When a teacher oversteps her bounds by becoming a sexual mentor as well as an intellectual one, is she to be chastened?
Today, now, society practically screams that such is the case. The idea of an adult, much less a teacher, being physically intimate with a child is socially unspeakable. It is ingrained in the moral prudishness of our forbearers and intellectually justified by our desire to protect our children.
Today, however, the restraints of our ancestors as regards moral codes is slipping away. The once permeating idea that all sex is sinful is rapidly falling by the wayside.
There can be no question that in this novel Mala is not the sexually stable average person in society. It might even be hinted from the descriptive passages about her sex drives, that her sexual activity borders on nymphomania.
The fact that she is attracted to youngsters, literally children, to satisfy her inordinate sexual cravings adds even more flavor of perversion to her activities. Yet, is it right to condemn her life style simple because her behavior is socially deviant.
As Mala is drawn into the maelstrom of life in middle America her sexual proclivities are widely accepted-as in truth her behavior would be accepted in real life. Art reflects life, and while the nuances in this book are sharper, more direct than is normal in everyday living, the image of truth is plainly visible.
Mala is accepted because each person she encounters is enriched by that encounter. When people gain by their experiences, when they realize satisfaction, they are positive toward the person who makes life more pleasant. Usually the negative reflections come from people who are frustrated in their own aspirations or behavior. Such people harbor jealousies and hatreds planted in their own minds by their own particular mental and emotional quirks -their own, you might say, perversions.
The point of this book might be best stated by simply saying, what is wrong with a teacher who teaches sex joyfully to her students? Who makes the students understand that there is joy in sex for anyone who wants to find it.
Surely the condensed scene of a typical middle American lover's lane is enough to dispel the myth of sexual innocence that surrounds the average teenage child. And, if we look into the brief incident that takes place there in Mala's story, we are reminded that the evil in sex is a product of a jaundiced society, not that of a sexually liberated individual.
It is too much to say that the behavior of individuals like Carl Chessman who died in California because of a lover's lane kidnapping-rape charge would be totally altered by total sexual freedom, but few psychologists think that total sexual freedom would make the picture worse.
The layman is often confused by the different stances taken by the experts, but one truth above all others in psychiatric medicine today is that the largest group of patients being treated for anti-social behavior are usually suffering from sexual misinformation and hang-ups that directly lead to their own frustration and subsequent anti-social behavior.
What may be needed are more teachers who love their students, not fewer.
-THE PUBLISHER
CHAPTER ONE
Naked, relaxed, and happy, Mala Peters leaned back on her elbows on her king size bed and looked with loving eyes at her cunt, reflected in the tall mirror a few feet away. Of all her possessions, she loved this taffy-haired, wet-lipped pussy the most, for there was nothing she owned or ever expected to own which had given her so much pleasure.
Her strong, gracefully rounded thighs were opened wide so that she could see and admire every warm, juicily shining detail. Its rich, strong perfume swirled up to her nostrils, for it was already quite warm in the sunny, high-ceilinged bedroom. With a smile and a wink at her reflection, shivering in anticipation, she gently rubbed two fingers in the slick rosette of inner labia, picking up some of the clear juice they were distilling, and tasted it with gourmet delight.
She had long ago admitted, this rejecting every restrictive tenet of her family's austere life, that cunt was the most beautiful word she knew, that cunts were lovely and precious. She had no illusions - she could very easily have become a Lesbian. Except for one delectable item.
Men's cocks.
For the present, Mala had to live without that delightful commodity. In her first few days at Oakdale High School, she had seen a score of attractive men who, she knew with unfailing instinct, would have liked nothing better than to shove their hard, bold, utterly lovely pricks into the softly sucking darkness of her cunt. And Mala, too, would have liked nothing better.
But female teachers who are blessed with opulent beauty like Mala's must not take chances. Oh, they are human, which meant that they fuck and love it, but they must be careful. Even with the assurances that Mala had from her contract, even with the benign power of Lew Jonas behind her, she was not about to press her luck, which had been wonderful so far.
She got up and went toward the impossibly luxurious bathroom with its sunken marble tub and enormous shower. It was big enough for half a dozen people. This house was also a part of her luck.
There were mirrors everywhere, it seemed. Her big, firm breasts, her soft, muscular belly, the sweet, strong curves of her thighs, even the darkly inviting crevice between her rounded ass-cheeks, all greeted her from the mirrors. Her body was beautiful. A gymnast's body. As a matter of fact, a world class gymnast's body. She had missed the Nineteen-Sixty Olympics team only because she had grimaced in pain as she did a walkover-split on the balance beam. A jealous older woman judge, left off the team for the first time in twelve years, had ignored form and skill and downgraded for "personality."
Well, that was a long time ago, when Mala had been sixteen. And it had been the third day of her period. "My fault," she had told herself wryly. She refused to blame her flaming little cunt.
That tall, strong, male track jock in the training village, whatever his name was, had found her at dusk the night before in the dark tunnel of the stadium. Her breasts were, even then, straining at the front of her training leotard; his big cock had been a marvelous sight to her youthful eyes. Considering that it was the second day of her period, she should have sucked him off, but he would have none of that, and fucked her with such force in the gathering dark of the tunnel that she felt twice as large in the throat of her cunt for the next twenty-four hours.
He had taken her condition lightly. "You're so cute, chickie; who gives a fuck that you're a wee bit bloody." he had quipped. Maybe the fact that he was from Kenya had given him a less esthetic approach to sex. Maybe it had given him that enormous cock, too.
In any case, in the midst of that walkover, with her legs opened the same as in a split, she had felt that her pussy was gaping open, that no tampon in the world could hold back the gush of dark blood and debris from her juvenile womb. And, when she descended, making the split so perfect that her soft young pussy actually seemed to mash flat against the beam, she had made the shamed face in expectation of the disgraceful blood that, she felt, would stain her practice tights.
A long time ago. What the hell. She was still world class, and a lot of people knew about the bitch who had kept "little Mala" off the team. She had been one of the best in America, and everyone knew it in spite of that horrid decision. It wasn't why she had slacked off in her fiercely competitive drive for world fame. In that year, realizing how hot and loving she was, she could no longer face the nun-like devotion, the mulelike drudgery. Oh, she still competed for a while, still fought it out with the best. But no longer trying for the absolute top.
But people who knew gymnastics still knew Mala Peters. So that was part of her luck, too. That, and the sudden flare-up of championship-hot nuts that had struck the Oakdale High School Board after their boys and girls made it to the CIF finals.
Mala smiled at the warm glow between her cunt lips. So, okay, she'd be a virgin for a while. Until what she wanted so hotly fell in her lap. But she wouldn't be a repressed virgin. This gorgeous shower, with all those shower heads each separately adjustable from a mist-fine spray to a thin, caressing stream, would give any hot girl a world of hot ideas.
The thought made her clitoris throb. Her vagina, its lips unstuck by Mala's short walk from the bedroom, issued a warm, teasing little trickle of hot cunt nectar that oozed its way ticklishly down the inside of her thigh.
She looked over her array of creams and lotions, all of them from the Mardon line. Those devils! Mala grinned. No wonder their cosmetics had gripped women's imagination. Sure, many of the jars and bottles were of standard design, but these were special, shaped and stoppered to resemble - what else, to interest a woman like Mala?-men's cocks. Rounded, soft plastic bottles, with caps sculpted like every cockhead that ever throbbed out sperm in hot, milky ropes.
Mala took the C-Creme. It wasn't the largest bottle. Who needs something big when one's lovely, loving pussy is so tight?
She turned on first one shower head, then another. Three solid walls on the big shower, one huge glass door. Three rows of those marvelous, must-be-costly, adjustable fountains.
Middle row adjusted to a cone of spray, warm but not hot, just right for the suddenly enlarged, aching nipples of her hard titties. Ooooh! Ooooh God! What a feeling!
She squeezed the C-Creme bottle, holding it upside down. There was a hole in the soft, round cap; a drop of thick goo came out, then another, and Mala tasted it. Those Mardon people were simply crazy, that had to be it; sex crazy, cunt crazy, cock crazy. The stuff tasted like cum-juice, smelt like the rankly beautiful humidity under a man's foreskin.
Her breasts were almost alive under the hard, sweet caress of those spray nozzles. Her mouth was suddenly flooded with saliva at the synthetic cock flavor of the lotion.
For just a split second, she hated herself for masturbating, but that was horseshit, a hangover from the harsh puritanism of her childhood. God gave me this cunt to use, to enjoy, in any way that I can, she thought.
She spread her gorgeous legs wide apart, then bent her knees, so that the hairy pads which primly closed her from the air and dust -but not from fingers, tongues, or cocks-came open. She felt the warm trickle from the shower aimed at her titties. It was coming down from the back as well as from the soft overhang of her breasts, such a neat, friendly dab of sensation around her asshole. If she had time, she would fill that responsive, clutching orifice with the small bottle with the soft mushroom head, the one with the long, flexible plastic neck and the bulbous shape that allowed her to shove it deep into her bowels without any fear of losing it.
She groaned as she inserted the cock-shaped head just inside the quivering rim of muscle at the glowing entrance to her cunt. It seemed too large, and she knew that her period was going to be a few days early. When she was irregular on the early side, the inner lining of her vagina, the heart of her cunt, the "kissing muscles" at the entry, all swelled up and became vastly more sensitive.
She was getting too confused by all this bullshit with the nozzles and sprays, with all this false-cock business with the creme bottles, there was a pounding in her heart, in her abdomen, a writhing in her guts, a sense of herself eating herself in the softly slipping muscles inside her cunt.
Her vision blurred with sudden need, and she dropped the bottle on the wet floor, made a cone of three fingers, and jammed it skillfully, accurately, tenderly into her most vital area, into her itching, shrieking, sucking pussy, her wet thumb cleverly turned so that its soft cushion of meat just touched her bursting clitoris.
It was a therapy, that and nothing more. But it was so badly needed, that Mala loved herself for the act, for the very lack of finesse that came from hunger. All right, she promised herself. We needed that. But we wont be having to whack ourselves off much longer.
"This God damned shower's enough to undermine any gal's morals," she said aloud, hugging her soap-slippery body, now that the highly necessary sex explosion had rumbled and roared through her body, laughing in her sense of release.
Back in the bedroom, she looked at her clock and whistled. Almost nine, but no problem. The neat little TR-3 in the drive was part of the marvelous new job, just like this incredible guest house on the Jonas estate. Breakfast would be waiting in the big house, almost a twisting, tree lined block away, and the sporty little two-seater would whisk her there, and then on to school, in a few minutes.
Running a comb through her short, sleek cap of golden hair that gave her the appearance of a Fifteenth Century page boy in a burnished helmet she peeled back her sensuous, naturally red lips to inspect her perfect teeth, gave her unconfined breasts a pat where they stretched her white blouse in a straight line from nipple to nipple, and straightened her fitted mini-skirt. "They'd better not put me in the front row at that faculty meeting," she muttered with a grin, "or Max Virden will cream his shorts!"
Remembering how the quiet, strongly built principal had flushed when they had shaken hands some months ago when she had visited the school district at Lew Jonas's personal invitation, Mala had grounds for her wicked little flight of imagination.
Of course, being recommended by Lew Jonas meant a lot. He was president of the school board, and rich! That kind of money means power. And Lew Jonas knew how to use it, how to be fair and considerate, too, but still powerful.
"We really want you down in Oakdale, Miss Peters, and what we offer will prove it," he had said in his best chairman-of-the-board voice, and then, seeing the flicker of amusement in her eyes, and remembering that, no matter how big he might be in his world of finance, she had been and still was just as big in her own world, he had begun to laugh.
"I'm going to call you Mala," he had said. "And you call me Lew. I honestly think we may be associated for a long time, and I'm not a miss and mister kind of guy."
Later, after he had detailed his presentation, she had to admit that he had covered everything of importance. Almost.
"You've got tenure here in the L.A. school system," he had ticked off. "So, all right, we give you a five-year contract. Non-cancelable. Really non-cancelable. You could, pardon the expression, screw the principal on the fifty-yard line between halves at our Homecoming game and not be fired. That's tenure, right? And the Teachers Union, they transfer seniority, pension rights, everything. You lose none of that.
"Now, the money. As a C-Eleven, or the L.A. equivalent, you draw fourteen thousand plus a few odd dollars. With us, to start, it's twelve-five. But I've fixed that. You not only head up the Phys Ed department, you're going to coach. That's an extra five thou, plus a lot of fringe benefits, plus a fat expense account. As a famous amateur, I'm sure you know how to get the most from an expense account."
But with all of it, even his promise of free rent in his guest house - "it's big and old and comfortable and all yours for as long as you like," he had said -and a new Triumph as a bonus, she hadn't been able to make up her mind.
"At least come down and visit," he had said, calm as you please, no high pressure. And she had gone with him right then and there, having nothing else to do at the time. And she very much wanted to be with him, alone in the bedroomy privacy of his big Continental, to see whether or not he meant to tie her warm body into the invisible fine print between the lines of that unbelievable contract. Because that was one thing she wouldn't do with her pussy.
"I expect to give away a million dollars worth of fucking before I hang it up," she had once said to a mixed group at a feel-good party, with two guys feeling her up at the same time in the dark room, and one of them trying to get his cock under her arm, against her breast at the same time. "But I wouldn't sell a smell of it for a million dollars!" And she hadn't been kidding.
She had said the same thing time and time again. Being an amateur and a friend of the mighty, she had been given many valuable gifts. A lot in Westwood, in 1959, when she had won the gold at the Nationals. It was worth a lot of money. And she hadn't even let the guy so much as touch her ass, although later, because he had been so sweet, she had given him a blow job that had made him her friend and financial adviser for life. And other things, too, nice things. And no fucking for them, not ever.
And Lew, on that first visit to look Oakdale over, had been a pleasant little surprise.
She had not worn any panties, and the blower from his car's ventilating system had really gotten between her legs, its circulating air swirling her thick, gorgeously raunchy cunt-perfume throughout the car. It was even faintly embarrassing to her, it was so thick. Like I hadn't washed Little Juicy all day, she thought.
And Lew had chatted easily, looking at her without self-consciousness, telling her about himself, and his work, and his hobbies, one of which was being involved with education. "If I ever stopped to figure my time on an average amount earned per year," he had said with a smile, "I couldn't afford it, but maybe the contribution I make is worth it. If I sign you, it will be. We really have the kids to win a championship. I wouldn't lie to you."
And then, a few miles before they came to the Oakdale-Athena off ramp, he had looked squarely at her for a second and said: "I'm no eunuch, and I'm not keeping my dirty mind anesthetized to throw you off guard, Mala. You're a lovely piece of goods, my dear, and I'm as much a man as you ever met. But I've got a wife I value above my fun, and if things go right, you're going to be a part of my family."
Nothing tense, nothing harried, just plain, easy talk, and her respect for him filled her mind.
She saw the guest house. It was fantastic. She had known some very substantial people throughout the world. So she knew something about luxury, real luxury, not tin-plate bullshit. And this was very, very nice, by any standards.
Not a big house. One huge bedroom, a comfortable sitting room, a kitchen. "You'll eat with us, of course," Lew had said. "But a kitchen's nice for snacks or drinks."
Of course it was furnished with antiques. Mala was impressed. Must be twenty thousand invested here, she thought. Not that such things would make up her mind for her, but it helped. And that bathroom! Unbelievable! That pink marble, the imported labor, the ornate fixtures, the complex plumbing, probably added up to more than she made in a year. A lovely bonus.
Martha Jonas was sweet, too. Mala couldn't really see her as a sexpot, no matter what Lew had said. She seemed too quiet to be full of sex-fire, but she was quality all the way.
But none of it, nor all of it, was really enough to sway her completely. After all, her pals were in Los Angeles. And it was an exciting place to live, that huge, threatening, dirty metropolis that seemed to swell and heave with a toxic life of its own, like the undulations of a brooding manta ray.
No, not the money, not the contract, not the darling guest house nor the shining little TR-3. "It's like a jeweled watch," Lew had said. "Almost old enough to be a classic, and I spent more having it restored than a new one costs today!" It was all lovely, but it wasn't enough.
She was almost ready to leave. 'Take the Triumph," Lew had said. "Next time I drive up to L.A., I'll bring my son Jerry along and he can drive it back here." And that was when Jerry Jonas came into the room, and that was when Mala Peters made up her mind.
He was absolutely beautiful. Almost six feet of him, at fifteen. Not gawky, like so many tall adolescents, but as graceful as a panther. Tanned skin, dark brown eyes, brown curly hair, shining white teeth. And a smile for Mala.
"I sure hope Dad's persuaded you to come down here, Miss Peters," he had said. "I'm on the gym team, and we've got a lot of talent, at least I think so. But we just don't seem to have the motivation. And you could sure motivate me!"
He had blushed a deep red, and Mala, too smart to let the boy's statement seem to be the deciding factor, nevertheless made up her mind at that moment. And all the way home, in the little sports car which Lew had insisted she take, she had been licking her lips, swallowing spit, clearing her throat, and fighting a hotly consuming desire which burned in her cunt.
Now she was in Oakdale, the five-year contract signed, most of her possessions in the guest house, and next Monday was the first day of school. Today and tomorrow would be orientation for teachers and students, assignment of classes and individual scheduling, and then-the week end!
"Yes, the weekend. That was a real milestone for Mala.
Because, before this week end was over, she was going to fuck young Jerry Jonas. Fuck him and suck him and teach him to do the same for her.
She shivered from a sharp bite of lust deep in side her flowing twat, and laughed at her schoolgirl reaction. "Take it easy," she admonished her mirrored image. "We've got lots of time."
In a sudden wish to be part of the community to fit in with the faculty at Oakdale High, she drew on a pair of ultra sheer pantyhose. She hated all things restrictive. One of her pet detestations was clothing her legs and loins with this nylon fakery. She had almost considered asking Lew Jonas to include in her contract that she did not have to wear such damned nonsensical coverings of her most integral parts. "After all," she muttered, "I can't expect everyone to have the same feeling for my ass as I have."
The thought tickled her, and she was still giggling when she parked the Triumph and went in to breakfast. She felt great. In fact, it was hard to believe that things could be any better.
But she had another pleasant surprise.
"We've got to impose on you, Mala," Lew said. "Martha's dad has an operation coming up. It's elective surgery, but he wants to have it a week from today. So we thought we'd drive back; it's a pretty time of the year, once you get past the desert."
She kept her face impassive, but her heart was racing.
"What do you want from me?" she asked with a smile. - "Well, we can't take Jerry out of school. There's Mrs. Charles to look after the house, and Mister Charles has to stay on to look after the grounds. And Esperanza to help Mrs. Charles. But we want someone closer to him in age and, uh, inclinations to more or less take charge of our boy."
He had draped an arm over Jerry's shoulders, and the boy was eyeing Mala eagerly.
Mala managed to smile, managed to use her voice, although her tongue felt as thick and hard as if she were in the very last throes of a monumental orgasm.
"Of course," she said. "You mustn't even think of it as an imposition. Jerry and I'll find a lot of things to do, right, Jerry?"
CHAPTER TWO
That was a long, long day for Mala. For several months, ever since she had agreed to come to Oakdale, she had thought about young Jerry Jonas, his beautiful young body, his cock, which must be of equal beauty. But it was sort of day dream.
Even after she had arrived and settled into the small house which would be her home "for as long as she wanted it," Lew had repeated, she had not thought in exact, concrete terms of how she would make the boy her own. On the weekend, yes, she hoped she could make it. Hoped. It would depend on a number of things.
Like how much supervision Lew and Martha exercised over Jerry. And whether he could be away from home for a few hours at a time without exciting curiosity or drawing questions. It would take nerve and determination. As she thought about it now, even during the continuous monotony of orientation talks and walks, Mala would feel quick, sharp quirks of itching lust in that darkly drooling crevice where she hoped to charm the fifteen-year-old boy into committing his strong, youthful cock.
"Oooooohh!" she moaned in a whisper as she touched her open pussy lightly with toilet paper in the restroom. What a day to have this don't-touch-me-or-I'll-cum feeling, she thought.
But she had it. Just thinking about the afternoon.
For all her imagination, in fact, for all her experience in similar situations, she felt the least trace of panic. A thirty-year-old woman seducing a boy half her age demands only a few ingredients. Time and privacy, and those she had. But there was another, The right frame of mind in the boy. A desire to fuck, her mind said. Curiosity about a woman, her cunt, her breasts, her pubic hair, her nipples, the way her thighs join her body, what presses the trigger that makes her cum where are her points of deepest sensation, sensuality, lust.
If Jerry were an ordinary kid of fifteen. If only she did not live, so to speak, under the same roof If only she did not already, love and respect his parents.
She shrugged irritably. He was only a kid, and at an age where he needed to learn about cunt, about sex, about women. No, not about women. About a woman, a particular woman.
She was on her way to the library in the Liberal Arts building when she thought of a way to begin, and she had to stop and lean against the wall, so intense, so urgent was her feeling of sexual heat.
The kids got their schedules finished early and went home. Most of them. But not Jerry. He had left his car at home to ride to school with Mala, already a sort of object for hero worship to him. So he stayed until she could leave.
It was a warm day. September, even October, are far more like summer months in Southern California than are June and July. So, when they turned off of Santa Fe drive to head for home, Mala stopped the little car, said: "Man, it's pretty hot!" and, lifting her beautiful ass, simply reached under and back and shucked off those wretched panty hose. To accomplish this, she had to raise first one foot and then the other. There was no doubt that, if Jerry chose to look, he could not help seeing that curly-haired, fat-lipped little pussy which Mala so much loved. In fact, he would have to go to some lengths to miss it.
It gave the woman a deep thrill to realize that he had not missed it, that he was obviously not affronted or shocked, and his bright gaze was filled with interest when she turned to look at him.
"Golly, Jer," she said, "I must have been burning up to forget that I had a man with me." She laughed and thought: If I were only two per cent cornier, I'd give him a wink and an elbow in the ribs. And if I were two per cent hotter, I'd have his cock out and in my mouth in five seconds!
When they got to the Jonas place, Mala stopped at her own little house but left the car's motor running. "I can drive you home," she said, "but if you need to use the bathroom, you can come in and use mine." She regarded his face, a struggle between embarrassment and his desire to be adult. As an exercise in tact as well as straight action, she turned the ignition key and got out, leaving it up to Jerry. And he got out, too, looking very pleased with himself. "Guess I'll use your, uh, place," he said as deeply as his changing voice would allow.
She allowed him the complete privacy she felt he needed. If things worked out as she believed sneaking a peek at the young boy holding his cock, taking a piss, would be nothing by comparison.
When he came out of the bathroom, she was reclining on her bed, leaning back on her elbows one knee pulled up. She was so hot that the warm air of the room touching her opened twat felt like an arctic breeze. She was so hot that she did not care for subtlety. She was so hot that she let one knee fall to the bed, and she felt her pussy pop open, the fat lips breaking the seal of her dried cum-juice with a barely audible noise, more felt than heard.
But she did remember one thing of importance. This was for all his adult size and beauty, Jerry was only a kid. And kids need a bridge from where they are to where the action is.
She patted the bed beside her. "Sit down, Jer," she said in as casual a voice as her growing heat permitted. "Feel better now, don't you? You should have taken a little pee for yourself before we left school. I know I did, or I'd have been right in there with you, letting you piss in the sink while I used the toilet."
The kid flushed, opened his mouth, and apparently forgot what he was going to say. I'm coming on too strong, Mala thought.
"Listen, Jer," she said, "don't mind me. Remember, I'm grown up, and you're so, well, so big and poised for your age that I've been thinking of you as grown up, too. If my plain speaking embarrasses you, I'm sorry."
To her great pleasure, he laughed, tentatively at first, then with more gusto. "Geez, Miss, uh, hey, what shall I call you? Like at school, I guess it'll have to be Miss Peters. But here, well, it doesn't sound right. What do you think?"
She held out her arms to him, the tall, quiet, sweet young kid who had twice looked directly at her pussy without flinching, and he smiled and came down to her, not kissing her, not yet, but lying on her enough so that her left breast was gorgeously crushed against her ribs, and his beardless cheek came against hers.
She laughed, deep in her throat, and said: "You're all I had hoped, Jerry. Much of a man inside that boyish front. We can be sure-enough friends, can't we?"
He breathed evenly against her neck, the sensation giving her the subtlest of movements and responses in the dark slickness of her vagina, and at last he whispered: "I'm glad you think so. Say can I sit up for a sec? I'm, uh, sort of twisted."
She held him briefly, laughing. When he sat up he looked uncomfortable, and Mala said: "Listen I know this may seem too sudden for you, but I've known, ever since last Spring, when I first me you, that we could be friends. And I'm not kid ding. You know that. Right?"
"Yeah," the kid said. "But I'm sort of, you know, not sure how to talk to a, well, a grownup And a lady, besides."
"Listen to me, Jerry. I'm going to say a few words. Are you ready? Are you listening? Cunt, cock, fuck, pussy, shit, piss, screw, asshole, you can fuck, I can fuck, she can fuck, he can fuck, they can fuck. You've got a cock, I've got a cunt, boys jerk off, girls finger-fuck themselves." She blew out a breath as though relieved.
"You see what I'm getting at, Jerry? I'm telling you that you can talk to me any way you please. You don't have to hunt for the right words. Now, let me guess what you wanted to say. You're uncomfortable, that's why you had to sit up. And it's because you've got a hard-on, isn't it?"
The tall boy began to laugh. "I'll never knew anyone like you, Mala. You didn't answer me about what to call you, but if you're going to be so real with me, I couldn't call you Miss Peters."
"Ms Peters, at school. At least for awhile. Spelled M-S. You know, the Ladies Lib thing? Pronounced Miz, the same as most people pronounce that other title, M-R-S. That's right, Jerry. You call me Mala. Why not? But you didn't answer me."
Jerry looked away, reddened again, and turned back defiantly. "Yeah, sure. A hard-on. Want to see it?"
He looked so doubtful, so vulnerable, that Mala sat up, moved over to the edge of the bed where he was standing, and put her arm around his hips. "This is sort of a rough time, in a way, Jerry," she whispered. "We're getting acquainted, really acquainted, sort of fast. But don't be afraid of me."
She began to unbuckle his belt, and, since her cheek was against the hardness of his young cock, she felt it jump in anticipation. She unfastened the hook, ran the zipper down, groped in his shorts.
"My God," she said in an awed voice, "you sure have a nice cock, Jerry! Nice and big, nice and hard!" Her voice shook.
"Thank you, Miss, uh, I mean, Mala," he said formally, and once more his young laugh rang out. "Oh, Jesus, Mala, be careful! Ohhh! I'm about to - well-take it easy!"
She let him go quickly, looking up at his intent face.
"Okay, Jerry," she said huskily. "You're about to cum. Hang in there, baby. I want you to cum but I want to help. Watch! This is for you!" She pulled the blouse over her head, letting her breasts, firm as any schoolgirl's, bob out of their confinement. 'These are for you," she said, almost shyly. '7 mean that! And-this is for you, too!"
She thumbed the mini-skirt off, and, for just a moment, felt as she had at twelve, when a boy with a hard-on first stood and stared, open-mouthed, at that childish cunt.
"Oh, my God!" the boy gasped. "Oh, beautiful Oh, Mala, it's beautiful!"
She had expected shock, silence, confusion, but she had made a good guess. There was a good deal of man in this boy.
Quickly, feeling his eyes eating her breasts, her belly, the hair on her pussy, she undressed him and lay back. "Are you all right now, Jerry?" she whispered. "Are you still about to cum? Do you want to shoot it all over me? On my belly, on my cunt, on my tits? In my mouth?"
She reached out and took his stiff young prick in her hand, very carefully, moving her warm fingers gently, pulling the full, velvet-soft foreskin back to expose the shining red head, a drop of clear fluid leaking out of its little slit.
"I-I'm okay, I think! Oooohh, Mala, that feels
good! I don't want to cum too quick! Can I, you know, look at your pussy? Really look at it? I've never seen one, not close up. And not one with, uh, well, not a grown-up one!" His voice was low, his hands trembled. She quietly took his hand.
"Lie down here," she said. "Beside me. Do anything you want to. Turn me over, pull my legs apart, kiss my breasts, stick your fingers up me. Oh, Jerry!" she almost shrieked. "I'm sooooo HOT! Oh, Jesus, let me hang on to you!"
She gripped him around his head, pumping her ass up and down as a short cum-blast shook her loins, feeling the heat and slickness of cunt-nectar flow out of her, down into the crack of her ass. "See what you do to me!" she asked, very low, laughing shakily. "Talk about being ready to cum!"
"Golly," he said wonderingly. "Can you do that again? How long do you have to wait?"
He was standing on his knees, his nodding cock just above her mouth, and she said thickly: "Get your knees on each side of my body. There, that's right. Are you still about to cum? Lean down on your elbows. Put your hands around my hips.
Around my ass. Ohhhh! Don't touch my cunt! No yet! Can you see it?"
"Well, yes. It's sort of open and red. Real pink Man, is it ever wet! And it smells wonderful! Hey! What are you doing? Wow! You better look out, Mala, or you're going to get a big load of cum in your mouth!"
He laughed, but it was a very shaky laugh, and his body trembled as she sucked hard on his hard young cock.
She had had to raise her head off the bed, and now she lay back again, holding the stiff, unyielding organ at its base, savoring the marvelous, acrid male tastes that she had worked out from under his humid foreskin. She was still within a hair of cumming, but, now that so much ground had been gained so quickly, she wanted only to assure pleasure for young Jerry. His kind of pleasure, any way he wanted.
Quietly, using her free hand to reach up and stroke his naked back, she asked: "What do you want to do, Jerry? I want to make you shoot this wonderful big load of jism. I'd love to suck you off to swallow it, to eat your cum. Or we can squeeze you off between my tits. Or you can ram it into me, into my cunt, and fuck me until I scream! Damn!" she swore. "I'm almost screaming now! What do you want?"
His voice was eager, but tinged with doubt. "I wish, uh, if it's all right-if you think it's all right, I mean, Mala, well, can a fellow, you know, suck a girl off?" She felt a warmth all through him and, looking up at the crack of his ass, so smooth and touchingly hairless, realized that he was blushing all over.
She used both arms to hug him around his rump, letting the hard cock jerk free, and said in a ragged whisper: "Oh, yes, Jerry, my darling! Ohh, yessss! Suck me, kiss me, lick me! Ohhh, baby! Give me your cock! OHHHH! OH GOD!"
The wild flame of orgasm, which had flickered in her cunt all day, ever since that relieving spasm in the shower this morning, burst deep in her belly, in her womb, flaring out around the gently kissing mouth as the inexperienced boy, driven only by instinct, smeared his happily seeking face into her opened pussy, his nose snorting its own heat into the sensitive anus.
She was sucking violently, in a crazy beat of lust, going up on him, until at last, as she felt his cock, so marvelously big and mature for a boy, get harder, swell until it nearly choked her, and begin to shoot its jets of sperm, hot and rich and slick, tasting like what it was, like the stuff that creates life, like love, like FUCKING! And her screaming voice, choked in her throat by the plunging dick, became only a vibration that shook in her guts, that gave the spurting cock an electric sense of wild feeling, wilder and richer and longer-lasting than even Jerry's most expert and imaginative masturbation.
And then, slowly, with a languid collapse that was like the slow-motion of television action, they were on the bed, fallen, gasping, crying, laughing, cum-smeared, ready to look at each other with new eyes, to see each other with new, bold, happy understanding.
For just a second or two, Mala felt a deep fear. Just a kid, Jerry was. Maybe this was his first sex experience-with a live partner, at least. How would he react? With disgust, scorn, guilt?
And then, miracle of manhood! He was turned about, his wet, still fat cock between her smooth thighs, his muscled chest mashing her boobs absolutely, gloriously flat so that she could see one long, hard nipple stick out like a finger before he rolled it out of sight. And he was kissing her kissing her, kissing her, moving his face about so that she could kiss off and lick in the sweet and gamey cunt juice that was all over his beautiful, slick-shiny face.
He slowed down his wild smooching at last, and she thought she could feel, against her pussy, still smashingly tender after that cum which she had needed so deeply, a faint but very real movement in his cock. A stir of life, a promise of health and lust and stretching pleasure.
He let his head go down beside her, his cheek on her cheek, but all at once he raised his head and looked boldly into her eyes. "Show me how to kiss," he ordered, and laughed. "Show me how people kiss when they want to fuck."
He put his mouth on hers, his teeth only slightly parted, but when she moved the tip of her tongue against them, he opened his sweet mouth wide, and eagerly sucked her tongue in, hard, all the way, and she shivered at the inner delight of letting his saliva run into her mouth, against her teeth and gums, across her tongue. It was not as rich and stirring as his blasts of sperm had been, but his breath was like a baby's, and she responded with an involuntary shudder of muscles in her belly, a cum-preliminary.
He raised his head. "What was that?" he asked. "You were shaking, sort of. Did I hurt you?"
She laughed in a deep, slow push of warmth and delight, and urged his body further on to her, holding him tightly.
"Every woman should be so lucky, to be hurt like that," she joked. He slipped, his belly moving against hers, and she said: "we're soaked with sweat! What a simply wonderful feel! Ooooh! Move your chest back and forth. Ooooh, you're making my boobs feel so great! Rub again! Oh, Jerry, you're sweet!"
She rolled him off of her, onto his back, and he felt so good, so right, that he let her; let his cock lie there in fat display, her spit and some of his jism drying on it.
She was on her knees, her pussy hidden between her legs, and she could imagine how it puffed out, down between her heels, its lips so thick and fat from her beautiful, complete, gut-swirling cum. On an impulse, knowing that this boy had a lot to learn, including exactly how a "Grown up lady's" cunt looked at various angles, she got on her hands and knees and moved as though to kiss his reviving prick, reveling in the rich aromas of a male crotch sweated by sex. Her opulently structured ass was right there where he could see it, touch it if he wished, and she knew that her pouting cunt was still open for she felt the cooling kiss of room temperature on her exposed inner labia.
"Hey, you're pretty drippy," the boy said, and giggled. "I read where girls don't cum the same way men do. Or boys," he added defensively.
She lifted his cock in her hand, put it in her mouth and sucked it gently, running her tongue around the head, pushing the tip of it between head and foreskin, and releasing it to smile down at him. "If you're talking about yourself, you have my permission to call yourself a man," she said. "Honest! I meant it when I said you were wonderful!"
She stood still for his probing fingers, although he was into her most sensitive areas, left almost raw with desire by that magnificent burst of mouth-sucked orgasm.
"Do you like the way that feels, Jerry?" she asked, and it took concentration to hold her voice at a normal level. "Did you ever feel a girl's cunt before?"
He continued to play, running his finger around the slickness inside her, stroking the lump of grainy glandular tissue just inside the upper area of her vagina, prodding in to give her cervix, the hard mouth of her womb, a sickeningly sweet jar.
"Never did," he choked. "Once, at a party over in Rancho Rico, one of the girls claimed she could fuck every boy there, but I was tenth in line, and Roy Brady, who was eighth, got off her and said he couldn't cum, she was so sloppy, and it turned me off. I jerked off when I got home, though," he said, and laughed. "I guess that's real kid stuff, isn't it?"
His fingers felt perfectly marvelous, but it was an unsatisfactory action, due to his innocence. Just as he hit a spot of erotic intensity, just as she hung poised on the edge of another sweet orgasm, his uninstructed fingers would stray away, poking into areas that felt pretty good, but that lacked the harshly intense nerve-hunger that would throw her on him while her cunt flared with that tearing burst of cumming.
With an effort, she kept her mind on what he was saying. What he had just said. But her body was on fire. "Not kid stuff at all, Jerry," she whimpered, almost in a groan. "Jerking off is better than aching for a fuck. You're jerking me off right now. And before we're through, during the months and days and weeks and years, I'll find ways to-Oooooohhh! Ooooohhhh! Hold me, baby! I'm ccuummmmiinnngggg!"
Her humping body had worked its way off the boy but his fingers were still hooked inside her giving her a hard, sweet pressure, and his young mouth was opened in disbelief when her eyes cleared and she could see him plainly.
"Wow! I guess I see why girls don't cum like men," he said. "If you shot a big load every time you popped your nuts, and had one big cum after another, you'd die!"
She laughed tenderly, pulling away from him, watching him sniff and lick at his reeking fingers, dripping with the slick, warm juice from her cunt.
"For a boy who never felt a girl's cunt, you're showing a lot of ambition to learn," she teased him, and then, as he looked abashed, she drew his face to her aching breasts, feeling a deep and lovely warmth as he sucked at one nipple. "You're a real marvel, Jerry," she whispered above his dark, curly head. "You know more about pleasing a woman right now than a lot of men with a hundred times more experience!"
"Look what you've done for me," he said to her, pulling away and turning toward her. "I never got a second hard-on so quick. But I never had so much reason." He looked just a little flushed, not sure of what he should say or do, and Mala's maternal heart swelled with affection.
She pushed him back to a reclining position, taking the soft head of his big prick in her mouth, turning her eyes to him, trying to smile with that big thing forming her mouth into a stretched "O", trying to tell him with her expression just how great he was, just how sweet and unbelievable and masculine his penis looked and felt and tasted. It was a marvelous moment for her, and for him as well. His mind still held the brilliantly colored picture of her puffed out cunt, its slick, drippy, convoluted inner lips so filled with hot blood that they pushed out between the haired flaps of soft, spongy tissue. And his fingers still tingled from the magic of her cunt, the firm, juicy entry, the incredibly soft, smooth inner walls with their viscous coating, the constant suck and grip of her muscles. And then, after he had withdrawn his hand, the raunchy beauty of that cunt perfume, the gaggingly rich flavor of the slick ooze as he licked his fingers!
For just a moment, looking at the boyishness in his face, seeing the child while, at the same second, she was eating a man's prick, gave Mala a strange and yearning ache in her heart, a desire to hold the boy, to comfort him. And right with that traitor thought, that recycled nonsense of a Sunday School background, she thought: What greater comfort can a woman give a man than to drain his balls?
Her mouth still held lingering echoes of his powerful jets of sperm, the thud of his cock against the back wall of her throat, the raw richness of taste that still anointed her taste buds. She was thinking of that, but thinking even more strongly of maneuvering that big, hard cock into her when the phone rang.
Her reflexes were so perfectly under control that she did not stir, but Jerry raised up quickly, his face concerned, and she grinned at him, wiping her lips. "I'll get it," she said.
There was a three-trunk flip-over relay between the house and guest house, and a blinker-buzzer signal system when there was a guest house call. Mala pushed the switch where the light was blinking, answered, said: "Oh, yes, Mrs. Charles. He's right here. Surely. Line two? Fine " Jerry was standing by her and she handed him the phone.
"It's your dad," she said. "On line two."
"Hi, dad! How are you? How's mom? How far did you get?"
The boy chatted on, and Mala, with a wry grin, watched his hard-on droop, grow noticeably smaller, then sink into softness, still a good mouthful, but not a cock in her meaning of the word.
"I'm at the guest house, with Miz Peters," Jerry was saying. "She gave me a ride to school, and now I'm trying to help her with some chores." He listened for a minute or two. "Yes, sir," he said "I know where they are. I'll mail them right away.
Holiday Inn, in Denver. You bet. Sure thing, dad. I'll tell her."
He hung up, looking pleased but sheepish. "I know that was a lie, Mala, that I was doing some chores for you, but I had to tell him something. I have to mail him some papers. Air Mail, right away."
He looked at his wilted cock, picked it up in his hand, turned a woebegone face toward Mala.
She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him his clothes, leaning forward just "once to peel the foreskin back with thumb and forefinger, taking the soft, shrunken head into her lips, touching it lightly with her tongue.
"Don't you worry, Jerry," she grinned at him. "I know it's all still in there, the hard-on, the jism that made it happen. We'll get it up and out. Get the cock up, get the cum-juice out. See here?"
She rolled backward on the bed, her knees back almost on her shoulders, spread wide, the huge tendons standing out on the inside of her thighs. Her pussy, wetly drooling so that a clear trickle of her cunt nectar had spread down the crack of her ass, where her pinkly puckered anus nestled in a ring of dark blonde hair, was so open that it seemed to yawn. It was like a toothless mouth, except that the exposed membrane was softer than anyone's gums could ever be.
The boy, staring, faintly smiling, said: "Yeah, Mala, I see. What 're you telling me? That it'll be ready when I get back?"
With her fantastic muscle control, she worked her vaginal sphincter's muscles so that the gap closed, came open, closed again, as if it were chewing.
"It'll be ready for you any time, baby," she said softly. "Any time. And don't you forget it!"
CHAPTER THREE
Knowing the cock-raising power of the female aroma, Mala disdained a shower, slipping into a pair of white shorts which fit her beautiful thighs like another skin, and a loose knit shirt with a fanciful design all around the upper half. A pair of kidskin slippers she had gotten in Spain, and a tall leather cap given her by a Russian athlete years ago completed her costume.
She felt marvelous, her belly still warm from the cannonading of lust as young Jerry had sucked her so deftly, so she left the little sports car by her bungalow and took off across the springy lawn. In her glow of well being, she ran off a dozen cartwheels, finishing with a couple of forward flips, and went back, laughing, to pick up the peaked cap where she had lost it during the first few cartwheels.
When she got to the long, shaded portico of the main house. She was greeted by Mrs. Charles a woman apparently in her early forties or late thirties, a smallish, cuddly female who seemed pigeon-breasted because of the fullness of her breasts, and the rather tight, decidedly conservative type dresses she habitually wore.
There had been no more than an introduction and a handshake between them, but now the housekeeper walked to meet Mala, smiling, and put her arm around the younger woman. It was such a welcome gesture of friendship that Mala, touched, put her arm around Mrs. Charles and somehow, she wasn't quite sure how, found her hand squeezing a large, softly full tit, un-brassiered, and confined only by the women's dress.
Since she certainly hadn't intended it, she had to conclude either that Mrs. Charles had slipped and fallen against her, or that she had deliberately moved or turned so that the breast had been engineered into Mala's hand.
To test the other woman, she gave the warm. soft handful of tit a hearty, overt squeeze, pinching the nipple which was so obviously alert and hard, and said in an exaggeration of modesty and manners: "Oh, just look at old clumsy me, grabbing your boob like we were sorority sisters! Next thing you know, I'm liable to be trying to steal a kiss!"
She removed her hand from the welcoming breast and placed it on the shorter woman's shoulder, looking down at the pretty little face, now screwed into a scowl.
"Okay, okay, if you're all that straight," Mrs. Charles said. "I don't care what you think; I'm not a butch, not even a Lesbian, not on any scale I know of. It's just that all I ever see is Charles; I never get away by myself, and he's a dear man, but he isn't everything in the world. And," she said, giving Mala a searching look, "I know damn well you know exactly what I mean!" She flushed and looked away, but Mala squeezed the well-stacked little woman's shoulder and turned her so that they were facing, then bent and kissed her.
There was a very sharp feeling of tension between them, a sort of electric current that lifted Mala into another dimension, and then Mrs. Charles had her mouth wide open, letting Mala's tongue come in and touch hers, and the younger woman, responding to this, kept her lips widely parted. It had always seemed to Mala to be a very hot way to kiss; just the idea of open mouths seemed to suggest an open cunt, and the tongues, hard and seeking, going in and out without being wrapped around each other, were more like hard pricks than ever.
A girl athlete, especially one as sexily beautiful as Mala, always draws a good deal of courting by those female jocks who make up a goodly percentage of women's track and field teams. And, because she was hot, and because there was, on many venues away from home, a shortage of men, she knew what it was to have the hot, snaky, expert tongue of another woman sucking out her agonies of ecstatic orgasm.
Now, with a deep feeling of sisterhood and sympathy for Mrs. Charles, a genuine sexual empathy for anyone disadvantaged in the cock-and-cunt department of life, she suddenly held he smaller woman tightly against her, closing her lips down on the darting tongue, sucking the sweetness of the other woman's questing mouth, feeling the thrust of the compact body.
After a moment, because a kiss of passion can quickly become ridiculous unless it leads to a higher plane of sex, and quickly, they drew apart, and Mala looked kindly at the flushed, determined face she held at arm's length.
"My dear," she whispered. "Please, I don't even know your given name. Or Charles's. Is he Mister Something Charles, or Mister Charles Something? Look," The taller girl said, giving the little woman a kiss: "You mustn't feel badly about this. You know it's all right. I'm just not, well, ready for any girl-on-girl stuff right now. Okay?"
Tears rolled down the smooth little cheeks again, and Mrs. Charles suddenly put her head against Mala's breasts, hugging her very hard.
"My name's Mae," she said. "Mae Charles. My husband is John." She sniffed. "Anyhow, you're sweet. I'm sorry I was so, well, aggressive, but you looked so beautiful and free and strong, turning over and over across the lawn. I could see your-oh, dear! I'm terrible, aren't I? When your legs were spread so wide, I could see your, what do I say, Mala?"
"My cunt?" Mala asked. "That's a lovely fabric in my shorts, so soft and clingy. And no fly up the front, no zipper; they just pull on. They feel almost like being naked."
The well-built little woman laughed tremulously. "God, I'd love to see you doing that, flying across the lawn, I mean, with your ass bare! It makes my tongue hard, just thinking about it." She turned away, then came back to look at Mala with a tender smile.
"You'll have to get it from someone," she said. "It's not the boss; I know him too well. And you've got too much smarts in your head to fuck around at school. And it can't be Jerry. What am I saying-it can't be Jerry? A big kid like that? Oh, my God! How wonderful! How wonderful for him! Oh, Mala! God bless you!"
Struck dumb by the precision, the positive feeling of Mae Charles's words, Mala could only stand still, one hand outstretched as if in some mute plea. Her heart ached. She felt suddenly deprived; to have another person learn so quickly of her liaison with Jerry was too much.
But she had underestimated the character of the lovely little person who looked at her with such compassion and understanding. Once again, she found herself in close embrace with the housekeeper, but now it was Mae who furnished support.
"You're such a darling," the little woman whispered. "Did you think I'd ever spoil that for you? Or for Jerry? Never! Oh, that sweet kid! Would you believe? I've seen his cock. It's fantastic, isn't it?"
She hugged Mala again, and her eyes were warm and soft. "He was jerking off. In the gymnasium. If it hadn't been for startling him to death, I'd have come down on him so heavy! Ohhh! I'd have sucked his balls right up through his tubes!"
She laughed, a shaky, tender little laugh, know you'll be good to him, my dear," the little woman said. "And good for him, too! And if I can help -well, just ask, hear?"
This time she turned and marched resolutely into the big house, and Mala, her face kind and tender, watched her go, the perfectly sculpture little ass, so explicitly feminine in its rounded, divided beauty. She thought of the fat, warm, slick little pussy hiding between those firm thighs, and was warmed by a flush of heat that swept over her. "Another couple of meetings like this, Mala baby," she said to herself in a whisper, "and you'll be swinging both ways!"
She saw from the driveway that Jerry's car, an old but finely tuned Cadillac, was not in the garage yard, and she strolled slowly back to the cottage. She felt as ebullient as ever, but the strange encounter with little Mae Charles had set up a soft glow of inner heat in her cunt, and she wanted to let it cool down. It was still early, at least two or three hours before dinner, and she ached to see the tall boy, to do what she had promised.
She rounded a very large planting of native shrubbery and desert plants and stopped, inclined to laugh, but strangely touched.
The old Caddy was parked next to her little Triumph, and Jerry, now in a pair of surfer trunks, was washing her car.
He looked up, smiling like an angel as he saw Mala, and she immediately walked over and pressed herself against him, her right arm around his broad young shoulders, her left hand going down to his crotch, feeling for his cock. His mind had apparently been on her as well as on her car, for it was almost hard, run out nearly to its full length, and he moved against her tight grip as if he were fucking into her hand.
She pulled back to look at him, her eyes like stars, her breath catching. "You're so beautiful, Jerry," she whispered. "Let's get that load out of you!"
"I can't believe this is really me, Mala," the kid said soberly as he followed her into the guest house. "Never had a girl, except to take some dummy to kid parties, never had a piece of, uh, pussy." He colored and dropped his eyes, and Mala, who had quickly pulled the shirt over her head, took his face between her hands and kissed him gently, running the tip of her tongue between her lips.
"Look at these," she said huskily, pushing her breasts up into tighter cones, with their brown areolas and hard nipples begging for a kiss. "I said they were for you, remember? You've got to believe me. Listen, Jerry, I'm not just using you because I'm real hot and haven't got a man." She had an idea, and reached out again to rub at his concealed tool, finding it a bit harder.
"Why didn't you stick your fingers up into me when we walked in?" she asked softly. 'These shorts aren't armor, you know." She giggled. "Any enterprising fellow could hook a finger under the strap and at least get a little smell of cunt on him."
He answered with an inarticulate cry that was like a sob, and leaned against her blindly, putting his big boy's hands under her butt, pressing the cheeks so hard that they inevitably pressed on the outer cushions of her pussy, giving her a warm, crowded feeling.
"I know what your trouble is, darling," Mala whispered. "You weren't sure of me, were you? Like you said, you didn't think it could be happening to you. Well, it's happened. And if you want to know, I'm the lucky one! I mean it. So quit wasting time, because I want to show you that fucking can be many things, and all of them wonderful!"
She placed his hands on her waistband. "Pull 'em off, baby," she choked. "What's under them is yours; go find it!"
He seemed to realize that this was no dream, but absolutely real, and he dropped to his knees, dragging the shorts down to his feet, and held them while she stepped out. His face was pressed against her nest of blonde cunt hair, and he rooted with his nose in the upper part of her slit, his breath tickling her in that most tender crevice.
He looked up at her with a shining face. "Baby," he cried, "let's get it on!"
He had an incredible native knowledge, Mala thought as he placed her on the big bed and pulled her legs gently apart, getting her knees up so that her thighs would sag open, leaving her cunt such an easily reached target.
"It's beautiful," he breathed, bending to kiss it, getting cunt juice slicked onto his lips and chin, licking it in and going down for another, stronger, longer kiss, a real suck, actually, that made her bump her ass up and down as she clenched her hands in ecstasy.
"Let me have your cock," she whispered. "Jerry, my dear, is it really true that you've never done any of this? Never fucked, never been sucked, never saw a live woman naked?"
He rested partly between her strong thighs, one hand on each of her knees, grinning down at he across her rounded belly, across the smooth valley between her tits. "Unless you count that girl at the party," he said. "I was just one guy away from her when I decided not to try it. I almost had my nose in her ass. I saw her, all right."
He was having a marvelous time, Mala thought. Being a man of the world. How marvelous that he could so quickly adapt to a level of sex that should have been, in fact, some years ahead of him! She saw his red-tipped cock, a hard bar of meat, nodding in rhythm to his heartbeats just a few inches from her rump.
"Do you want me to suck it a little before we put it in?" she asked softly. "Do you think, you may be too hot?"
She held out a hand to him as though asking support as well as giving it, and he kissed her palm. "I don't want to cum too fast," he said. "That's no good for either of us, is it?" His brown eyes were tender, concerned. Beautiful!
"Put your finger in me," she breathed. "I want to show you something."
She let it go all the way in, a tantalizing deliciously cum-itchy feeling. I could cum as soon as that cock touches me, she acknowledged in her mind. But I want him to be pleased, to be happy with himself.
Now, very carefully, she worked some of these muscles which had been developing ever since she took her first exercises on a tumbling mat. It gave her a deep, gut-felt joy, using those sensitive cords of soft sexual tissue to grasp and writhe around his knuckles. "How does that feel, baby?" she asked. "How would that make your lovely cock feel?"
The boy's face was strained with the effort of riot giving in to a desire. "I'd pop my nuts in two seconds," he said desperately. "I couldn't stand it!"
Mala's body was gently heaving, not entirely a matter of her choice. It was almost too much for her, too. She felt the slow trickle of her cunt's inner flow leaking out, down into the extremely sensitive area between vaginal orifice and anus, an itching so painfully pleasurable that she had to tense her entire body to defend against the craving to drive her fingers into that palpitating crack. And then, out of the storm of her sensuality there came a trace of humor.
She sat up so quickly that she almost knocked Jerry over, and hugged him without caring whether or not she rubbed against his straining cock, just hugging him and laughing.
"Look," she said to his puzzled but happy face, "we're acting like a couple of damned misers, as though we never would have another chance to enjoy that wonderful feel of getting our rocks off, right? Listen, my wonderful little friend, how many times can you shoot that big, hot fun-gun?" She gave his cock a little shake, and he no longer felt that he was on the ragged edge of cumming.
He grinned. "I know what you mean, Mala," he said. "Even if I shot off before I got it in you, we could still have fun, we could work around and I could get it hard again, and then we wouldn't be in such a hurry. And I could still make you cum by sticking my fingers in you, or sucking you out or, oh, lots of things."
He was so delighted, so carried away with his ideas, that Mala took his cock in her hand, bent quickly down, and gave it a hard, tongue washing, loving suck, pulling her mouth off it to look at him triumphantly. 'There you go!" she said. "Not a throb out of it, and I gave you a real suck!" She rolled on to her back again, knees up. thighs apart.
"Now," she said, "I'll finish showing you what I started out to show you. Remember how I was cracking your knuckles with my cunt? Now, put your finger in." With precise skill, handling each muscle around her cuntal door separately, she made herself go completely slack. Even the itching fire of a near-cum subsided in the face of this imperative quieting down; she had room for all his fingers.
Looking faintly curious, Jerry pushed and pulled, his finger making a sloshy, sloppy noise. "All the grab is gone," he said. "You're not pinching my finger."
"Put in two fingers," Mala said. "No, get all four of your fingers together, and go in slow I want to show you what practice can do to a girl's twat."
Incredulously, he watched his combined four fingers, backed by his thumb tucked in between, go clear to his palm before it felt opposition. "Geez!" he whispered. "Could I get my whole hand in you? It feels like it!
"Push hard," Mala gasped. She was getting hot again, but didn't care. This was training, this was to show the boy something few women could do, that few men had ever seen. Freakish though it was, it would do him good to believe the unbelievable. "Push! Now pull out, just a little! Now, push again!"
She had learned the secret of this complete muscle control from the two coaches of a team from India, the girls' coach and the men's team leader. It had started as a bit of fun, and then the two semi-mystics from the sex-oriented Far East had come to love and respect this blonde American kid. But she had not gone so far as this in a long time. His hand was now almost in, his fingers jarring her cervix.
She felt that her body might turn to flame at any moment. It was not like a fast, hard, pent-up cum, when tongues of fire seem to shoot out from her swollen, happy clit, but a straining heat in her breasts, in her throat, under her arms, down her flanks, into the crack of her ass, all up her petaled sex channel where the red labia seemed hugely swollen, ready to burst with blood and frantic ecstasy.
If I cum now, I'll break his hand, she warned herself, and the responsibility calmed her.
"Work your fingers up and down," she whispered, smiling at him weakly. "What do you feel?"
"Something round and hard and slick," he said. "It's got a tiny hole in it. No, not a hole, it's like a slit. Like in the head of my cock," he said excitedly.
He was closing his fingers around it, caressing it with brutal thoroughness, as she would squeeze a girl's titty, and the sensation was devastating Mala could only lie with her eyes shut, her mouth opening and closing, and feel a tide of electric heat run through her body, seeming to open her like some huge, devouring cunt.
"Pull your hand out, baby. Real slow. Real easy. Ohhhh! Oh, my God! Hold me down! Hold me down! Let me cummmm!"
The big boy had built a sensitivity to her needs that made him react simply, quickly. Without thinking, he plunged his mouth to her cunt, spread wide open by the withdrawal of his hand, and kept it there while her body thrashed and her throat seemed to split with her cries of anguished pleasure.
The girl-juice, thick, sweet, slippery, seemed to pour from her dark-red cunt in a gush, and te swallowed steadily not wanting to let one precious drop escape.
"She's cumming! he said to himself as he sucked, and knew such a deep satisfaction in making her body, her mind, her soul go through these deep spasms that he said it aloud, against the muffling swellings of engorged membrane: "She's cumming! She's cumming!"
He was so proud of making her cum that he was very tender with her. He lay by her, holding her body, which still trembled uncontrollably, while she hid her face on his chest and sobbed, trying to get oxygen into her starved lungs.
At last, when she had control of herself again, she looked up at him, almost as if he were the teacher, and she the pupil. "That was pretty wild, wasn't it?" she asked. Her voice was still uncertain. "Oooohh!" her body jerked briefly. "That was another one. I seemed to cum for a half-hour!" She kissed him. "Baby, you sure got a mouthful of female cum!"
"I got a bellyful," he said happily. "Wow! That was so great, Mala! I had my whole hand up you! Clear out of sight inside your belly! Your cunt!" His tone was worshipful.
"Don't ever tell anybody," she said, smiling. 'They won't believe you. God, I'd forgotten that feeling!" She shuddered and clutched his arm with both hands. "I just seem to keep on cumming. Your hand on my womb! God!"
He was excited. "That was your womb?" he wanted to know. 'That hard, slick little thing? Golly, Mala, that's where babies grow?" he was so interested that she wondered if his hard-on had disappeared, but, when she fumbled for it, it was still like a flexible core of hard rubber, sheathed in super-soft, thick skin.
She frigged him gently, smiling, thinking her own deep, warm, happy thoughts. "You came out of one just like that, Jerry," she assured him. "You dad planted a seed in your mom."
He began to laugh. "Cut it out, Mala," he said. "We're not in some dumb sex education class Wow! My Old Man fucked my Old Lady! Whee! That must have been good! He shot his jism into her, it went into her womb, and out I came!"
Mala looked at him with deep affection. "Most boys don't take it that easily," she said. 'The} don't want to think that their wonderful mother does that dirty stuff. That fucking."
"Hah!" he said. "You ought to see my mom naked! She's got a body as good as yours. Man! Her tits are just great!" He fell silent. "Maybe I'm getting carried away," he said sheepishly.
Mala shook his cock. "Look how you've held on to that load," she said admiringly. "You know what I was trying to show you a while ago?"
"No. It was great, but I don't know why you did it."
"Remember how we were? Both of us, about to cum too quick? And I squeezed your fingers with my Littly Juicy?"
He patted the wet, open cunt. "Yeah. And then you opened it up -whoa! Could you make it big like that so it didn't jerk and squeeze my prick?"
"Yes!" she said. "Yes! You could put it in, I could lie still, we could just let your wonderful cock soak; soak until it got used to the feel, used to the heat. And then-oh, baby! Then we could fuck and fuck and fuck!" She was bumping up at him again, and stopped, laughing. 'There I go," she said. "Hey, you never told me how many times you could cum."
"I know," he said. He looked thoughtful, sitting between her opened thighs, rubbing his smooth body warmly against her. "Sometimes, when I seem to be full of it, I've jerked off as much as, well, maybe four times in a day. Jerking off was all I could do," he explained.
She held him by squeezing her knees together. "You'll never have to jerk off again, not for the next five years," she promised him. "And by that time, you'll have girls jumping out from under your bed, out of your clothes closet!"
He laughed. "None of 'em will ever be as good as you," he said. "Hey, let's put it in, want to?"
He had gained confidence, and now he got on his knees, aiming his big cock with one hand, using the other to hold open the thick, hairy lips, which had begun to close again.
"Put it in easy," Mala said thickly. "Oh, God, how I want it! I hope you've got it under control. I feel like I might bounce your ass against the ceiling!" Her body quivered.
"Oh, man, this is great," he said. His cock was going into her; he was watching the thick, pink labia go into the cunt, dragged by the friction of his big cock. It was marvelous. "It feels -it feels-oh, Jesus, Mala, don't pinch it!"
"I'm trying!" she gasped. "Hang loose! Don't shove so hard. Hold it in there, easy!"
In spite of her efforts at control, it was very hard not to let her ravening cunt go berserk. Her nerve-ends, rasped to a point of super-joy by that massive insertion of his hand, cried out against being held apart by her willpower.
Suddenly, so easily that she giggled, control came back.
"Whoo-ee!" gasped the boy. 'That's more like it. It feels as big as a bucket. But good and hot an slick. And kind of throbbing, too. How do you do that, Mala?"
"I don't," she whispered. "God does, or whoever made us like we are. That's just an automatic response. I can walk around with a ballpoint pen in my snatch, and never drop it. And if I were in practice, you could get your whole fist up me. But even then, it'd throb. Say, Jerry, you feel good in there! You've got a real man's cock! Are you all right?"
He moved his powerful young loins, the rub of his cock inside her sheath giving her a flush of warm delight. "I'm okay. I felt like cumming a minute ago, but this soaking in that sweet little hole, it's kind of saved me. Wow, is this ever good!" He pumped slowly, raising his strong young buttocks until the head of his cock was just at her vaginal rim, and pushed in, all the way. "I'm bumping against your womb," he said proudly. "Can you feel it?" He hammered in again.
Her body, pushing up her warm belly, trembling against his, her bush of damp pubic hair, mingling with his, gave him her answer. His loins could feel where her strong thighs joined her perfect torso. He rubbed against it, seeing their joining in his mind-the cunt, hot and sweated and raw with heat and nerve-stretch, its thick red lips pulling out as he pulled out, its clear juice following, wetting his balls; the column of his cock going in dark with his raised blood heat, coming out slick and shining with the juice from inside her cunt, deep in there where the womb lay hidden, where his fingers had pinched and pushed at its hard slickness.
"It's tightening up again," he whispered nervously. "My cock's beginning to swell up and itch. I know how it feels when I'm about to shoot it."
"What do you care?" she asked fiercely. "You've made me cum a couple of times since you've had it in; do you know that? You're banging my womb, stretching the end of my vagina!"
The kid began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Mala asked.
"I never heard you call it a vagina before," he said. "What happened to your cunt?"
He banged into her very solidly, very purposefully, and kept it up, rising high so that the top of his cock dragged at her clitoris, building a burst that would shake her apart, as she well knew.
She had her legs around his, now, holding him tight, so that his motions were restricted, but his mound ground on hers.
He was rotating his hips, his hard cock stirring in her, around and around, hitting all her walls rubbing and jabbing at her cervix, and her voice was rising along with her heat.
She felt a huge wave of cum heat flash through her, and opened her mouth to scream, but hi young mouth came down on hers, covering it, so she screamed into him, blowing up her feeling of being filled and made happy by the build-up of cunt-power, of the crazy need to cum. Her ass was tight with her exertions, the clench of her buttocks was in the same delightful rhythm with the pulsing of her cunt. Once again, as when his finger was inside of her, those muscles of love were on their own, driven by the fierce pangs of pleasure that made the rub of his cock so incredibly wonderful.
There was a steady, palpitating roll of cunt around the boy's cock, and he had long since given up any effort to hold back. Seconds seemed like hours as the fire of orgasm ran its fiery trace from his balls to the tight, blood-filled head of his organ; the sucking and grinding of her vagina gave every crying nerve in his glans a powerful urge to flow, to shoot, to pour his seed into this female receptacle, so that he too was groaning as his lust flowered and burst.
Her legs were losing their grip as cunt-heat and cum-juice flowed out of her, as her belly shook and trembled, and her taut muscles, tightening and relaxing, tightening and relaxing, continued to give his prick its constantly sucking, pulsing, pulling caresses, milking him, milking his pounding cock as the long, fierce jets of sperm poured out of him and into her, draining him of semen and feeling and energy.
He lay with his full weight on her body, and her breasts, vastly swollen by her heat and her tremendous orgasm, sensitive with the same sort of sex-glow that warmed her relaxing, free flowing pussy, knew the gut-stirring joy of deep sex pain, a run of heat from their trembling weight, their silken smoothness, all the way across her belly and down to her crotch, where weak and dying rumbles of lust still echoed in the slick, gooey sleeve which still embraced the boy's dick, now slowly, reluctantly diminishing.
They had stopped kissing, just as they had stopped screaming, because there was nothing more to say, not after that massive burst of cum-power, but both were conscious, in their half-dazed state of voluptuous pleasure, that the final vestiges of her tightness were gradually squeezing the last remains of his hard-on out of her. It slipped a little and then stopped, and both were happily aware of the feel of hot flesh on hot flesh, of tired but happy nerves on each other.
CHAPTER FOUR
He had completely lost all self-consciousness, Mala noted with deep pride. Pride for him, pride for herself. It couldn't be easy for a young, sensitive boy to convert so quickly to the earthy interchange of male and female. Some men, as she knew, never made it. But Jerry Jonas did.
"I've got to piss," he said, sitting up, giving her an affectionate spank on the smoothness of her rump as she lay on her side.
"Let me kiss him, first," Mala said, caressing his prick. She was joyful to be asking, and, by asking, to further solidify the foundation of adulthood and equality she was trying to build for them both.
She looked up at him as she sucked him, noting the film of clean sweat all over him, enjoying the sharp smell of lust that hung between them. Her own cunt flavors were rubbed into his dark pubic hair, slathered on this large, soft cock she was sucking so gently, so firmly, and it thrilled her, as it always had. To be a woman, to have a mature cunt, to generate the richness of taste and aroma that sex and sex organs gave, that was a contemplation which made her grateful in every fiber.
His testicles, quite large for a boy of fifteen which had been drawn so tightly against his pole as the storm of cumming grew in them, now hung low in their relaxed sac, and she took them softly into her hand, holding their weight, loving their for what they were, the atomic energy which made this boy a natural adept at the slogging, lusty joy of fucking.
"It tastes so good," she sighed, taking the limp but still fat organ from her lips. "Some of me on it, and some of you. I love the taste of your cum."
He stood above her, happy, feeling like a real man for the first time in his life. "If you lie on your back," he said, "I can suck up a lot of it for you right out of your pussy." He laughed. "It ought to be nice and warm. Would you like that?"
Since it was exactly what she had been hoping, the idea struck through her with a little flash of cunt pleasure, and she hugged him hard around his naked hips, pressing her face into the soft and aromatic bush of hair.
With an athlete's ease and precision, she rolled back, holding her cunt lips open, willfully dramatizing the raw glory of her genitals. There was a hard glare of late afternoon sun coming into the room; she knew that her vaginal orifice, gaping open after her breathtaking orgasm, would throw back a live glow like red neon. And that lumps of drying semen would lie like little gifts of taste and savor in the troughs of her inner lips, now returning to normal size and appearance.
The boy lowered his shining face between the raised thighs, glanced up just once to smile into her delighted eyes, and softly placed his lips around the open hole, usually so primly closed by the little pink bubbles of slick membrane.
He made his first suck hard and long lasting, as she had hoped he would, and it gave her a brief burst of orgasmic joy.
He knee-walked up to her face and leaned above her, smiling, holding his mouth tightly shut.
With a little moan of joy, she reached up and took his head in her arms, pulling him down, getting her mouth on his, going in between his lips with her tongue, opening a tiny sluice for the jism to leak into her mouth, over her taste buds, getting that first slickness, that richness of flavor, his and hers.
Simply because it seemed so right, she felt for his cock and found it, holding it gently, squeezing as she sipped their combined cum-flow. It was a soft, warm handful, and she milked at it with tenderness and feeling, going clear up to his belly with each stroke, her thumb and first finger meshing in the wetness of the hair at the base of his cock. All of it was hers to have and love, the closeness of this warm, smooth skinned boy, the fertile rankness of the smells from his secret places and from hers, the glories of the flesh, even to the hair under his arms and under hers.
There was the steamy acridity of sweat, sharp as wild onions, and the faint nitric aroma of urine. Some day, she thought, I'll lie in the tub and have this big boy stand over ME AND PISS IN MY FACE.
It was such a heady thought that she gulped and sucked in the last few drops of the mixture of semen and girl-flow, and almost cried out in exasperation. But it had a compensation.
As she frequently did when she was excited and loose with the forces of lust, her bladder had leaked a dozen or more golden drops of her urine into the lips of her twat.
She kissed the boy and whispered: "One more suck, my darling; there's some more cum still up me!" and shivered with expectant lechery as the compliant lad moved around to where she held her legs back her cunt apart. It was chicken shit, in a mild way, since he was too drunk on sex to care and too innocent to know. A little of my piss can't hurt him she told herself determinedly.
Sooner or later, he'll have to drink a quart of it! And anyhow, I want a taste!
To her deep joy, he made a very visible jerk, or leap, as he sucked in something new, but immediately ploughed his face into her streaming slit with more vigor, and his tongue's play proved that he was showing appreciation for something, even if he didn't know what it was.
This time, when he came back with his pursed lips in a smile of fervid beauty, and put his mouth to hers, she tasted the harshly aphrodisiac bite of her very own piss, mixed with the tapioca slickness of the buds of semi-solid cum that he had dredged out of her with his tongue.
Without asking, she walked into the bathroom with him and stood by him, her hip touching his buttocks, holding and aiming his cock as it swelled and throbbed to eject the golden stream from his bladder. He laughed happily as she squeezed it, turning his head and leaning down to kiss her. He was saying "thanks," she knew, for his raunchy, complete introduction to sex, and she caught her trembling lower lip between her teeth as she thought of the days to come, when she would draw him deeper and deeper into a more kinky type of sex. He was so wonderful now that she could not be sure she wanted him to change; she had known of men who, once they had gone over the line of normality, either could not or would not call a halt.
She looked at Jerry with a mother's smile, and asked softly: "Do boys wipe with toilet paper? and felt not at all guilty as she feigned innocence. knowing that the boy needed to be in a position of leading, or thinking he was leading.
He held her soft, warm hand on his dick and flipped it, showing what boys did. "Oh, you shake it!" she cried. "You shake off that last drop! Oh, it's so pretty!"
Her guts ached with the pleasant aftermath of this intense fuck, so much better than she ever dared expect from a boy. There was still a motion of sucking deep inside her; it was the time she loved, when a truly resounding orgasm had cleared her, at least temporarily, of the demands of lust.
She went to the bed and lay against a couple of enormous pillows, and watched him with deep pleasure and satisfaction as he leaned, unconcerned, to look at his face in the mirror of the tall antique dresser. "I feel so good," she said in a low, quiet voice. "So very, very good, my dear! Do you know it's almost time for dinner?"
He threw himself down beside her. "I'll have a hell of an appetite tonight," he said. "I hope you haven't spoiled your appetite, swallowing that jism. It's pretty rich stuff, isn't it?"
She patted his prick, now boyishly soft again, soft and sweet.
"I've been swallowing it ever since I was ten years old," she said boldly, determining to solidify the basis of reality on which their friendship rested. "It never spoiled my appetite yet!" She watched his face as he took in the fact that she had belonged, in sex, to many others, and rejoiced when his reaction was a quick smile.
"I guess girls have it better than boys," he said. "All they have to do is lie down and pull their panties off, and there'll always be some guy to take care of them. Boys have to suck around, and buy 'em stuff, and take 'em to dances. And then, nine times out of ten, they laugh at you when you try to take hold of them. Get your finger in their cunts, I mean."
Mala pulled him down to her and kissed him. "Aren't you even going to ask who introduced me to sucking and fucking?" she asked. "Put your hand over my pussy," she requested. "Not hard; you don't have to stick a finger into it; just give it a little tender loving pressure."
He laughed delightedly. "All right, you don't want to talk about girls having it easier than boys. Getting it easier than boys, I should say." He laughed at his little joke. "So tell me, who got you started?"
"I did," Mala answered promptly. "And you and every other boy who lets a girl's 'no' put him down is out of his gourd. I don't believe there's a girl alive who, somehow, somewhere in her, doesn't want to get fucked. Or rather, I expect they want to fuck someone, to give of themselves. I'll bet there are a few guys in your school, even in your group, who instinctively know this, am I right?
They're the guys who get all the fucking they need, and more."
"Y-e-e-s," Jerry said slowly. He was unconsciously working a finger into the sweetly hum i cleft just where it began, in the thick mound of soft tissue that held the thickest part of Males blonde cunt hair. "I know a couple. They don't talk about it much. They never say they've fucked some girl. But other guys, fellows who go down to Garth's farm when there's a gang-fuck going, or a group-grope, or just a plain old get-together, see these guys with their chicks. That's one way you know they've screwed so-and-so. But there's another way."
He laughed, and his voice was thick with interest, so Mala didn't prod him.
"You know what it is? The girls tip it off! I never thought of it until now, right this minute! Wow!"
He snuggled down alongside the woman's breast, hefting the weight of the one nearest him, his breath coming quicker, and took a long, sweet, kissing suck at the nipple, shrunken in size from what the fuck had left it, and turned his face to kiss into the haired sweetness of her armpit. "It's like a cunt," he whispered. "Isn't it? That's why girls let hair grow under their arms. What do you think?"
"Maybe," Mala answered, playing with his brown curls, damp with his sweat. "Maybe it's just that they like to be natural. Tell me how the girls tip it off." "Why, hell!" the boy cried. "I'm so fucking dumb. I bet I can tell you almost every girl who's been fucked in our school. And what guy fucked her. Yes, sir, it's a cinch!"
He looked away, collecting his thoughts, then turned back. 'Take a guy, let's call him Timmy Schultz. Girls like him, and he likes them, but he doesn't go steady. All of a sudden, some little chickie, say her name's Lennia Bruce, starts to come up to Timmy every chance she gets, walking down the hall, coming out of a class, on the campus, by the buses, and she just stands by him and looks at him like she could eat him up. Not jealous-or what's the word?"
"Possessive," Mala supplied.
"Yeah! Possessive! Not possessive, I mean. Just sweet, like she loved him. Putting her arm around him, looking up at him like he was the only guy in the world. Yes, and bringing him a Coke in the cafeteria or at a ball game. Then, a week or two later, without any breakup at all, there's a new girl following old Timmy around, hugging him, patting him, bringing him stuff! And the first girl doesn't seem to mind. That's funny!"
In his excitement at the discovery, Jerry had sat up, but Mala pulled him down again, his body smooth and warm against hers, their sweat now drying, leaving their closely contacted skins with a dry, warm humanity of feeling that made Mala shiver.
"Not so funny," she said with a smile. "The girl wanted it. Which is like I said. They liked Timmy but what they wanted was to become women, to feel that marvelous sense of being attached to a man-a boy-by one of these wonderful gadgets She stroked his prick, holding it up, letting it drop in its warm, fat limpness. "And Timmy knew this. He didn't take advantage of the girl, or of her nature. He simply saw that something very lovely and loving was ripe and ready to be plucked."
"Whew!" Jerry blew his breath out noisily. "I'd like to pluck a few of them, myself! There's some real choice chicks in Oakdale. Hey, you aren't getting the idea that these guys are cherry pickers, are you?" he asked. "Most of these girls are around thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Don't you suppose they've been fucked before?"
"Maybe so, maybe not. What difference does it make? Do you think it's wrong for a guy to get a maidenhead? Or a girl to give one up? Ho- to! They're an embarrassing nuisance. Most girls break them with their fingers, or a hairbrush handle, or a douche nozzle, just to get rid of them."
Jerry looked slightly dazed, but his young cock had grown slightly, just in the last few minutes. "What a waste," he muttered. "It would be so great to break one!"
He turned to Mala, gripping her fiercely, kissing her hard, running his tongue deep into her surprised mouth. His left hand automatically went down between her thighs, so warm and gently sweated where they pressed together, and his hand, rough and demanding, spread her cunt so suddenly that she jerked and heaved, trying to escape. His long right arm was clear around her, under her shoulders, and he forced it further so that his hand could grab her breast in a painful, happy grip.
Glad of what was happening, once she realized its portent, Mala pressed herself closer to his smooth, heated body, opening her thighs and humping her bottom to make the slippery grip of her cunt available to the boy's fingers.
He held her for long, long seconds, furiously tonguing her, fucking his ringers in and out of her suddenly fired-up pussy, in a paroxysm of youthful lust.
He let her go and sat up, grinning, wiping her spit and his from his lips, making a big show of sniffing at his dripping fingers, then of licking off the cooling glaze of cunt-oil from his fingers.
"You tried to get your whole hand in, didn't you, Jer?" Mala said. "You know, I'm not loose unless I forced myself to relax and open up."
Immediately, his boyish face fell. "Golly, I'm sorry, Mala," he said earnestly. "I didn't mean to hurt you!"
She patted his prick, now much fatter, and smiled. "Don't worry, baby," she said. "Outside of some murderous guy really trying to ruin a girl, it's hard to damage one of these." She patted her pussy. "And hurting a little bit, I mean for a guy to get hot and rough and just a little over-eager, is some of the best fun there is. I know a couple of things that, well, things we can do later. Hey, look at the time! We have to go to dinner!"
They walked hand in hand to the big house, Mala in a thin summer dress that gave tier breasts full play to swing and jounce and jiggle, and their hard rub against the fabric made her nipples pop out.
Jerry had suggested it might be better if he left first and went in through the kitchen. "Old Miz Charles might start wondering about us," he said, so like a small boy that Mala hugged him and kissed his cheek.
"What would you think if I told you that you could fuck 'Old Miz Charles' as you call her and that it'd be wonderful?" she asked him.
He stopped short and looked at her as if she were crazy.
"You've got to be kidding!" he exploded. laughing. "Why, she's older than my mom! A woman that old!" and then he blushed.
"You've thought about it, haven't you?" Mala guessed shrewdly. "What did you do - see her naked, too?"
Jerry began to laugh and cupped his hand under the firm cheek of her ass, wiggling his fingers in between, into the softness between her legs, feeling warm, slick moisture strike through the light fabric. "Man, you know it!" he gasped. "And you're right, too; I did think about it. You know something-she's not bad."
He stood still in thought for a moment, then said: "Hey, Mala, what're you trying to do, get rid of me? Listen, just because I said I'd like to stick it into some of those little chickies at school - hey, that was just talk. None of them's half as good as you. I'll bet on that!"
She took his arm affectionately. "Jerry, I promise you, if I could help you get one of those kids, I'd do it in a minute. And maybe I can. Girls talk to me; they'd better. If I'm going to coach any gymnast, they have to talk to me."
They are in a large, bright room which was actually a bay on the big formal dining room, with a view out across the lawns to the surrounding ring of ancient oaks and Monterrey pines. Mrs.
Charles served them, as well as Mr. Charles, and then sat down with them without self-consciousness. Mala was interested to see that the cuddly little woman had changed into a less severe dress, a blue cotton with a deep scoop neck, and with more room for her big, soft breasts to show themselves. They had no sag, and Mala was impressed.
When the meal was over, and it was getting dark, Mala said good night, smiling impartially around the table, and went out into the fragrant evening, listening to the whir of random insect the rustle of some small animal in the dead leaves in a thicket, deeply enjoying the scents and sounds and quiet of the soft darkness.
She felt warm and content, in the way that only a full-blooded woman can know after a long and happy use of her body.
"A lot to be said for fucking in the afternoon," she murmured to herself, half aloud. "Gives you a chance to think about it, feel it again, enjoy it all over for the second time."
She suddenly was swept by a desire for sleep. It had been, after all, a long day, a hard day, a day of surprises. And of the deepest sort of satisfactions.
CHAPTER FIVE
What awakened Mala, she was never exactly sure. She liked to sleep in a very short shortie nightgown, so full that it seemed naturally to climb up around her neck, above her boobs as she slept, so that she was essentially naked. The big bed was comfortable, exactly the degree of firmness she liked, the big pillows were perfect, the lightweight blanket and the smooth percale sheets lending their touch to luxury and sensuality.
"A bed like this almost seems to suck a girl right into sleep," she whispered to herself, just before she closed her eyes.
It must have been quite late, well after midnight, when she sat bolt upright in bed. She was not afraid; her entire approach to the world was one of inviting curiosity, and she generally returned to consciousness as though she were keeping an appointment for something pleasant and exciting.
Whatever remnants there remained of Jerry'? semen, along with her own regular flow of girl juice, had coagulated to form a light seal from he vaginal portal to the very top of her warm slit But in sitting up, the softly muscled cheeks of he lovely ass had spread, and this fragrantly glue protection had given up, sending a shiver of pleasure through her sleepy but sexually alert body.
She lay quietly, thinking that no one could get into her snug little domain, but then began to worry about whether she had checked the three doors, the main entry on the north, toward the big house; her service door at the back, on the east side; and the big sliding glass door of her bedroom, which opened on a small formal garden.
No matter how sexually experienced a woman may be, there is something degrading about the thought of rape by an unknown person and, while Mala Peters was a long way from a virginity, see was more free from the imagined despair and helplessness of a rape victim than she would have been at fifteen.
She was about to reach for her telephone and make a call to the local sheriffs office when there was a scratching noise at her bedroom's wide screen and she heard a whisper: "Mala! Mala, are you awake?"
She recognized the tall shadow against the moonlighted sward and unlatched the screen to welcome the big boy in, somewhat inclined to smile at his temerity. She had gone to sleep within an hour of dinner being over; it was her guess that Jerry, unable to get the scenes and smells and tastes and feels of the afternoon out of his boyish mind, had lain awake with an incipient hard-on which had finally sent him prowling in the night, a thirst for pussy.
She opened her arms as he came in, and felt the warmth of his body through his clothes. She was right; he did have a most authoritative hard-on, and she kissed him with one hand on it, then disengaged her mouth to say: "What took you so long? I thought you'd never get here!"
He giggled at the irony and sat on her bed beside her, putting his hand down between her thighs, into that warmest of places outside the body.
"You said you didn't want me ever to jerk off again," he said, "and from what I know of you, you wouldn't say a thing like that if you didn't mean it."
She pulled the drapes over the expanse of plate glass and once more latched the screen. She switched on a bedside lamp with a pink silk shade, the soft light giving a warm glow to her perfect skin. She stood between Jerry's thighs, put her arms around his neck, and whispered: "Feel me, baby. See if I'm ready enough for you!"
He groaned in startled ecstasy as his fingers went into the warm, slick flow from her cunt. And a few days from now, buster, you might get a bloody shock, she thought wickedly, wondering just how maturely this smooth-cheeked lad would react to such a fact of life as a female's menses. Probably wouldn't do too badly; he's taken everything in stride so far."
He was fumbling with his zipper with his other hand, keeping the first one busy in the softness, the lushly lubricated open part of her twat, and she whispered, "Let me!" and knelt before him, opening his fly, letting his big cock rear up.
She could not hold back a small cry of triumphant lust as the red head popped up on its hard supporting column, and she went down on it, open-mouthed, so hard that it shocked her with the jar against the back of her throat.
"Peel off, darling," she smiled, getting up. "Do you like my nightie? Or would you rather see me in the raw?"
He placed his big, boyish hands on her hips pressed them against her, then ran them up along the curve of her waist, his thumbs going into the softness, the rich firmness of the lower part of her remarkable breasts, a look of dazed happiness on his face. "I still can't believe it," he said in hoarse whisper. "I still can't believe I can have all this, all this wonderful stuff, whenever I want it.
Leave the gown on," he said. "It makes you look sexier. At least I think so. Listen, can I look at it real close? And then suck it?"
She helped him with his clothes, and they lay down together, laughing, moving into different positions just for the love of hugging and kissing and touching; touching with hands, legs, arms, eyes, lips, even complete bodies.
"This marvelous, unbelievable thing!" Mala crooned, holding the boy's cock to her breast, pressing its soft red head deep into the hot and sensitive flesh, pulling it away and up to kiss away the leaking drop of clear fluid in its little "eye." "I thought you were kidding about getting it up four or five times in a day. Not many grown men can do that. Damn few!"
She pushed him over, laughing, and lifted one thigh quickly across his face, holding her pinkly dripping cunt open with thumbs and forefingers just at his mouth.
"Oh, wait!" she cried, and leaped off the bed to switch on a brighter light. "Oh, I can see this in the mirror!"
She opened herself over his eager mouth again, and by now she was so hot that a couple of drops of her cunt-ooze actually dripped from her spread-open lips. He strained his head up from the bed, getting a big mouthful of soft, slickly leaking cunt-flaps, and she felt the beat and wipe of his tongue in that super-sensitive area.
"Oooohh, baby, suck me good," she whispered, watching the action of his cheeks and throat muscles in the mirror, at last closing her eyes in deep ecstasy. "Suck hard," she murmured. "And then you can stick that great big beautiful hard cock in me, and fuck me, and fuck me, and fuck me! OHHHHHHH! OH MY GOD! OHHHHHHHH! I'M CUUMMIIINNNGG!"
He had wrapped his strong young arms around her thighs, holding her off his face, holding her in spite of the wild leaping and jerking of her body as the powerful thrust of orgasm whipped her body from head to foot.
The cunt at his mouth, writhing so fiercely that her muscles seemed to be trying to swallow his tongue, was a sweet mine of taste and texture and savory, fuck-flavored aromas; the huge tendons in her strong thighs stood out where they joined the generously haired cunt lips and belly. He knew just from his brief experience, that this wild storm would pass, and, when it did, he laid her softly on her face, then got up to turn off the overhead light.
There was enough illumination for him to see and engrave on his memory the perfect beauty of her trained athlete's body; the straight back, so subtly muscled that it would have been a sculptor's dream; the soft, warm curves of her buttock as they rose gently from her hips; the almost invisible fuzz of blonde hair at the top of the deep cleft of her ass. There was the headiest miasma in the world rising from between those perfect globes. Ripening fuck-perfume from this afternoon, the subtle girl-scent of good soap and fresh sweat, the earthiness that hangs around the daintiest asshole, the throat-clogging scent of a freshly heated cunt, turned out wide open by nothing in the world but the body heat that spreads the come-find-me, come-fuck-me odors that arouse every warm-blooded mammal.
The shaping of those gorgeous buttocks made a double curve just like the underside of her tits, the boy thought. They were bigger and firmer and had no nipples, but they surely were like tits. He wanted to say so, but he felt that this love of his was asleep, or resting after her powerful orgasm, so instead, he kissed, deep and hard, exactly where that compound curve intersected the sweet, straight line from the base of her spine down to her knees.
In that soft and scented cavern, his lips pressed against the open fullness, the wet hairs, of her cuntlips, and he sat up and grinned, baring his white teeth as he licked the lightly flavored cunt smear from his lips.
Carefully, he straddled her body just at its widest part, and fumbled his hard cock down into the dark intersection where he had thrust his mouth into the juiciness of Mala's pussy.
I never knew a woman was built this way, he thought. Cunt at the back as well as at the front.
He remembered some of the books and magazines he and his peers passed around from time to time. Shit, everyone knew about fucking dog fashion. How stupid can you get? This was just the same, only with the lady lying flat.
Not because he needed to help his cock into that wet slot, but simply because he loved the warm feel of that ultra slick juice, those tender folds of membranous tissue so sloppy with the fresh dew of love, he fumbled with his fingers as he eased into her.
He was amazed that his cock entered so well and so deeply, almost as much as if he were fucking her from the front, with her thighs raised. She was awake, too, and aware of what was happening, for her body began to heave and move, and he felt the powerful, sucking grip of those fantastic muscles inside her, and heard a throaty giggle of pleasure.
Exalted, he lay on her back, getting the most from this complete contact of warm skin on warm skin, supporting much of his weight on his elbows while his hands pushed under her, under her softly mashed down breasts, edging under their softness, finding the expanded nipples, pinching their hardness in a wild gust of heat that made his cock swell with cum-promise, made his balls suddenly seem tight and overly full.
"You doll," Mala whispered, and he could see the smile on her face, pressed against the sheet. "You're in me so deep! Can you feel that?"
She heaved up and rotated her ass in a way that brought a cry of joy from the pleased youth "I hit your womb," he panted. "Oh, golly, Mala, I feel like I'm clear at the end of your cunt!"
She worked her body gently, fucking up and down, her inner muscles laving and licking and drawing at his cock. "Let go of my boobs," she said hoarsely. "When I raise my butt, slide your fingers under my pussy, try to find my clit! Ooooh, baby! That's it! Now, just work your body around and around -against my butt, so that you aren't pulling in and out. That's it, honey, that's just wonderful!"
She rotated her ass slowly, in counter-movement to his.
"Jerry, darling?" she whispered. "Do you know what you're doing? Do you realize that you're fucking me soooo gooood! And holding back? Ooooooh, Jerry, that's wonderful!"
He laughed confidently. 'The other two times, I was just too hot," he said. "But listen, Mala, I'm getting pretty hot right now."
"Which is best?" she asked, arching her back so that his cock slipped part way out, and dropping beck to the bed, so that he slid in again, jamming her cervix. "Fucking or cumming?"
He had begun to groan. "I don't know," he said harshly. "I wish I could fuck all night. But I want to cum, so bad that I can taste it!"
She was able to laugh, and her laughter eased him.
"Let me cum," she whispered. "I'll try to control it. Then, if you haven't cum yet, I'll have a surprise for you. Ohhhh! Don't SHOVE, baby! You don't HAVE TO! Hang on!"
There was no question that she was coming; Jerry could feel the long, swirling grip of cunt muscle, but somehow, it left him free, riding along, pressed hard against her ass, his cock enjoying the soft, wet, slippery turbulence of heat and sucking deep up her wildly shuddering cunt. And he was in control.
She was groaning, her eyes tight shut, her face pouring sweat, and his hands, under her soft sweating belly, buried in her moist hot slit, could actually feel her clitoris jerking out its heavy rhythm of orgasm, until at last it slowed and turned limp, disappearing under his probing fingers, until she cried out: "Stop! It's killing me!
He ceased all movement, troubled, but his cock near to bursting, continued to throb and tremble hotly inside her slack vagina, moving a little with every hard heartbeat. Her lips moved and he heard her whisper softly: "Get up, darling, and let me turn over! Don't go away, just take that marvelous cock out for a second or two. I want to see you, to kiss you! Please!"
He braced his body on his hands and arms as if he were doing a pushup, looking down along his sweated chest to look at his cock, now a deep red from his exertions. It was wet and slick and, as he looked, it gave a big throb.
His beautiful friend was turning over, her sweet body facing him, and she was smiling up so tenderly that he could have cried.
"Sink it into me, Jerry; just let it go in. Let me guide it. Oh, how perfectly marvelous it feels! There, baby. Kiss me!"
Her mouth was soft and sweet and girlish, her tongue soft, slippery, wet with her delightful saliva. He knew what she wanted; just to be in contact, and he sucked gently on her tongue and lips, moving his tongue lightly around in her cheeks, probing up along her gums, sucking, sucking, loving.
"Put one leg between mine, dear," she whispered, one soft hand on his forehead. "Now, the other. I want to lie wide open for a minute or two and let you fuck into me. Feel how slack I am? Feel all that juice pumping out?" She kissed him with the same gentleness, rubbing her mouth from side to side, giving him her tongue to nibble on.
"It's wonderful," the boy said simply. "A minute ago, I thought I couldn't hold it. But you helped me, didn't you?"
He arched his back so that he could kiss along her shoulder and upper arm, the wild acridity of sweat in her haired armpit a shivery little treat, and he licked into the puff of blonde hair, his hair rising at the delicacy of sweat-salt. It made his strong young prick swell in an unexpected throb, and he made his body lie still against her belly, trying not to move enough to pull his cum-trigger.
She sucked on his ear and ran her two hands up along his smooth body, then down his back, fingering the crack of his ass, delicately probing in and down to his anus, then further on, touching the area where the hidden base of that long cock went up for its rendezvous with the prostate gland which shoots the jism. "Hold it, Mala," he pleaded huskily. "It feels so wonderful, so slick and hot, and my prick feels so great, don't make me cum! Not for a couple of minutes."
"Fuck in and out real easy, darling," she whispered. "Letting it lie in there and doing anything, you'll think yourself into it. There Ohhh! See what I meant by a treat?"
He laughed. "It's all a treat," he said. "Golly Up until today, all I ever did was think about it and jerk off and look at a few dumb pictures of cunts, of people fucking. Now, look at me! All of the real thing I ever imagined and never dreamed I'd get! Oh, Mala!" He kissed her with warmth and love, his young tongue going in around her, his cock quivering deep, deep up her cunt, its head nestling hard against her womb.
When he released her mouth, she held his head tenderly.
"Right after I cum," she said, "my pussy is soooo relaxed so slick, so full of juice that it's just like you were sticking it into a bowl of warm custard. It's good for you to be able to fuck and feel good, to enjoy being in me without getting the hard squeeze that makes you cum quick. But you can still feel it's me, feel my heart beat. And I can feel you, so big and manly, so hard and long and grown up, really giving me a fuck as good as the best I ever had."
"Oh, baby!" he crooned softly, "even your talk is making me feel like cumming! Let me pull out a little. Whew! That's so sloppy-hot, so good. And when I cum, what'll you do? Will you get off, too? I sort of feel selfish, cumming without you!" She bumped up at him playfully. "One of the nicest things a girl can ever know is just to lie quietly and let her lover pour his jism into her, especially when her cunt's all slack because he's nicked her so perfectly," she said. "I'll feel it all through my body. Up in my rectum, in my breasts, between my legs-down my thighs, I mean - 'way up in my guts. Even in my mouth. I just wish you had two pricks, so I could have one in my mouth, one in my pussy, when you cum!"
"Do you want me to fuck real hard into you?" he asked. "I'm sorry to be such a dummy, but I don't even know how to get the most out of what you're giving me. Oh, Mala, you're so good!"
"Give me your mouth, my darling baby," she whispered. "Mala's baby, and Mala's big, big man! Big pricked fucking man! Oooohhh! Maybe I'll lie still and cum, too!" She kissed him slowly and softly, both of their tongues wallowing together in a soft embrace of love, and she thought: This boy knows more right now than most of the men I know!
She opened her mouth and let his tongue go, whispering into his mouth: "When you start to shoot that lovely load into me, just lie still and let it go, let it fill me up, let it run over just because you're so wonderful and grown up and strong!"
She was so hot that she could have turned or all her cuntal pressures and milked him dry of his semen, but she wanted him to have the ineffable experience of a quiet roll-out of his powerful copious young load. "Just think fuck, darling," she whispered. "Just think of how it looks up in me, right now, so pink, the walls of my cunt so loose and leaky, all that juice in me. And your juice, squirting 'way up inside me, flowing against my womb. Feel my titties with your chest; feel 'em with your hands! Ohhh, marvelous! Squeeze hard, hard! Oh, doll, that's it; there it comes!"
She felt his ass cheeks tense, felt his cock swell until it seemed twice as big, knew that this swelling preceded his first hot shot of his slick, rich semen, and then his entire body went rigid with the sharp, desperately pleasurable feeling of his seed bursting through the sensitive tube that pressed the lovely cum-nerves in his cock.
She could feel his hot outpouring of his spurting cock, even in her loose, slippery, deeply relaxed cunt; it was a sort of added heat where all her heat was concentrated, a burst of goodness and sweetness and deep gratitude that she was a woman and had this gift to give, and this gift to receive.
She allowed him to cum and cum and cum and cum, holding back her own sluicing, gathering, compelling fire, forcing her vagina to be quiet, while she kissed him, or rather, let him kiss her while he, glad to follow her instructions, felt all the sweeping, melting delight of an easy, complete, super orgasm.
When he had finished and lay on her with almost all his weight, his drained cock still large enough, still hard enough, she very gently began rubbing her mound against his, getting the rub of his weight, right through the cloak of her cunt lips, onto her ready clitoris. Also, very gently so as not to exert painful pressure on the tingling, sensitive nerves of his cockhead, she began to work those muscles around the aperture of her vagina, which got their joy from the resisting solidity of a hard tool.
She had only been a gasp away from a fulfilling orgasm for some time, and now, with her mind aflame, with her cunt almost turning inside out from the stretching, swelling throbs that had only stopped a moment or two before, she felt the power grow inside her, felt the burn and itch and tautness swell her clit, and it took only a very slight movement of her body, up and down, side to side to get the final, soft friction rub she needed to explode in a long-lasting, deep-swelling fire of cumming.
Their mouths were again joined, their kissing muscles tired and relaxed, but with all the erotic pleasure in lips and cheeks and tongues adding to Mala's long, slow, bursting heave of joy.
While she lay on her back, eyes half closed smiling in a warm haze of contentment, the strong young boy rolled off. "I don't want to mash you," he whispered tenderly, and she held him for a moment by his softening, slippery cock. He gathered that she still had one mild desire, and rolled so that his loins were at her shoulder so that she only had to make a slight movement to get his prick into her open mouth.
She sucked gently, moving her tongue all around the head, once more moving the foreskin back expertly, dabbling her way under and around the cord, licking up all the remaining taste. He took her legs and rolled her back, thighs high, and mashed his face into the well-used cunt, spread open by her position. But he was too tired and sated to do much more than root his mouth into the vein-streaked, passion-swollen labia, inhaling the rankly healthy odors of sperm and girl-juice and rubbed, sweated flesh.
After he was asleep, Mala moved him to the center of the big bed and covered him. She left the bedside lamp on so that she could look at his sweet, manly, beautiful young face, and trace the outlines of his body under the light covers.
She did not get up to drain his load and hers out of her well filled cunt, loving the wet feel of it, knowing her body would absorb most of it.
If he wakes up later and wants some, it'll be nice and sweet and juicy for him she thought.
CHAPTER SIX
When Mala finally awoke, it was the telephone that did it. The lamp was turned off, Jerry was gone, and she had been covered against the early morning chill of the southern California night.
It was Mae Charles, her voice soft and loving, who said: "Any time you're ready, your breakfast is, my dear. Charles has eaten, but Jerry and I are waiting for you."
It was a marvelous meal, with tender pork cutlets browned in their coating of flour and egg, and eggs scrambled in cream, with tender mushrooms and fresh tomatoes laced through hem, and a warm platter of fresh, hot rolls.
As on the day before, they went to school together in the blue sports car, but now there was no necessity for play-acting so that the suggestible youth could see her softly divided, hairy lipped little treasure. Instead, as soon as Mala backed her lovely rump into the seat, Jerry had his searching hand ready, and he groaned in love and lust as his fingers sank into the wealth of slickness and heat.
She turned and kissed him, their tongues rolling against each other, and she drew away smiling. "Part of that goop is right out of your big balls, honey!" she whispered to him. "Don't get me too hot; I might stop and spread my pussy open for you right on the way to school."
He took her hand and put it on his cock, lying, hard and thick against his thigh in his neat gray flannel slacks. "I'll be ready any time you are," he grinned at her. "You know something, Mala? Sex is good for a person! I don't feel sleepy, not one bit!"
She kissed him again, tenderly this time, and looked deep into his eyes. "You'd better believe it always, Jerry," she answered him solemnly. "It's the best tonic in the world for anything that's wrong with you."
At school that day, as he sat at her desk getting final fill-ins on his daily room-and-teacher schedule, he leaned down to whisper: "Look at the girl three people behind me. The little one in the red shirt. And the guy behind her. Tell you about them later."
On the way home, after it was all over for the week, and she would begin, on Monday, to teach physical education and coach the two gym teams, she waited for him to do his talking. But it was only after he had followed her into her luxurious little home that he opened up, sitting on her bed, watching her strip down, opening his fly to let his cock stand up in the warm air.
"That kid, you know, the one I pointed out? Who's she remind you of? The way she's built, I mean."
Mala was honestly puzzled for a moment and then his meaning struck her. The girl, not more than fourteen, had tits like Mae Charles, had a small, gorgeously stacked body like Mae's, with a wide and inviting lushness of hip and a womanly generosity of thigh, very much like the housekeeper.
"By God!" Mala swore. "She looks like Mae Charles. That's what you meant, isn't it?"
He fell on her with glee, feeling her nude body, kissing at her nipples, fingering the soaked farrow of her twat.
"I meant to tell you last night," he said. "I went to bed right after you left, but I couldn't get to sleep. I got up and wandered around, and heard some noises in the gym, so I peeked in. Golly! You shouldn't believe what I saw!" He stroked his cock, which was growing larger. I'll believe it," Mala laughed. "You saw Mae Charles doing exercises, and she was naked. Right?"
"God damn right," he said earnestly. "Wow! You know, last night I said she was too old, and then I admitted I'd peeped on her, and that she gave me a hard-on."
"I know," Mala said. "I remember. I thought it was sweet that you felt that way. That she turns you on like that."
"Turns me on!" he hooted. "Ill bet I've jerked off a million times, thinking of her. Seeing her in my mind!" His voice was tight, tense, urgent. "Didn't you hint that I might, well, no, that's nutty. I must have heard you wrong. Me, a dumb kid thinking about fucking a grown up lady, older than my mom? But I think you said I could. Didn't you?"
"So, all right," Mala laughed. "Remember what I told you-that every girl, no matter what she says or does, really hopes the boy with her will try to get it into her pussy? Well, a lot of ladies think such things, too."
"You said I could fuck her," Jerry said, very low. "I think you're kidding."
"Maybe I'll prove it to you," Mala smiled. "But what's that got to do with the girl, except she looks like Miz Charles?"
The big kid had finished undressing. He was poised, confident, as though he had peeled his clothes off in a woman's bedroom a thousand times. "I want to fuck her, too," he said. "Remember what you promised? That you'd help me get any girl I wanted? Well, I want her! Her name's Sue Carter; her dad's the big insurance man in town. I want to spread her out and open up her little pussy and suck her out and fuck her!"
His voice had raised almost to a shout, and Mala was tickled at his guts, his heat, his determination.
"My goodness," she said, turning her eyes up to Heaven in an ironic display of piety. "How you talk! Do you think she's going to roll right over for you?"
He looked fifteen years old again, dismayed, apologetic.
"That guy behind her. He's the one I told you about."
"The one you said 'we'll call him Timmy Schultz'?" Mala asked. 'The one who knows when the chicks are ripe and ready?"
Yeah," Jerry acknowledged. "His name really is Timmy Schultz. And he's got his big eyes on Sue.
Mala sat for a few seconds, then opened her thighs and pulled the standing boy between them, touching his hard cock to each of her nipples.
"I can get you Miz Charles right now," she said slowly. "But do you remember what you told me about Timmy Schultz and the other guys who really-or at least in your belief-get a lot? That they never tell anyone? You've got to be the same. I mean it. You not only ruin things for yourself by talking; you could cause an awful lot of bigger trouble for someone else."
After Jerry's assurances, it didn't take long for Mala to set things up. It was daring; it meant she had to trust the older woman, had to believe she meant what she said about how hot she was, how much she craved cock, how directly she desired the stud services of young Jerry Jonas.
And Mala was just a little tricky.
"I've decided to give you something nice, something lovely," she told the small, big-titted woman on the phone. "Something you've been wanting." She made her voice low, gave it a throb, created a kissing, sucking noise, and Mae squealed with delight.
"I'll be there before you can count ten!" she cried, and Mala, laughing, pushed Jerry into her luxurious bathroom.
"Come out as soon as you want to," she told him. "You won't need a cue. Let your cock be your guide."
She held the front door open and met the charge of the affectionate, impulsive little housekeeper head on, holding the small, well stacked body against hers while the two of them kissed, a long tonguing, sucking kiss, which left them both breathless.
Very practically, with a bold look that seemed touching to Mala, Mae Charles crossed her hands to her hips as soon as they broke their embrace, and lifted her light summer dress up and off, confirming what the contact had told Mala -underneath the dress, there was only the bare, smooth, warm body of the tiny brownette.
Mala gasped, The little woman had looked very good, even in the conservative dresses she usually affected. But big breasts can be saggy, Qut of shape, unattractive. Not Mae Charles's!
In spite of their billowy size, they were as firm as Mala's, with very wide circles of moon-landscape, nubby flesh in their aureolae surrounding the pink nipples. And her body was simply a picture of sexual delight, with its satiny skin, smoothly rounded little belly, flaring hips, and sweetly rounded thighs.
She stood for a moment, her face aflame with a blush that extended down to her toes, but with merry, loving eyes, and threw herself at the younger woman.
They rolled on the bed, kissing, fingering each other, and, to Jerry's surprise as he stood peeking through a crack in the bathroom door, Mala seemed as eager to explore the housekeeper's cunt as the little woman was for Mala's. He shook his head, grinning, needing no stroking hand to keep his cock up.
"You're lovely, Mae," Mala gasped when the two pinwheeling figures seemed to flow together mouth to mouth, kissing, laughing, looking into each other's eyes. "These boobs, they're beautiful!" She took one of the big pillows of flesh in both hands, squeezing it until the blue-veined flesh squirted out between her fingers, making the little woman shut her eyes and squeal in joy.
Mae had a finger in the blonde woman's cunt, the moving of her wrist and forearm showing that she was carefully, kindly finding the hot spots in and around its entry.
"You're fantastic down here," the small woman whispered. "Oh, my dear, how I wish I had a cock!" She stuck out her little pink tongue and laughed ruefully. "Maybe I can make it up in skill and understanding for what I lack in size and length!"
She tumbled Mala back and victoriously jammed her face into the girl's split. Her own smooth rump, looking ever so much wider due to her crouching over Mala's face, was turned toward the bathroom, as Mala had intended it to be for Jerry's sake, and the young boy, his breath held saw the big, wetly pink pussy protruding out open from its inner heat, glistening with the cunt-dew that was stirring in her from a twisting desire, a wrenching need for sex, for a cock, for a tongue, for anything what would release her from this swelling storm.
Well he thought, Mala said I'd know when to get it on The fire that the wise, gently busy tongue of the hot little woman was stirring in Mala's cunt had glazed her eyes with lust, had closed her mind to any consideration except her own impending orgasm. Through her half-closed lashes, she could see the glories of the little woman's pussy, and her tongue was aching to lap some of that sweetly saline cum-juice that was curling down the wet cunt hairs in clear, slick little drops. It had happened more quickly than she had expected. And her response to the sensuality, the sweetness of this tenderly eager human, this member of her own sisterhood, this cunt-carrying woman, had been more powerful than she could have dreamed.
Thus, when two strong thighs appeared at her cheeks, and a simply beautiful cock, its single eye dripping a clear fluid, appeared above her face, she was shocked simply because her response to Mae's love had shot her into another world.
But she was delighted. She knew that Mae was too deeply buried in the open twat under her lips to notice anything less than a full-sized cock jammed into her. She would not see anything in a mirror, or in her peripheral vision, nor would she feel the weight of a new body on the bed.
Mala, ready to cum, enjoying the creative cunt-sacking of another woman, knowing she was being tenderly carried to the crest of a sweetly fulfilling cum, let her feeling go, let her warmth and heat and slickness flow through her belly, let it twist in her happy cunt muscles, explode in her inflamed mind. And with it, she gently, expertly guided the tip of that hard young cock into the darkly dripping hole that was centered in the pink bubbles of juicy membrane just above her.
And Jerry, as hot as he had ever been, let his preceptress, his procuress, hold his cock as it slowly entered the throbbing vagina.
For a moment, Mae probably felt that Mala had entered her with a dildo of some kind, for she stiffened, then, with her face still plastered in the juicy folds of the younger girl's cunt, wagged her ass in delighted answer. And Mala, keeping up the deceit just for the humorously earthy hell of it, clamped her soft thighs on the curly head. She, too, was almost entirely without a view, but what she saw was as hot a sight as she would have asked.
So close to Mala's face that she could inhale its aphrodisiac sweetness, the little woman's thick-lipped cunt was wide open, even to the top, now the bottom because of the housekeeper's reversed position, so that the fiercely straining clitoris, a very large one, was in plain sight, and Mala's gaze was fixed on it.
And also on Jerry's cock, looking enormous because she saw all of it far past his big young balls, seeming to extend clear back to his unhaired anus. She could, she believed, get all the sweetness of both her friends if she could only reach a bit higher.
In perfect condition, able almost to lick her own pussy if she had tried very hard, Mala easily go up to where she could take young Jerry's balls in her mouth.
They were rank and beautifully gamey from his day of exertion in the powerful September heat, and they were held tightly against his stiff cock by excitement, but she gargled first one and then the other, and was rewarded by his sudden lurch as he slammed even deeper into the flowing depths of the housekeeper's cunt.
A softly spreading quake of cum-heat was gushing through every nerve in Mala's eager body, and she raised it to fever pitch by moving her face, just able to get to the cum-drenched cunt of the little brownette. There had been a gathering flow of pussy-juice in it since Mae had first rushed in, and it had been growing as she nursed so hotly on Mala's sweetly throbbing pussy.
Now, a big mouthful had grown in the folds of flesh which protected the big clitoris, and this reward of taste and slickness and love-promise hired the powerful sucking tongue of the girl on the bottom. She took in haired flesh, jumping clit, soft lining and all, swallowing the rich cunt flow gratefully, sucking hard on the bursting little sex bud, and all hell broke loose.
As a tidal wave of orgasm, breaking inside her cunt like a time bomb whose hour has come, shook the little housekeeper, she closed her arms, grip on Mala's thighs, thrust her tongue deeper into the blonde girl's clasping hole, and pushed her ass high into the air, feeling heat rush out of her like a storm of cumming, and then, feeling that hard thing, whatever it was, slam into he again, she knew it for what it was.
A cock! A strange, lovely, pulsing cock!
And with that knowledge, in her gratitude toward her young friend, she sank down, let the cock penetrate her to her very limits, sucking harder on Mala, mashing her big, tender tits into the girl's belly and pelvic cradle.
She felt her cunt throbbing, trying to suck up and grasp its way around the cock and still include the marvelously strong lips which were nibbling at her clitoris, and just then, like a healing magic, she felt the powerful, hot flow of male semen pour around her vagina, over the mouth of her womb, and felt it ease its trickly-hot way down between the lips of her cunt, now so sensitive that the least touch increased the orgasmic beauty that was racking her belly.
Since her final, half-fainting instinct was to save her lovely woman friend from being crushed Mae did not fall forward, but to one side, and Jerry, honestly feeling somewhat alarmed at his temerity in spite of Mala's assurances, in spite of the hot scene he had witnessed, fell with her, holding on to her flanks, keeping his cock wedged inside her, and she could have blessed him for it.
Mala, happy and perhaps the least affected of them all, in spite of her long, slow-drooling orgasm, lay face up, a satisfied smile on her flushed face.
Then, since the other two seemed locked and glued together with love, and there was a flood of Jerry's milky white sperm on the inside of Mae's thighs, Mala made a half roll, lifted the little woman's leg, and eased her face into where she could lap up the rich, slick seed. Mae began to laugh. "You said you'd give me something nice, Mala, and you certainly did! Jerry, my darling boy, I've been like a mother to you, but I never felt really motherly." She turned and pulled herself off his cock with an involuntary groan of loss, and kissed him, holding his face away from hers to look at him at close range. "Unless I'm a very incestuous mother, and that's not impossible!"
The big boy grinned in an abashed way and muttered: "Mala said you'd go for it, but I didn't believe her. Hey!" as Mae took his cock into her mouth, "Mala! Is this all right, too!"
Mala laughed delightedly and Mae, unwilling to remove the warm mouthful of boyish peter from her lips, rolled her eyes.
The two women wrestled the boy all over the bed, tickling him, alternating kisses on his cock and balls, leaping and screaming with laughter as he, in turn, grabbed at a tit, or goosed his dripping fingers into a gooshy cunt. He had gotten back some of his aplomb, and he kissed Mae gently and sweetly and told her: 'I've always wanted to get it into you, and it was Mala who gave me the guts!"
"But you were the one who had the hard-on, don't forget that," laughed Mala. "Without the hard-on, there wouldn't have been anything much!"
"Ho, ho, ho!" Mae said with a leer of exaggerated lechery. "Speak for yourself, baby! And be careful what you say. I had you shooting your lovely wad before this hunk of boy ever got that enormous thing into me. Let me see it again, Jerry," she demanded, pulling at his softening cock, pushing the foreskin back, kissing the head She turned again to Mala, but winked at Jerry to include him. "And it wasn't only this prick I fell in me and on me," she said. "No fuck from behind no matter how sweet, ever made me cum like that! I felt you, baby!"
She let go of Jerry to hang on to Mala, kissing her over and over, happy tears running down her cheeks. "This is the sweetest thing that ever happened to me. But one boy, no matter how strong he is, can't take care of two women. And Mala saw you first!" She smiled tremulously.
"Suppose I told you that this young turk has eyes for still another girl?" Mala asked with a wicked laugh. "What then, Mae? What would y say?"
"That he's too damned ambitious," Mae laughed, but her face was concerned. "Jerry, you can't do it," she warned. "It's more than any man could do!"
"Pooh!" Mala answered promptly, cradling Jerry's hand in her lap, letting his knuckles rub into the fat softness of her mound, with its curly blonde hair. "Men can fuck more than they think they can. And Mae, I expect you've been brainwashed with the same negative thinking. What's the old saying? Put a bean in a jar every time you screw during the first year of a marriage, and take one out for every time you fuck after that, and it'll take you five years to empty the jar?" Her laugh rang out, happy, scornful, inspiring. "That's bullshit, Mae! Bullshit, Jerry! Don't you believe it!"
She pulled Jerry's head to her breasts, pushing a big, hard nipple into his mouth. "Suck me, baby!" she commanded, and loved the smile on his boyish face as he complied. "You've got his cock, Mae. He only emptied his balls ten minutes ago. What does his cock tell you?"
"My God," the little woman said. "It's, uh, waking up!"
Mala pushed the six-foot baby away from her breast, laughing at his protests. "Suck Mae," she ordered. "Go ahead, you suck one of those beautiful things and I'll suck the other!"
She glanced up lovingly at the flushed, pretty face of the housekeeper. You don't look middle-aged, baby, Mala thought. You look about twenty. And this is good light She took one of Jerry's hands and put one of his fingers to her twat, moving involuntarily as his finger automatically inserted itself into her seething cunt lips. She put two of her own fingers down to Mae's dripping sluice, and got a surprise.
It was not easy to get two of her fingers into that well lubricated hole; she had to push. "Hey," she said, "a good fuck tightens you up, doll! That's fantastic!"
She thought again of how young the housekeeper looked in the midst of heat, and of how amazingly her cunt closed its lips and muscles. A bold idea began to form in her mind, and she gave Mae a quick, probing kiss. "We're all set for a long time," she announced. "Listen to me!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mae wanted to get dressed, but young Jerry grabbed at her as she tried to get off the bed and got his hand between her fat thighs, high up to her crotch, picking up a smear of slick goo that was running out of her pussy. "You wait here, just like you are," he said. "Hear what Mala's idea is. Dinner can wait!"
The woman giggled like a schoolgirl. "Dinner's all set right now," she said. "All I have to do is be there when the oven turns off. An hour from now. And Charles is over in Rancho Rico, waiting for a truck load of new seedlings and a ton of chicken manure."
The giggle only added to Mala's belief in the power of her idea. "Jerry," she demanded, "what's the name of that farm where the kids all go to make it? Garth's? Okay. Suppose you call that little Carter chick and ask her to go to Garth's with you tonight!"
The boy gulped. "Hey, that's pretty heavy," he said. "If a girl goes to Garth's with a guy, it's like saying she's ready to fuck him."
"Maybe it's just like saying she's ready to fuck," Mala replied mildly. "Remember what you told me about Timmy Schultz? How's he's got eyes for the Carter kid?"
Jerry's voice was thick. "Yeah, that's right. And I said he was one of the guys who seemed to know when a girl was ready! You mean that if she's ready, she could be ready for me just as easy as she could be ready for Tim?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Mala replied. "I can't guarantee it, of course, not with any particular girl or particular guy. For all I know, the Carter chick may not like you, and she may be pissing in her pants for young Schultz. What do you think?"
The boy got up off the bed purposefully. "I think she likes me pretty good," he said stoutly. 'That doesn't mean she doesn't like Timmy. But I can try."
He didn't waste time looking up a number, just dialed four-one-one and asked for the Carter phone number. When he had dialed it, he waited, the perfect picture of confidence, until someone answered.
"Hi, Susie," he said, "it's me, Jerry Jonas."
The two women, leaning close to the phone, heard the girl squeal with pleasure.
"Jerry! "Wonderful! A surprise! What's up? Something big, I hope!" They could hear her giggle.
"Well, I'm not going to say how big it is, Susie, but it's up, and it's up for you!" He rolled his eyes at Mala and Mae, and Mala knew he could never have been so cool, so with it, if not for them as audience.
"Hey," they heard the girl's voice. "I didn't mean it like that!" But then, apparently in spite of herself, she let out a smothered laugh. "What's happened to you, all at once?"
As a look of sweetness and docility crossed the boy's face, Mae shook her finger under his nose and he looked at her and at Mala, who doubled a fist and aimed it in an imitation of a killer punch. "Go after her," she mouthed, and Jerry nodded.
"What do you mean, all of a sudden?" he asked with great good humor. "I've been getting around. I just all of a sudden noticed how great you looked today. You've, uh, changed."
The giggle was very happy. "Yeah," the girlish voice came over loud and clear. "I've changed, all right. Right out of every blouse and sweater and dress I own. Glad you noticed."
"How could I help it," the boy asked earnestly. "You're like a grown-up woman." He laughed easily. "Hey, there ought to be a thing on at Garth's tonight. First Friday of the school year. How about going with me?"
They heard the sharp hiss of an indrawn breath. "Golly, Jerry, I don't know. Garth's, hey? I guess so; the moon's almost full. When it's really full, most girls are, uh, ineligible." She laughed nervously. "You know what I mean, don't you?"
"Think I'm a baby?" Jerry asked. "Of course I do! But it doesn't make my girl ineligible - there's more than one way to skin a cat." He smiled as Mala patted him on the back. "A pussy, I mean," he added.
There was a long silence from the girl, then she laughed. "You really are into it, aren't you, Jerry? Well, okay, you can take me. Timmy Schultz told me at school a while ago that he was going to call me. But he hasn't, not yet. And anyhow, Jerry, you know something? I, well, maybe I'm stupid to say this. But if it's to Garth's, I'd rather go with you!"
He had a hard-on when he hung up, his eyes looking far ahead, and Mae had tears in her eyes.
"Mala," she whispered, "you're the most beautiful, unselfish person I've ever known. To give this boy up, this great piece of meat!" And she stroked the boy's hard peter up and down, her throat clogging with desire.
"Cut it out," Mala said, tickling her under on of her gorgeously full, unbelievably firm titties "You and I are going along-not with Jerry baby here, but cruising on our own. I have an idea there are always a few stags hanging around. Am I right, Jerry?"
He looked at her blankly, and she repeated her question.
"Oh, sure, Mala," he smiled. "Sure! Sometimes they're, well, sort of toughs from over in Sonar Beach. But they act all right, because there's just too many guys there with chicks. I've heard that the guys with dates don't let anybody butt in unless he wants to swap. Ohhhhh!" he pranced up and down, holding his head. "I'm going to fuck Sue Carter!"
"Okay," Male said crisply. "Don't forget who set it up for you, and built you up to have the guts and the sense! And don't forget that Sue may be shopping around for more than one prick, too!" If she's anything like I was at her age, she said to herself, laughing inwardly.
Jerry put his arm around her, his face entreating. "Oh, Jesus, Mala, don't go that way on me!" he begged. "I'm just excited at the whole idea! Not just putting my cock into that little chickie. But being one of the real guys. But without you, none of it would happen. And if you say so, I won't go!"
Mala struck herself over the heart with her closed fist, thumb first. "God forgive me!" she cried. "I'm acting like a fucking wife! Listen, baby, you're as free as a bird. I mean it! Now come on, let's sort of play around and take it easy, hear?
Mae, you and I won't be left out -you just wait and see!"
It was the longest three hours that any of them had ever passed. Dinner seemed as if it would never end. Mister Charles said yes, sure, he'd love to see a movie if Mae would go, and Mae could have screamed, but Mala smiled and said: "I asked Mae to go with me to show me some shop in Santa Vaca; I'm a night bird, and we may be up late."
Mister Charles laughed indulgently. "My little doll doesn't get out with the girls very often," he said. "Go, and bless you!" .
Jerry left first, in his old Cadillac. "It's like bedroom in back," he joked. 'That's what dad said when he gave it to me. Better than a sports car for what a boy needs a car for, that's what dad said Mom jumped him, but he just looked at her and smiled, and she shut up. She blushed, too."
They stayed a block behind him when he went to pick up the charming little tenth-grader with the grown-up breasts. In the light from her home, they could see that she wore a loose, simple dress.
"They tell me that everybody wears something easy to get into. For a guy to get into," Jerry quipped. "A girl with panties on, hell, the other girls hold her down and take 'em off her. So you know what I'm wearing?" he asked. "Pajama bottoms. No zipper, so it can all hang out."
They were in Mae's car, a comfortable family sedan, but each had a sleeping bag.
"If a girl's not getting enough action," Jerry advised them, "she just walks down the line of cars with a sleeping bag or a blanket. Down at the end is where they have the group stuff. Everybody fucks everybody, I hear. Or else!"
"Or else what?" both the women wanted to know, their eyes warm with anticipation, and Jerry answered: "Same as with the panties. The girls hold them down while any boy with a hard-on fucks 'em! Seems wild, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Mala answered, her tongue thick with the ideas her mind fed down to her warming pussy. "Yeah. What do you think, Mae?"
The little woman hung onto Mala, laughing. "Makes me want to turn somebody down," she twittered. "Hot damn, Mala! Let's go!" And they went, trailing Jerry and little Sue Carter, Mae in the top from Mala's winter pajamas, Mala in a tunic originally cut to wear with pants, and each of them sitting with their warm and naked bottoms on folded sleeping bags.
They dimmed their lights just before they turned into the lane leading south from Rancho Rico Road, a mile in from the coast. There were a dozen cars already in place, and there was a good deal of young laughter floating in the fragrant dark, heavy with the scent of night blooming flowers, citrus blossoms, turned earth, and rankly growing grasses.
"I think I smell something else," Mae whispered, leaning against the softness of Mala's breasts. "Some football jock must have skinned his prick. Wow!" aping the favorite juvenile ejaculation. "It smells marvelous!"
Mala reached behind her in the car and brought out a wig, fashioned of long, straight hair. "I'm a teacher," she explained to Mae. "I've got to live with these horny kids five days a week. Jerry, well, Jerry's different." The older woman had squeezed her arm.
"I hope this works for both of us," she said excitedly. "I did what you said, see? My hair in a pony tail with a red ribbon, same as Sue! But who could mistake me for a fourteen-year-old? Oh. baby! I hope it works!"
They stopped for just a second by Jerry's shining old car as they walked along, and Mala hissed: "Hi, Jer!"
He had to raise up from the seat in the back to say "Hi!" in a puzzled voice, and they heard a girl too: "What the hell? Who is that?" and Mala laughed softly, her arm around Mae, feeling on of her superbly youthful breasts.
"Sue Carter," she murmured to her companion "Thought she was looking in a mirror! Walk looser, take longer steps!"
They were coming closer to the end of the car, hearing talk and laughter, when a tall boy in nothing but a pair of white bib overalls, "farmer" overalls, came out of the gloom and said: "God damn it, Sue, how come you turned me down and showed up here, stag?"
He grabbed Mae by the arm and held her while she struggled, opening the PJ top with his other hand, freeing the big tits. "Wow!" he breathed. "Just like I thought they'd be!" He pulled her back of a car, and Mae was laughing quietly. She was still laughing when he tried to suck one of those super tits down her throat, but it soared to a wail of pure joy as they rolled on the ground, and Mala, her eyes now used to the dark, saw the big boy sinking his cock right into the darker wedge where Mae's body was joined to her strong, lovely thighs.
She watched for a moment in spite of the heat that was crowding in her, in spite of her hungry cunt, watching the hard expertise with which Timmy Schultz was plumbing Mae's pussy. In the dark, Mala heard him say: "Jesus, kid, you're tight! But not cherry! Good! I hate all that damned blood!" And with a triumphant feeling of having solved a problem, Mala went on down the line, listening to whistles and invitations.
Her tunic was sleeveless, so, when a strong hand grasped her arm high up, it slid right into the warm, lightly sweated armpit which Jerry had said was "like a little cunt." She turned and smiled into a dark, intense face, and realized that this was no high school boy.
Without fear, she turned to raise her face, and the scowling young man drew her to him with a quick, hard movement, running his left hand between her thighs, plunging as many fingers as he could into her suddenly shocked cunt.
His mouth was plastered on hers, his tongue, long and broad, was searching her mouth, and his big right hand was deep in the cleft of her ass, the fingers prodding at her asshole. It was hot, hot, and Mala, feeling able to handle herself in any situation, felt no fear whatever, rather a sort of expectancy. - Her sleeping bag fell from her arm as she, with her natural urge to enjoy, cupped the stranger's big balls in one hand while she hugged him hard with the other, and they went to the ground in a tangled heap, both laughing. But there was an oddity about this encounter-the dark man had no hard-on.
Big his cock certainly was, swollen enough to promise something marvelous when he did get it up. But it wasn't up. Not yet.
She was leaning down to find it with her warn lips, having disengaged her mouth from the long kiss, when she felt a stunning blow on the side of her face, saw a blaze of light from the blow, and was twisted over by a hard hand while cruel fingers twisted in her twat, so painful that she felt something inside her might be torn.
She was down for only a moment, hearing the snarling guy rapping out: "What's with you baby? Don't you dig the pain bit?" But eighteen years of gymnastics, heavy workouts every day, all planned for agility and balance as well as speed, plus, of course, a good looking girl's expectable experience in sexual wrestling matches made Mala a contact bomb in this sort of action.
The man screamed as she struck him under the nose with the flat of her hand, one bent finger tearing at the cartilage of his nose, and she was up in a short fraction of a second.
"You God damned slut!" the dark man shouted, leaping up to grab at her, reaching for the right wrist which she seemed awkwardly unable to keep from him.
She let him grab at it, locked his arm with both hands and jerked it down and up his back, so that he was forced to bend at the waist or have his shoulder dislocated. She held him in this position for perhaps two seconds and then, seeing that his big balls hung conveniently down between his legs, she took them in one hand and gave them one sharp, hard twist. Not enough to injure him permanently, but plenty to cause him the most exquisite pain now, and to leave him with a reminding pain for a week.
It had been a silent struggle, except for his first shriek and his shouted curse, but now he emitted a blood-curdling yell of masculine agony, all the more intense because Mala's grip on his twisted arm held him static.
She looked around at the suddenly stilled action around her, the open mouths, some still wet from eager pussies, or dripping semen from a boyish ejaculation of sperm unswallowed.
There was a clear path back to the dirt road, and on it there was a shiny, late model Chewy, broadside on.
Exerting a little pressure, Mala got the bent-over man started toward it, hurried him with a harder twist, running beside him, aiming his head at the side of the car. They were going at a sharp trot when they reached it, and she banged his head into the car's side with a sound like striking a big gong.
There were two sounds immediately after, a harsh gush of breath from the unconscious man's mouth, and the muffled thud of his big body falling into the dust.
So that he would not strangle, Mala carefully arranged his head so that his cheek was lying on his forearm, and turned back, watching to see the crowd reaction.
She remembered what Jerry had heard - that a girl refusing to fuck was usually held down by other girls as an open prize for any boy with a hard-on, and was ready for it. But the only girl who approached her was a tall, slim brunette naked save for a very short wraparound skirt who held out a hand in welcome.
"That was wonderful," the young girl said earnestly. "He's a bad one, always jumping new girls We'd all have helped you, but I guess we were all well," and she laughed nervously, "busy with our boys!" Her small, pointed tits quivered in the moonlight, and she kicked daintily at the unconscious victim's naked ass.
"What made him scream like that?" she asked, looking at Mala with admiration. "Did you grab him by the balls? It was all over so quick! God damn!" she cried to all who lay or sat on the blankets, their fucking and sucking suspended for now, "This sister just knocked the shit out of George Leyes!"
She hugged a surprised and grateful Mala to her and whispered: "I hope you get a nice boy!" and then turned and lay beside a powerful looking young kid.
Mala, her heart pounding, adrenalin flowing through her tensed body, felt a pang of anger and sadness that this happy adventure had turned sour. Something about the night itself, perhaps the role she was playing, possibly the sharp ache in the tenderness of her bruised cunt, brought stinging tears to her eyes.
She had picked up her sleeping bag and was leaving, head down, amidst a soft chorus of goodbyes, when she almost stumbled over a person seated in the darker shadows of an old car, on a small blanket, dejection showing in every line of his small body.
There was something about finding someone in as bad a position as herself that lifted Mala out of herself, left her with an urge to laugh at her minor woes, and she sat down immediately, lowering herself to her knees, and putting one arm over the thin, naked shoulders. It was a boy, she had no trouble deducing that, for he had a hard-on, coming up in the dark between his thighs.
"What's the matter?" Mala whispered, putting her soft lips against his strong young neck.
The kid stirred, and Mala realized that, for all his small size, his upper arms and shoulders showed an unusual musculature, the long, corded muscles moving under his smooth skin like powerful cables. She put a hand under his chin, forcing his face up, a face streaked with shameful tears. So she kissed him, feeling unable not to do so, something telling her that perhaps her evening wasn't lost, after all.
There was his hard-on, plain to see in spite of the shadow, and she put a soft, warm, knowing hand down to it, rolling the skin gently up over the head, then back, assessing its size and hardness, all the while maintaining her kiss.
He was small, but she doubted that he was as young as he seemed, since he had quite a growth of hair on his belly, much more, for example, than fifteen-year-old Jerry. But something had interfered with his sexual development, or social experience, for he was only now letting her tongue into his young mouth, sucking back at it, sticking his own tongue into the dark, wet recesses of her kindly mouth.
Suddenly, without warning, he put both arms up to Mala, like a little child, and she let go his cock to hold him against her breasts, falling gently on her side, losing his tongue because he was smaller that she, and his mouth went to one of her aching tits.
"What's the matter, baby?" she whispered, petting him, again noting those amazing muscles, holding him close so that his rigid cock was pressed into her belly. The tunic had slid up as she had sat down, and something, perhaps her hands, perhaps his, had bunched it up above her breasts, and she impatiently eased it off over her head, leaving her naked.
The entire aspect of the evening had changed for Mala. She was no longer tense, no longer angry. A prick, stiff with need, was against her naked flesh, her cunt, aching from brutality a moment before, now ached with instant lust. Best of all, from her standpoint, here was a new friend, a youngster obviously hungering for pussy, obviously left behind by the pack as they all reached out toward life and sex.
"You sweet doll," she crooned, raising her leg to lay it across him, opening her twat in the process. "Give me your cock. Ah, ah, it's so sweet! Yes, baby! Let mama put it in for you!"
She could feel the chill of cunt juice running out of her and onto her thigh, and she let go of his tool just long enough to pick some of this up and rub it slickly onto the head, under the foreskin, along the column. "What a lot of goo!" she whispered to him. "Do you like cunt squeezings? Do you like that sweet stuff that mama's dripping out of her pussy?"
Against her breast she saw him nod eagerly, and she said in a soft voice: "Put your hand between my legs and pick some up. Oh, yes, honey, that's the way! Ooohh! That felt so nice! Oh! Easy, baby!" She held him close as he passed his wet hand up to his lips, and he sucked even harder at her breast, mumbling something.
She leaned down; he was whispering: "My first time! I don't know - " and then his sucking mouth was nuzzling at her sensitive nipple again, was pulling it into his mouth with a painfully marvelous suction, and she realized she was jerking his cock so hard that his loins were plunging at her as if he were ready to shoot his youthful load onto the sweating, smooth roundness of her belly, into the crisp bush of her cunt hair.
"Unh-unh!" she said into his dusty smelling hair. "No way! Push a little, sweetie! Oooohh! That's the place! Yeah, yeah! Push a little harder!"
The head of it was in her cunt. She had time to think, I don't even know if he's bigger than Jerry, and I don't care! And she had pushed, also, pushed her sweetly craving cunt onto it and down and around so that her wet, hairy mound was now against his, and he was deep in, up her cunt as far as he could go, moving something very tender and good-feeling inside her vagina, and she felt the fuck-muscles begin their slip and slide, grab and kiss, relax and clamp back again, on this wonderful, hot, rigid bar of young meat.
i wish you weren't so short, baby, she said in her mind. I wish I had your tongue to suck on while you're fucking me!
Somehow, the thought gave her eyes to see with, to see up inside in the complete dark of her flowing pussy, seeing the pink lining as it would look under a light, seeing the surface veins swollen and dark red, like the veins in her inner labia whan she was hot enough to cum. I love this sideways fucking, she thought, giving her partner a powerful bump of her lower body, feeling the strong muscles of her buttocks contract over her anus, feeling a sweet, wild sharpness in her rectum as she clenched her ass to make her vaginal muscles cling tighter.
The desire to be fucked in the ass swept over her like a hot wind off the desert, and she was conscious of all of her cuntal area, the hairy mound, the thick outer lips carrying the hair down into the cleft of her ass, scattering them out down her thighs, the bruised and happy labia, the softly muscled hole closed around the glistening stem of this boy's cock, the dark valley below her pussy, now filled with her cunt's goo as it pumped out under the hard drive of this youngster. There was her puckered asshole, wildly aroused. Had that dark man, in his quick attack, gotten a finger into her back there?
The wave of cum-fire shook her entire body, but she held on to her cool, wanting to feel this strange kid shoot his load of living seed into her, wanting to feel the wet heat blast through her, to sense the hot spilling of his jism on her womb.
To take her mind off her approaching orgasm she nuzzled at his head, and he blindly turned his face up, only his mouth open, and she fed him her tongue, rejoicing that he had so mutely begged for it. One of his hands went around her, his arm was powerful, fantastically strong, and his hand went straight into that slippery cleft between her ass cheeks.
She almost stopped the movement of her body almost let the gentle clench and release of cunt muscle stop as she felt his cock swell and then shoot, swell and then shoot, each time giving her inner cunt walls a red hot wash of sperm. He seemed to cum and cum, long throbs and powerful gushes of semen, and her neck ached, her jaws were tired with the effort it cost to hold off her own blast of cum-fury. Until at last she could wait no longer, and the orgasm began far up inside her, pinching her vagina sharply and painfully, swelling up from her clitoris, which felt as if it would surely burst, and each throb of cumming seemed to swell in her belly, a hot need so great that her other parts, her clit, her cunt, simply carried out their function of easing the fuck-power out of her before she exploded.
For that sliver of enchanted time on the crisp grass and the softly turned earth, she had winged away from the world, gone briefly into that heaven of sensuality which does not come often, and she realized that this had truly been a magic joining of male and female, herself a gourmet of cunt rapture, and an undersized unknown boy, fucking in a desperate desire to give and to receive.
She cuddled him to her body, wanting all of his freshness and smoothness pressed into her, trying to hold his cock inside her slack and slippery pussy. His face was still turned up, his eyes still closed, and she had her left hand behind his head, cradling him like the baby she had never had and always wanted. His hand, which had pressed so marvelously against her sensitized asshole, lay soft and warm on her hip now.
With a deep sense of loss, she felt the itching slip as her tightness expelled his limp prick, and she moved so that the small, sticky morsel of meat would be against her warm belly. She could not remember a time in her life when she had been any more grateful for being a woman, for having a cunt, for owning the gift of peace and manhood for the males who needed it.
She was content.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The years of being taught as well as the years of teaching had made Mala empathetic to younger people of both sexes; possibly it had strengthened her yearning to help anyone, regardless of age or sex. It was not in her to bestow a sex experience on someone like this young male and then get up and walk away; the giving experience and the leaching experience demanded more than that from her.
She had put the short tunic on again and was on her naked ass, letting the jism and her cunt-juice ooze out on the boy's blanket, holding gently onto his shrunken prick, inclined to be amused at her interest in it while it was in this state.
She felt that he was awake, and she whispered: "My name's -uh -Molly. That's short for Margaret. What's your name?"
He moved his face against her bare thigh, and she felt him kissing her skin. "Roy," he said. "Roy Flack. I'm new here."
With a start, she remembered him; the name was unusual; he had registered only today Thank God for the wig, she thought. She remembered that he had been timid and shy, but had certainly looked thoroughly at her tits. She was also glad that she had called herself Molly rather than Mala; that would have, indeed, been a slip of Olympic proportions. Her name, MALA PETERS, had been on a large recognition sign for all to see who registered and were assigned; the name Mala was uncommon, and, in spite of Lew Jonas's promises, she would not court disaster.
"I'm from down the coast, myself," she said. "This is my first time here. I guess it is for you too, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he said. "But we've got a place like it, up home. In Citrus City. I never had any luck up there, and if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have had any luck here, either."
There was a movement just above them and looked up. It was Jerry, with the bright-eyed little Sue Carter hanging on to his arm. They'll know he fucked her, the smart ones at school, thought proudly. And I did it for him "Hi," she said to them. "Sit down. I'm Molly, this is Roy. He's new here. And I live down the coast."
"Hey, something's familiar about you, I mean, like I maybe know you," Sue bubbled. She shook hands, and her soft little paw was sticky with Jerry's jism. He looked different, too, with some dark smears on his face, a few dark splatters on his shirt.
"Hey, I know!" the girl said. "You were with another girl. She looked like me!" The child burst out laughing. "I saw her a few minutes ago with a friend of mine."
"Guy named Timmy Schultz," Jerry said. "He like to shit when I walked past them with Sue, here. My name's Jerry," he said. "Forgot to introduce myself. Sorry. Anyhow, old Tim did a double take." He laughed reminiscently. "He wanted Sue tonight, but I got her! Didn't I, baby?"
The young girl, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, hugged Jerry's arm rapturously. "You got me, all right, baby! You really got me!" She moved nervously. "Hey, I'm leaking on somebody's blanket. I hope it's all right!" Jerry leaned close to Mala. "Sue was cherry," said. "I got it, can you believe? This is blood on my face. I sucked her out, after we fucked. I got her blood all over my shirt, ain't that something?" was almost bursting with pride. "What do you think of that?"
Roy, bless him, laughed. "It's wonderful," he said. "But I wouldn't trade if you threw in your car. This chick here, this Molly, she's wonderful!" He stopped quickly, and Mala realized that his voice had choked with emotion.
Jerry and Sue got up and walked away. "See you," they all chorused. And Mala kissed Roy.
"I meant to ask you awhile ago," she said, "where did you get those muscles?" She felt his upper arm; it was like a model in a book on anatomy, perfectly formed, perfectly balanced.
His smile was happy. "Workouts," he said. "I'm not big enough for football, but I'm crazy about gym. I wonder if they'd let me be on their team, here. It's supposed to be pretty good." He touched her shyly, running his hand down the upper slope of her breast. "I hope I was all right," he said. "Did I tell you? I never did this before. Not with a nice girl."
Mala kissed him, a long, sweetly tonguing kiss, and held on to his young cock, run out just a bit during the conversation with Jerry and Sue.
"But you've done it before?" she asked, smiling.
"Yeah," he said. "One of the guys up home brought a, uh, one of those ladies, well, you know." He was embarrassed.
"A whore," Mala said. "I think that's fine! Was she cute? Was she young? Did you like her?"
"Oh, sure, Molly! She got paid for it, but she was from up at Convoy State, you know, a student. She had to get money for college, she said. Boy, she was pretty wild!"
"What did she do?" Mala asked softly. "How many guys did she take on? I might want to try it, myself," she said, "in case my money doesn't hold out."
The kid grabbed her arm. "No!" he said. "Not you! She was okay, I guess, but she sucked me! Sucked my peter," he said.
Mala began to laugh. "Roll over on your back," she ordered. "Go on, I mean it!"
Slowly, softly, as soon as he was flat, she took his young cock into her mouth, gently cleansing it of congealing sperm, of her own leftovers, holding his balls in one hand as she squeezed the stem of it with the other, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes.
He had started up as she began, but now he lay quietly, and soon, as his cock hardened in her mouth, he laughed. "See," he whispered, "I'm a real jerk. I acted like it was terrible for a girl to suck. Just shows what a dummy I am." He put his hand on her head and pressed it down, since he was really hard by now and instinctively wanted that closure of her throat on his cockhead. They learn so fast, Mala thought wryly. Right out of mama's womb and into sex!
She sucked harder, moving her body so that her lovely ass, in all its divided lusciousness, was near his shoulder. She felt his hand slide between her thighs, in one of the sweetest gestures a woman can ever know, one she can never tire of, and she thought for a fleeting second about that young whore. What a bittersweet joy, to spend her passion on whatever man or boy had a hard-on and a few dollars, sometimes unable to know the glory of a cum because someone couldn't hold it; unwilling to waste the time to get the cock hard again and have a real orgasm, since another customer might be waiting.
She felt Roy's fingers probing into her, and moved her ass so that she would get the most feel out of it, so that his knuckles grazed her clit as she bobbed and weaved, sucking harder on his rigid, sweetly rank cock. Just about the same size as Jerry's, she said in her mind, and knew it didn't matter. Hard enough to get in, long enough to touch the tenderness just inside, thick enough to make a little friction. The thought made her cunt nip at Roy's fingers, and he bumped delightedly, striking deep into her throat. His other hand went up between them to milk her breasts, one after the other, and he suddenly withdrew his seeking hand and said: "Molly! Listen, Molly! Can I, you know, have you? I mean, can you get over my face, so I can suck you? That guy, Jerry, he said he sucked Sue. And I know guys do it! Please?"
Without taking his prick from her mouth, Mala moved, lifted a strong thigh, and settled her streaming twat over his mouth.
And, as he began to suck, he also began to cum. and as he began to cum, she felt it start in her bowels again, the gut ache of violence, the beauty of orgasm, the racking desire turning to wet fire in her body, the itch of lust rising in her.
It was as sweet as their first time, and little Roy, his young face in earnest appeal, begged her not to leave him. There were cars starting up and feeling their way out of the dark dirt lane and on to the curving highway that ran inland through Rancho Rico and El Portal and on to the desert.
"I promise you, I'll call you," she whispered, kissing him. "I loved your cock. I love the idea that you, well, aren't so experienced that you're tired of it."
"I love everything about you," he vowed. 'The way you talk! Wow! Cunt and cock and fuck! Do all girls talk that way?"
"After they know you," Mala said. "But you'd better know them before you start talking that way!" She laughed, highly pleased with herself and her life. "I promise, I'll see you soon. And listen, go get registered for that gym team! I'll bet you can still make it!"
She walked slowly down the scattered line of cars. Kids were still leaving, and she saw that Jerry had left. The soft night air felt good on her skin, on her bare thighs as they rubbed together, slick goo making them hiss as they met and rubbed and separated. The big boy she recognized as Timmy Schultz was leaning against Mae's car, looking down at her, and both of them were laughing. The boy looked up at her and stuck out his big paw.
"I'm Tim Schultz," he said. "M'friends call me Timmy! That's right, ain't it, angel?" He squeezed one of Mae's opulent breasts. "Baby!" he said, "You're the greatest!"
"I'm Margaret," Mala announced. "My pals call me Molly. Irish, you know." She was pleased by Mae's poker face. That woman knew how to meet any situation!
Timmy turned back to kiss the tiny woman, old enough to be his mother's older sister, and said: "I'm so damn lucky! I could've been out here with a dumb kid fourteen years old! Mary Frances, here," he said to Mala, "is ten times as good as some dumb high school chickie. Wow! I'm getting a hard-on again, just thinking about it! Look!"
He waved a big cock, of which he was obviously proud, at the two women, and Mae said: 'Timmy likes the idea of us college girls coming down here and mixing with the kids." She bent and kissed his cock, stood on tiptoe to kiss him, and tossed her sleeping bag into the car. "Come on, Molly,' she said, "I've got to get in before the house mother holds bed check!"
She hugged the big high school stud, her face against his chest. "I can't give you my phone number," she said. "I'd be in real trouble! But I promise you, solemnly promise you, I'll call you Baby, believe me," she said earnestly, "You car have me any time; just let me set the time and the place. I'd crawl over a hundred college boys to get to your cock!"
When they had finally broken away, their car among the last six or eight to leave, Mae leaned against Mala, who put her arm around the smaller woman. Her hand naturally fell on Mae's soft, heavy breast, and she fooled around with the open PJ top until she had her hand on the warm, smooth flesh, feeling the nipple harden between her fingers.
"Mala," the little woman said in a low, shaking voice, "You've taught me the meaning of love, the meaning of friendship."
"Mae," the younger woman laughed, comfortable in her life at this moment, "you're beautiful, you know that? And I love you too. It was a lovely evening, wasn't it?"
"Wow! As the kids say so properly, wow!" Mae replied. "It was like you said - or guessed. But even if Timmy hadn't been there, I know, now, that I would have gotten it, and plenty of it. Mala, this means a lot to me. Those kids! Tim really thought I was nineteen! You wouldn't believe how he fucked!"
She rubbed her beautiful little belly, laughing ruefully.
"I feel like I'm real loose up inside," she said. "Poor old Charles! Well, what right have I got to expect a man fifty years old to fuck every night? Anyhow," she giggled, "I doubt I could do it, either! But that Tim! Wow!"
They showered together in Mala's cottage, soaping each other, sticking a slick finger into a slicker twat, giggling with the joyously carefree thrill of feeling like schoolgirls.
"Which we were, tonight," Mae chortled. "All I want is for Charles to join a service club, a political committee, a church group and a bowling team." She goosed Mala, her small finger hitting almost directly into the blonde's asshole, setting up that sharp desire to be fucked in the rectum.
They heard a knocking at the door, and Mala, knowing it could be Mister Charles, went to the door, slipping the chain off as she saw the shining face of young Jerry.
He hugged Mala and pinched her breast, saying: "Did you ever see a young kid with tits like Sue? Hey, how's about getting into the shower with you two?"
He held a soapy Mae, his cock fat but now, alas incapable of another erection. His face was merry "Remember what I asked you a minute ago?' he said to Mala. "Did you ever see a young kid with tits like Sue's, you know? Here's one! Mary Frances Leopold, from some dumb junior college down the coast!" He kissed her. "Honest, Miss Charles, you're so wonderful!"
Mala patted his lean, strong butt. "Glad you had a good time," she said. "You got yourself maidenhead. How'd you get rid of the blood? It must have been exciting."
"God!" the kid swore. 'T thought I'd never get it into her. She kept pushing up and groaning and cussing, telling me I had no business being so God damned big! How about that! Until finally it broke. Hot damn, what a feeling! I must have cum a quart! You know something? I fucked her twice more!"
"Not counting going down on her." Mala observed dryly.
"Oh, that!" the boy said. "Yeah, I got so hot, seeing that blood, I just had to suck her off. Man, she's going to be a hot number! Says she wants to fuck every boy in school! And says she'll get me another girl as soon as we, well, get tired of each other." He grinned shyly. "She's a lovely person. Everybody's lovely! All of us!"
And he began to cry.
Mala gave him a drink, they calmed him down, and he and Mae went to the big house together, arm in arm. Mala, looking after them with a maternal smile, closed the door and went to the bed, turning out the last light, yearning for rest.
It had been a marvelous day.
CHAPTER NINE
On Monday morning, Jerry watched with interest and pride as Mala dressed for her first teaching day at Oakdale. They had decided that from now on, barring car trouble, they would go to school in their own cars. "Because, if you make the gym team, baby, and the judging is close, I don't want some sore loser saying we're too much together," Mala had said.
Seated on her bed, with his arms around her, his face on her warm, bare belly's smoothness, his chin tickled by her pubic hair, Jerry had laughed.
"As long as they don't try to regulate what we do in practice sessions, it's all right," he had said.
"Feel this fabric," Mala said on this lovely, bright Monday. "I had these leotards made in Germany; they're like skin. Isn't it crazy? I hate panty hose, I hate underwear, and yet I love the feel of my working clothes, these things, tights, whatever. A state of mind."
She sat on the bed and pulled the tights up to her thighs, stood up to complete the job, and Jerry lovingly put his hand on the soft lips of her pussy before she closed it off with the garment. "First time I've felt it when it was dry," he observed.
Mala smiled down at him. 'I've got a plug in it," she said. "It's either that or wear panties under the tights, and that's too much."
"They really are like skin," the boy judged. "I can see every teeny wrinkle in your nipples. And every hair on your cunt. When you bent over a minute ago, I could see your asshole, plain as day."
She put on a hip-length robe of raw silk, and the lightest of ballet slippers. "I keep the kimono in except when I'm demonstrating a turn," she said, "and when I'm in action, you don't notice the details." They both giggled at this.
It was fine at school. Two classes in the morning, one for eighth and ninth graders bussed over from Brandeis Junior High, and two after lunch, for older kids. Mala was strangely excited when Roy Flack appeared for the morning class for the tenth grade. She was busy with routine paperwork, checking each member of the class for their experience, and young Roy floored her with his list of accomplishments. High-low bars, parallel bars, the horse, tumbling. He also listed the rings, which meant, of course, the he did handstands.
He was the only one of the boys who was fitted with "pro" type tights, and she watched him as he did a few slow walkovers, fascinated with his skill and style.
"You must come out for our gym team," she told him at the end of the period. "You're new here, and so am I; wouldn't it be nice if the two of us helped bring a championship to Oakdale in our first year?"
He had ducked his head and blushed, but when she saw him in the cafeteria, in street clothes, he came over to thank her.
"I'll sure work my tail off for you -oh, pardon me, Miss Peters! I mean I'll work real hard. I just hope I'm good enough for the team." And he blushed again when she said to him in a low voice: "You're good enough, baby! Don't ever worry about that!"
He looked at her curiously. "You sure are like someone I know," he said. "But I can't remember who. Or where."
He walked away frowning, and Mala chuckled inwardly. Sooner or later, he'd know who and where, if only because she couldn't keep her hands off him for long. It had ben plain that he had not worn a jockstrap; his manly young cock and balls had been displayed in touching candor when he had done the walkovers and split handstands. She could talk to him about that; show his the reason for protecting his lovely young jewels.
In the first of the afternoon classes, Jerry was registered and Mala, checking him in, joked with him in a quiet voice as she perfunctorily noted his various specialties, which she already knew. "You've left off some of your indoor gymnastics," she quipped as he handed her his card, and flashed her right breast at him, since no one else could see.
"They don't grade for that," he laughed. "Anyhow, I'm a freshman in that line. Timmy Schultz is in your next class; maybe you could get him to show his credentials."
Two days went by, and a third; Thursday passed, and Friday brought the first mass tryout for team breakdowns. Little Sue Carter, delightful in pink tights and surprisingly graceful in free exercises, dropped panting on a mat by Mala as the new coach watched each youngster go through basic exercises.
"Did you ever know anyone from up at Citrus Jaycee?" the big-titted child asked Mala during a break. "A friend of mine-you know him, he's in your late class, Tim Schultz. He met this college chick, and he's sure flipped for her. Name's Mary Frances Something, and he can't find her."
Mala considered, turning her right hand up, then back.
"I never taught there," she stalled. "My teams have met them in dual meets. All I would get is last names, anyhow. Is this chick a gymnast?"
The little girl giggled, her face scarlet. 'To hear Timmy tell it, she is," and hugged herself as she laughed at her own joke.
Mala grinned. 'That kind of a gymnast, hey?" she said. "I've heard that Timmy would know." And then, looking straight at the flushed, beautiful young face: "When did you meet her? And where? And why are you so interested?"
It was very tough, in a way, challenging a girl so young, but Mala was interested in building a bridge of confidence to as many of these kids as she could. So I can really help them, she thought. The sweet things think they're so wise, when they're really so vulnerable Sue looked confused. Then she touched Mala's hand. "You're some kind of a mind reader. You know there's something, uh, sort of offbeat in what I said, don't you?" She looked at Mala very seriously. "It gets kind of mixed for a girl sometimes, doesn't it?" she asked, and Mala said abruptly: "If it weren't for all these people around, my dear, I'd kiss you!"
She felt herself more affected by this exchange than the young chick; she knew pain from a sudden stoppage of breath, and her cunt, decently closed by her second tampon of the day, to guard against wetting her crotch with her generous distilling of vaginal juices, throbbed without reason. Without any reason except the sudden vision of that appealing, touchingly young cunt in pink tights, its perfume coming up to her, and Mala, desperately fighting her desire for something much more "offbeat" than Sue could have imagined, was reminded of the duality of her sexual experience.
It must have showed in her face, too, because the fresh-faced youngster, struggling to understand, leaned hard against her coach and teacher, her big soft breasts pressing on Mala's arm, and burrowed into the warm resilience of the older woman's breasts.
Somehow, Mala got through the day, her entire sexual apparatus in a chaotic storm of fuck-hunger, cock-need, cunt-interest, until she was grateful when the final class was over and she could flee to her neat, comfortable sanctuary on the Jonas estate.
And she had a simply marvelous surprise.
Little Roy Flack, his thin and earnest young face looking dubious, was sitting on her front stoop, looking more than a little sweated, but smiling hopefully.
"You said if you had time, you'd give me a little personal instruction, Miss Peters," he said shyly. "So I jogged over here. I knew where you lived," he added unnecessarily.
She was so pleased, so happy with it all, that she had to watch herself to keep from babbling like a schoolgirl.
"We'll certainly do that, Roy," she assured him. 'There's something I wanted to tell you, anyhow, and now's my chance."
Once inside, she latched the door and checked both other entrances, and faced the shy boy, her face glowing. "Gee, Roy, this is great!" she said. "I look to you to be a real leader in our gym group. I think you've got what it takes. You seem older than the other kids. By the way, how old are you?"
He gulped. "I'm sixteen," he said. "Nearly seventeen. I'd look older if I was bigger, I expect."
She put her hand on his shoulder. "Forget about that!" she ordered. "You're big enough. And old enough, too!" She thought of last Friday night, with this young kid's cock in her, giving her such pleasure, leaving her content. Something more than simple sex; a communion of- what? Spirit? Mind?
"I'm not trying to test you," she said to him, "but I've got an idea I want to advance to you. You tell me what you think of it, right? Okay!" She drew a deep breath, then went on.
"In five or six, maybe more big high schools up where I've been working, they're knocking down all barriers between the sexes. You know what I mean? Boys competing with girls, girls going out for boys' teams, track, tennis, volleyball, gym. Have you heard of that?"
"Sure, Miss Peters. I heard that Mister Jonas is all for it here in the Santa Vaquita area. At Oakdale, especially."
"Yes. That's great! You know what the first step is, don't you, Roy? The real first step? It's -mingling. Traveling together, showering together, everything honest-to-God co-ed."
He grinned weakly, then squared his shoulders, looked at her breasts, so plain to see, now that she had shucked out of the silk robe, and his smile really turned her on.
"Wow!" he ejaculated. 'That ought to get every guy in school out for gym!" He flushed. "Excuse me," he apologized. "That's a dumb thing to say!"
She put her arm around him and hugged him close. "No such thing! It's true. But we can't publicize it. Can't even mention it for the time being. Have every old hen in the Santa Vaquita down on us like gangbusters. But you and I are going to do a little pioneering. Right now!"
He looked at her unbelievingly. "You don't mean that you, that I. .. ?" and he stopped, his face turning scarlet but alive with a deep interest.
"I sure as hell do," Mala assured him. "You and I, that exactly what I mean. If we can do it, shower together, without either of us being confused, or fussed, or silly, we'll know it can be done by everyone. That'd be a big day for Oakdale, wouldn't it?"
She turned her back to him. 'There's a zipper at my collar," she said. "Pull it down for me, will you? And then start getting undressed. Let's get it on, Flack!"
She turned around to him, reaching up to her shoulders to peel the long sleeves down and off, and of course her fantastic breasts popped into view, jiggling with the mild activity, and she kept her face in a merry grin, although she was sober enough inside, watching for the slender boy's reactions.
He stared at her unbelievingly for only a second, then, with a gusting laugh, he got out of his slacks and pulled his knit shirt over his head. "You said neither of us was to get silly. Miss Peters," he said, his voice croaking slightly, "but you're going to have to help me! I don't know for sure what you mean. And I've got, well, this sort of problem."
He began to tug at the waistband of his shorts, and Mala, knowing exactly what the problem was, helped him. Sure enough, there it was, the beginnings of a big hard-on.
"I couldn't help it," the boy whispered. "I hope it doesn't ruin things."
"Not at all," Mala said in a crisp voice. "Have to expect it. Girls don't get, uh, erections, but you can bet, they feel plenty of interest. First few times, anyway. Don't worry about me, Roy; I've been through this before!"
She led him into the gorgeous shower, turned the main mixing faucet to medium, and began turning on various nozzles, top row, middle row, bottom row. "Come on in," she said. "Get close to me. Come on, Flack, I mean really close! Remember, we may be showering in hotel rooms on trips, three or four boys and girls in one tub!"
She drew him close to her, and deliberately reached down with a soapy washcloth and rubbed around his cock, which was almost up to its full size. "You've really got a beauty, there," she said, surprised that she was able to control her voice so well. "That ought to keep up the girl interest."
He was giggling, now, his eyes bright. "Say, this is pretty good! Let me do you!" He had his own washcloth, and he reached gingerly between Mala's legs, but she laughed at him.
"Don't be so prudish, Flack!" she admonished. "Drop the cloth. Here, your hand's got plenty of suds on it!"
She wiped his young fingers directly into her twat, which she had forgotten to unplug, and felt a furious rush of heat in every nerve. I've got to get more than Jerry can give me, she thought desperately, now that he's taking care of young Sue!
She murmured: "Excuse me, baby," in a whisper, and pulled the sopping tampon out by its string, tossing it in a corner.
"Hey," Roy's voice was alert, "you got your period? Must be over it; no blood!"
She stared at him dumbly, and he looked abashed. "I've got three sisters, older'n I am, and a mother; I guess I never learned to be careful about what I say around women."
Mala hugged him to her, grasping his cock with her soapy hands, jerking it good and hard, back and forth. "You sweet thing," she said, "no wonder I felt so at home with you! I've got four brothers and two sisters. No, my period's due in a couple of days. That," and she pointed to the tampon, "is to keep my silly old twat from leaking all over me! Did your sisters ever have to do that?"
He was rubbing against her, now, trying to hold the circumference of her slick breast, and his voice was husky. 'They told me everything," he said. "They helped me-well, hell, they kept me from going crazy, jerking off!"
He looked angry, his face suffused with the scarlet tide of a blush, and Mala pulled his head down to her breast.
"You can tell me later," she said. "If you want to."
She gave him a big towel and they helped each other dry off. "Get my pussy, silly!" she said with mock severity. "You boys, you just don't know how to dry a girl off."
"I never heard of drying one off," the lad joked. "Jerking, now, that's different!" He laughed and kissed her on one of her damp breasts, and she thought of this boy, too shy to chase girls, taken in hand by sympathetic sisters, taught what to do, how to do it. Must have started a long time ago. And yet he was still shy. And then she had another idea.
"Listen, Roy," she said to him. 'Tell the truth. Are you really afraid of girls? Or do you just use your small size, and your acting ability, to get all the pussy you want?"
She had him by the hard cock, now, and backed him up to the bed, forcing him down. "Back up," she demanded. "Further."
She took his cock in her mouth, then took it off. "I just want to get it lubricated," she whispered, grinning at him. "You're not fooling me, you villain!" She sucked again, so hard and well that his skinny butt raised off the bed, and his hands grabbed at the sides of her head, pulling her down on it.
"That's wet enough," she said. "I'm going to jerk you off, right in my face. Don't worry, baby, I can jerk you off better than you can. Remember, I had four brothers! Oooohh! I love this! Look at that big old red head!"
She was moving the cloaking softness of skin back and forth, kneeling in front of him, between his thighs, with her thumb pointed toward him, her fingers up. The big cock, its head shiny with the distension of engorged blood, was slipping out under her little finger, and she kissed it, licking the drop of clear pre-cum fluid from its little slit. Roy groaned.
"You'd better groan, you little devil," Mala jeered. "You betrayer of helpless girls!" She laughed in her throat, and held her hand still, letting a big gob of saliva drop in amongst her fingers so that the head and most of the foreskin were now bathed in slick spit. Her cunt gave her a sudden shiver of warning, and she held her body still, closing her eyes.
"You want to shoot this load in my face?" she asked. "Or on my tits, my belly? Let it run down in my cunt hair? You must have gotten your poor sisters to do all those things for you!" She jerked very gently now, knowing that this wise little kid was hanging on to his control, even as she was, and she looked with deep joy at his intent young face. I'm so fucking lucky, she told herself, finding a Jerry Jonas with so much native talent, and a wise little bastard like this.
"Let me - feel your cunt!" he whispered raggedly. "I'm about to unload it, Miss Peters. Move up, let me get my fingers up your pussy. Ohhhhh! God damn! Quick! I'm about to cum!"
She pulled him down and onto his side, trying to keep some semblance of control, raising her right leg so he could have a clear passage to her cunt, which had already begun its slow throb of release from her pent-up sex fury. She could feel his fingers go in, feel the skill with which he moved them and then his thumb struck her clit and she let go. Let go as far as her own orgasm was concerned, but held on for his.
His cock had suddenly throbbed and grown larger in her grasp, and now she saw it, the little hole pointing right at her ecstatic face; the head had turned purple, looked ready to burst, and a long, white rope of jism shot out of the threatening ball of flesh, hitting her so hard that it stung.
He was cumming in a torrent of heat and pleasure, the long throbs of flame seeming to roll out over Roy's hand onto her, onto the bed, and she kept aiming the red cock at her mouth, catching most of it, swallowing it, but just as intrigued by the milky, slick spattering on her breasts.
She was on fire all through, and realized that the boy was giving her breasts the most brutal love that he could, squeezing them into blue-veined mouthfuls of tit flesh that squished out between his hard fingers, first one hand and then another, alternating between jabbing them deep up her cunt and pulling her breasts half-off, it seemed in her cum-crazed mind.
He let her suck him a long time, and she made it as gentle as she could, knowing how sensitive his cock was, and she lifted her breasts to lick the lost semen off them.
"That was pretty wild," she whispered at last, and the boy sat up, looking pretty wild himself.
"I've sure played hell," he said. "You'll probably kick my ass out of your class, off your team. I guess mom's right; I'm too much when it comes to sex!"
"Your mom?" Mala gasped. "Not her, too?"
"No!" the kid said. "Not mom! But she caught me with my sisters. And she didn't care about that. Said it might keep me from knocking one of the neighborhood girls up. And they were all on The Pill. God!" he muttered. "I just dig to fuck!"
"You got a pretty good one out at Garth's a week ago," Mala said, watching him start, pleased at his look of alarm. "Pulled that old 'poor little me' trick, didn't you?"
He got up and moved away. "You're too much," he said. "Who tells you all this, Miss Peters?"
She laughed at him, fingering one of her gorgeous tits, and he groaned suddenly, coming back to get on the bed with her. "They're gorgeous," he said huskily. "Even if I am in trouble for fucking a teacher." He held her breast, looking at her pleadingly, and ducked down to suck it.
She pulled away and got up, laughing. "Cut out the drama, you little clown," she said. "Watch this." She opened a drawer in her bureau and carefully, not looking at Roy, put on the wig she had worn the past Friday. "Now, how do you like me?"
He stared at her, goggle-eyed. "I don't believe it," he gasped. "Jesus were you ever good! I was going down to Garth's again tonight, just hoping I'd see that girl. Molly! Be damned!" He reached out his arms to her, and she went to him. He hugged her, burying his face in her fragrant bush of cunt hair, and slyly pushed his tongue into her slit, making her leap when it struck her excited clit.
"You're the best," he muttered. "You're better than any of my sisters. Even better than my oldest sister. And she's thirty-three!" He smiled weakly. "That's on the level, Miss Peters!"
"Practice makes perfect, kid," Mala said, grinning. "And listen, seeing that we've fucked and sucked and God knows what else, maybe you'd better call me Mala! Okay?" She hugged him with real good humor, real affection. "You beat anything I ever saw, except my youngest brother.
And don't ever repeat that, because I'll just say you lied, okay? Now, baby, move over and let's get it up again. I'm going to fix it so that if you go down to that fuck-farm, it'll be as a spectator!"
CHAPTER TEN
That was one of the most magnificently satisfying days of Mala Peters's life. There had been triumphs more spectacular, shared with more people, certainly. But international glories, even in the glamorous world of women's gymnastics, where every male spectator is dazed with the thought of his cock being massaged by those superbly trained cunt muscles, soon fade. And now that she was thirty, such opportunities would not come again. Mala knew it and accepted it.
She was not insecure. She had her investments. Being a teacher, a coach, had its spiritual rewards. But, on a day like this, capping a week like this, she had the greatest gift of all.
Sex!
A deep, enduring knowledge that here, in this small area, she had found what was more important to her than any fading glories-the promise of a full, free, continuing use of her marvelous powers of sex.
In young Jerry Jonas she had found something unbelievable. An eager, naive boy, bursting with the male need and the male impulse to breed, to spread the legs of woman, to plunge a hard penis into an open, slavering, thirsting cunt, and thus, symbolically, to carry on the sacred work of procreation. Marvelous!
And his need for instruction, his sweet, insistent demands for a warm pussy to caress and empty his strong young prick of its itching loads of sperm, what joy this gave to a mind like Mala's, a cunt like Mala's.
And he was hers and always would be hers. She could share his love, his prick, with darling Mae, with the young and juicy Sue Carters of the world. But no man ever breaks loose from his first love, Mala knew. He was hers, and would be hers for as long as she wished.
And now, something new and wonderful had been added.
This acute, sexually precocious youngster who sat astride her chest, his hard muscled thighs holding her sensitive breasts smashed against her, his cock lying slack and sticky across her lips, its his-and-hers taste and smell in exactly the right place to give her the most pleasure.
There was the deep ache of completion between her thighs, deep inside her, far up her pussy. "You'll have to go soon, baby," she whispered, his exhausted cock a tiny bit of pleasure. "It's close to my dinner time; someone will be calling me. I'll drive you home."
He rolled off, laughing. "I hate to go," he said. "Tonight will be, well, sort of empty. Ninety-nine nights out of a hundred, Friday nights especially, I've had sex to think about. Pussies. Warm, slick, wet, pink-on-the-inside, hairy-on-the-outside pussies. Thinking about them, going out for some of that stuff. But tonight, all I'll think of is yours. And I'll be too tired to go out after any other."
She suddenly felt a spiritual and bodily kinship with this skinny little boy that gave her a different sort of warmth from any she had ever known. She pulled him to her, feeling her thighs open as his hard body touched hers, feeling an unexpected throb in a vagina gone slack with hard fucking.
She mumbled at his prick and got it into her mouth without using her hands, and lay quietly with her eyes closed, enjoying the softness and warmth of the big mouthful. He was holding her cunt lips open, too, gently kissing along the convoluted labia, licking with care and precision.
After they had both dressed, he hugged her with his hand under her buttock, and she was thrilled with the maturity, the manliness, of this offhand gesture. He was secure with her.
"Don't drive me home," he said. "I need the workout; I'll do it the Boy Scout way back home-walk a hundred steps, run a hundred. Oh, please, Mala, are you sure this is real? That you're not planning to lower the boom on me?"
"Not as long as you come back soon," she promised, and stood watching him, every cell and every fiber in her pleased and warmly happy.
She walked slowly to the house, looking forward to seeing Mae and Jerry, even to seeing Mister Charles and Esperanza, the maid. They were a part of her life, now; so soon become her family. She had Jerry, she had Roy. In a pinch, she could always find someone lovely at a place like Garth's.
She had no desire to run and cartwheel and flip across the greensward on this Friday evening. There was a deeply pleasant soreness along the big tendons on the inside of her thighs, a lovely, raw feeling in the outer portions of her twat, a glowing, throbbing pain in her swollen tits.
Some of this, most of it, perhaps, came from the sudden, unexpected, totally wild afternoon of fucking. And some, of course, from the onset of her period. A matter of days, possibly a matter of a few hours. She never had worried, never kept the sort of close track that some girls had.
It was warmly amusing to Mala that both Mae and Jerry met her outside the house, on the driveway under the portico. The three of them had a secret; it had nothing to do with excluding Mister Charles, they all would have said. But it was theirs, an exclusive. And after all, would Mister Charles have understood if he had seen his wife kissing the Phys Ed teacher and gymnastic coach so deeply, or seen young Master Jonas with his hand between Miss Peters's legs? On her pussy, in fact?
"Oh, baby, are you wet!" Jerry whispered. "I saw the door was closed. Who was it? Flack?"
Mae giggled. "We had ours, too, didn't we, Jerry darling? Oh, Mala, we're so grateful to you! Jerry and I had two whole hours in his room -I must have fucked the poor baby completely out of his mind!"
They kissed again, all around, and went in. It was such a happy time, so marvelous, promising so much for the future. To be so close to such loving people, to want so deeply to be a part of their lives, to have them as a part of her life, all this meant so much to Mala that she was swept by emotion.
No one saw it except Jerry, and he waited until after dinner, until after Mae and her husband had gone to their quarters, until after Esperanza had cleaned up, and he and Mala were alone. She had walked over to a window, looking out across the grounds, warmly colored by the glare from a gorgeous sunset, and Jerry put his arm lightly around her.
"Something's on your mind," he said. "Are you unhappy?"
She felt a strong wave of love for him, for young Roy, for all the world. It was reaction, she knew, to this two weeks of fulfilling joy, of cock galore, of wild and lewd and boisterous fucking, and to the release from care that it had brought to her. She had been worried, up in Los Angeles.
There was a quick run of wet heat along the inside of her thigh, and she shivered. Jerry, almost as if she had transferred an idea to him, put his hand under her skirt, up to her pussy, and she turned and clung to him, seeking his mouth blindly.
"Watch your hand, darling," she whispered as she drew away. "I think it's my period."
His face was glowing. "I want to see!" he said. "I want to look at it, watch it open up, watch the stuff come out!" He pressed hard against her aching breasts, raising a strange storm of desire in her body.
"Come on to my room," he whispered. "Let's let me look at you there!"
There was no blood on his hand when they got into the sanctuary of his big room, when she had let him peel her dress off, and had gotten on her hands and knees to let him look at the pouting slit of her pussy.
"It feels enormous," she laughed. "It feels as if it were sticking out like kissing lips. Only so big and fat!"
"It looks beautiful!" the boy whispered. "Oh, Mala, thanks for coming up here with me!" He stroked down her wet slit, almost sending her flat on the bed with the intensity of craving his gentle rub had aroused. "I want to suck it!"
He pushed his face between her thighs, between her rounded buttocks, into the slickness of her divided cunt lips, and his. tender sucking made the woman shiver with pleasure.
"Hey!" she said, "I thought you were all drained out after that two hours with Mae!" She put her hand back blindly, and he pulled it against his cock, now sticking out of his fly, where he had eased it a moment before.
"Wow!" she giggled. "Doesn't look much like you're worn out! How about that!"
He got up, licking his lips, running his tongue around them to get the sweetness of her cunt.
"Were you unhappy awhile ago?" he asked, in the act of stripping down his jeans, his shorts.
She was sitting up, now, her strong and beautiful thighs together, and she hugged her breasts, amazed that her body could feel so wanting, after such an afternoon of lust. There was the same flood of emotion she had felt at the table, and she closed her eyes and shuddered.
"Everything seemed too wonderful, all at once, Jerry," she whispered, and knew the sting of tears behind her closed lids. Bittersweet, happiness and fear.
He put out his hand and touched her, and she pressed it to her face. "Don't worry, dear; it's the full of the moon, and every woman's unstable emotionally when that comes around. You don't know it, but you're lucky to find it out from someone like me, who doesn't go under from a natural cause."
He laughed deeply, feeling very much of a man, and his hand pressed against her face. "I want to suck it," he said firmly. 'Then I want to shove it in you! From behind. Okay?"
She was smiling as she got up and went once more to her hands and knees. "I love it this way," she said. "OOooohhh! I feel so leaky! And so puffed out!"
He pressed his whole face deep into her long slit, his nose directly against her anus. His lips covered the aperture of her vagina; he sucked deeply, knowing that any second, such a vacuuming might bring a rush of bright menstrual blood. The thought made his cock throb very hard, gave him an electric thrill of pre-cum sensation.
"I can cum like this, just from your sucking if you want, baby," Mala whispered. 'Then I can suck you. Would that please you?" She suddenly felt a deep desire to please him.
He was sucking again, and then stopped, his face drawn back. "Hey!" he said in an awed voice, "I never saw anything like this! Your asshole's working in and out; does it always do that when you're about to cum?"
Mala, her emotions less turbulent, laughed softly. "I've never been able to watch," she said. "I expect so. There's a very powerful itch in my rectum whenever I'm excited sexually."
She looked over her shoulder at him, her face looking extraordinarily young, flushed with passion and desire-He sucked twice or three times more, each time letting out a yip of glee. "You told me how good your asshole always felt when you were hot," he said. "I stuck my finger up my ass in the shower the other day. Wow! I never realized anybody's rectum had that kind of muscle. Stronger than in your pussy!" His voice was thick, excited, and Mala felt a rage of strange desire eating in her cunt, in her asshole.
"If you want to try it, try to get it in my ass, you can, Jerry," she panted. "Have you got any vaseline? Any cold cream? It has to be something slick."
She felt a slow burning, a craving, deep in her bowels, and was almost sick with need and with the fear he might falter. But he went quickly into his bathroom and came back with a tube of something. 'This is slicker than anything else I know," he said huskily. "It's K-Y Jelly. I use it to jerk off!"
She had her head down, her arms braced, her entire body trembling and hot with the crazy desire that swept her. "Shall I turn, baby, so that you can see it go in in the mirror?" she asked, and it was all she could do to get the words out.
"Yes!" he cried. "Yes, yes! I want to see!"
She turned and opened her thighs a little more, and felt the petals of her inner lips shrink from the cool air as her cunt opened. The boy was sideways to her, still on the floor, holding on to one of her breasts, and he said: "Good Christ!" in a choked voice, and almost tore the tender globe from her body in an excess of passion. "Oh, Mala, you're so wonderful!"
He got behind her, and she felt a sudden, fierce pang in her anus, then deeper in her rectum, and she cried: "Wait! Go easy, for God's sake! Don't split me!"
It was a violent sensation, not pain, but a pleasure based on pain, and her entire body was weak with the love of it, and with the knowledge that she would cum as soon as he got so much as the head of his cock into her asshole.
But to her surprise, he giggled. 'It's only my thumb," he said. "I'm greasing you up; my thumb slipped in!"
"Hurry, then!" she said between her teeth. The skin on her neck was crawling, her belly muscles were rippling with lust, her cunt felt as if it were eating itself.
There was a greater pressure now on her acutely sensitive anus, a dreadful sense of strain, happy but fearful, and she shut her eyes in fear that she might faint from the pain before he got it in her, or from the joy, afterward. He had a big cock; it had to slide into a darker world of tighter muscles, unaided by natural lubrication, as her cunt was.
There was a fresh burst of intense discomfort, as though she were giving birth to the most immense turd of her life, and her elbows buckled. Glancing to her left in the mirror, She saw that young Jerry's face was taut, his eyes closed with strain and expectation, and she thought: "Maybe I'm hurting him as much as he's hurting me!" And then, in happy shock, the realization struck through her: It's a hurt that I love!
Perhaps the thought loosened her, relaxed her, for there was a blinding burst of sensation, a feeling as if her entire bottom had opened, and she saw in the mirror that his belly was against her tautly rounded rump, felt the bigness of his cock deep in her bowels, and as she went down on her elbows, her ass still up, against him, enclosing his long prick, she heard him cry out: "Oh, God, Mala! I've got it in your ass! I'm fucking you in your ass! Oh, God, Mala! It's marvelous!"
There was a wild flood of orgasm shaking the woman, too; her cunt seemed to turn inside out in its wild spasms, which seemed all the more intense because there was no hard meat inside her writhing vagina. The fulfillment of having this boy's tool in her rectum, stirring the ultra sensitive nerve ends in that tender area, lifted her in raw delirium, and she screamed: "Oh, yes, baby!
Fuck me good! Shoot your jism into mama's guts! Fuck me, my darling! Ooooohhh! OOooohhhh!"
There was a great weight bearing down on her; in a moment of clarity between spasms of lust, she saw in the glass that the tall boy's hands were grasping for her tits. His weight was too much for her, and she fell prone, his cock still wildly pouring his slick seed into her bowels. He was pulling on her breasts, holding big handfuls of the soft tissue, and he was groaning: "Oh, Mala, it's so beautiful! Fucking's so beautiful! Oh, oh God! I'm still cumming!"
The powerful muscles of her sphincter were still milking his cock as if they would draw it all the way through her colon, but the storm was subsiding.
She was getting more clear of head and eye; she thought once more: This is too good to be true, this love, this sex, this tall, sweet boy fucking me so proudly. She felt grateful enough to cry, and then, in the mirror which showed them outlined against the dark paneled walls of Jerry's room, caught a movement in her peripheral vision. And her mind caved in.
There could be no mistake. There in the crack of the door, plainly detailed in the bright light from the room, was Lew Jonas, his big, kindly face set in a mask-like gravity, as if he could not believe his eyes.
And as Mala looked, with all her bright world, all her beautiful hopes falling in shabby ruins, the door was closed gently, soundlessly, and with it, the lovely future was closed, too.
She would not hurt Jerry with her knowledge. She let him laugh and stroke her, and kiss her breasts, exclaiming over their size, over the rigid nipples so dark with blood. She lay smiling on her back as he sucked deeply of her twat, her cunt now so lax that he could get his tongue into it as far as he could reach.
And, when he said laughingly: "You must be really wasted, not to buck and jump when I eat all the way to your womb," she patted his curly head and said softly, "You're my darling, Jerry; it just feels so sweet and wonderful to have your mouth on my cunt, to have your tongue way up me!"
She got away as quickly as she could, and once she was outside, let the sick, angry tears flow. God damn it! she said in her mind. Why in hell did he have to come back now?
She started to run, and felt a gush of hot fluid from her cunt, and knew angrily that this was, for certain, her menstrual flow, brought on by the massive heat of Jerry's fuck.
Like a baby, she wailed aloud, her thoughts black and rebellious: Why now? Damn it! When I'm not feeling too good anyhow! When I'm farting and sick and lonely!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When she was inside the guest house she ripped off her dress, turned on the shower, and washed herself, cleaning the blood from her beautiful thighs, jamming a tampon up her vagina.
Every thought was pure agony, the luxury of the cottage which she was leaving, the mirror in which she had so enjoyed watching herself and Jerry, herself and Jerry and Mae, herself and young Roy Flack, all of it lost, the sweetness of her life here, and her belief that she was secure.
"Secure, my ass!" she said.
She thought of the "ironclad" contract. "It's not worth a shit!" she muttered. "Sure, I could screw the principal on the fifty-yard line. But not his baby boy! I can shove the contract right up my ass!" She was sobbing, thinking of the bleakness confronting her. All the rich man had to do was call in the District Attorney, tell him what had happened. Then where'd her contract be? "Contributing to the delinquency of a minor," that would look good in her record. No more teaching ever.
"Peters, you're a Goddamned jerk!" she muttered. And then, knowing that she had never meant to harm anyone, least of all Jerry, or Lew Jonas, or his family, she sat on the bed, no longer strong and beautiful, but slack, beaten, a lost soul.
She heard the door open softly, but didn't look up. Probably an unhappy fifteen-year-old boy, shocked to learn he was losing his fucking friend, unable to do anything about it.
She was shocked almost into a faint when a big hand came down on her shoulder, and a deep voice said: "Hey, Mala! Don't cry, my dear! There's nothing to cry about!"
Even when she looked up through her bitter tears and saw big, gentle Lew Jonas, it was hard to believe. She was naked, her cunt stopped with a wad of cellulose, her face wet with despairing tears, and he was smiling at her, taking her chin in his hand, repeating: "Don't cry! Please, Mala!"
It was too much for her. She found her face pressed against the smooth flannel of his slacks, into the concave warmth of his crotch. Her arms were around his strong hips, her tears were gushing again, but this time they were tears of hope, of relief. And just this much pressure told her another thing-there was a very large cock hanging in those slacks. Not a hard one, certainly, but getting that way.
"Oh, Lew," she sobbed, "don't play cat and mouse with me! If I have to leave, tell me! I know what I did was rotten, rotten, bad!"
He tugged at her hair, forcing her to look up. His smile was gentle. "You don't mean that," he said. "You mustn't say it, you mustn't think it!"
The terrible load which had been on her heart, hard and cold as ice, began to break up, to flood away in a warm stream.
"If you say so, Lew," she murmured.
He pulled her head to his crotch again, holding her face against him in a fatherly way. She did not feel his hidden cock throb, but she sensed that it had grown slightly.
He was talking somewhere up there above her head, but she did not pay attention. The fact that this great and good man had, somehow, found it in his heart to forgive the unforgivable was making her cry. She tasted tears, her mouth was flooded with saliva, she was working quietly on his belt, then on the fastening of his slacks, then his zipper.
"Oh, don't, Mala," he said, but he did not move her head. Instead, he was leaning forward, his hands on her naked shoulders, bracing himself, as she fumbled the big, near-hard cock out into the open, ran the soft, steamy foreskin back, and took the big head into her mouth.
She sucked gently for a moment, running her tongue all around the glans, digging the soft tip into the two crevices alongside the cord. Above her, the kindly man was groaning, and his hands were gently holding her blonde head.
In a rush of understanding and emotion, she let the cock slip out of her mouth and hugged him hard, her cheek against his cock and the sweat-dampened ruff of pubic hair around it. He had forgiven her, indeed, if he had not pushed her away.
"You're a saint, Lew," she whispered, and he laughed just a bit chokily.
"Not much of a saint, considering," he said. "But Martha -well," and his voice dropped off. "Damn it!" he cursed. "I've always despised a man who discussed his home sex life!"
"But there are some things Martha draws the line at?" Mala said, her smile hidden from him. "Oral sex, for example?"
"You understand, Mala, don't you, my dear?"
"I understand that Martha doesn't dig oral sex. I don't understand why!" she said. "Oh, Lew, it's so delicious! It's got so much character!" She mouthed the big head again, and sucked it as though it were a ripe and juicy plum. "I don't know why any woman wouldn't love to suck this beauty!"
He laughed, one short bark, and groaned: "Easy, Mala! I'm not used to anything this, uh, hot and wonderful!"
She looked up at him, smiling, holding the big, warm organ in her hand. "It's not hard," she said. "And I know you're not impotent. It's, what? Not fear of failure. You need never fear anything with me, my dear. I owe you too much!"
"Conditioning, I guess," the big man answered quietly. "It's hard to keep up interest by yourself."
"Undress," she ordered gaily. "Take care of your shirt; I'll get the rest." Then, when he was as naked as she: "Lie down here, on your back. That's right. Put your feet on the floor. Oh, Lew, don't feel badly because it's not hard! I love it this way. Really I do!"
She sat comfortably between his extended legs, more or less sideways to him, on her left hip, and held his cock gently to her lips, kissing its head, looking up at him as he got up on his elbows. Her pussy, hot and swollen where it had, during her deep dejection a few minutes earlier, been dry and anesthetized, throbbed softly, compressed between her thighs and buttocks.
"I'll come pretty soon," Lew said. "Since we're not, well, doing anything together, will that be all right?"
She kissed his cock all the way from head to root, taking one of his big balls in her mouth and rolling it in that hot, slick bath of warm saliva and working lips. When she removed it, she twinkled her eyes at him. "Anything you do is all right," she whispered.
With his soft, warm cock so sweet and tender against her tongue, she thought of this wonderful person, this kindly honest, generous man who should have been at the height of his sexual powers, but who was doomed to a half-life because of a maladjustment with his wife, the woman he loved. Her tears began to flow, and she moved to get on her knees, pulling his legs across her shoulders.
She felt his body tense, and there was just a small feel of throb in his big, soft peter, and then her grateful mouth was awash with his warm flow of jism. Not hot jets, just a rhythmic tide that gushed gently into her throat, over her taste buds, refilling her mouth after each swallow. He's got plenty in there, she thought happily. He's a lot of man In a week or two, with a little work and a little love, I'll have his cock as hard as a billiard cue.
Her cunt felt hotter, itchier, fatter, as it always did during her period, especially on the first day, and she got up very carefully. Lew did not miss the significance of her movements. "You need a cum, too, don't you, my dear?" he asked softly. "Get up here; my penis is no good, but my tongue's long and hard!" and allowed himself a small laugh.
Still careful not to let her cunt lips rub together, lest she fall into a fit of orgasm, Mala got to where she could kiss him. "Don't talk like that," she admonished him. "I'll just lean against your arm; that'll make me cum. Honest, Lew! Stop, Lew! I've got a tampon in it; I've just got my period!"
He held her with fierce tenderness. "You sit right where I was, and let me worry about your condition," he said softly. "Get your knees up, put your feet on my shoulders. Ah, my dear, that's beautiful! So open, so sweet!"
He looked up at her. "I'm so grateful to you," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "What you've done - are doing - for Jerry. It's what I hoped." He looked down at her opened cunt, and a bit of spittle appeared at the corners of his mouth. "You see," he said very low, "there was a, well, a Mala Peters in my life, too. When I was Jerry's age. Someone who taught me to be a man, who taught me what being a woman should mean to a girl! I've never forgotten."
Relaxed and happy, Mala was warmed by the unshakable knowledge that all of this was not too good to be true, that it was, in fact, now better than she had ever dreamed. Not just all the juvenile sex she wanted, but a God-given chance to repay this generous soul, to recreate his manhood, to hold his sweet, outpouring cock in her cunt as well as in her mouth.
In the tall mirror a few feet away, she could see the reflection of her pussy, and once again she knew that love she felt for this taffy-haired, wet-lipped possession. She could see her breasts, too, their big nipples so hard and dark with heat and love and excitement. Her inner lips, so swollen on account of her condition, were almost as dark as the nipples.
She felt a sweet, unbelievably moving pull inside her, and saw Lew's hand in the mirror. "My God, Lew!" she cried, as she saw the scarlet-dripping ball of cotton he had dragged from her wildly throbbing vagina, "don't! Oh, Jesus, Lew! Oh, suck me, darling! suck me! Ooooohhh! OOoooooohhhhh God!"
And then, as his mouth came up her flowing slit, his lips and tongue drawing on her bursting clitoris, she locked her strong legs around the man's dark head, holding his face to her cunt, letting herself cum and cum and cum, while tears of happiness overflowed her eyes and wave after wave of the most intense orgasm flooded her. She was secure. She was happy.
