serious this difficulty of yours actually is, but I can assure you, it can't possibly be serious enough to justify this type of behavior. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to do something about it."
He looked stern. He looked imperial. He looked dangerous. He looked just like Patsy hoped he would look. He was a fool and she was going to play him for all he was worth.
She continued to look scared, but managed to put just a touch of hunger in her voice.
"What are you going to do to me, Mr. Swanson ... you aren't going to ... spank me, are you?"
She saw him falter, just for a second. She was right on target.
"Oh, Mr. Swanson, please, you wouldn't do that, would you?"
She lowered her blouse a little more.
"You wouldn't paddle me would you? Slap my on my bottom, till I cry, and I wiggle from the pain ... what would you use, your hand, or do you have a paddle? Would you pull my skirt up, and pull my panties down ... ? "
She continued to act like she was frightened by the thought, but lingered over each image, until she saw the bulge begin to rise in his crotch. She'd been expecting it. He was still playing the role, and wasn't really prepared for her to be playing along with him. He wasn't, actually, sure what was going on, but she'd rightly figured that anyone as obsessed as Johnny had said he was, would most likely be unable to take a shot at her, no matter how far off the mark he might be.
She lowered her blouse all the way and slid her arms out of the sleeves.
"Would you really paddle me just for exposing myself to you, Mr. Swanson? Is that all you want to do, is paddle me?"
She stepped up close to him.
"What else would you like to do? Would you like to tie me up? Use a belt on me? A whip? Would you like to whip my breast? Think about it, Mr. Swanson. It's just you and me. The door's locked. Think about what I'll look like if I undo the clasp on my skirt ... and just let it fall to the floor. . .like this ... may be?"
There was a frown on his face. No, you loon, she thought, this is not your bedroom and I am not your wife, and whether you've caught on or not, I am in control here. You are just along for the ride.
She waited to see if he would try to stop her, but she knew that he was past that now. He'd thought he was toying with her. Now he'd find out what toying was really all about. The one thing he'd never counted on was encountering a real life student who not only could play the fucking role, she'd actually enjoy it, go beyond it, live it.
Anything for a kick. That had been her motto for the last five years, and just because her hair was now all one color had done nothing to change that. She'd try anything once, even pain. She frankly doubted that Mr. Swanson was up to giving her anything she couldn't handle, but even if he turned out to have little backbone, well, then she'd have had the experience. That's what finally counted, right? Somewhere along the way, she had no doubt that she'd be able to worm the test questions out of him, somehow.
She let go of the opened flaps of her skirt, and it fell to the floor. She'd worn a pair of very flimsy panties to school, not really knowing why, but thinking that they might very well come in handy.
Mr. Swanson let out an audible gasp when he saw her standing naked in front of him.
"Look at my body," she said, softly, stroking him with her voice, "Look at how firm my breasts are ... have you ever seen such perfect breasts on one of your students? I doubt it. Most girls are still waiting for them to pop up, but mine are already round, and firm ... see how they jiggle when I shake my body, and see how tight and hard my nipples are?"
She took a nipple between each thumb and forefinger, and slowly began to pull at them, pulling harder and harder, moving her breasts around in circular motions, stretching all of the flesh at the nipples as she increased the tension.
She hopped up on his desk.
"Aren't you going to paddle me now, Mr. Swanson? I want to feel your paddle on my buttocks. You know what I'd like? First, I'd like you to paddle me with my panties on ... see how they pull my cheeks in and keep them firm ... that'll make it sting nice and hot ... and then I'd like you to paddle me on my bare ass. And after that, maybe we can get my panties real wet and you can paddle me wearing them when they're real wet ... how does that sound?"
He was losing control now, seeming to stagger by blind reflex alone. He couldn't keep his eyes of her body, and she leaned back on his desk, holding each of her breasts in her hands, spreading her legs, smiling coquettishly.
"I'm yours, Mr. Swanson. I'm yours, to do anything you want to do. Isn't there something you'd like to do to me?"
She pulled the material covering her crotch to one side.
"Look at my pussy. See how wet it is. See how wet my pubic hair is? It's wet for you. It wants to feel you, Mr. Swanson. Think about ... whipping it. Hitting it with your belt! Wouldn't you like that? Come on, Mr. Swanson...."
"STOP IT!! ! " he yelled all at once. For a second, Patsy was afraid she'd gone too far. He seemed to be really past the danger point.
But then, he stepped up to her, taking in all her body with his eyes.
He stared hard.
He seemed unable to believe what he saw. She must have looked like something out of a dream.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He waited a long time, and then, when he spoke, it was in a voice fraught with tension.
"You're a rather precocious little girl, aren't you?"
"I'm ... not sure ... what you mean."
"I mean, you're leaving a good time making me uncomfortable, aren't you?"
"No. But I have a feeling that you really want to do all those things to me. Why be such a hypocrite about it? You ll never get a chance like this again. You'd never be able to get another student even this far, before she'd be screaming all over school about how 'Mr. Swanson raped me, Mr. Swanson raped me' and that'd be the end of your career."
His lower lip started to twitch. So did his left eyebrow.
"But I'll never say a word. Look outside. There's no one left in the parking lot, all the janitors have gone home ... there's no one. Just you and me. That's all. I'm yours."
She knew that she was down to her last cards. If these didn't do the trick, she was doomed. Of course, he'd locked the door, which in a way had committed him to the situation. But he could still back out. And there wouldn't be a single thing she could do, once he made the choice not to be sucked up. But she'd been so certain, and he HAD been beating off when she came in. She looked around. Where was the book he'd been reading ... ah ha! There was something on the floor under his desk.
"What's this, I see?"
She jumped off the desk and picked the magazine up off the floor.
PUNISHED KITTENS read the title. Johnny had been right. This was serious stuff he was looking at. They had to be real pictures. They just had to be! She couldn't imagine them not being real.
She looked up at Mr. Swanson. He was embarrassed, horribly so, and her next words would determine whether or not she got what she wanted.
"Mr. Swanson ... you and I could make these pictures look tame."
She closed the magazine and tossed it onto his desk. Then, she slowly eased around to the front and faced him again. She started to massage her breasts, and saw that he was staring hard at her ... very hard.
She felt that she was winning.
Then, he began to smile, and she saw him relax. Could it be ... could it be?
He walked around to his desk, opened a drawer and took out a heavy wooden paddle.
"My dear," he said, "you drive a hard bargain. I find you impossible to resist."
She said nothing, but continued to massage her breasts, pushing against the round globes of flesh, harder and harder, then running her fingers down her naked flesh, letting them drift through her crotch, pulling hard on the soft, loose fleshy membranes, and then, rubbing harder and harder over all of her body.
She continued to stare him down, and he for once did not break her gaze. She knew that she had him, but, that meant that he had her, and she didn't know for sure that she'd be able to withstand everything he'd want to do to her.
"Do I get the test questions?" she asked, quickly, lightly, almost as if it was in incidental.
A grin flickered at his mouth.
He rummaged through his drawers until he found a folder. He handed it to her.
"I'll expect them back tomorrow at noon. You can do whatever you want with them."
She took them from him.
"And you can do whatever you want to me."
That's when she realized that he was simply scared. What do you do when your lifelong dream comes true, and you weren't expecting it? That's the situation he found himself in now, but he certain seemed to have some ideas about how to deal with the problem.
"Come here, Ms. Devlin," said the history teacher.
She walked slowly around the edge of his desk, accenting every movement of her body, making certain that her breasts jutted out to maximum effect, and that her thighs were conspicuous in the way that they pressed together and massaged each other with every step that she took.
He was overwhelmed.
He couldn't keep his eyes off her.
She stepped closer, closer ... what would he do? Would he suddenly fall on her, rip her to shreds, beat her senseless?
No. He simply reached his hand out to her face and stroked her cheeks lightly. "You're very beautiful, very beautiful indeed."
She wanted to laugh. He was trying to sound cool and urbane and sophisticated, but it was somewhat muted by the thick Southern accent that made him sound mildly retarded.
But she was determined to play this to the hilt, and go absolutely as far as the situation called for.
As she felt his lingers gracing her cheek, she leaned into them, pressing his hand to her face at last with her own.
She began to breath more heavily.
She moved his hand down to her breasts. At first he felt them lightly, almost seeming afraid to touch them, Then, his grip tightened, and he started to rub over them, pushing them flat against her body, pulling on her nipples, pushing them again, rolling them around beneath the flat of his palm.
"Do you like my breasts," she asked. "Do you like my body?"
"It's wonderful. It's splendid. I want to touch you ... all over."
She surmised that meant he wanted to feel her crotch, and so she gently guided his fingers between her legs.
"Feel me? Feel how my body splits open, how wet I am inside?"
He pressed against her slit, seeming to be a little stunned at the moistness of it. He pressed the material of her panties up inside her, pressed it further and further until the entire band of material covering her crotch had vanished up inside her.
"You're stuffing my crotch. You're stuffing my panties up in my cunt. I have an idea ... would you like to make my panties really wet? Then, when I wear them, and you paddle me, it'll sting. It'll make my bottom sing with pain. Wouldn't you like that? Hmmmm ... wouldn't you like that?"
"What do you have in mind?" he asked, his voice growing hoarse.
She jumped back up onto his desk and leaned back, arching her hips high in the air.
She spread her legs to give him a clear view of her pussy as she pulled her panties down. She took her time, and let them dangle off of one toe when she'd pulled them all the way down.
She spread her legs wide, and stuck the foot with her panties dangling from it right under his nose.
"Can you smell them? Don't they smell good? Do like the way they smell?"
He nodded. Great, thought Patsy. Just like his son.
"Take them."
He reached up and clasped her panties in his hands. He ran his fingers through the material, brought them up to his nose and took a deep whiff, and then continued to play with them, running his fingers through every fold and crease.
She placed her fingers on either side of her pussy lips. "Watch me, Mr. Swanson, watch what I do."
He turned his attention back to her pussy, and as his eyes became riveted to the pink wet slit, she started to pull at each side, spreading the lips further and further apart until she knew that all he could see was a blaze of flaming pink flesh, wet and glistening, and a dark hole at the center of her lips, directly below the pointed flaps of flesh that covered her clitoris.
"Now, I want you to stuff me. Fill me up. Stuff them inside me, Mr. Swanson. Stuff my panties inside my pussy."
She held her lips apart, pulling them as far as they would go. As if in a daze, he reached out and began to insert one corner of material inside her hole. She felt the shiny slick texture of the silky material as he forced it inch by inch past the rim of her pussy hole.
"Mmmmmmmmm ... " she murmured, and it was not wholly an act. She was actually getting off, not on the fact that she was with him. but simply on the fact that her body was being played with, and her words, her lilting voice, erotic and sensual.
It couldn't help but have an effect on her.
She felt the inner chamber of her pussy getting more and more filled. It felt good, solid, complete.
"Are they in?" she asked him at last.
He nodded.
"Good. You see, my pussy drips with juice. When I get aroused, it drips even more. And if I have an orgasm, it's like an artesian well. Cunt juice flows like water. Do you want to see me aroused? Can you arouse me?"
"I'm tired of you talking."
He suddenly seemed to want to assert himself.
"Are you? Really. Tell me, what do you want me to do. Please. Tell me. Are you going to lick my butt. Or are you going to paddle me?"
He reached down and grasped her by the shoulders.
He pulled her upright, and then he turned her over, so that she was lying face down on his desk. "No more talk," he instructed. "I don't want to hear another sound out of you."
She tensed the muscles in her buttocks. He ran his fingers over each cheek, squeezing first the left one and then the right. She felt a finger sliding up her crack, and then he was probing at her ass-hole. She wasn't sure how she felt about that ... ass-holes were one area that she'd never been too interested in exploring. But she felt him shoving his finger up hers, and had to admit that it felt nice. Kind of comforting, in a child-like sort of way.
Then, he pulled it out. This was it, she was sure of it.
She was right.
The first stroke, while relatively mild, hit with a force that was for her, unexpected. She let out a loud scream, short, but loud.
"I said, not a single sound."
His voice was stern, and he sounded like he meant business.
He brought the paddle down on her again, and then again.
The fourth stroke was the hardest yet, and it seemed to signal an increase in his intensity. She tried to keep the moans inside her, but she couldn't.
When she screamed yet another time, he stopped.
"You're going to get us both in trouble. We can't have that."
"But the windows are closed," she said between gasps.
"I know. But I'd rather not take any chances."
He picked up her blouse.
"This should do fine."
He began to stuff it in her mouth. She offered no resistance, but couldn't help wondering if he would tie her hands together also. It would make things a lot kinkier if he did. But on the other hand, it would be interesting to see how much she could withstand without being restrained.
He began again, this time really laying into her.
She was stunned by the fierce force of his blows. One after another they fell, covering the entire area of one buttock, and then, when she could feel the surface of her skin starting to grow numb, he would switch to the other buttock, following the same proceedure, spanking her until the pain was too much for her nerves to even register, and they would simply grow numb ... and then moving back to the other cheek.
She could imagine the color of her bottom turning a bright flaming red. It was rapidly becoming much more than she could stand. Her groans and moans and cries, even though muffled by the material in her mouth, were still intense, and growing louder each second.
He was getting carried away by the force of his own momemtum, it felt like.
Harder and harder.
Faster and faster.
He struck her again and again and again, until she felt herself on the verge of passing out.
But even though she was not restrained, she didn't try to move out of the way, or to avoid the blows. Some part of her wanted to see just how much she could tolerate. She wanted to be pushed to the edge. She wanted to feel sensations that she'd never felt before. She wanted to be pushed all the way to her limits, and then she wanted to be kept there, more as a test of her own ability to tolerate the pain than anything else. She wanted to feel. She wanted to hurt. She wanted to have every nerve ending aflame.
And deep within the folds of her swollen cunt, she felt her clitoris growing more and more aroused, felt it tingling with sensation. She focused on that tiny bud of flame now, with every stroke of his insane paddle, she tried to translate it into sensations that could flood her clit.
She knew that it wasn't enough.
What she wanted, what she needed was to feel the same thing on her clitoris. She wanted to be violated more and more, wanted to feel her body savaged in ways that had never been done to her before.
She wanted to be torn apart!
Ravaged!
Raped!
Plundered!
Fucked within an inch of her life!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Patsy turned over, causing Mr. Swanson to break his rhythm. He seemed to be in a hypnotic trance. It took him a few moments to pull himself back to the world.
He stared down at her body, quivering with pain.
"What's the matter," he asked, a demonic look in his eyes.
"I want you to do something else," she told him. "Please ... I promise you, you'll like it even more than paddling me on my bottom."
"What is it."
She smiled slowly, and then, rubbing her bottom a little (for it was genuinely sore she said to him, "Take off your belt."
He smiled, and seemed only too glad to comply. Patsy couldn't help noticing the enormous bulge his cock was making inside his jeans. She had a particular plan for that, later on, but first, she was getting hotter and hotter to have him complete the job he'd started so admirably.
She was on her back now, facing him. He could look straight down and see her entire pussy, exposed and hot and waiting for his attention.
"Whip me. Beat me with your belt," she murmured, spreading her legs as far as she could. There was no doubt as to what she had in mind for a target. There was only one possibility. But in case he didn't get the message, she once more placed her fingers on either side of her pussy lips and pulled them wide apart, stretching them as far as they would go.
She pulled upwards at the same time, causing her clitoris to pop to attention.
"There. Right on it. Whip it. Whip, my pussy. Whip my clit. Hard. Be hard. Be rough.
Be brutal."
She turned away, overcome by her own arousal. She'd never expected to get into it this strongly.
Mr. Swanson appeared to be somewhat taken aback by her request, but nonetheless he dove into it with pleasure.
He slowly wrapped his belt around the palm of his hand, and left perhaps four inches of the strap hanging free.
Then, he dangled the tip of it right in the open slit of her cunt.
"Can you see my panties inside me?" she asked. "Yes. They look like they're getting very wet," he commented.
"For you. Because of you. You're making them wet. You're making me wet. Make me wetter. Make me come with your belt. Whip it. Please. Whip it good."
He swung. It was a short sharp stroke, but it brought the tip of his belt right across her clitoris.
She gasped, loudly, but tried not to cry out loud. She would prefer that he didn't stuff her blouse back into her mouth.
He swung again, this time harder than before, and letting more of the area of his belt strike her body.
She felt a hot burst of pain shoot through het groin, sending ripples and shock waves flowing all through her body.
It was driving her crazy, and he hadn't even gotten underway yet.
He swung again.
And again.
His eyes were riveted on the pink mass of pussy flesh opened before him.
It was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.
A pussy, opened for him, waiting only to be whipped to a frenzy. It was the fulfillment of a fantasy that he'd spent his entire life trying to recreate. But he'd always lacked the one essential ingredient.
Authenticity.
Now, he had it.
He had a pussy that he could whip to his heart's content. He had a tair of ass cheeks that he could beat till they were rosy red from the pain. He could beat her breasts, he could beat her legs, he could whip her just about any place that he wanted to whip her.
He swung until his arm started to get tired.
The slapping sounds were music to his ears, and he couldn't stop, even though he was becoming exhausted. The momentum of his motions became almost a self-sustaining force, one that supported him like a metal frame, driving him onward through the sheer intensity of his momentum.
He saw that hard, ruby-tipped bud of quivering nerve endings, and took careful aim.
He watched, almost as if the scene was unfolding in slow motion, as the tip of his belt fell through the air, and raked across her clit.
He savored every quiver of pain that shook her body.
Her hips arched up in the air.
Her breasts shook madly.
The hole to her pussy, and her puckered ass-hole both opened and closed involuntarily with every stroke.
Her eyes were closed, her head was turned to one side. She couldn't see the look of pleasure and triumph in his face.
Such an unexpected gift.
He was still in a state of shock over it.
Again he swung, and again and again.
The soft pink meat made a sloshing noise every time the leather strap ripped through it.
He suddenly knew that if he didn't contain himself, he'd easily draw blood.
It was something that frightened him, because down deep within the depths of his soul, he wanted to exactly that.
He wanted to draw blood, wanted to make her scream and writhe in uncontrolled agony.
But he kept himself in check.
He was content to merely whip her clitoris, striking it again and again until the rhythm of his strokes and the rhythm of her body was one.
She was moaning constantly now, rolling her hips crazily to the motion of his belt, shaking her body, crying out ... she was coming. Lord God, he was whipping her to an orgasm.
It built steadily, inexorably, until he saw her spill over.
Her hands fell away from her pussy, but even though her lips closed up somewhat, she still had her thighs spread enough to keep the inner pink flesh visible to his searching gaze, and keep her clitoris within reach of his wild, untamed strap.
She started to scream, but then, as the full force of her orgasm struck, she stopped, and simply went into a spastic dance of muscle contractions.
Her head rolled from side to side, her mouth worked furiously but no sounds other than incoherent moans came out.
Her hips ... that's what amazed him the most, for her hips were actually rising higher and higher into the air, literally seeking out his whip, trying to get closer to the source, to make the pain as strong as possible....
He stepped back, uncoiled his belt all the way, and began to flail away without consideration to where he was hitting her.
Some of his strokes struck her pussy, some of them struck her thighs, and some of them hit her breasts.
That produced an amazing reaction.
The first stroke that crossed her nipple caused her to let her arms fall to the side, and then she actually brought her hands up to the side of each mound of flesh, pushing them together and forcing them to jut outward, making them easy, inviting targets.
He hit her full on the nipple of her right breast, and then he hit her on her left breast.
Her body shook like bombs were going off inside.
Each stroke of his leather strap produced a sharp c-crack!! ! that echoed through the room.
He didn't even pause to wonder if anyone could hear, nor did he care.
He simply swung, and swung, and swung as hard as he could.
Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, he was forced to stop. He could go no further.
He listened to the sounds that she was making, and at first thought that they sounded like deep heaving sobs.
But they weren't.
It was the sound of her body racing through wave after wave of orgasm, taking off now on its own, no longer needing any outside stimulation.
He watched while she fingered her clitoris harshly, bringing herself to come after come after come.
Her hips were rolling spastically around on his desk.
The stack of papers had long since been scattered everywhere.
Still she came, seemingly unable to stop.
There was only one thing left for him to do.
He dropped his belt and unzipped his pants. His cock, already solid and aching, shone at the tip from the drops of jism that had already oozed out of it.
He was hot and horny and knew that there was only one place to put it.
He reached down to her pussy lips and slipped his fingers inside to remove her panties.
But she said "No, no, fuck me with them inside. Please. Stick it as far inside me as you can."
Who was he to argue with a request like that?
He brought the head down to her hole, and watched as it slowly disappeared inside her body. He felt it make contact with her panties, and then felt them being pushed to the very back of her pussy chamber as more and more of his cock was swallowed by her insatiable body.
He would never have believed it possible, but she took his entire cock.
All of it was buried up to the hilt!
"Now, fuck me, fuck me, fast and hard. Come in me. Come all over my panties!"
The idea was so intriguing, and it was all the more so coming from someone so young, that he almost had no choice in the matter.
His balls were already filled to overflowing.
It took only a few strokes before he felt them shooting a hot gusher of cum up through his shaft and out the head, all through her cunt.
He plowed as fast and as hard as he could, and then, when he'd fully spent himself, he withdrew.
She looked up at him.
Holding his gaze with her eyes, she inserted two fingers inside her cunt.
"It's full. You've filled me up."
She looked like she was trying to find her panties, as if he'd pushed them so far up her that they'd gotten lost.
Then he realized that she was moving them around, turning them over and over as if they were in a washing machine, being agitated by her cunt.
When she finally pulled them out of her pussy, they were drenched. She held them up.
"Aren't they a mess?" she asked, grinning at him. "Now, get your paddle ready."
She slipped them on, to his amazement, and rolled over again, sticking her ass as far up into the air as she could.
"I'm ready, Mr. Swanson."
The oily sheen on the silky material reflected the florescent lights overhead. He could almost see himself standing before her.
She was enjoying this. That was the most incredible thing. That was what was still impossible for his brain to comprehend.
She was enjoying it. She wanted it.
She craved it!
So ... he'd give it to her.
He brought the paddle down on her tight firm ass, and the sharp, wet crack that sounded through the room made even Mr. Swanson flinch.
But Patsy, while emitting an agonizing groan, kept her ass high in the air.
He had to admit, the girl kept her part of the bargain.
But then, she was a slut. What else would you expect from a slut?
He swung again.
Once more the sharp crack echoed through the room.
She began to moan.
She was moving her hips now, pressing them down harder and harder into the desk.
She saw her arms, both of them, disappearing beneath her body, and knew that she had her fingers up her slit, was even now rubbing that wet mushy pink mass of quivering meat that he had so recently whipped to a frenzy, a tortured frenzy.
It made his cock hard again. Just thinking about that pussy of hers, spread and opened before him, waiting to be whipped, made him hard, as if he hadn't just come at all.
He felt his balls filling again, felt the tingling sensations rising, felt a quivering of the muscle at the base of his cock, as if he was once again getting ready to come.
But that couldn't be, could it? He didn't see how. He swung his paddle again and this time, the sting produced a painful reaction in her.
She started to gasp and moan, and for a moment he was afraid that he'd at last hurt her.
But once again, she surprised him.
She seemed to be a bottomless pit, a black hole of passion.
Nothing seemed to push her too far.
"Oh, yes," he heard her whisper, almost to herself.
"You want more?" he asked, knowing that he'd give her more, whether she wanted it or not.
"Yes ... yes ... YES!! "
She was sticking her ass higher and higher in the air, literally begging him to work it over. What could he do? She was, after all, a very persuasive young lady.
Later, she sat in the front seat of Johnny's jalopy.
"You aren't serious!"
"Urn hmmm," she said idly. She'd just told him the whole story about the session with Johnny's father.
It had really shocked him.
"I can't believe it. I thought he'd let you off with a cheap feel or something, maybe getting you to suck his cock ... but my God...."
She wrapped her arms around him. "Does it make you mad at me?"
"Well, no ... why should it?"
"Does it make you want to do it?"
"What! Spank you?"
"Yeah."
"Well, no. I don't think so. Why? Do you want to?"
"I might want you to."
"You're kidding?"
"You still don't trust me, do you?"
"Yeah, sure I trust you. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, it just sounds like you don't trust me."
"Well, I do. I really do. You confuse me though. I'll admit that."
"Good. What do you say we go back to my place."
"Why?"
"Oh, I think my mother might have a treat waiting for you there."
