Take one mother-daughter team, let both of them become frustrated and passionate and lusting after a male ... and turn both of them on to the same target ... the horny little paperboy who services their route.
That's what makes The Paperboy Is Coming!
The daughter accidentally sets him up for the mother, only she didn't know it at the time, she was too busy trying to get to his hunky little body herself. The happy trap puts his bait right where mother could reach it, and she did, gobbling down every fiery drop.
It didn't take her daughter long, though, to catch on to what had happened, so she set another trap, and this time she dragged him off into a secret room and lowered the boom on him. ... Either he did exactly what she told him to do to her, every time she wanted it done, or she would blow the whole scheme and tell everyone what she knew.
Of course, that isn't all she blew, but that's another part of the story.
Carolyn Hunt consistently turns in exciting novels for Surrey House, Inc., and her strictly adult, The Paperboy Is Coming! is definitely no exception. If you think the same way, jump aboard the paperboy's bike, grab him tight and hold him for dear life ... and see just how good a ride the kid can give you....
CHAPTER ONE
Sheri Meredith was a Navy wife, so she should have been used to being left alone. After eighteen years of it, and getting on toward forty, who the hell would think she would miss her guy as much as she did?
She scratched at her crotch, at her pubic mound, really, where she felt a mild itch, and grinned at her reflection in an oriental mirror. "like some hot-pants schoolgirl," she said aloud, a habit she naturally enjoyed during the lonely months when Brooks was on sea duty.
Well, she hadn't changed much. Even when she was in her early twenties, and her body really should have been a lot more fired up for good old Brooksy's peter, she could always stand it a month before she got really antsy. And here she was thirty-eight, and he'd been gone a month, and bingo! The heat was on!
She heard her daughter rummaging around in her own bedroom, and smiled. The very thought of having a kid had scared the pants off her. Nearly twelve years ago when she'd come back from the Navy Hospital, feeling very lost and hollow inside, dreading to tell Brooks what had happened inside her. Was happening. A baby, growing in her womb, for Christ's sake! She'd never even thought of it like that, never even thought of having a womb! She remembered how she had hurriedly undressed, looking at her belly in the mirror to see if it showed yet. Wow! Talk about stupid!
She patted her belly, now, twelve years later, with a good deal of pride and satisfaction. The old bod hadn't changed all that much. Maybe ten pounds heavier, maybe twelve. She was five feet, seven inches tall, and twelve pounds properly distributed over sixty-seven inches of vertical measure didn't make too much difference. She had always been proud of her figure. Brooksy had told her when they were first going together that she was built like a brick shithouse. And when he took her to the NCO club on the base, there were always more than a few wolf whistles. Nice!
She turned in profile, and chuckled. "Only thing I wear that's changed in size is my bra," she murmured, sort of low, so that her daughter Rocky wouldn't hear her. Kids that age were always looking for an advantage over a parent. Especially a mother. If Rocky had something to poke fun at, to laugh at, she'd get no peace.
So, she'd been nuts to worry so, twelve years ago. After all, it hadn't torn her up down there. She'd been scared of that. Brooks had always been happy that her cunt'd been so tight. "My gal's got a pussy like a mouse's ear," he'd said, many a time, kissing her.
Just for fun, she opened her robe and really sized herself up. If she did say so herself, she had a hell of a figure for a girl-a woman, that is-of thirty-eight. Boobs, belly, butt, legs. "Enough to drive a guy out of his nut," Brooksy had whispered, the first time he'd worked her up to such a peak of heat that she no longer could gasp "No!" as he wrestled her down on her couch.
He was a good man, her husband. And a hell of a lover. Always had been, and still was.
But he'd be gone a minimum of seven months, maybe a year, and she suddenly longed for his strong, well-built body, his laughing ways, his zest in life, his cock. And his joy in sex.
She was lifting her breasts in her hands, looking in the mirror, thinking how swell it would be if good old Brooksy opened the door, walked in, and grabbed her up. Man, she'd do everything with him! Everything! It hadn't really been fashionable to eat pussy or to suck a cock when she and Brooks started getting it on. But he talked to her about it very seriously, and even brought her a book by some European guy, a doctor, which said it was perfectly all right.
And God! How she had loved it! Either way! like the doctor said, it must be a natural thing, otherwise, why would so many people do it that way?
She thought of Brooks, naked and on his knees on her carpet, while she, just as naked, had leaned back on her couch with her legs wide apart and her ass pushed up to him. Not giving it to him. She was incapable of thinking of it that way. She was taking it from him just as much as she was giving. Just thinking of it made her hotter than ever. It was a part of this cunt heat that drove her half crazy when her husband had to be gone a long time.
She suddenly squeezed her breasts in a fiercely sexual gesture that was part of her agony of loneliness, and they were so sensitive that a lightning burst of heat burned from them right down to her cunt. "Oh, God, baby! How I wish you were here!" she gasped. "Man! Would I ever give you the works! Suck you, baby! And fuck you, too!"
She heard little Rocky slamming drawers in her room, and had to smile. She'd had to argue a little bit with Brooks about naming the kid Raquel. But Raquel Welch had been getting all that publicity, all through her pregnancy. And she had hoped that the baby, if it were a girl, would grow up to be beautiful and famous. If she'd known everyone would call her Rocky, maybe she might have thought up a different name. But what the hell! Rocky was a real good nickname. And, if the kid was a little bit feisty at times, and inclined to think she was big enough to make her own decisions, well, it added spice to her life.
She closed her robe hastily as Rocky's bedroom door banged. Damn good thing, too, for here she came, barging right in.
"Hi, Mom!" the blonde child said. Every inch of her slender but burgeoning body seemed alert and alive. Her breasts, which had blossomed almost overnight, it seemed to Sheri, were small and hard, and almost half nipple. Sheri's heart swelled. Her kid, a woman! Incredible!
"Hi, baby," the mother answered. Hell of a note that a girl christened Raquel should be so blonde, but what can you do? "Are you okay?" Sheri asked idly.
The slender young chick turned big blue eyes innocently on her parent. "Well, I'm not knocked up, if that's what you mean," the girl answered pertly. "But I'm trying!"
"Hush, you idiot," her mother said and laughed. "You'd better be glad you're living today. If I'd said that to my mom when I was your age," and she raised her fist, "Pow! Right in the kisser!"
Rocky snuggled against her mother's warm, firm body. "You always smell good, Mom," she murmured. "And have you ever got the boobs!" She pressed her young face in them.
For the tick of a clock, Sheri was perturbed, thinking that her little daughter was much too advanced, sexually. But then she thought helplessly: She's human. She's my daughter. I can't remember when I wasn't interested in my pussy!
"Thanks, honey," the mother whispered, holding her child to her. "You'll have nice ones, too! Are you going out?"
Rocky started. "Oh, hell, Mom! I came in to tell you something. You know that newspaperboy. He's coming! What I mean," she giggled, "he's in the building, hustling subscriptions. Mom, why don't you take the paper? You said last night you hated to stay up so late to hear the news! Please, Mom?"
"Get out of here!" Sheri said good naturedly. "I know what you want. He's your friend's brother and he's too cute to live. Isn't that what I heard you telling Sandy?"
Little Rocky danced away, laughing, and stopped at the door.
"You better believe he's cute," the child said. "But he's too shy to live, too. But if we took that paper, maybe he'd notice me when I'm over at his house!"
She darted out and Sheri heard the front door bang. Kids! Always in a hurry! She felt older, just seeing how light on her feet that crazy kid was. And she felt crawly and wet down there in her twat. Crawly and wet and open, like her darned old pussy was crying for something to be stuck into it.
Fat chance! Once or twice, when Brooks had been off on one of those horrible tours that never seemed to end, she'd put it out to guys she liked. But it wasn't worth it.
First of all, screwing the same guy-especially if he's real good at it-over the years, you get used to each other. He knows where your feel-good spots are, and how to stir them up. And no one-night-stand guy ever gets to know you, to know what you want and what you need. And if they don't ask, you feel like a nut, trying to tell them. No guy wants to get turned on that he's not a good lay.
The doorbell rang, and she took another look in the mirror. Probably only that paperboy. But her heartbeat quickened and the crawly itch between her fat cunt lips was like a little tongue of fire. A tongue! Why in hell did she have to think of it in that way? Whew! A tongue would feel so great, slick and strong, pressing up her raw, red, sensitive fuck channel, licking up her cunt juice.
And with that thought there came another, just as devastating-the sensation of a sweet, hard cock in her mouth. All its marvelous male rankness to taste and smell! All that thick, soft skin to roll back with lips and tongue, so she could suck all that powerful-tasting stuff right off from around the head! OOOOHH! It was enough to make her cum, right there in her living room.
She was at the door, now. She felt that someone was outside. She checked her robe. It was modestly closed, but excitement had made her nipples stick out like thumbs. But to hell with how they looked. They felt like one good suck from a guy's mouth would send pounding cum-waves blazing across her belly, down to her cunt. Good thing I'm not a guy, she thought. Vd have a hard-on like a concealed weapon sticking out down there, pushing at my robe.
She opened the door and a strange thing happened. It was only a kid. And not a very impressive kid, at that. Not as tall as she was. Kind of skinny. She knew him, or felt she did. He surely had been around, once or twice. She even recognized him as the brother of Sandra Stone, Rocky's best friend.
But just seeing him there at her door, smiling a sort of come-on smile, changed her entire attitude. Here is fair game.
A kid that age had a cock. It might be no bigger than a weenie, but it was still a cock. It would get hard. It would shoot that delicious, slick, hot juice. And a kid this age was always horny. She remembered her two brothers. She remembered some of the stuff that Brooksy had told her about himself when he was fifteen.
"We used to jerk off all the time," he had said. "We never had so much as seen a grown-up cunt, with hair on it. Except maybe our mom's. Or one of our sister's. And we didn't have all those skin books and magazines like today."
She had had three or four shots of bourbon since lunch. It was a bad habit, but it relieved the loneliness. And maybe it made her just a bit more brazen than she'd have been, sober. And, during the fleeting second it took for all of this to flash through her cunt-fevered mind, she had this overwhelming thought: I'm going to fuck him if it's the last thing I do!
He was opening his mouth. "Oh, hi, there, Mrs. Meredith. It is Mrs. Meredith, isn't it?" If he was as shy as Rocky said, he wasn't showing it. "I'm Jeff Stone, your Evening Tribune carrier boy."
She stepped back. "Come in, Jeff," she said hoarsely. "I know who you are. Sandra's brother. Come in! I need help!"
He followed her in and she turned away from him, going into the hall, turning down toward the big bedroom where she and Brooks slept. When Brooks was at home. The kid was following. He looked puzzled, but still smiled.
Sheri turned to him as she got near the bed, and said in a pleading whisper: "Help me sit down. Oh, that's nice! You're so strong! How old are you, Jeff?"
He was panting, and not from exertion. She had turned so that his hand had fallen on her breast, and she had swayed so that he squeezed it. Also, she had let the robe fall partway open. One of her tits was almost at his mouth.
"I'm fifteen," he said. "Wow! What's the matter, Mrs. Meredith? Heart attack?"
"No," she groaned. "I expect you've had some First Aid training, haven't you?"
"I'm a Boy Scout," he answered proudly. "First Class. Going for Eagle Scout. I've got thirteen Merit Badges."
She lay back, opening up her thighs, knowing that the robe showed them almost up to her cunt. "It's a cramp," she said. "Here," pointing to the inside of her left thigh. "It's killing me! Can you massage it?"
She did not dare look at him, afraid the cock-hunger in her face would frighten him out of her bedroom. Instead, she closed her eyes, took his limp hand, which had dropped his little receipt book, and put it inside the robe, on the warm, smooth skin. "Please!" she whispered. "Oh, please! It hurts me so!"
Mechanically, he began to rub, and he had some idea of massage, for he put real pressure into it, with a rotating motion that alternately tightened and loosened the skin around her cunt.
Very casually, as though it were accidental, she raised her right arm and put it around his narrow hips. When he made an involuntary motion to break away, she held him and moaned.
"Oh, don't stop, Jeff, it feels so good! Listen, let me get a little further onto the bed. Then kneel down. You must be getting your back all tired."
He could only make a sort of whinnying noise, his voice seemed to be clogging his throat, and she sneaked a look at his crotch. He had a hard-on, a lovely hard-on, and it wasn't small at all. Not like Brooksy's. But, oh! Wonderful!
He had dropped to his knees, as she had urged, and having moved further onto the bed, she could get her thighs wider apart. In fact, her right foot was on the floor, and now she knew that he could see her twat. He was panting like a dog, and so was she.
"Listen, Jeff, I know you've got a sister. And a mother," Sheri said, trying to sound both pained and grateful. "You've seen women's, uh, these things," she whispered. She shamelessly took his hand and put it directly on her cunt, wiping his fingers up and down in the slick, explosively sensitive trough of her inner labia. Oh, God, she thought, help me say the right words! I have to have him!
She felt his body go tense, felt his hand stiffen as if it were a cock. She was bursting with the need for a cum. Her clit was swollen, throbbing. Her cunt was convulsing for the need of something hard and solid, and she could feel her clear, hot cum-juices welling out and tickling down into the hairs around her ass-hole. She could not help what she did, with all this need and bodily craving joining with the few shots of booze.
She pulled his face down to hers, used her left hand to jam his fingers hard into or against her spasming cunt, and opened her mouth as his came down to it. Somehow, somewhere, he had learned something about French kissing. After a second of hesitation, his tongue dipped timidly into her mouth and she was kissing him feverishly, letting the hard cum-waves lash in her belly, twist her writhing cunt so that it closed on the boy's fingers. He was whining inarticulately, his mouth wide open to the warm, slick strength of her tongue, and she could feel his body jerking while his hand rhythmically sluiced in and out of her thick cunt lips, deep into her flowing twat.
He smiled at her weakly when she at last let him go. He seemed more shy, now, and wanted to get to his feet. But she held him, smiling at him until he smiled in return. And then she said: "Wow! That was a complete surprise to me! But you sure know how to rub a woman. My cramp is nearly gone."
"Thanks," he answered. "Gosh, that kind of scared me. I never, well. . . " He paused, looking away. He was blushing. "In all my life, nothing like this ever happened to me."
She let him stand up, but held his hand. The dry one. The other would be slick with her cum, she knew. Would he smell it? Lick it? Would he be turned on?
His hard-on was gone, but there was a dark wet spot. He shot his load in his pants, the woman thought. It would be cold and slick, she knew, and the idea would make him uncomfortable.
She sat up and held him to her. "Listen, Jeff," she whispered, "you must let me help you. I know what's happened. Look in that room, there," and she pointed. "It's my bathroom. Get the pink washcloth. And a glass of water."
Her face was flushed and burning as she watched him go. Hot damn! This was better than nothing. At least she had gotten her rocks off, as Brooksy would say. Christ! She could fuck all afternoon and all night. She let her robe go all the way open and was inwardly delighted when she saw the look on the kid's face as he emerged from the bathroom.
"Come here," she said kindly. "You can't go around with that stuff dripping inside your pants, now, can you?" She smiled at him archly, and took hold of the waistband of his slacks. He smiled rather feebly, but came to her.
She did not look up as she boldly unfastened his pants and worked his zipper down. His cock almost blinded her with desire, it was so lovely. Not so enormous, but it was nice and fat. Better still, its shriveling head was smeared with the slick shine of boyish jism. She could not help it. She placed the washcloth on the bed, ran her bare hand into the soaking inside of his pants, and turned them out. Without a glance at him, she sucked the fabric into her mouth, running her mouth around it, sucking up all she could get of that rich, utterly male deliciousness. Although she knew it might frighten the wits out of him, she ran her tongue up and down on the fabric, then sucked again, until there was nothing left but the dampness from her lips.
She was forming words to excuse herself, to rationalize. After all, he was a purik kid, what did he know? But an amazing thing happened. His cock throbbed.
He was looking right down the front of her. Her tits were out in plain view. They were even bigger than usual, swollen with the sweetness and blood flow from her cum. Her nipples were out like small cocks. Her dark bush of cunt hair was between her thighs. But even so, she was grateful that he had not been turned off, cooled off, shut away by the display of raw sex and adult heat. His cock had throbbed!
She was holding his opened slacks like a sack, with her face pressed into it. In the dark closeness, there was the rank smell of male sweat, of drops of urine not shaken off, of a boy's crotch. Even the powerful aroma from his ass-hole. And also in the fabric she had sucked so clean of his big load of semen, the same gamy tastes, the same randy maleness.
It was a fuck-smell, so potent that her cunt swelled and throbbed, just as his cock had. And with that, she lost her fear, forgot all the terrible things that might happen if the boy was chicken, if she were caught, if she were charged with any of the evil things the law provides for sex offenders.
She took his cock with one hand, very carefully, just at the base. There was a little ring of crisp hair around it. Only a little, so small an amount that it was touching, but it was also exciting. To have a boy!
She jacked tenderly and slowly, and opened her mouth to a big "O" to suck that delightful peter into her mouth. It was divine, strong and tasty, and the skin was so loose and thick that her pointed tongue easily pushed it back. She ran the tip of her tongue slowly under the swelling head. She could feel the cord that goes right to the little slit in the glans.
She knew that this was the tenderest, most sensitive area in the male sex organ, and she licked at it tenderly, but with increasing force as her cunt sucked together, giving her a sharp thrust of cum-need. To her great joy, she felt the young boy's hand on her head, gently pressing it forward. And another small miracle-he fucked his loins toward her face, driving his hardening cock deep into her throat. Anything but a cock would gag me, her deeply pleased mind said, and she hungrily reached for his free hand and pressed it hard against one of her warm, heavy breasts.
He gripped the big tit convulsively, the pain and joy almost raising her ass off the bed, and Sheri swallowed as her mouth threatened to overflow from a gush of saliva. This made her throat muscles close on his cockhead, and he lunged at her with a deep groan.
He kept her hand on the lower part of his cock, jacking the skin in rhythm as he fucked into her mouth, but now she took her other hand and fumbled blindly for his balls.
She had seen them when she first opened his pants. Having blown his load in his slacks, the young scrotum was relaxed, but now it was drawn tight again by passion. His large, tender sex eggs were held against his engorging pole, and she could feel the hard length of it back of his nuts with her finger.
She began to rock back and forth on her ass, knowing that, when his balls exploded their newly secreted cum into her happy mouth, she would burst with a responsive orgasm, just from the rub of the coverlet. And the idea of the cock she was sucking. She was hanging on the very edge of an almighty cum, and she could feel young Jeff's body tensing and trembling, when there was a rattle of knocks on the door, and her daughter's voice crying: "Mom! Mom! What's the matter? Let me in!"
She almost choked as the boy turned and pulled his cock out of her craving mouth. Her cunt was juicing up a wet storm, and she was glad she had been sitting on her robe. Otherwise, there would have been pussy-tracks all over the bedspread.
She whispered' "Fasten your pants and cool it! It's all right, hear?" because he looked as if he would die of fright.
She walked leisurely to the open door into the hall, nodding at Jeff to follow her, and noted that he was already zipping up his fly, and his face looked less panicky.
"Hold it! Hold it!" she called to her daughter. "I'm on my way! What's the matter? How'd this door get locked?"
She smiled at her daughter's furious young face as she let the child in, and said: "My goodness, that's dumb! I must've put the night latch on when I let Jeff in. He was giving me a big snow job about the Tribune. Almost had me sold, too, didn't you, Jeff?" She was able to laugh, although there was a deep and frustrated ache in her vagina, all the way up to her womb.
Rocky looked from one to the other. "What took you so long to get to the door?" she asked harshly. I'd swear I smell pussy, she thought eagerly. "Must've been pretty busy."
"Oh, yeah," Sheri answered easily. "I was having coffee, and when Jeff sat down to write me out a receipt, I knocked the cup over and some of it spilled on the front of Jeff's pants. I told him to go in the bathroom and sponge it off good with cold water."
"That's right," the boy agreed. "That's what my mom always does for coffee stains. Well, maybe I better finish that receipt, Mrs. Meredith. Let's see, I think I left my receipt book in there," and he nodded toward the bedroom, "when I went to clean up."
He grinned at Sheri and she thought admiringly: You're a sharp little burglar!
He got the book and his pen and came back. "It's four dollars a month," he said unblushingly. And Sheri had to smile.
"All right," she agreed. "But I'm going to pay you every week. A buck a week, see? That way, if I don't like it, I can cut you off at the pockets any time."
He gave her a funny look. Once again he seemed unsure of himself, not the boy whose cock had jerked as she sucked it, not the boy who had fucked into her throat with such courage.
She gave him a check for one dollar, deliberately leaving it unsigned, and handed it to him folded. Rocky jumped up and down and ran to Sheri and kissed her.
"Oh, I'm so glad you did it, Mom!" she cried. "See, Jeff, I told you I'd fix it for you, didn't I?" And, as the boy closed the door behind him, she said: "Gee, thanks, Mom. That was great. Now I can see him every afternoon when he brings the paper!"
And Sheri, smiling over the dry ache in her unfucked cunt, thought: Not if I see him first!
CHAPTER TWO
The Naval Training Center is just north of San Diego. Point Loma is next, an area of old but beautiful homes, many of them worth a bundle of money. And some of them nice, but not so rich. like the Stones' house. Two blocks over from Rosecrans Boulevard, which fronts NTC.
It stood on a slight rise, and was blessed with old trees, green grass and shrubs on a large lot, and plenty of room. Both of the kids had their own private domain, with a bath between. Nancy Stone, an earthy, good-humored woman in her ripe, late thirties, occasionally thought it might be just as well if the kids could be at least across the hall from each other. No one could miss the fact that Sandra, at twelve, was not just an unusually pretty child. She was also an unusually well-developed child. Meaning, of course, that she was stacked.
Breasts as big, almost, as Nancy's. And she'd been menstruating for over a year. Had everything a woman needed, as a matter-of-fact. So much hair on her pretty little pussy that some of it always seemed to stick out on each side of the bottom strap of her tiny bikini. And vigorously resisted Nancy's good-natured suggestions that she keep it trimmed.
Which meant that little Sandy, no longer a little girl, used that fetching tracery of cunt hair along her upper thighs to tell the world that she was a woman.
No, not the world, Nancy corrected her own thinking. Just her world. The boys and the girls who spent their time, as Sandra did, in sweated, sandy-rumped content on the beaches so near and so lovely. Because girls had to be impressed, too. Because girls had to have girl friends to admire them, to look up to them. like little Rocky Meredith. Little Rocky, a year younger than Sandra, but the two were inseparable.
That was little Rocky on the phone now. Nancy had picked up the phone on its first ring and had heard Sandra answer on her own extension, a gift from her father on her twelfth birthday. And she had said: "Hi, Rocky. Sorry, Sandra. I'll hang up." And she had. Although, to tell the truth, she wished sometimes that she could listen in. Just to find out what her daughter was really thinking. She'd bet a good lunch it'd really be interesting.
She would have won.
"Hey, you sure your old lady's not on the phone?" the younger girl asked. "I know I'm okay. My mom's gone to the market."
"It's okay, baby. Couldn't be any other way." Sandra's drawl was very sophisticated, very cool, as befitted the ranking leader of this twosome.
"What's on your cute little mind?"
Rocky's voice was hoarse with excitement. "Never mind my cute little mind," she said. "Are you ready for this? I think that Jeff's trying to get it on with my mother! How does that grab you? I mean it."
Sandra held on to her pose with an effort. "Don't be nuts," she said tersely. "My brother's too damned shy to do anything but beat his meat." She whispered into the phone: "Hold it a minute," and went to the door of her room, looking into the living room where the phone was, then into the kitchen. Her mother was at the stove, her back to the girl, and Sandra tiptoed back after shutting her door.
"Hurry up!" she said. "Mom's in the kitchen. What makes you think such a crazy thing?"
"Got you, didn't I?" the younger girl laughed. "He'll beat his meat tonight, all right! Say, how does a guy's, uh, you know, his cock, how does it taste?"
"Wait a minute," Sandra protested. "I didn't say I knew. If you got that idea, you were wrong." Her voice was wistful. "In some ways, maybe I wish I did know. Wow! Would that ever be heavy! Sucking a guy off! But I'm not sure I'd want him to shoot that stuff in my mouth. The jism, you know."
"I know," Rocky said. "Man! I think I know what it tastes like. I think it tastes just about the same as my pussy. Or yours. Hey, your mom still in the kitchen?"
"I'd hear her if she picked up the phone," Sandra bleated. "What are you saying? And why are you saying it? I think you must be out of your skull!"
"Listen, Sandy. When I got home, the door was locked. Mom never locks it except at night. And she and Jeff were in there alone!" Her young voice was high and scratchy.
"Means nothing," Sandy said. "If you left a pussy on the coffee table, and Jeff came by and saw it, and nobody was home, he'd be too timid to touch it!" She laughed at her imagine.
"Listen!" Rocky exclaimed. "Just as he left, I kissed my mom. And it tasted like pussy on her mouth. Smelled like it, too! So-if a boy's cock tastes like pussy, I figure, well, you know what I figure, don't you?" Her voice was suddenly plaintive and shaky, like a small girl's.
"You're ashamed to say it," Sandy answered practically. "You think your mom was sucking my brother's cock."
There was a long silence, marked by some heavy breathing.
At last, Sandy spoke, but very guardedly. "That's too much," she said. "But if it's true, wow! What I mean, we can make that ol' brother of mine do anything we say!"
A door banged at the front of the house, and Sandra said: "Hey, I think Jeff's home. I'm going to play it cool. Maybe by tomorrow I'll have something to tell you."
She heard her brother's voice raised in excitement, and went out of her room into the kitchen. He was speaking rapidly.
"So now," he said, after a brief and friendly glance at his sister, "I've got everybody in that
Building Number Eleven, in Nimitz Park. I've got eighty-three subscribers, altogether, and over fifty of them are right together."
"Who'd you get today?" his sister asked.
"Little Rocky Meredith's mom," the boy laughed. "You know, she told me last time she was here, she'd do it. I thought she was kidding."
Sandy looked at him with affection and speculation. She wanted, in the worst kind of way, to take Rocky's news at face value. Her big brother, only fifteen years old, getting it on with Mrs. Meredith! Fantastic! And she wondered what Rocky meant and, indeed, what she herself meant, by the phrase. "Getting it on." Did it mean just preparing? Or doing the thing itself? Fucking. Sticking his pecker into Mrs. Meredith. It was too much.
Just looking at him, thinking of how boyish he looked and acted, it was hard to believe. But he was good looking. And she had spied on him in breathless delight once or twice, when he was whacking off. Fucking his fist. Jerking himself off. Her breath caught in her throat and she made an odd sound.
"What's with you?" her mother asked. "Aren't you pleased that your brother's doing so well? Eighty-three customers at four dollars a month, very nice! At a dollar-fifty a month profit, how much does that make, Jeff?"
But Sandy, her juvenile twat working hotly, spilling her girlish flow of cunt ooze down her thighs, left the two of them with their figuring. At the door she stopped and looked back. "I'm going to take a bath, Mom," she said. "If I've got time before dinner. I need a good soak."
She watched Jeff trying to keep his eyes on the paper with the figures on it, and saw his gaze come slowly up to focus on her breasts, then down to where her rounded little belly defined itself under her thin dress. It was working!
She went swiftly into her bedroom, then into the connecting bath. She made sure that the door to Jeff's room wasn't latched. She made sure of something else, too.
There was a shelf that held her scant and somewhat childish stock of cosmetics, along with bubble bath, shampoo, cotton balls, and other miscellany. She moved them carefully, uncovering a dark strip. A slit in the wall. She had found it accidentally, months ago. No use looking through it into Jeff's room. It was hidden by a picture. But she knew that when the picture was removed, her brother had a clear view of what went on. "He can even watch me piss!" she had said to Rocky, both of them wide-eyed.
"Wow! Far out!" the little blonde had shivered at the very idea. "Watches you piss!" And then, doubtfully. "That doesn't exactly turn me on."
Sandy laughed indulgently. "Of course not, silly. You've been in the bathroom with me a hundred times. But how would you like to watch him piss?"
The tiny blonde pressed her thighs together, feeling a very grown-up itch deep in her juvenile pussy. "I don't think I could stand it," she gasped. "I see what you mean, though. You figure that he feels that way, watching you! Ooooohhh!" she choked out. "Let's go in the linen room and finger-fuck each other!"
Sandy remembered all this with a shiver. She had often felt the presence of eyes as she bathed herself. And once at night, when she had turned off the light in the bath, she had seen that wide line of dim light from Jeff's room. And then, thrill of thrills! She had put her own bright eyes to the peephole and had seen her beloved brother doing his thing. Even now, so much later, just the thought of that first discovery gave her an inner twist of orgasm.
When you're twelve years old, no matter how much hair you have on your twat, no matter how much weight and warmth and feeling you have in your titties, you're kind of limited to what you really know. Thoughtfully, she began to undress.
Nancy Stone didn't worry about Jeff. He said he had "just a little bit of a headache," and that he wanted to lie down. "Maybe even take a little nap."
"Go ahead, my dear," she said. "It's hours until dinner."
And here he was, his heart beating like a bongo drum, his latent hard-on warm against his thigh.
His head had been in a whirl all the way home. It was so unbelievable! He had never seen a cunt at close range. He had seen his mother's, by one accident or another, many times. And after he had become aware of Sandy's development, he had made his own means of observing her. Although he had had a very bad feeling about it. It wasn't befitting a Boy Scout. To spy on your sister and jerk off.
But now, all of that was changed.
Maybe he wouldn't even go for the stupid Eagle
Scout rating. Part of the Boy Scout Oath was "to keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight." Jee-zuss! If he was going to be sticking his hand into ladies' cunts, and having ladies put his dong in their mouths, why shit! How the hell could he go on with that kid stuff? If he fucked a lot, it might affect his mind. He'd heard that too much of it would sap your strength. And if you kept on wanting to fuck your sister, just as you did other girls and women, well, that blew the "morally straight" bit, didn't it?
God, he could still taste that cunt flavor on his fingers. And it was like it had been so thick, when he practically had his nose in Mrs. Meredith's crotch that just the smell had caught in his nose. Riding home on his bike had seemed impossible. His cock had been so hard he couldn't straighten up. A couple of times, he had almost given up and gone into a service station washroom to beat the juice out of his meat. But the thought of combining two lusts, two separate fires of passion for two separate females, had sustained him.
He was very quiet, going into his room. And extra quiet when he bolted his bedroom door. Not that he was still convinced it was so disgraceful to bring that jism up and out in a hard, wonderful explosion. God, that felt good! That book by old Whatshisname-who was it? Doctor Reuben? Yeah-said that all the bullshit about jerking off was just that. Bullshit. Even old guys did it, and it was good for them.
But he sure as hell didn't want mom to come in and catch him peeping at his beautiful little sister's beautiful little body and all its lovely parts.
He deftly removed the picture which hid his peephole. Good! Sandy had all the lights on! He hoped she would be as slow and careful as she had been the last month or so. Wow! What a show she put on!
He was as silent as a ghost as he undressed, all the way.
His cock was hard, or almost. It hadn't been any other way for hours. He looked in his dresser drawer for Vaseline. There was a jar of cold cream. The same kind Sandy used. He loved it because it smelled like her. With cold cream, he could prolong a fist-fuck longer than with spit or Vaseline or anything. But when he rolled the foreskin back, there was a delicious scent. He had smelled it before and never dug it too much, but now it had a difference. He had smelled Mrs. Meredith's pussy, and it was very much the same. Rank, like between your toes. A good sort of sour smell, like dad's favorite cheese. What was it? Liederkranz? Yeah. And that ripe cheese tasted like it smelled. From now on, he was going to eat it all the time.
He touched his finger to the slick, hot part of his cock just below the flaring red head. It was kind of wet. He smelled it and tasted it. He had been so right! It was almost exactly like the smell and taste of Mrs. Meredith's cunt.
He groaned with pleasure and softly stepped over to the slit in the wall. He would leave his cock just the way it was. No cold cream, no Vaseline, not even any spit. He put his face to the wall, and had to hold on to himself to keep silent.
Sandra Stone knew she had a pretty good body for a kid her age. What she didn't know was that it would have been spectacular at any age. But she did know that she loved it. And, in spite of the fact that she openly put her brother down, she adored him. And he loved her body, too, which made her ecstatic.
With senses honed razor keen by plan and anticipation, she had heard him enter his room. She knew he would undress. When he watched her and jerked off, he had been naked. At least the times she had seen him. So she timed it, and even heard the very slight scratching sound as the picture came down off the wall.
She had been waiting for this. She had on her bra and panties. The bra was something she'd just put on. She knew, somehow, that men like to watch a woman get herself naked.
As she took the brassiere off, and it was a slow process, she deliberately felt first one breast, then the other. It gave her a marvelous feeling, but she wished in her heart that it might be a boy who was caressing those sensitive globes. The nipples turned very dark as they rose and hardened, and she pretended to examine it carefully, holding it to the light. By making an effort, bending her neck until her back hurt, and pushing up on her full, firm young tit until it hurt, she got the nipple in her mouth. Not really enough to do any good, but she was almost certain that she heard a gasp, and a slow, barely audible sound as if Jeff had shifted his body.
She turned her body around and looked in the mirror, smiling at her reflection. If Jeff guesses I'm smiling for him, she thought, I'll be glad. This exhibitionism was getting her pussy hot, getting her hot all over. Having no other specific boy in mind, she identified with the near one. Her brother.
She put her foot up on the rim of the tub. She turned away. She was close to the slit in the wall, so she knew that Jeff would be conscious of the dark triangle of her pubic hair, and of the streaming, crawling lips in the red-veined slit under it. When she had shown herself in this position as well as she could, she turned her back, rolled her panties down, and let him have a good look at her bottom before she turned back facing him. She was sure, now, that she heard a noise like hard breathing, but more like a low musical tone. He's moaning, she thought happily. He's out of his mind!
And then, to aid her brother escape from whatever reality was plaguing him, she held her thick, soft, juicy cunt lips open and turned directly at the slit in the wall.
Girls quite often make a peculiar error. On dates with some guy they don't completely dig, they will permit the poor fellow a number of liberties with the rather mean notion of getting him so hot he has steam shooting out of his drawers. And, of course, with no idea of working the juice out of his balls by any method. Hand job, blow-job, or an old-fashioned fuck.
But they forget one thing. What they do, or permit being done, to overheat their intended victim very often overheats them, too. Thus, having helped the miserable dupe to create an intensely nerve-taut hard-on, they find themselves unable to resist guiding it into their sweet and tender cunts. To the intense wonder and delight of the man who hardly dared ask the girl to go out with him. And who certainly never dreamed that she would so avidly push her pretty little loins, her open and juice-spilling pussy, her yearningly pouting cunt lips up to his dirty old cock. It is this strange error, or rather its culmination, which leads girls to hate themselves.
Not that Sandra Stone felt she was being mean. Nor that she wanted to be nasty or selfish or thoughtless. She did, in honest fact, love Jeff. But she was so heated, so curious about her girl friend's odd story that she wanted to see how quickly she ' could force-or, at least, help-her brother to the point of jerking his cock to a spurting, throbbing orgasm.
But her own heat betrayed her.
As she fingered her lovely, juicy young cunt with such loving care and precision, she visualized her brother's cock. She had seen it as he whacked himself off. It was a lovely, heart-touching, cunt-tingling, mouth-watering sight.
She saw her sweet young pussy in the mirror. With all the lights on, and so many mirrors, every blood-filled vein in every achingly happy convolution of her inner lips was plainly visible. And lusciously sweet. If she had been a contortionist, she would have plastered her young mouth between those fat and hairy cushions and sucked herself into a fury of sexual delight.
And her throbbing little clitty-button, leaping and jerking frantically against its paper-thin covering of membrane, she would have--OH, GOD! her mind cried. OH, GOD!
She was hardly aware that she was sinking to the floor. The thick rug caressed her firm, sleek young buttocks, and the soft fibers tickled her writhing cunt lips into a gorgeously wild nightmare of sensuality, a cum that rolled out of her convulsing vagina as her plunging fingers tried to reach clear in to her belly, clear up to the dark, hard-muscled womb, to drag the orgasm out.
In the brightly lit bedroom where young Jeff was trying to control the grip of his hand and the length of his stroke, the sight was almost too much. He had wiped his reeking fingers on his lips when he first had left the Meredith apartment. He had renewed it by tasting and smelling the residues of his own flesh, fresh from under his pinkly wrinkled, swollen foreskin.
When lovely little Sandra had rolled her chaste panties down, he had nearly gagged as he pictured himself kissing between those softly muscled ass-cheeks. He saw the protruding lips of her cunt, saw them as plain as day, and they seemed to be making a kissing motion at him. He let go of his cock, afraid he would shoot his load in barren and unreasoned fuck-itch against a cold plastered wall.
He had not realized that women were made that way-as easy to get a cock into from the rear as from the front. He had, in his lower dresser drawer, a number of the most brilliantly colored magazines portraying the most explicit acts of sex. In an odd way, he was much more sophisticated than his sister. His shyness came from natural causes, of a sort which re-emphasize the fact that the male ego is directly connected to cock and balls.
The fear of failure, i.e., of not fucking well, whatever that might mean. The fear of being refused, which even the most innocent boy intuits will be traumatic. And last and most painful of all, the fear of being laughed at
But, as far as knowing what's happening, and all the time in every block and almost every home in America, he knew far more than Sandra. Or, naturally, than little Raquel Meredith. But in one important avenue, he knew less, a great deal less. For he did not have the faintest idea that girls had the same fuck lust as boys, an even deeper desire to prove their maturity by getting their little pink fuck holes opened by a hard-thrusting cock.
He did not even know that girls could really cum, even if not in the exact way boys did. His own cock was so hard, so near to bursting, that he was transfixed, standing rigidly to forestall the wrenching beauty of an orgasm gained too quickly. He saw his sister, in all her full-fashioned beauty of swollen tit and shapely, satiny ass, of pinkly dripping cunt lips thrusting out between the hairy softness of her young pussy, fall to the floor. In what seemed to him to be a fit, for he had no idea that an orgasm could so shake a female. Knowing only the austere sharpness of a jerk-off, the truth escaped him.
What saved him from a premature ejaculation that would have put enough paste on his bedroom wall to support new wallpaper was the panic that his sister might be endangered. He forgot his nakedness, the sweated warmth around his balls, the taboo against "older kids" sharing each other's ultimate privacy of warm ass and warmer crotch. He loved Sandra, and her face had been locked in a grimace of pain as she sank below the rim of the bathtub.
In the whirling, steam-hot fog of the most terrific cum she had yet known, an adult reaction in her Junior Miss vagina and all her cuntal area, Sandra became gratefully aware of the saving presence of her brother.
She was cumming, as she later confided to Rocky, all over. She was raising and lowering her beautiful young legs, feeling that, somehow, this would pump the unbearably lovely sensation out of her hard-spasming cunt. She was in a delirium of very high fuck-fever, and a naked brother, kneeling by her trembling, wildly aching breasts was only a sweeter part of her dream of lust. And his fantastically large, hard, red-tipped cock was simply the lovely little prize in this hot-fleshed carton of sexual Crackerjack.
As in a dream, she caressed it, her passion-glazed eyes not even looking at his strained, frightened young face. And then, as if her young body knew far more about fulfillment than her untutored mind, she pulled the boyish prick at her wetly shining mouth, where her pink tongue coiled in anticipation.
In his own cataleptic shock, with the raging load in his young balls sidetracked and short-circuited by a fantasy suddenly come to life, Jeff felt that every nerve in his body was more alive than ever before. He smelled cunt, he saw cunt. He also saw the blue-veined softness of his sister's tits and belly, the lush and aphrodisiac plenitude of her cunt hair.
As her legs flew up in her abandon to the explosion of orgasm in her cunt, her ass and thighs looked twice as large. And the young pussy, stretched to its utmost limits, looked a foot long, with its vaginal portal of bubbly pink flesh and membrane seeming to move in a mute plea for love.
When he had creamed his jeans at Mrs. Meredith's, it had been wonderful, since it was so far removed, esthetically, from the hard and lonely release attained by the rough clasp of Mrs. Thumb and her four daughters. Now, in a half-realized wet dream, he had it all-a lovely, nubile female with all of it laid out for him, a warm mouth sucking his cock with closed-eyed and fuck-happy desperation, an open cunt to penetrate, a lovely ass to dig into.
The force of his starting orgasm seemed to wrack his entire reproductive system. It hurt far back of his balls, deep inside in the dark and gluey mysteries around his rectum. The shaking beauty of it drew his hand to his young sister's very mature cunt, and he got his long middle finger into it as her legs swept up.
She was still in the gut-twisting fervor of an enormously adult orgasm, and his finger, the taste of his cock, its soft but aggressive crowding in her mouth and throat, all acted to create a series of reruns up and down her cuntal programming. Even if she were, in a sense, removed to another world, she was conscious of every detail, even to the curling hairs that tickled her nose as she flung herself on this spurting cock in her face. Her brother's deeply prodding finger seemed as big as her dreamed-up visions of a male cock, although her common sense told her that the plunging meat she was gargling was far larger.
Some deep instinct kept her holding the boy's cock as she sucked it into her throat, wrapped her tongue around it with such warm, spit-slick muscularity. With a fierce, age-old joy, she now knew the taste of the sweated male penis and the hot jets of the richly slick, utterly wholesome seed which she was swallowing, tasting, deeply enjoying. And, she realized, this large organ which so boldly pumped her sibling's protein-rich and delicious load of semen into her, served another purpose. Without it, she would have been unabashedly shrieking out her girlish joy at this weird, wild, beautiful experience.
Her lovely young body was slick with sweat as the mighty storm of orgasm passed. She did not open her eyes. She was too afraid that she had embarrassed her brother, or that she had reacted in a crude and ignorantly childish way. She could not know that, just as she was, with her brother's sperm in stray drops at the corners of her mouth, with her young tits swollen almost to lovely bursting from her sex detonations, with her deliciously girlish twat gone wetly slack in reflex pleasure, she was the most beautiful sight that Jeff would ever see.
He was jelly-legged with fear, with post-coital shock, with the frantic conscience of the sated rapist.
As best he could, he moved to escape. But Sandra held his cock, shaking her head. There was a beatific smile on her face. She did not open her eyes, but somehow she saw in her mind what was wounding her brother.
"I won't look," she whispered. "I don't know what happened. Is anyone else in here with me? Of course not! This is all just a dream. I'll let go of my dream-peter, and my lovely dream will float away. But first, since I'm dreaming of someone I love, is it all right to kiss a dream?"
She moved the hand on Jeff's wilting prick, a finger testing the thick coating of delicious fuck-slime on all its length. She let her fingers stray in a warm exploration to his balls, and sucked in an amazed breath at their size in his hairless sac.
"So kiss me," she whispered, and the boy, remembering the hot pleasure in the tonguing kiss he had often heard of but never experienced until today, leaned down, his skinny butt high in the air.
But his young sister, still trembling from the unaccustomed shock of such a soul-shaking orgasm, whispered: "No! Get down by me. On me!" and tugged at him so that he lay down, his face just above hers, his warm, boyish chest smashing her right tit into a jellied flatness of ecstatic pain.
His tongue went into her sweet-breathed mouth. She was a fraction of a second behind him, and he knew, with a deep pride that he was being the teacher, that her knowledge of such hot kissing was theory rather than experience. In his peripheral vision, he saw the slow rise and fall of her gorgeously adult breast, hard-nippled, heat-swollen, and he brought his right hand up to squeeze it in a lovingly cruel grip.
Then, as his cock throbbed once again, and the cunt vapors swirled up to crowd his nostrils and set his saliva to flowing, he pulled away. He wanted more. He wanted to kiss her snatch, to tongue into her flowing cunt as he had tongued into her wet, slick young mouth, but he still held the inner coldness of tribal fear. He had transgressed. He had fucked his sister. Well, not exactly fucked her. But he sure as hell had squirted his cum into her.
She was still smiling, with closed eyes, as he left.
CHAPTER THREE
It was a couple of hours after dinner that Jeff, sorting out various papers, money, and change in his pockets, discovered that Mrs. Meredith had not signed his check.
At first he was annoyed. "I'll have to go by there again," he muttered crossly to himself. And suddenly, like in a cartoon strip where a light bulb glows in a balloon above some turned-on character's head, an idea warmed his mind. She did it on purpose, his mind said, unbelieving. She wants me. She wants to do that again.
He had recovered from his inner storm. His mother, startling him by saying his nap hadn't done him any good, that he looked positively haggard, had finally gotten off his back. And Sandra, on her way next door to study with a friend, had stooped swiftly to leave a wet little kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry," she had whispered. "Nothing happened! Nothing at all!" And she had made a furtive stab with one hand into the region of his lap, feeling for the cock she now knew so much about.
He was learning a lesson which would not solidify for a good many years: That conscience and its fears are ninety percent of the dread of being found out. Once that shadowy anguish is ameliorated, the main stab of conscience is that conscience itself is so infirm.
He was not much of a mixer. He was known as "a good kid," which was faint praise. It meant that he had no really close friend. No one disliked him. But no one sought him out. Which was dreadful, for he had no one to share his feelings with. Or to swap experiences with.
He got a bit of a hard-on, and wished it were feasible to go to Mrs. Meredith's right then. Boy, he'd like to walk in and take it out and wave it in her face! Wow! But it was late.
He turned in early, and fondly stroked his young cock up to a peak of throbbing expectancy, but when he thought of the steamy sweetness of his sister's young body, the warm resilience of her breast, the flooded depths of her hot little cunt, he almost wished he hadn't even started to jerk off.
"Some day I'll stick it in her cunt," he muttered gaily. "And I'll fuck her and fuck her and fuck her!"
He remembered, as if it truly were in a dream as Sandra had postulated, the delicate feel of her soft fingers stroking his balls, pressing near his ass-hole. And he remembered the sight and feel and scent of her delightful little cunt. "As much hair on it as mom's," he said aloud. "Maybe as much as Mrs. Meredith."
He had had almost a handful of Sandra's cunt drippings when he had crept back into his room, and he had carefully scraped the slick, clear liquid into a little dish. It had almost dried away, but there was a gelid lump to lick up. And, as the combination of all the real, the remembered, and the hoped-for came together in his mind, his cock grew in his hand, the hard, lovely pain swelled the red head as the jism shot up and out, and he stroked hard, pumping it all out, wishing it were all going into the prick-hungry mouth of his sucking little sister, or into the bigger, hotter, more voracious chops of Mrs. Meredith.
He wiped up the traces of his expended semen. He grinned, thinking how many times his mother must have found little spots around. Or dried puddles from his frequent wet dreams. Perversely, with more daring than might have been expected, he had wanted his mother to question him about them. So he could question her. And he grinned at his former naivete, when he had seriously wondered if a "nice woman" like his mother would know about such things as wet dreams. Or even about semen.
As he got into his pajamas, remembering the incredible warmth and slickness of the two mouths that had held his cock all on this one day, he was wrenched by a shattering thought.
"They probably all do it," he muttered. He thought of "all" of them, including that little Raquel who thought she was so damn smart. And of wrinkled, kind, homely Miss Seeger, his sixth grade teacher whom he had loved, and against whose boobs he had buried his face once, in a moment of fear, when she had held him. And the good-looking black lady at the dry cleaning place. Would thick black lips feel better on his cock? Or the hot, slick lips of a black pussy, would they feel better?
And inevitably, as he had known he would, he faced a fact that was not easy. The fact of his sweet-faced mother, with her softly feminine mouth, sucking some guy's prick. It made him shudder. Even when he amended it to his father's prick. It's very hard, life is, he thought bitterly. And fell asleep.
It was not too much different for Sheri Meredith, some ways. She, too, wished that the paperboy would come over at once. But Rocky was at home, and it was bad precedent to chase a kid out on a school night.
She prepared them an excellent dinner, because she was a dedicated cook, and then told Rocky she could watch TV until ten if she did her homework.
She had put on a warm nightgown of sprigged cotton flannel, and that kid, Jeff, had left her a copy of today's paper. Brought it back from his bike, grinning at her. Little devil!
She had a couple of jolts of Southern Comfort. She liked a sweet drink after dinner, before bed, but most of that stuff was fifty or sixty proof. Good old Southern Comfort, with its hundred proof alcoholic content, had the authority of the very best bourbon. And still looked sort of, well, classy.
They had a freezer, one that Brooks had picked up for a few bucks from a Chef in the
Commissary. It was old-fashioned, and shook like a Ford fender when the motor was on. It had two other features which pleased Sheri. The sides, when they reached the top, curved over so that, at the corners, the wide rim of stainless steel was a softly beveled roundness. And the "heat exchange," as Brooksy called it, was carried out in pipes around the top, which made a warm, smooth corner, exactly the height of the top of Sheri's cuntal split. Smooth, warm, and it vibrated when the motor was on. And just exactly cunt-height. It had made life far move livable for Sheri Meredith, and it saved her sleep on this lovely night in early autumn.
The more she tried to read the paper, the more she thought of that sweet little kid with the big, rich-tasting cock. She thought of the thick, slick seed she had sucked out of his pants, and the lovely savor of what had been left to cool on his dick. And every thought made her cunt ache deeper, her mouth drool more copiously.
This huge old element in Navy Housing where the Merediths lived was built when labor and materials were cheap. For a mere hundred and thirty-four bucks, they had more room than they needed. And down at the far end of it, in an unused bedroom, where old mattresses and bookcases and crates of stuff that Brooksy had picked up on various Far East stations were stored, there was the old freezer.
Sheri smiled mechanically at Rocky as she went down the hall, and her child, just as mechanically watching the fourth rerun of a monster movie, did not notice.
She was panting with stored-up fuck-heat as she unlocked the door to the storage bedroom, and was in too much of a hurry to lock it after her. She was pressing the flannel nightie into her plumply cushioned cuntal mound and almost groaning with desire and anticipation as she went quickly to the freezer.
There was still warmth in the corner where she would press the cleft of her sex. But the motor was not running. Cursing under her breath, Sheri flipped up the top lid and turned the temperature gauge to its highest. The motor chugged on at once, and she sighed in weakness and relief.
She edged up to the friendly machine with her thighs apart, and gratefully rubbed her expanded, nerve-tight clitoris on the smooth, warm corner. It was as good as a cock! Better, in many ways. It never failed her, for one thing. Even Brooksy couldn't always get it up. And the quiet sound of the motor, as it furnished that fantastically affectionate vibration against the top inch of her cunt, seemed very much like a husky, loving voice whispering: "Ooooh, baby! I love your pussy!"
She began to orgasm within five seconds after she pressed the raw and hungry nerves of her slit against the smooth, warm, gently tingling corner. Now that she was in exactly the right spot, she braced her hands on the rounded rim of .the old box and gently moved her sex-shaken crotch over it. If she worked it right, She could keep on cumming and cumming for a long time. Over and over and over. Some day, by God, she'd warm a big sausage-maybe one of those small, hard salamis from the deli-in hot water and try this route with the hard sausage stuck in her twat. She could stick it deep in her, and grind it with her cunt muscles as the freezer's warm vibrations fired the cum-gun that centered around her clit.
She felt her vaginal fluids trickling out of her puffed-out cunt lips and smearing down her thighs. She shut her eyes, loving the deep sensation in her guts, almost a sickening pain, but so damned wild, cock-biting lovely. She could hear herself saying: "Oh, fuck me, lover! Fuck that big old thing deep into my cunt! Bust me open, big boy! Fuck me hard!"
Usually she ended each such sentence with a name. Brooksy. But not now. And she knew why. She was thinking about that kid and the rank sweetness of his darling little old peter. Not that it was all that little. "OOOH!" she groaned. "Oh, blessed Jesus!" It was almost a scream, and she ground her spasming clit against the hot metal that felt so smooth through the flannelette.
She moved back but stood still for long minutes, letting her legs get their strength back, arms still holding her braced.
She let out a sigh that was almost a grunt, lifted the lid of the old appliance, and turned the temperature regulator far down. Immediately, the motor stopped as though it, too, had had all the sex, all the love, all the orgasms that it could stand.
The draining of her sexual tensions, the good meal, and the gentle glow of the high-powered liqueur gave Sheri the best sleep she had had in a month. She awoke rested, happy, looking forward to the day.
With Rocky in school for the day, she decided she would clean the big apartment. She had to figure some way to get her daughter out of the way during the afternoon, since that boy, that lovely boy with the man-sized cock, would surely come by to get her signature on the check. The thought gave her a warm, squirmy feeling in her pussy, and the sense of leaking cum juice. She had a wad of Kleenex in her robe, and spread her legs and reached between her legs to sop up the flow. The friction of the tissue on her open cunt lips gave her a dry shiver of pleasure. She wished the damned clock would hurry around to three o'clock.
She was not surprised when the doorbell buzzed, but she almost fainted in happy surprise when she opened the door and saw young Jeff Stone.
"I can't believe it!" she gasped, but she fairly reached out to pull him inside. "Why aren't you in school?" she demanded.
"Well, uh, you see," he stammered. "It's Thursday. We're on staggered schedules at Point High. My first period's over, and I don't have another until after lunch. So I'm doing a little work on my route." He flushed and looked away.
It was clear to Sheri that something was wrong. Just being fifteen was a tough thing, sometimes. But with her mother heart, she knew where to start. She pulled him into the bedroom and sat down, holding him between her thighs, hugging him with her face on his lean young belly.
"You wanted to come here, but you were afraid," she whispered. "Isn't that so?"
He did not answer, but placed his hand on her head. She nuzzled her face against his body, and had a sniff of his boyish crotch fragrance. What could he be afraid of? And she remembered some of the many things Brooksy had told her. About himself. About all boys. Afraid of authority. Of grown-ups.
She h id not been free of cunt heat for a minute since she had woke up. She wanted to comfort the boy, but she wanted the boy's prick to comfort her, even more. She made up her mind.
Without looking up at him, without saying another word, she began to loosen his belt, to run his zipper down, and then to pull his slacks and shorts down in one motion. If he was, in fact, afraid of grown-up authority, she was safe. In any case, so great was her need that she had to see his cock, to feel it, to gobble it into the red, hungry throat that was swilling her saliva as it poured out.
When she felt his cock in her hand, when she smelled the rank incense that rose, invisibly, from his crotch, she felt a rush of confidence. The young cock was not only fat and rosy, it was also very obviously getting bigger.
She simply opened her mouth and sucked it in, and loosened her grip around his body so that he could fuck it into her as he had yesterday.
She was dressed in her costume for cleaning house, a pair of stretch-denim shorts, white nylon briefs, an old shirt of Brooksy's, and sneakers. As she held the base of his cock with one hand, softly sucking him up, moving her head back and forth lightly, she unfastened the shirt buttons. It was only then that she let the hardening peter slip out of her mouth to look up at the boy.
He was smiling, but still unsure of himself.
"Don't you like this, Jeff?" she asked, shaking his cock gently, licking her lips to keep them slick. "Do you want to feel my boobs?" And she squeezed one big tit out in a cone.
"Oh, yesss!" he cried, and then: "Are you sure it's okay, Mrs. Meredith? Is it really all right if I do things like that? With you, I mean?"
She got up swiftly and shucked herself out of the tight-fitting shorts and out of her underwear. "Let's get that shirt off of you," she said, and helped him as he wriggled out of it.
"We've got all the time in the world," she said, as levelly as she could manage, considering her sudden burst of sex fire. "Raquel won't be home until nearly three. My door's locked. No one can get in. I want this," she said, smilingly squeezing his cock. "Does that answer your questions?"
She dropped on her knees, taking his cock again and holding it up to her lips. She looked up at him. "How many times can you cum in five hours?" she asked. "Or do you really know?"
The boy began to laugh and to thrust his skinny loins at her face, so that all she had to do was to open her lips. The young cock still had the rankly appetizing flavors as it had on the day before, and as she sucked the softness-plus-hardness of loose outer skin and trembling inner muscle, she felt a quiver of impatient hunger in her pussy, away up inside, wrinkling the folds of her vagina, running a wild itch down between her sensitized cunt lips.
It changed her plans.
With a sharp burst of activity, she arose and fell on the bed, dragging Jeff with her. "I've got to know how that lovely cock of yours feels inside me," she gasped. "In my cunt! Here! Get between my legs! Did you ever fuck a girl-a woman? Really fuck one?" Her voice was hoarse, her heart beating a wild tattoo.
He was between her strong, beautiful thighs, really looking right into a mature cunt for the first time. He licked his lips and held his cock in one hand. "No, ma'am," he said in a whisper. "I never did, but I will. Can I get it in down there?" And he rubbed his other hand up and down her split, in the juice-pouring inner labia.
"Let me have it," she crooned. "Put your hands up by my ribs. Lower your body." She was faint with excitement. She could feel the gush of her cum-fluids, and she wiped the boy's prick up and down between the lips. Not to get it lubricated. There was enough cunt oil there to slick the entrance for an elephant cock. Just for the deep, gut-churning feel of hard, hot meat.
She pushed the throbbing tool down to where its head hit the tight aperture to her body. "Now," she whispered. "Push. Easy. OH, BABY!" In spite of herself, she pumped her ass up and down, her cunt swallowing his cock between its hairy lips as she pumped up, releasing the cum-slicked young peter as she went down.
It was glorious. "It feels so big!" she whispered. "Am I tight enough for you? Does it feel good to you?" For his pleasure and surprise, she worked her trained cunt muscles on him.
He shivered in her embrace, his head to one side as his cheek pressed the upper part of her tingling breast.
"Wow!" he whispered. "It's so good I can't stand it! It's tighter than-I'll bet it's the tightest anywhere." His small ass moved tentatively from side to side, and she felt the warm, slippery wipe of his cock on the juicing sides of her pussy. He was pressed against her, too, mound to mound, and she felt the pressure through the thick lips which covered her clitoris. He didn't know it, but it was a wonderful feel for a woman to get.
She made her inner muscles move very softly, and when he groaned: "OOoooohhh!" she whispered: "It's your great big cock that makes me do that!"
He raised his head to look at her, vastly pleased. "Do you mean that?" he asked. His interest in himself made him forget the treacherously begging urge in his cock-nerves, and he very proudly, like a real little man, fucked in and out of her. A natural, genuinely male reaction.
His cock touched the hard slickness of her cervix, and she moaned with a deep pleasure. "I don't want you to cum until you want to," she said. "Are you all right now? When you stuff that big old peter of yours into me, does it feel like you're about to shoot it?" A flicker of muscle-kiss in her twat made him jump.
"Naw," he said. "I think I'm okay. Gosh, Mrs. Meredith, why don't we-why don't I-just go ahead and cum? OOOOHHHH! Jesus!" He lay his head down. "I know I shouldn't swear," he said contritely.
She hugged him firmly, and reached around and over his slim buttocks to where his boyishly hairless balls clung to his pole. She kissed him on the cheek, laughing softly. "You can say and do anything to me that you want to, Jeff," she said.
"Anything. I want us to be-well, comfortable with each other. Can you think of any words you might be afraid to say to other people? What are they? Cunt, cock, fuck, prick, ass-hole, balls? You can say them to me!"
She kissed his cheek again. "These are your balls," she whispered, caressing his drawn up testicles. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have them in my mouth. I'm going to suck on them, and run my tongue over them. Ohhhh! Boy, you really speared that cock into me! I'm so full of fuck-juice that I'm getting it on your balls!"
He now put his arms around her, under her back. He was very strong for such a skinny little boy. Her breasts were getting the loveliest sensation, being warmly smashed by his chest. And oh, Jesus! How he was slamming his young cock into her!
She realized that she was automatically fucking back at him, with as much gusto and freedom as she did with her husband. That was odd. She'd not done that with any other man.
"Oh, baby!" she moaned in his ear. "That feels so good! You're fucking me so good, so deep!" She was letting her body go, letting it follow the demands that came from her redly swallowing cunt rather than from her mind. "Ohhhh, Ohhhh, Ohhhhh!" she groaned in deep happiness and content. "OHHHH! FUCK ME HARD, OH, MY DEAR! FUCK ME HARD!"
She had both hands around his small, hard buttocks, pulling him into her, using her strength to smash him down on her mound, to make sure that every teeny bit of his hot, hard cock got in, in as deep as it would go. She knew she was cumming, could feel it start somewhere around her clit, heard the feeling echo deep in her guts. But time was magically stretched. This moment would last and last. It would be a long time before the flaming need burst inside of her and flowed out of her grasping, flowing cunt.
She was conscious of every tiny fraction of her body. And of the boy's. It was crazy to think so, but she could feel his sweat where it met hers, between her breasts.
"Can you reach my boobs with your mouth, doll?" she asked hungrily, continuing to fuck with the grace and abandon of a woman happy in sex. "Can you get my old tit and suck it?" And she let go of one hand to push her aching breast up to where his mouth was panting, but he reached it. He was lost in heat, just as she was, but the arching back, the strained neck could not keep him from exerting a gorgeously painful suction on her swollen nipple, so that long-unused milk ducts in the softly living tit-flesh seemed to creak and break open. A lightning thrill of pain and heat, a long flash, a long throb, and then he was screaming: "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! HELP ME! HELP ME! OH, I'M CUMMING!" And she could feel the hot, wet, sticky squirts of his jism, so powerful that they seemed to distend her vagina.
She could no more have stopped fucking than he could, and she was ripe for a torturously beautiful orgasm, her inner body feeling blown entirely out of shape with the cum-pressure. But she hung on, wanting to feel his long, hard-throbbing gusts of semen flowing so warmly in her already overflowing cunt. She seemed to feel each separate hair on her belly, around her ass-hole, and the insides of her thighs glowed with the heat from his exhausted young body.
He was still blindly plunging his cock into her, and the friction on its painfully sensitized head must have been terrible, Sheri knew. She cried: "No, Jeff! Stop! Let me cum! OH! OH, MY GOD! AARRGGHH! AAARRRGGGHHHHHH!" It was marvelous. She could not entirely control her body, but her vagina was now so relaxed from her orgasm, and so super-slick with his semen and the rich juice from her cunt that his cock would not feel rasped or over-used.
They lay in each other's arms, and Sheri was amused to realize that she was panting as hard as if she had been cuntally plowed by her beloved Brooks. Why not? she thought. The little devil gave me as good a fuck as Brooks.
She patted him along his back and eased him off. Right now was when he would need a bridge to get from this instinctive act, back to the usual inanity of human communication. He had rolled on his back, covering his eyes with one hand, and she rolled to him, kissing him gently on the mouth. "You were so nice, Jeff," she whispered. "You did it so good! I can't believe you never did it with a woman before."
In a manly voice, he said, after a gulping try failed: "You were good, too, Mrs. Meredith."
She rubbed all over his crotch, his dick smeared with the sweet slime from her cunt, his young balls now lying slack in his scrotum. "After we have a Coke or something hot, I'm going to suck this, like
I was doing yesterday. Before that silly kid of mine interrupted us."
His body jerked, and he said, in a worried tone: "Hey, it must be sort of late!"
She kissed him again, laughing. "I told you, Rocky won't get home until three. Or almost three. And it isn't even eleven, yet. But of course, if you don't think you can cum again in that time, we can forget it." She squeezed his young penis, thinking how delightful it was going to taste.
He sat up and gave her a long look. "You really think it's not wrong to do this?" he asked.
"For you and me to fuck?" the woman answered, watching him flinch at the horny old Anglo-Saxon word, and then seeing something happen to his face. Courage. Acceptance. Something. "If you mean because of my husband," she answered simply, "no. Not at all. He's away seven months to a year. He's a strong, healthy man. I know he gets his fucking. A lot more than I do, you can bet on it. But I'm a strong, healthy woman, and I need it, too. Would you believe this? I don't do an awful lot of fooling around. It's not all that good, most of the time."
He looked strangely grown up, sitting with his head down, looking at the coverlet. He shook his head. "Whew!" he said. "I see something I never saw before. It's not just guys that get horny. Women do, too. How about girls?" He still didn't look up.
Sheri still had her hand on his cock. "A girl may not need it quite in the same way a boy does," she answered. "They don't have balls to swell up with jism until you feel like you'll pop. But it's a need with them, just the same. Only with them, it's worse, in a way. It's mental. They want to be able to think: 'I'm sexy. A boy wants my pussy. He wants to stick it in me.' "
The boy drew in a deep breath and blew it out so that it was a soundless exclamation. "Girls how old?" he asked.
Sheri pondered briefly. She felt a longing to really help this kid who obviously had no one else to talk to. "Do you know anything about how, well, when a girl, as they say, becomes a woman?" she asked. "Does your mother use, uh, well, does she have a box of Tampax in her bathroom? Do you know what they're for?"
He looked at her and grinned. "I've known about them all my life," he said. "In a sort of a way. I used to think she shoved them up her, up, uh, another place."
Sheri slapped at him good naturedly. "Be easy with me," she said. "Shoved it up her ass. Why not say it? Well, so you know about menstruation. Your sister uses them too."
"For a couple of years," he said. "So that's when they get to wanting it?"
"A girl might want it any time," Sheri said. She felt a deep, pleasant tickle of cock-need up inside, and stroked on the boy's sticky cock a little harder. "But she needs it when she grows little breasts, and gets hair on her little pussy. like I was telling you. To think she's wanted."
He thought for some time, and at last leaned back, braced on his arms, intently watching her pumping the soft skin up and down on his cock. At last he asked: "Rocky? How about her?"
Her cunt was now getting all its old fire back. The feel of this young boy's beautiful peter, the certain knowledge that she was going to suck it deep into her throat, was enough to make her ovaries swell as hotly as her cunt lips.
As if in a dream, she said: "What? Rocky? Oh, yeah." She laughed. "She won't be home until three." She remembered that she had not had a drink all day, and didn't want one. She rolled off the bed and went down the hall and into the kitchen.
She was back in a couple of minutes with two big glasses.
"I made us a thick shake," she said. "Is chocolate okay?"
They drank the rich, thick mixture, and Sheri thought: He doesn't know it, but there's a couple of eggs in this stuff. She knew that raw eggs do nothing for a man sexually, at least no more than a similar amount of nourishment, but she wanted this lovable young kid to strengthen himself.
When they got through, he looked at the clock, and she said: "Grab your clothes and come with me. I don't want you worrying."
"She wrote out a note: "ROCKY-GONE SHOPPING. HOME SOON. MOM" and taped it to the front door. "She's got her own key," she said. "That was a bolt I had on yesterday."
He followed her, his mouth watering at the sight of her firm ass, the wealth of hair hanging down from her cunt, and the beauty of her strong, shapely legs.
When she took him into the storage bedroom, the one with the freezer, he was tickled with the way she locked and bolted the door. Now, she said, "unless you really yell when you cum, a person in the next room couldn't hear us. So let's get it on."
They lay down on the spare mattress, and since it was warm on this sunny side of the apartment building, young Jeff said: "Hey, this feels good. I'm sorry I was nervous. Hey, can I look at this?" and he stroked his hands between the richly furred lips of her cunt.
"I told you," she said huskily, "that you can say or do anything you want to me. You want to look at my pussy, okay, look at it." She kissed him and lay on her back, spreading her thighs wide apart. "You want my legs up or down?" she asked.
He crowed like a baby, but she saw his cock, and it was anything but babyish. "Can you really raise them up?" he asked in a choking voice.
He moaned in pleasure as she threw her knees back, resting against her shoulders. It made her bottom go up, so that her cunt was pointing right at the ceiling, and she giggled, thinking of how it must look to a young kid. He leaned close, and she realized that he was inhaling the musky sweetness of her heated, well-fucked twat.
She almost screamed in joy as he put his finger deep into her flowing, squeezing warmth. In this position, her cervix was only a couple of inches from the entry, and his finger hit it solidly, rubbed around it, felt of the closed slit that opened once every full moon to rid her body of the unused blood and cellular shelter no longer needed for the vanished ovum.
"Finger-fuck me, Jeffie," she whispered. "Oh, baby, that feels good! Do you like it? Do you like to look at a pussy?"
He rasped: "It's too much! It's beautiful!" And then he made her heart leap with hot joy. "If you suck me, is it okay if I suck you?" he blurted. "I mean, it looks so great! And I've heard of guys, uh, eating pussy!"
She humped herself up at his face happily, feeling the creeping swirl of fuck muscles moved by inner pleasure. "Yes," she said softly. "Suck me, Jeffie!"
He was too gingerly with his mouth and tongue, so she tugged at his hair, laughing. "Come on, Jeff," she kidded. "If you've heard of it, you know it's called going down on a girl. So, go down, baby! There! That's it! Dive into it! Wow! OHHH! Suck harder, sweetie! Ohhh! Man! That's it!"
Any touch, at this point, had to hit a hot spot, she was so near to bursting with a pent-up cum. She moved her ass expertly, making sure to wipe her cunt against his face as he was moving down, and getting her bubbling, frothing fuck hole up to him if he pursed his lips to suck. And she let him go, because she was in no hurry to cum, and she wanted this slick, sweet adventuring in her open pussy to magnify and stiffen his young prick.
He gave one final lick, and it happened to go right up the vein-reddened trough of her inner labia, digging into the wild sensitivity of her clit. She clamped her thighs around his head convulsively as the rolling burst of cum-fire blossomed in her throbbing pussy. It was reactive, she could not help it, and she held him there as she screamed over and over: "OH, BABY! SUCK ME
OFF! GET IT, BABY! SUCK IT OUT OF ME!" and as the wave receded, letting her come back to earth, she rolled onto him, opening her twat over his face, and he, as much dazed by fuck-lust as she, kept licking and sucking at the raw and trembling clutch of cunt flesh and membrane.
"I never knew how many good things a guy could do with a woman," he gasped, but now he looked directly at her. "Any girl could do that, if she had tits, and hair on her pussy. And had that other thing. I forget. Men-something."
"Menstruation," Sheri whispered. "Listen, a girl could get fun out of that if she was only eight years old! Or eighty," she laughed, reaching out to him. "Did you like that? I'll bet that's something you never did before. Or thought of."
He giggled. "I never did it, but I thought of it. And I've seen pictures of guys doing it. Did I do it all right? I don't know just where all those things are. like your clit-Oh-ris," he said. "Did I hit it?"
She pulled at him. "You hit it. Now, look at your peter! Just got so big and swelled up that I don't know what to do about it!" Her breath was heavy and rapid.
He turned toward her, hunching his ass so that his beautiful cock, hard, red tipped, was punching into the softness of her breasts, up along the sweated smoothness between them, going toward her hungering mouth.
"You know what to do with it," he said. "Suck it!"
CHAPTER FOUR
There was a great and swelling feel of satisfied lust in her sensitive, appreciative pussy when she finally finished cleaning the apartment. There was a marvelous soreness in her throat, too. How that little devil had slammed his cock into her mouth, and what a pleasure it had been when he had screamed out his young fuck-madness as his milky seed had poured so richly into her mouth.
What a taste! What a perfectly unmatchable treat of delightful richness, the slickness of whipping cream, the high heat of a young boy's semen-charged balls.
She took a sponge and fondly mopped up a rather large smear of drying jism from the coverlet of her bed. She leaned down to sniff at it, and it, too, had the raunchy beauty of cunt and cock mingled in its heady perfume. It made her shiver, but she muttered, with a secret grin: "I ought to be able to get by until tomorrow. I've really been fucked!"
She remembered his questions about girls, and about women. How had the damned time gone so fast? "I wish I could spend ten weeks with you on a desert island, baby," she hummed. "Damn! What a song that'd make. Especially if the chorus told all the things I'd like to do with that kid's prick!"
He had promised to come back the next day. "Not for all this long," he had said, lying there with his cunt-wet lips shining, his playful fingers rummaging warmly in the folded sweetness of her sloppy-loving vagina. "But long enough for us to have a little of this good old stuff." And he had bent and kissed her solidly and suckingly between the puffed out lips of her tenderized cunt. "It's better than melted ice cream," he groaned.
But he came back sooner than either of them expected.
"I left my receipt book," he said, blushing. "This time, I really did leave it," and they found it together, down on their knees by the big bed.
They were there together, facing each other, when Rocky came in. They had not heard the click of the lock as the child came in. Perhaps Sheri had left the door open when she had, so surprisingly, found Jeff there.
Even so, it was lucky she had come in when she had. They had been kissing, deep, cum-flavored kisses that nearly wrenched the tongues from their mouths. And she had taken the boy's cock, which was fat and large in his slacks, and in another moment she would have been sucking it. It was embarrassing enough, anyhow.
"Oh, hi, there, dear," Sheri said, and she knew her voice didn't sound normal. "Jeff left his receipt book. We were looking for it." She realized that the truth sounded, even to her, like a completely contrived alibi. When she got to her feet, she was warm all over, and knew she was blushing.
She got the paperboy out of the apartment as quickly as she could, and with no conversation with Rocky. The young girl, her face a smug mask, said nothing.
In fact, she went about her usual after-school business as though nothing unusual had happened, tossing her books on her bed, going to the bathroom, and helping herself to a Coke. But in a few minutes, she said: "Listen, Mom, I promised I'd meet one of the kids down by the little store. Okay?"
With all of her body warm and tingling from the long session of sucking and fucking, Sheri relaxed. Her guts ached with pleasure. She had never expected such a thorough, hard-pounding fuck from a little kid.
She remembered his questions about girls needing or wanting to be fucked. And when she had said they did, his other question: "Girls how old?" It gave her a warm feeling, a response to a sucking motion she felt deep inside her, far up her cunt. God, how she had craved a cock when she was Rocky's age!
For just a fleeting second she wondered if this boy with the hard and manly prick had his eye on little Rocky. Certainly, he noticed things about his sister. And little Rocky and his sister were together a lot. It would be funny if she and her daughter, by some freakish quirk of the imagination, had their pussies throbbing and juicing for the same guy. Only it wouldn't, not really.
She was relaxed on her big bed. She was unaware of the smell of cunt. After all, she lived with it. And she was just feeling so good, so drowsy. Rocky was off some place, on her own affairs. Maybe a little nap would go good.
If she had looked out the window, she might have realized that Rocky, although certainly involved in her own affairs, was not where she had said she'd be. In the service yard, taking a short cut no more than ten feet from the bedroom window, Sandy Stone, her brow knitted, mouth pursed, was heading her way.
The dark young girl, so much more mature in breast and thigh and buttock than Raquel Meredith, went directly to an unmarked door down the hall from the Merediths'. She knocked, waited, knocked again. An excited, wet-lipped Rocky slipped a bolt and let her in.
The management of Nimitz Park is civilian. Employed by the Navy. Part of a large group who are buffers for the push-and-shove which exists wherever seniority and a rigid pecking order cause conflicts. But these people have their own emotional shelters. People like Sheri Meredith, whose husband had more, far more seniority than any other family man housed in the same building. Therefore, Sheri had certain rights. But she also had certain responsibilities. One of them was the linen room.
It is a big, open room, with deep shelves from floor to ceiling, and with pile after pile of simple, rugged, medium quality sheets, pillow cases, towels and other house linens. There is a schedule for when each apartment may take linens, but the schedule is flexible. A key hangs outside the door.
It's a sort of honor system, arranged by Sheri Meredith.
"I don't want to have to run to the linen room every time some kid wets the bed and his mama needs new sheets," she had told the administrative person who gave her the key. "I'll leave the key by the door. Who is going to steal Navy sheets?"
The administrative person, a Grade-14 clerk with twelve years of Civil Service time, quickly agreed. "Take it in with you at nights," he said. "And over weekends."
It had been a marvelous secret meeting place for Rocky and Sandy, ever since they first became friends. A place for perfect privacy, a place where they could do-and say-the most outrageously human things in complete safety from eavesdropping, accidental or planned.
The smaller girl, almost out of her mind with repressed excitement and a need to spill her news, hugged Sandra passionately. They kissed, a long, hard kiss "swapping spit" as they called it, since they enjoyed the raunchy sound of it. Their young tongues squirmed together until Rocky pulled away. She looked at her older chum questioningly.
"You've learned something new about French kissing," the blonde child declared. "Where'd you learn it? Who with?"
Sandra was noncommittal. "I don't know what you're talking about," she demurred. "What'd I do?" But she smiled. This was going to be great.
For answer, Rocky grabbed her again, forcing a kiss on her, digging between the older girl's lips with her pointed tongue until Sandy let herself go, rubbing her young body very hard against her friend. Her tongue was curled like a snake, wrapping around the smaller girl's. They were both panting.
"God, that's getting me hot!" Sandy gasped when they broke apart. "Wow! It's one thing to practice until we can get some boys to do it with us! But that's making my cunt itchy. I'm not going to be a Lesbian!"
Rocky continued to hold her friend, staring at her, their warm little bellies together. "You always say that," she said. "You just like to say 'cunt'. And anyhow, we can be bisexual without being Lesbians. Any fool knows that!"
In great good humor, the taller of the girls stroked her hands warmly down over and under the little blonde's pretty little ass. "Sure," she jibed, "any fool who has a friend who tells her about such things."
For just a second, anger stirred the tiny girl, but she grinned at last and retorted: "Keep talking like that, and I won't tell you what's new!" She walked over to a corner of the big room, bright from the sun that shone in at a huge window, and began to pull off her dress.
"Come on, baby," she said. "Let's get naked. I feel like I've got twice as much hair on my snatch as I did last week. You can look at it. And I'll look at yours."
Sandra squealed. "No, not until you tell me what you mean," she cried. "And you'd better tell. 'Cause I've got more real stuff than you ever could have! And won't tell unless you do!"
They giggled together, peeling clothes off, and when they were completely nude, they placed all their clothing, shoes included, near the window. "Because if some nosy old bat comes around knocking, and goes for Mom, we can always go out the window," Rocky giggled. "And lay the key on the floor when we come back in."
They hugged each other again, enjoying it more because of the sensitivity of their firm, gently lust-swollen young tits, and Rocky aggressively thrust one of her little paws directly into the juicy cleft between her friend's cunt lips.
"Baby," she marveled. "You're really ready! I'll bet some guy could get his thing into you real easy!"
They lay down in a bin which held pillows, but only after they had shaken out a rough-dried sheet to make them a super-soft bed.
They lay together in quiet accord, but their hands were busy. And they continued to kiss, from time to time. At last Sandra spoke, and her young voice was thick and adult.
"You really have got more hair," she said. "And a hell of a lot more juice out of that little old baby cunt of yours!"
The little blonde with the tiny but perfectly shaped breasts was hunching her small hips up toward Sandy's finger. "I'm about to cum," she said in a harsh whisper. "I mean it. Go on, Sandy. Finger-fuck me a little more. Please! Put in two fingers!"
She was sweating with her need and their activities, but she fell back as her friend's voice broke on her bemused ears.
"I'm going to suck you, baby," it sounded like she was saying. But that couldn't be. Could it? But it was true, because Sandy said it again. "I'm going to suck you out. Eat your pussy!"
Rocky began to whimper. "Is it all right, Sandy? Can you do that? Is it because I said that fool thing about not being Lesbians?" Her eyes were wild, her sweet young face set in strangely grown-up lines of lust. But she lay back readily as the larger girl gave her a gentle push, looking at her, laughing.
"It's all right, Rocky. Honest. But I want to find out something. Something you were, well, forcing on me yesterday. I want to know. And then-then, baby, I'll curl your hair!"
She snuggled down, grunting, pushing pillows aside, getting a couple under the little blonde's slender haunches. Her heart was beating as if it would shoot right out of her throat, but the gamy scent coming up from the tiny girl's virgin twat was gagging her with her own excitement and the young cunt's promise of sweetness and savory juice. She made a sound like a brand new foal trying to whinny, and closed her eyes before she went down on her little friend's open and dripping little pussy.
Strangely enough, considering her innocence, she seemed to know what to do. Rocky was feeling a blast of feeling all through her immature body such as she had never known before. She wanted to scream, to say: "Oh, my darling! That's better than anything I've ever had!" But she was mute. It was sacrilege to compare this intimacy, this love, this feel with any of the crude and childish sexuality she had known.
Instead, biting her lips to keep from screaming, she fixed her clawing fingers in Sandra's hair and locked her strong and beautiful young thighs around the head which was pressing into her most intensely erotic spot.
The locked legs drove the older girl's mouth deeper into the tiny, almost hairless pussy, but she sucked eagerly. It was wonderful of Rocky to do this. Left to herself, she would have had to break the contact lest she be called bad names. Now, and this was so marvelous, she could not get away. She had to keep sucking the gamy, lumpy flow from her little friend's cunt.
She felt an aching tremor in her own loins, a rub of fired-up cunt lip on its matching twin, a darkly beautiful release of muscle and juicy flow deep in her cunt. In my vagina, she thought proudly, feeling the equal of her mother, of Mrs. Meredith, of any other woman who ever walked the earth. Last night, she had willingly, willfully sucked her brother's cock. That was crazy, and she'd been far-out lost in sex-space. But she'd done it. And now, with a girl, even if it was an old friend and a little kid, she was going at it again. SUCKING!
She was searching with her tongue for the tiny little hole at the base of young Rocky's slit. She had had her finger in it enough times. She knew every slippery pink fold of that little-girl pussy. And now she knew-it tasted like hers. It tasted like what Rocky had described on her mother's lips. And it tasted like the rankly stirring, sexually beautiful flavor of Jeff's hard young peter. Even a little like his cum.
She felt the tiny body under her grow stiff, felt the small but powerful ass whip up and down, and heard the gasping shouts from above her head.
Even though her ears were partly closed by those smooth, warm young thighs. "WOW! OH, WOW! FUCKFUCKFUCK! SANDY! IT'S CRAZY! I'M CUMMMMIIINNNGGGG!"
She sucked with fury, making young Rocky's lithe and slender body contort itself even more wildly, until at last the younger girl subsided. Her legs relaxed, and Sandra, her face smeared with the juices that flowed with such adult generosity from the childish vagina, fell forward on her little friend's smooth belly. Her own genitals were throbbing with a fierce need, but she was emotionally exhausted from the ferocity of her act.
"I kept thinking of it, and I kept thinking of it, and I had to do it," she gasped. "I don't care what you say, or what anyone says. I did it, and I'm glad!" And, very unexpectedly to herself and to young Raquel, she began to cry.
The little blonde, whose achingly sensitive pussy was still almost melting with the hard, joyous release of the best and strangest cum she had ever had, reached down to paw at the naked shoulders of her best friend. By wriggling her own taut little body down, and at the same time hauling Sandra's body up as best she could, she was at last able to put her face against that of the quietly sniffling dark young girl.
"Come on, baby," she whispered. "Cut out that crying shit. What's to feel bad about?"
"Oh, I don't know," Sandy sobbed. "It just seemed so right, and I wanted to try it. But now I'm scared!" But she turned her face to the blonde child's and, when Rocky eagerly kissed her, she made a joyful little sound and worked her mouth very hard, all over Rocky's, her tongue fiercely sucking away at the other girl's.
"Wow! And wow again!" Rocky said in an awed way. "I've stuck my finger in my pussy a million times, and smelled it and licked it. But it never tasted this good!" She ran her little pink tongue wetly all around her lips and kissed Sandra again, this time more gently. "Why would that be?" she asked.
Sandy had stopped crying. "I guess it's because you're getting more grown up," she said, unable to keep up a show of penitence in the face of this opportunity to teach and train. "When we were little, our pussies had very little smell or taste. Just like we couldn't smell grown up under the arms until we had hair, right?"
Rocky, whose ardent young body was enjoying the smoothness and warmth of her friend's body, made a snuggling motion and stroked one of Sandra's full, taut young breasts. "Yeah, I guess that's it," she said. "But listen, kid, are you through crying? Because, hey, don't you want me to suck you out, too?"
She immediately began to suck on the breast nearest her, more than delighted to feel her friend's body leap in pleasure.
At the same time, she quietly searched between their two young bellies, pushing her fingers through the elegant, curly mop of dark hair on Sandra's twat, eventually getting the end of her index finger in the slippery beginning of the girlish slit.
"Oh, my God, Rocky!" Sandra gasped. "Go easy! I got so HOT!" and she screamed the word, almost frightening the younger girl. "I got so hot," she whispered, "when I was, uh, sucking you, that I almost popped my pistol. Oh, baby! Take it easy! Shove on down, but r-e-e-a-a-l easy! OHHHH! I think you're right at my clit! Can you feel it? Ooooohhhh! That's so good!"
She wiggled her cute, indubitably maturing ass from side to side, and made a hard thrust at her friend's finger.
"Ooohhh!" she gasped. "Are you going to finger-fuck me? If you are, sort of turn around, so I can look at your sweet little old fuck hole while you're doing it! Ohhhh! Wow! That's nice!" She thrust again, and Rocky's finger slipped into the lubricated hole of the dark girl.
The small blonde released the nervously throbbing titty from her mouth and laughed deep in her young throat. "You just bet I'll turn my ass around for you, baby," she said throatily. "Have I got a thing going for you!"
There was a pleasant rubbing of warm, nubile young bodies as they heaved and reversed, and Rocky said: "Go on, Sandy, start playing with my pussy. And everything you do with mine, I'll do with yours!"
She eagerly pulled the beautifully molded thighs of the older girl apart. There was a wealth of warm, throat-clogging musk steaming up from the parted cunt lips shining redly in the softly crinkled hair. "Geez, Sandy, you oughta see your clit," the little blonde breathed. It's so big! And it's, uh, like, sort of twitching!" She tenderly pulled the thick, warm lips apart and looked down to where wet, pink bubbles of slick membrane made a closure to keep out dust, and light. But not cocks or fingers. Or tongues.
She was waiting, her throat feeling very tight, her saliva glands filling her mouth so that she had to swallow repeatedly, when she felt an electric tingle in her young cunt. Still sensitive from the wonderful cum her friend had given her, she had an involuntary reaction which slammed her open and tenderized cunt directly into Sandy's face. At the same time, she boldly put her mouth directly over the dark girl's vaginal aperture, sucked as hard as she could, and tried to sink her tongue right into the place her fingers had explored so often.
There was a loud yell, seemingly of pain, right into her own split, and she felt the vibrations of Sandra's scream like the intense feeling of an electric buzzer.
The taste of Sandy's pussy, so much like her own, and the intensely stirring aroma, so exactly like what she had smelled in her mother's bedroom today, sent a hard thrill of life all through her body. It seemed to start in her mouth, where she was sucking and tongue-lashing the loose, marvelously slick folds on her friend's cunt. The slickness and savory richness were almost too good to swallow. But they created a feeling in her belly, too, and in her small but beautiful young titties. And finally, in a fiery trace across her belly, into the vital depths of her girlish cunt.
She wished she could say: "Oh, Sandra, baby, my friend Sandra, my love, my lover, my best friend ever, ever! I thank you so for this day, for this taste of being a woman, for this proof of being grown up!" The swelling of the vein-reddened rosette of inner cunt lips seemed to move in her sweet young mouth, seemed to swirl and retreat and kiss at her as she was sucking them. She wanted to shout that they were better than heaven, and better than boys' cocks, which if she had truly known she would have preferred. But nature kept her sucking and kissing and licking, as so many, many young girls have always done in their first plunges into rejection-free sex.
She felt Sandy cumming simply because she felt herself being uplifted from wet heat, black and swelling heat inside her cunt, from deep up it, around her girlish little womb. It seemed weird to her to have a womb, which her mother had told her about during her first little barely-bloody period, only a couple of months back. But she was glad she had one. Glad she was a woman. And some day, to have a man's hard old peter sticking into her pussy, gouging at her guts, making her cum. Just as this black moment of joyous delirium was rending her young loins again, giving her a twistingly, achingly beautiful cum.
But she was having such a wild one because she could feel the crazy spasms cumming in her more developed friend. I wonder, she thought in the secret dark of her mind, even as she was firing one orgasm after another in Sandy's crazily sucking mouth, if it feels better when you've got so much hair on your pussy, so much, even, that it's all around your ass-hole?
The rapid throbbing and drawing of her cunt in its orgasm, the flowing of juice that came out of her from Sandy's cunt as she sucked, told her that she was doing exactly as her friend was, that her shocks of bursting lust were as big, as good, as sweet. And as deeply satisfying.
She felt the writhing muscles of Sandra's back and buttocks begin to slacken, just as she felt her own intensity begin to lessen, to fade into a full, richly warm glow all through her body. But I still want to kiss her here, Rocky thought. We kiss on the mouth all the time. This is so much sweeter.
She kept her thighs open around Sandra's head, and was not conscious that she was raising and lowering her ass and her cuntal area in a pantomime of fucking. It just felt good, that was all. And in a rhythm that exactly matched the shaky thrust of her relaxed loins, she was licking up and down the drooling pink split, caressing the shapeless and unmarked spot where the retreated clitoris had stood so hard and trembling. Her down strokes lightly touched the hole which was gently releasing more and more of the clear, warm, fragrant cunt oils. Without any feeling of lust, only of deep affection, she was cleaning up this sweet overflow. Her cunt's so much like mine, the child thought. More hair, but just like it. Tastes like it. Smells like it. And like Mom's too. That smell. So great to be one Of the world's tender sisterhood.
She had a brief, but shocking thrust of understanding in her heart, a deep and innate knowledge of why Sandra had cried. It was because Of that same deep descent into the well of female understanding, of loving women but needing men, and of being both bait and trap, of being sentenced by nature, and of having this girl-on-girl joy as an escape hatch.
After they were dressed, which would have been done very quickly except for their kissing and patting and looking and sucking on each other's swollen young breasts, they unlatched the door. The sheet they had lain on was refolded and put back. The pillows that had given their girlish lusts a soft bed were fluffed out and rearranged.
"You didn't tell me," Rocky whispered, stroking her hand down over Sandy's voluptuous young butt, "do I or don't I have a lot more hair on my snatch? And aren't the lips thicker?"
"You're so sweet," Sandra giggled. "How do I know? What do I care? You'll never be any more grown up than you are right now. Your cute little old titties are just so much like mine were, about a year ago. But you know what I think? I think if we keep on doing these things," and she drew in a deep breath, "we're both going to have bigger, fatter pussies. And bigger, prettier boobs."
She thought for a minute. "We were kidding about telling each other some things. And then we got to playing around."
Rocky raised an eyebrow. "Didn't we, though!" she agreed. "Ooooh! I'm glad we did! Now we can do anything! Ooooh! You sure made me cum like a rocket!"
Sandra squeezed the lovely little blonde sprite. "I guess we were bound to do that, sooner or later," she said wisely. "We started by looking at each other, and then feeling, and then finger-fucking. And then French-kissing." She shrugged and smiled. "I'm glad, because now, I can tell you everything that happened to me last night. If we hadn't, I couldn't," she added cryptically.
She told Raquel all about it, every last word.
"You mean you've always known he peeped at you?" she asked. "I know you told me he did, some of the time. like he saw you taking a pee for yourself. Wow! And you were fucking yourself with your finger? How come?"
"I got so hot," Sandra confessed. "Thinking of him watching me, looking at my cunt, my boobs, all of it. Whew!" And she let out a deep breath. "So while I was holding it open so he could see it, it got to be too much. Just too damn much!" she said with emphasis. "And when I started to cum-well, you know how it feels. Legs go rubbery, eyes close. You know!"
"And you let him shoot off in your mouth? Wow! That's pretty heavy! Oh, God, kid!" The little blonde wriggled all over in her excitement, her tiny cunt beginning to clasp and release, letting girl-juice flood down her thigh. "Did it, uh, taste like I said? Smell like it?"
Sandra looked at her little friend thoughtfully. "It was a whole lot like what you described when you kissed your mom," the dark girl said. "His peter tasted just like we do. Smelled like we do. And his jism-UUUNNNHHHH!" and she grunted like a pig, hunching her young ass involuntarily. "It was so thick! And so slick! But it didn't smell like us. Not really."
She was gasping and panting, and little Rocky put an arm over the older girl's shoulder. "If mom's asleep, or gone to the market," she whispered, "I think we can find out something for sure. Come on!"
CHAPTER FIVE
It was something of a shock to Sheri Meredith to awake from a half-asleep, half-awake period of dozing and find that her daughter and Sandra were fooling around in her bedroom. "Sniffing around" would have been more like it, she realized, once she was fully awake and had rolled off the bed.
Of course, since she herself was permeated with the smell of sex, and since the source of the invisible but powerful miasma of cock-and-cunt was on her lips and cheeks-and, more to the point, between her legs in the humid area from navel to ass-hole-she would be less sensitive to it than the girls. In fact, she was mystified by their actions.
But she was essentially a good mother, a good-natured adult, and a woman conscious of the demands of hospitality. So she said, after a sleepy, smiling greeting: "You kids must be getting hungry. Let's get you some nice little snack, shall we?"
Unconsciously, Raquel ran her little pointed tongue around her lips. And Sandra, with the rich, gamy taste of the younger girl's pussy still fresh in her mouth, had to choke off a gut of explosive laughter. Sheri hadn't seen the action of her daughter, and couldn't possibly have understood if she had. She simply equated Sandra's burst of mirth with the silliness of teenage girls. So she patted her daughter's friend on her dark head and went into the kitchen. She was still drowsy, full of a warm sense of completion, and happy in the remembrance of that unbelievable paperboy and his unbelievable ability to fuck a grown woman so long, so hard, so satisfactorily.
But Rocky, as soon as she had left, pulled her friend over to the bed and dramatically pointed to a darker spot on the coverlet. "It's still damp," she whispered. "That's what we were smelling when mom woke up."
"I don't know," the older girl said doubtfully. "It sure is a fucky kind of smell, but I can't tell if it's jism or not. How wet is it?"
She knelt on the bed and pressed her hand hard on the dark spot. To her amazement, a shine of some liquid appeared as she pressed down. She gasped, and little Rocky whispered: "What is it, Sandy? Get some of that stuff up and let me smell it."
The dark girl, though, took her time. She lifted her hand carefully. The shine of liquid still remained, and she bent to sniff at it. The characteristic smell and taste were much stronger than when she and Rocky were simply acting as bloodhounds, from a distance. She pressed into the center of the damp area once more, but this time she ran the back of her thumbnail through the drying goo, and held up her hand. It was thick and it was not quite a clear liquid. It was opaque, milky white.
To make certain, she tasted it with her tongue, then licked it up, rolled her eyes, and said huskily: "That's it. That's cum!"
Rocky pushed her friend away and bent her face to the spot where Sandra had scraped up her evidence. "It's just like what I smelled and tasted on mom last night!" she hissed excitedly.
She clung to Sandra suddenly, her knees growing weak with the stunning idea of her mother's pussy-and her sweet mouth, too, of course-being so warmly engaged with a boy's cock. A boy she knew! Whose sister was her friend! A boy's sister who had, however unpremeditated it might have been, held the boy's cock in her mouth, feeling and tasting the heat and power of his spurts of semen. She was whining and sobbing with a wild burst of cunt heat, a twisting of cock-hungry muscles inside her girlish twat. And she was squeezing one of Sandra's mature tits as if she would twist it from her friend's body.
They broke apart with a strange sense of triumph as they heard Sheri's voice: "Come on, you guys! Chow's down!"
"It's the real thing, isn't it?" Rocky asked in a trembling voice. "I licked some of it up! It's not the same as ours! It's not even the same as what I tasted on mom yesterday! Not exactly."
She licked her lips again, then picked up Sandra's hand and licked the thumbnail. "Oh, God, kid, it's too much!" she said in a faint and husky voice. "Now, do you believe me?"
They went down the hall and into the big kitchen where Sheri had put out saltines, a ripe avocado, some cheese and a plate of cookies.
"There's only one Coke in the refrigerator," she smiled. "Rocky, d'you want to get a six-pack out of the storage room? Take a pan and get some ice cubes out of the freezer, too."
She was only mildly astounded when Sandra gave her an odd look and eased up out of her chair. "I'll go along," the visitor said nervously, and Sheri said: "Of course. If you want to." She knew how warm and deeply pleasing it' is to have a friend, someone to confide in, to share secrets with. And she remembered the feeling she'd had about young Whatshisname, the kid with the lovely cock. Jeff, that was it. The feeling that Jeff had no close friends, no one to talk to. Had he said so, or had it been her intuition? In any case, she vowed to herself, she'd make sure that he knew he could talk to her. At his age, when he was just getting into something like sex, which had so many unnecessary pitfalls of remorse and guilt and fear, he'd almost have to have someone. If only Sandy were his brother instead of his sister! For of course he couldn't talk to a girl about stuff like that! Especially not his sister!
"Gee, Rocky," Sandra was saying, "I guess it was dumb, but I just felt so funny, staying there alone with your mom. And knowing that that was my brother's cum on her bed!" The two girls giggled and hugged each other, and Rocky was reaching across the mattress on the floor to pull a carton of some soft drinks to her when she said:
"Ugh!" and shook her fingers.
She had braced herself on one arm, and now she looked at her friend Sandy with a wild surmise, nodding down to the wet spot with a little shining puddle of something slick in the middle. And, as she sniffed her hand, she began to laugh, pointing to the dark area. "They must have been fucking all over the house!" she croaked. "But what a wonderful place to do it!"
With nose and tongue, Sandra verified the new discovery, and was deeply thrilled by it. "I never knew boys could cum all that much," she said. "From all I've heard, or read. Hey!" she exclaimed. "He may have been here a long time! This is Thursday. He doesn't have any classes from nine-fifteen-I think that's it-until afternoon. And he goes out on Thursdays to collect for the newspaper. Golly! Wow!" Her eyes were misty with the very idea of that cock going into Mrs. Meredith's cunt. Wow! It must be a big one! With a ton of hair! She felt a strange excitement flooding her, building up heat in her belly. She looked at her blonde friend.
Rocky was staring at the wet spot, finding it almost impossible to keep from rubbing her suddenly aroused pussy.
"Let's get out of here," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "This is too heavy for me!"
The two kids pulled themselves together, as kids always have when it's necessary to present a united front and a noncommittal stare on the command generation. They ate and drank mainly in silence, and Sheri, carrying on with her interrupted chores in the kitchen, left them alone.
Therefore, when Raquel said, with unusual uncertainty: "If it's okay with you, Mom, can I walk over to Sandy's? I promise I won't stay long, and," with a nervous giggle, "I'll be careful crossing the street!" Sheri laughed outright.
"Go ahead," she said. "And don't knock yourself out getting back. We're going to have leftover chicken for dinner, and I'll make some macaroni and cheese. It's better, warmed up, then it is fresh out of the oven."
She watched them go, fairly dancing in their eagerness to get out and away. 'They're full of something," she said aloud, and with an indulgent smile. "It's great to be young!"
The two friends moved along the hall. Just as the apartments were spacious, so were the halls wide. "Almost like at school," Sandra giggled. "My dad says these houses were built when lumber and labor and everything else was cheap. That's why there's so much room."
They were passing the linen room, and Rocky, leaning against the warmth of her friend, said: "I sure am glad they built that linen room!" and Sandy whooped and hugged the slender blonde.
They were at the building's entrance when the door opened and a familiar figure, entering, stopped short on seeing them.
"Hello," Jeff said guardedly, wondering why his sister was over here on this particular day, and how much she had told Rocky. In this composite abstract of unformed fear and unspoken guilt, he also carried vivid impressions of the lovely, hospitable thighs of Rocky's mother, seeming so far removed-even, possibly, seeming so far above him, a sex-mad delinquent, as he thought. But he thought of those warm thighs as lying open for him, and in his cluttered and jumpy mind, he saw the big puff of dark, richly curled cunt hair. Too, he saw the almost hidden shine of ripe red cunt lips, wet and slick from his cum and hers. For a split second, he felt all of this, and it made his legs tremble.
And then he saw the proudly up-thrust titties of his young sister, and her sweetly curved lips. In a very adult way, he was conscious that those lips had closed on his cock, and that her tongue had wrapped around its throbbing head as he had spurted his jism into her avidly swallowing mouth. So-who was she to be afraid of? Or her little-girl friend, a mere baby?
He pushed by them, smiling in an aloof manner, not even noticing that they eyed him with strange calculation. Girls were weird, anyhow. Not women like Mrs. Meredith. They were okay, down to earth, straightforward. He blushed as he swung along the hall, thinking of how Mrs. Meredith had so straightforwardly taken his cock out of his pants and began to suck it.
He did not look back and hence did not see Rocky wave good-bye at his sister, and walk smoothly back along the hall, stopping to take a key from a nail and open a room. He was going to tell Mrs. Meredith that he had rearranged his route so that she was his last customer. That he could come in for a while. Maybe he might even be straightforward, too, and run his hand up between her big, smooth thighs to where that good pussy was. He even had a pretty good start on a hard-on, just from thinking about it. But in that last fifteen feet or so, he lost his guts.
Maybe she wouldn't feel like doing all that stuff again. After all, he sure had spilled a lot of cum juice on her good bed. And on that old mattress in that storage room. And Rocky might be back any minute.
So he didn't ring the bell. He just laid the paper down against the door, very quietly, and retreated.
He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice whispered: "Hey! Paperboy! Get your ass in here!"
He was so shocked when he saw that it was little Rocky, and that she was standing in some strange room, that he actually did as he had been ordered-he went into the room with her.
It was big and well lighted, with shelves of linens and large compartments filled with what looked like pillows and blankets. There was also a large, smooth table down the center of the room. He saw all this with a glance, but he saw something else that was far more interesting, and completely, chillingly frightening.
It was a slender blonde child that he knew only too well. She was carefully closing the door and releasing the latch on the Yale lock on the door. And-something else.
She was bare-ass naked.
He had not brought his large canvas paperboy's carrying bag in with him. He only had the one paper to deliver. His bike was outside, locked, and hidden behind a bush. He did not know why he thought of all this. Except that right now, he would have given all he owned to be on his bike, getting the hell out of where he was.
He was speechless. But Rocky wasn't. He was also frozen, unable to move. But Rocky wasn't. Anything but.
She had a look on her face of the most wanton boldness, not only like a cat who has eaten the canary, but like a pussy which is determined to eat a boy. He could not look her in the face, but he was aware of her expression. And he could not look away from her body. Her titties were perky perfect, tip-tilted and tiny little melons of flesh with pointed red tips that were glowing with blood flow and inner heat. The light was right for him to see what his sister had ignored-the ring of light yellow hair that circled her fat little pubic mound like an inverted horseshoe of blonde fur. It was fantastic that this little friend of his sister, who had always seemed like a child to him, now seemed too grown up. She frightened him.
But the worst thing of all was that she was as bold as he was timid. He was fifteen, she was-what? Twelve? He thought not. He thought she was more like eleven. But he could not remove his fascinated gaze from the fat little delta of protruding flesh, with its slit in plain sight because of her nearly hairless condition, and with its small but beautiful tuft of fine blonde hair to give mute credence to the claim of being a woman. Furthermore, there was a juicy highlight on the little tags of pink inner lips that had crept out through the cushiony outer cleft.
All of this took perhaps three or four seconds to flash through his mind. Then, summoning some strength and sense, he croaked: "Let me out of here! Get out of my way, dummy!"
But the little girl, her heart beating with an odd mixture of lust and timidity, said: "You're the dummy! Fifteen years old and you can't even look at a naked girl. Unless she's your sister!" Her voice was calculatedly scornful.
"Shut up!" Jeff blurted. "You know you're lying!" But he stood still as she came up to him, and he let out a sort of uncontrolled moan as she grasped his young cock where it lay in his slacks. "Let go of me!" He was trembling, and the young girl, barely able to breathe for excitement and triumph, felt his prick expand and struggle to get up.
"Dummy!" she said, now that she felt more confident. "What would you say if I told you I know everything? Everything!" she boasted, and gave his swelling cock a soft squeeze. "How does that make you feel? I know everything you've been doing!"
What should have been terror or, at the least, very deep apprehension, was turning into a sort of pleasant desperation. The boy had been thinking of nothing but sex for more than twenty-four hours. He had seen and felt a grown-up twat, he had been sucked by this child's mother and by his own sister. And he had plunged his fingers into both cunts, each time on the request of the female involved. And he still had the seeds of the erection he had planned for Mrs. Meredith.
"A lot I care," he growled, although his fears had not gone, but only been buried for the time being under a landslide of fuck-heat and native desire. "But you're just a dummy kid. What do you know?"
She was fumbling with his belt, with his zipper. He should have been panicky, but he could smell-was it possible for such a young girl?-that gut-quaking thickness of aroma that seems to surround a cunt in heat. But he was cautious and, as she triumphantly dragged his cock out, now standing at its full, hard height, he whispered: "If we get caught, it'll be your fault!" And as he said this, he felt a deep desire to feel her frail but well-cushioned little-girl body against his.
He dropped his pants and shorts and wriggled out of his shirt, and little Rocky, her eyes on his prick, suddenly felt such a gush of saliva that she could barely swallow it.
"You've got to do what I say," she whispered. "If I say do it, you do it. And if I say no, you stop. Or I'll tell!" Her cheeks looked feverish with their wild pink glow, and her little twat felt as if it were turning inside out.
Jeff was confused, but not too confused to want something from this slender blonde sprite. His cock actually hurt him with its tension, its hardness, but he had heard so many wild tales of boys "getting into trouble" with little girls! In a blind rage of passion, he grabbed the small form and pulled it to him, and Rocky, even dumber than Jeff about what to do, felt grateful that her smooth little belly was rubbing hard against his cock.
He was groaning above her head: "I don't dare do it! I don't dare do it!" and the tiny blonde, scared but determined, said: "You'll do what I tell you! Help me up on this table!"
It was higher than normal table height, and quite wide. Blindly, Jeff put his hands under her arms, his thumbs conscious of pressing into the upper swell of her little-girl titties, and his fingers dampened in the sweat under her childish arms.
But when she was up, he seemed to be standing between her small but beautiful thighs, and she was staring down at his cock and at the fat little mound where her cunt started. She felt a wave of desire, of tenderness, and hugged the boy's dark head against her soft little breasts. When she let him go, she looked at him searchingly, and said: "I'd be scared to actually do it. To fuck. You know. Wouldn't you?"
He doggedly muttered: "I'm not scared. I've fucked lots of times! But you're such a baby!"
"All right!" she cried angrily. "I'm younger than you, and younger than your sister, and younger than my mom! But damn you, I've got feelings! And I'm grown up enough to cum!"
She lay back suddenly, braced on her elbows, her young thighs wide apart. "Come on and play with me," she invited. "Be my brave little finger-fucker. You can't knock me up with the dirt from under your fingernail!"
Her tender young cunt was split wetly within a foot of his face. He could see the sweetly slimy petals of her inner lips, the trickly crawl of cunt juice smeared on the fatness of her outer lips. Her soft little butt was smashed down by her weight, closing the gap between her rounded ass-cheeks to a tight slit. And just above where her ass met the table, he saw the source of a new flow of pussy juice, the pinkly fluted cluster of softness and wetness which led into her cunt.
He became cooler, once he had decided. "Let me suck your titty," he whispered. "Give it to me. I'll stick my finger in, and you can tell me how I'm doing. But I want to be sucking on your boob all the while. Okay?"
With a mute gesture of surrender, the child held up one small but lovely breast to his beardless lips, and he sucked her into him so hard that she screamed with pain and joy. I
"Man! I never knew it could feel like that," she moaned. "Oh, Jeff, you're doing that so good!" She hunched her ass toward him. "Your finger! Your finger! Ohhhh! Stick it into me!"
Blindly, his face against her narrow but sweetly padded chest, he groped across her thigh, his thumb delightfully conscious of the soft little ring of blonde hair, hardly more than down, really, and stabbed at the slickness of her cunt.
He grazed the outer lips and his hand slipped in the warm slick flow that emerged from her amazingly mature cunt lips, the inner ones, so swollen with her warm blood and passion.
"Down," the girl whispered. "Down further. Not there! That's my ass-hole! Ohhh! Ohhhhh!" and she seemed to throw her bottom at him, so that his finger suddenly found the hole, and sank into her sloppily sucking little vagina, feeling the same sort of folds, the same heat and slippery movements that he had felt in her mother. And in his sister.
He knew what a cock did in a girl's pussy, and he tried to do the same thing with his finger. He was pleased and surprised when the little girl began moaning and jerking, and he heard her voice: "Oh, Jeffie! Oh, Jeffie! That's the place! Oh! Oh! Oh, baby! You're finger-fucking me so beautifully! I think I'm about to-CUM! CUM! I'M CUMINNGG! OHHH! AARRGGHH! OH, JEFF! Ohhhhh!" and she let her breath out, her body trembling.
The pleased boy had sweat running down into his eyes when he let go of her aroused little breast and grinned at her. "Made you cum pretty good, didn't I?" he asked. "Look at me!" He thrust out his loins, and the young girl, her eyes wide, cried out: "Oh, he's so big and scary! You never could get that big thing into my poor little old pussy!" But she leaned over and reached down and took the throbbing prick in her hand, wondering if she dared ask him the favor that was trembling on her lips. .
Jeff moved. "Hey, watch it!" he said angrily. "I want to cum, but I don't just want you to jerk me off! Hey," he said, as if it cost him some courage, "could I put it, like, between your thighs? It sure is just about ready to shoot!"
The little girl thought, her small finger on her lower lip. At last, remembering that, after all, she had so much on him that he dared not deny her, said thickly: "I want the same as you gave your sister. The same way you did it with Sandy!"
He had never heard the proverb about its being as well to be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and he was not sure it was so. He wanted relief, and not by a jerk-off. But having an eleven-year-old girl take his cock in her mouth, and shooting his jism into her young throat-that was pretty heavy.
"I can't do that," he said in a scratchy whisper.
"Anyhow, who said I did anything to Sandy? And who said what it was?"
The girl, her young mind aflame, and her wishful body aching for the great adventure of real sex, moved her ass back and forth on the smooth surface of the table. The warmth between her thighs seemed to spread. It had been wonderful to be brought to a cum by a boy's finger! That was sort of going along toward being grown up. But one orgasm, for a hot young girl, even one who had sucked and been sucked into a violent series of cums only a short time ago, was just a drop in the bucket. She felt that her mouth was hanging open, just from the raging fire in her, of wanting to have that cock in her head.
"You put it in her mouth," the girl said, her voice trembling. "You let it all go. Your load. You shot off in her mouth." She gritted her teeth as she almost went into a shock of orgasm, closing her eyes in agonized ecstasy. "She sucked you off. She told me so, herself!"
"I can't do it!" the boy cried wildly, feeling the load in his balls overheating, swelling his cockhead into dangerously itchy desire. "I can't!" But this was his conscience, his rotten, stupid conscience. And the pressure of semen in his rampaging balls, the harsh and grown-up need firing his cock-nerves, had an older, more powerful argument.
He continued to whisper: "No, no! I can't!" but he was climbing up on the table, and the girl's half-crazy with the glamorous fuck-itch swelling her junior labia, buzzing her clitty button like a little alarm clock going off, eagerly helped him up. And pulled him down on her so she could kiss his face, his eyes, any part of him.
"Oh, goody-goody!" she whispered, "I'm going to get it! I'm going to get it!" She was reaching between his legs, grabbing blindly and hungrily for his cock, and her smooth young forearms alerted his nerves, their satin softness making a promise that all her body wanted to keep.
He felt her hot breath cooling the sweat on his belly, and although his mind said "No!" his cock and balls cried "YES! YES!" in an overpowering voice. He saw her delightfully tiny ass, almost like a big doll's, move above him, saw it open, and saw the hotly divided lips of her young cunt as she maneuvered to get to his engorged penis. She was panting, her eyes were closed, and he knew that she needed this even worse than he did.
He remembered what her mother had said. How short a time ago, and yet it seemed like a long, long time. That girls needed it even more than boys. Because with them, it was more than physical. He was thinking "fuck" and "suck" and "cunt" and all the other forbidden but lovely words he knew, looking at the pinkly peeled back cunt lips so beautifully inviting as the little girl so awkwardly sought to gobble his prick.
Suddenly he felt grown up, and he held the tiny, warmly writhing body, one hand between her thighs, one firmly grasping one of her soft, firm little breasts. "Wait!" he said. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right. Lie on your side. Go on, damn it! I'm going to let you have it! Don't you trust me?"
She let go and fell on her side with a whimper, but her tiny, perfectly formed hands stroked between his thighs, and she moaned, the spit running out of the lower corner of her mouth. He spoke to her kindly. "You can handle my cock just a little. But be easy. You got any idea of how a guy cums?"
The child's voice seemed far away, pleading, humble. "I guess I don't know too much," she gasped. "Sandy said it shot into her mouth and she had a hard time swallowing it."
He felt a shudder of feeling go through the soft, warm child, and the manly thrust of his mind overcame his immediate need to fire his cream. He even stroked along the fat outer lips of her juicy young cunt, watching the clear juice run out.
Jesus Christ! he thought. She's as full of cunt juice as her mom! The thought made his tongue swell, made his salivary glands expel a small fountain of spit under his tongue. I'm going to suck her twat, he thought, fascinated by his calmness.
He said aloud, and very softly: "Okay, Rocky. You can open up your mouth and sort of go down on my cock. That's what they call it, you know," he added, feeling much older. "Going down on a guy. Oooohhh! Goddamn! Easy! Whew!" and he plucked very hard at her tits. "You almost had a face full of cum, right then and there. Lie still, and let me fuck back and forth in your mouth. Hold your tongue sort of against it. There. Wow!" He was fucking back and forth as though he had been at it all his life, and the young girl, feeling the enormous triumph of finally, at long last, really having a cock in her mouth, was swept by a fluttering cum that made her jam her cunt right into Jeff's face.
He was not prepared for it, but he did the instinctive thing. Just as the naive Sandra had automatically sucked at the tender head of his cock, his tongue went into the tight, slippery hole that led into the wet darkness of the tiny girl's vagina. And it was too much for her.
With the same wildness as she had shown on his finger, she tried to suck his tongue into her with all the pressure and force of a virgin cunt. She was screaming, but the sounds of it were muffled by his swollen cock, and she would not have disgorged this sweet, hot lump of meat for a king's ransom. And the squirming of muscle inside her twat was answered by a corresponding action in her throat. In their sweated embrace, slipping and grasping each other, conscious only of their need and the outpouring of their lust, the boy hammered his spurting penis into the girl's juvenile throat, as much a man as he would ever be, although he could not realize it.
And the girl, hardly able to sprout hairs on her pubis, only a few months away from the little-girl sterility of non-flavored cunt juice, let the blast of female orgasm roll through her, swelling her tits, spasming in her vagina, while her hard little clitoris expanded and trembled and sank into its nest of cloaking flesh, only to expand and shake with another juicy and soul-shaking cum, one after the other.
When they were at last finished, and little Rocky's tired mouth was as slack as her tight little pussy, and Jeff's young cock, limbered by the little chickie's gleeful suck, they very slowly rolled apart. They were so lathered with sweat that they made a sucking noise as their bodies separated, and Jeff, wishing desperately that he hadn't done this, sat up.
He expected to be denounced. Never mind the fact that it was Rocky who had attacked him, practically. He knew girls, how they often jockeyed a fellow into doing or saying something he shouldn't, and then made him suffer in their weird desire to see a male in trouble.
But then, in that bright room, still brilliantly lighted by the late afternoon sun, his eyes came back to focus. And there before him, only inches away, was that same sweet little split, that same fat-lipped little cunt that he had so thoroughly sucked out only minutes before. He could see the ring of fine blonde hair that adorned the softly shaped mound where the slit began. He could see the few hairs that straggled down the thick lips, that would, some day, cover all her cuntal area with the glory of curly, bright blonde cunt hair. But mainly, what he saw and loved was the openness of what had been a rather primly closed cleft. And he had an idea that his sucking, plus, of course, the young girl's native heat, had caused the sweet little pussy to be open, with all its shiny pink convolutions exposed.
And, when he looked down to see the expression on Raquel's face, no longer worried about her reactions, he saw a look of the most intense sweetness, as well as evidence of the hot passion that had linked them together. At each corner of her soft young mouth, with her lips seeming a deeper pink after their sexual ecstasies, there were a few pearly drops of his rich, thick semen. And she smiled appreciatively at him as she ran her slender tongue out and, gathered in those last stray drops of the delicately flavored seed.
When she finished, she rolled around and sat up, her arms around the boy's neck. "Oh, Jeffie," she whispered, "that was so lovely! Thank you for treating me like a person!"
His left arm was around her naked young body, and she was so slender that his arm reached far enough around that his hand warmly held her small but beautifully modeled little breast. His right hand seemed to go naturally down between her thighs, and his softly moving fingers found a welcome in the slick and trembling pressures of her young cunt. To complete the triangle of boy-and-girl adventure, his mouth came down on hers in an adult kiss, and they clung together, warmly sucking on each other's tongues.
After they drew away to smile mistily at each other, the slim little beauty cried: "Oh! Lovely!" as she saw Jeff's cock stir with a revival of interest, and she threw herself prostrate to put her sweet mouth just at the center of his lap. And then, looking up at him with the age-old roguishness of the woman in heat, she gently put her mouth around the half-hard, half-soft cock and calmly began her woman's joyous chore of sucking it clean.
He was entranced by the sight of her lovely and girlish buttocks, teasingly turned up as she lay on her belly. His fingers strayed into that slippery cleft where her cum juice and his spit had left snail-trails of slickness as she had overflowed in the joys of orgasm. But they were stopped cold in their sweet attentions.
There was a brisk sound of steps in the hall, someone rattled the door, and an adult voice said: "Damn it! That key's never here when I need it!" and the footsteps receded.
Rocky kissed Jeff quickly. "Don't worry!" she whispered. "Get your clothes on."
When they were dressed, she opened the door and looked up and down the hall. "Quick!" she hissed. "Out here!" and there they were, walking innocently along, when Mrs. Basilone, one of the tenants from the second floor, steamed down the hall toward them with a key in her hand. "Key misplaced again," she said with a rather sour smile, and Rocky, her face straight, said: "Yeah! I just found it out in the middle of the hall. Someone must have dropped it and it got kicked around."
She walked down to the building's entrance with Jeff, and squeezed his hand as she left. "I'm supposed to be at your house with Sandy," she said. "Let me get away and then take this key back to mom. Tell her you saw me and your sister, and that I asked you to give this back to her."
She kissed him on the cheek and was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
Of all the growth-forcing events which had expanded young Jeff Stone's life in the past two days, none was more intensely bittersweet than facing the warm, inviting smile and the warm, inviting body of Sheri Meredith.
She was so openly, obviously delighted to see him that he felt like a fool for tiptoeing away after sneakily leaving her paper. And she was so gleeful as she told him that Rocky had gone to his house with his sister, "so we don't have to worry about her interrupting us!" that he felt just a twinge of guilt that he had shot such a load of jism into the tender young girl's hotly sucking mouth. I'm glad she sucked my dick clean, he thought, as Sheri, hugging him with one smooth, strong arm, reached down between them to feel probingly for his cock.
But it was so funny, too, in a way, and it made him feel so good, and so manly, to realize that he was carrying on with a mother and a daughter. One of them much older than he. The other so much younger that, judging by what he'd heard and seen, the average parent would scream bloody murder over it. Even if I was just taking her to a school dance, he thought in an inward burst of good feeling for both himself and little Raquel.
"What happened?" Sheri asked the boy. "I found the paper outside when that lady from upstairs came for the linen room key. I was afraid you'd become bored with me, and had run out. Stood me up, you know," and she laughed, holding him to her, softly, warmly rubbing his young prick up and down in the soft fabric of his slacks.
He hung his head, remembering that he had, in fact, chickened out. "I was afraid you wouldn't want me," he whispered, his face red. "You've been so straightforward with me, I was going to try to be like that, but I chickened out."
They were, somehow, back in her bedroom and sitting together on the edge of the bed. And the lovely, sweet woman had his feet in her lap and was untying his sneakers. She leaned to kiss him, and gave him just a wee taste of her slick tongue.
"What were you going to do that was so straightforward that you lost your guts?" she asked him with a teasing smile. "Don't tell me, show me." She put his feet down and reached to help him get the knit shirt over his head. "Okay," she said, her voice a tiny bit hoarse with sexual expectancy. "Show me."
Looking at her very hard, he slowly put his hand on her knee, working it back between her thighs. They were smooth, but because of the warm day, and the natural moisture of her healthy skin, he had to worm his hand along, until she suddenly spread her knees apart. Immediately, his hand shot to her softly-haired cunt, and she hugged him to her as he pushed between the big, soft lips, into the warm, sensuously moist channel.
"Oooh!" she groaned. "I'm so glad you're doing that, Jeff! Do you know, that's what I've been wanting! Do you like to do it this way, just play around in there? Or do you want to undress me and let me lie back so you can do whatever you want to?"
When he buried his flushed face in her breasts, she whispered: "Wait a minute," and moved the dress down off her shoulders. She had changed from her house cleaning rags to a loosely fitting dress which gave her ripe figure full latitude to show its best points, and how she was glad of it. When young Jeff still just nuzzled in the softness of her titties, she said: "Here! This is where it gives me the best feeling. Open your mouth, you sweet thing!" and squeezed one of her full, firm breasts into a jutting cone to go in between his lips. "Suck hard!" she whispered. "You just don't know how good that makes a woman feel!"
She realized that, half-dressed, they were only half prepared for what they both wanted, so she lay back, letting him hang onto his mouthful of tit so that he came down on the bed with her, and raised her big, shapely butt off the bed to edge the dress out from under her. The boy was holding her breast in both hands squeezing it hard while he gave it a deliciously powerful suction. It was causing little fingers of fire to dance along under the skin of her belly, warming the free-flowing ' cunt that throbbed expectantly below. Without a word, she took one hand and gently moved it down to where it could stroke again in the thick growth of curly hair that covered her pussy.
At the same time, without disturbing him, she got his slacks unfastened and started down, along with his shorts, so that his beautiful young body was exposed down to mid-thigh. She could now get her warm hand all around his cock, and one finger extended back along its hardening length. She could press on the sensitive spot just ahead of his tight young ass-hole.
She could really feel his finger working in her nerve taut vagina. Probably two fingers, from the tension and the lovely rub she was getting in those soft, slippery folds. She remembered a choked-off remark he had made yesterday-"you're tighter than"-and grinned above his head as he finger-fucked her and tried to draw her entire big breast down his throat.
With a mother's hand, she stroked the dark hair, and whispered: "You're so good at this, Jeff, darling! You just seem to know exactly where it feels best to me. I'll bet you've done a lot of this before, haven't you?"
Through his haze of lust, which was not so intense, considering the demands that had been made on his young jism-secreting system, he heard the question. It pleased him deeply. More than just the flattery. Here was someone straightforward and honest. He didn't know one single solitary person he could confide in. Not one boy, not one man, or woman, or girl. Except this one.
He was aware that he had a big hard-on, and that, too, made him feel marvelous. He had read of how a man could not cum as often as a woman. And, in a vague way, he knew why. Women didn't really shoot out a load of cum like a man did. There was a female juice, and hot women poured out more the other kind. But the only three he knew of, which meant Mrs. Meredith, Rocky, and his sister, they all poured it out.
He remembered the similarity of taste between Rocky's cunt and her mother's. Rocky's was a little sweeter, a bit less musky, not quite as thick or as slick. But how about Sandy's? Wasn't it somewhere in between? In a hidden part of his mind, he suddenly thirsted to press his cheeks into the hairy softness of his young sister's twat and drink her cunt nectar. In a blind fog of desire, he drove his fingers deep up Mrs. Meredith's vagina, pushing against something hard and slick. She moaned and he felt ascendant and dominant, equal to any adult.
Coming when it did, his thought almost rebounded off what Sheri Meredith was saying: "Are you feeling all those hot, slippery things inside me, dear? They're all for you! Everything!" And her hand, as gentle as ever, pushed his foreskin back until the head of his cock was strained against its retaining cord. Thickly, he muttered: "I want to fuck!"
Made happily acquiescent by her deep-throbbing passion and by the manly sweetness of this lovable boy, Sheri said: "Oh, yes, my dear! Yes, yes, Jeff! Stick it in me! Fuck me! I want it so bad!"
Unconscious that she was doing so, she was undulating her strong, sleek body up and down in a sort of dry fuck, feeling her pussy juice flowing out between her swollen cunt lips, down into the humid and trembling crack of her ass. Her joy increased as she felt the strong body of the young kid crowd on top of her, mashing her tits into a pair of painfully ecstatic pillows of responsive flesh. He began to kiss at her blindly as he got on her, and his tongue hooked deeply into her mouth, clogging her throat with her spit and his. At the same time, she felt his hand holding her cunt lips open as he raised his narrow loins above her. It was fantastic what nature bestowed in the human mind without training or teaching. He was fifteen, and eased his cock into a grown woman with the ease and precision of an old lover.
The heat and size of it shocked her. Had he been this big, earlier today? Had she grown tighter? Either seemed impossible. As she fucked up at him, wild with the joy of a cunt completely filled and comfortably stretched, she knew the deep pleasure of utilizing all her muscles, all her nerves, to take from this moment all the fuck-delight it contained. He rose and thrust down in an easy rhythm, so that she was hardly conscious of how her powerful back and leg muscles were joining to lift his body, to catch him as he pounded down.
She had a book-well, it was Brooksy's book, really, but she loved it-that showed, she imagined, every possible way for a man and woman to enjoy each other. Or for woman and woman, for that matter, and man and man. One close-up shot, she found more interesting, more earthily wonderful, than the rest.
It was simply a shot across a woman's belly and crotch, from about the position and level of the pelvic point. Gravity made the model's rounded belly sink in, but the pubic arch made that hair-covered mound stand out in all its strength and beauty. The woman in the picture had a lot of dark hair, like Sheri. You had to imagine the warmth and human seepage of cunt juice in the unseen portions of the model's body. And to make the imagining more itchily, brazenly heat-raising, there was a man poised above the woman, and a big, hard cock was just pulling out of her cuntal orifice. It had to be pulling out. It was shiny and drippy with that clear fluid that lubricates a girl's vagina when she is being well fucked.
She saw herself in this light, in this position, as the model in such a photo, as her fuck-power grew and roared in the dark of her pussy, and as the cum-fire flared in her clitoris.
She was more deeply absorbed with what was happening to the responses of her body than with the boy and his feelings, but in a very tiny place in the back of her mind, she was thinking: Go on and cum, baby. Hurry up and cum. Let it all shoot out in my cunt, baby.
She began to be conscious of this connection between thought and action as she rose and rose toward the frantic, lovely, unbearable joy of a climax, realizing that her ass was fucking up and enclosing this boy in cadence with her mental chant. It annoyed her for a brief moment, then was lost in a flood of love for a fifteen-year-old kid who could fuck with such power.
She was still conscious of the exact look of her cunt and spread-out thighs and clenching butt as she thrust her vagina up his pole and smashed down, pressing it against the upper and lower rim of her cuntal entry. Deep red from the friction and the passion, with all those tiny veins on the surface of her inner lips engorged with the hot blood her heart was pumping.
And all this time, she was holding his body, fondling his muscular young back, feeling the light touch of his balls in her cleft as he rode her down, slamming his cock into her.
It could not go on any longer.
With a crazed scream of triumph, she began to pump her ass more furiously, forgetting his cock in the maze of her own sky-rocketing passions. "AAARRRGGGHHH! AAARRRGGGHHH! OH! OH! OH! OH! FUCK ME, BABY! POUR IT IN! OH, JEFF, YOUR COCK! DRIVE IT IN ME! Ohhhhhh! Ohhh! Oh! Oh, Jeff!" and her voice was very small. "Oh, baby, what a great, tremendous fuck!"
From the moment she had grasped his prick, it had felt good.
The double-dip he had enjoyed this very morning and afternoon, of fucking and sucking and sex play with this graciously formed, adult woman with her puffed out cunt and its wild growth of fragrant hair, had certainly not drained him. Neither had the unexpected, and could-be-but-wasn't unsettling weirdo adventure in the linen room.
But he had known, somehow, when he was raised to a cock-burning hard-on by this lovely woman's body and cunt and lips, that he would hold back his cum. That he could hold it back.
The pressures inside the tightly sucking, strongly gripping cunt, very apparent to his every nerve in spite of the wealth of cunt juice which flushed from every fold in her vagina, had given him glorious pleasure. Time after time, as he had so enjoyably smashed his cock against that hard, slick thing away up her pussy, he had felt the joy of orgasm creeping from his cockhead back to his balls. He had not tried to prevent it. But something had.
He knew a man's deep triumph in having made his lady cum with such wanton ecstasy. Her eyes were closed, and her face had the same quiet peace and joy and love as he had surprised on little Rocky, not half an hour earlier. Her mouth was smiling, its lips seeming slightly swollen. They had been sucking each other's tongues very hard. He pulled away a little and was overwhelmed with her earthy appeal. Her tits were like blown-up balloons, the blue veins seeming to move under the distended whiteness of her skin. And the nipples! Wow! They were so big! And so pressured by blood and passion that they looked purple.
He wanted to say something, but felt it would not be right. He had been afraid of this woman, whose sexual needs were as great and uncontrollable as his own, but whose kindness of heart equaled the heat of her cleverly nipping cunt. He now realized that she had not been giving him the grown up's ordinary shit they reserved for teenagers. She had meant it when she had said her body was all his, to do with as he liked. And of equal importance, that he could say anything he wished to say.
He kissed her again, tenderly, on the veined lids of her closed eyes, and then on her soft, opened lips. He could have shed tears from the emotion that swept him. He felt the slackening of her cunt muscles, and was filled with a deep pride when his strong young cock, as hard as ever, throbbed in her. As he kissed her, she whispered against his lips: "Oh, my dear! How wonderful you were! And how sweet!"
As if in reflex, he said, in the tones of a small boy: "And you said I could do or say anything I wanted to!"
She hugged him and laughed, and said: "You're the man with the cock. You say what you want to! Anything, baby!"
He giggled. "Will it hurt you if I take my cock out now?" he asked. "You see, I really don't know much about how ladies are, Mrs. Meredith."
She thought of all the bums-and some good guys, too, of course-who had called her "Sheri" on the shortest of acquaintance. But she didn't tell the young boy to call her by her given name. No, it was so very charming to have him call her "Mrs. Meredith" with just that touch of respect, while his cock was soaking in her vagina, and giving her such warm, intimate pleasure.
"I'll miss him, of course," she said. "But why do you want to pull him out? Doesn't it feel good in there? Am I getting too old and loose?" She bumped lightly up at him, enjoying the softly stirring feel in her juice-swilled pussy.
"No," he answered seriously. "I want to get my mouth down there. I feel a lot of that good old juice. I want to suck you. Do you think that will be all right?"
Heat came flooding back in the depths of Sheri Meredith's firm-muscled belly. She could swear she felt the pull and slide of her major cunt muscles. She thought of her clit, how ready it would be to fire a salvo of cum-shots, now that every nerve in her cuntal system was raw with gut-pleasure.
"Baby," she gasped, "you can have it all. Any way you want, any time you want it! Shall I pull up my knees like I did before? Point my drippy old pussy at the ceiling?"
He looked at her steadily. He remembered the pink, faintly-haired pussy of her eleven-year-old daughter, how it had looked over his face, how its nectar had flowed so sweetly down and into his joy-flushed mouth. "No," he said. "Get over me. I want to see how a grown-up lady's cunt looks when it's open."
In spite of her gusting swirl of fuck-fever, she caught on this comparison, and spoke softly: "I guess you've seen a lot of young cunts, haven't you, Jeffie, dear? Some with little teeny coats of hair? Or, maybe, no hair at all?"
She felt him stiffen and thought: Oh-oh! That struck a nerve. Watch it, Sheri. Don't turn him off now!
To save the moment, she immediately rolled over and up on her knees, and swung one big, smooth thigh across his face. "Of course," she said, "the hairless ones would be when you were, like, well, maybe eight or nine.-Right?"
Below and behind her, she heard him giggle and felt the light touch of his breath on the sensitive skin between her thighs, up near her pussy. "A guy-likes to look at 'em," he agreed, "even when they're too little to do much with."
You little bullshitter, the woman thought. They're never too little to do something with. And she shivered, a hard run of nerves going through her, for she thought of her daughter.
Under her, his eyes quickly adjusting to the semi-dark as Mrs. Meredith slowly lowered her fundament down toward him, was fascinated. The blood-swollen inner labia looked almost purple in the half-light, and his friend's position spread her cunt to its widest, just as if she had been lying on her back with her knees against her breasts. And her luxuriant growth of dark, curly cunt hair made a lovely frame for a mouth-watering picture. As he looked, he saw a convulsive movement in the pink clutch of slickness where her fuck-hole was, and knew she was anticipating the contact as much as he was.
"Come on," he cried gaily, and put his arms up around the firmness of her hips and back, loving the warm feel of smooth skin, the solidity of the mature body. His mouth flooded with saliva in anticipation, and he ran his tongue around his gums and into his cheeks.
His taste and tactile feel of the wide, smooth, dripping cunt was like a shock of fuck-fire. His cock, perhaps numbed by its long, hard use in fucking this same pussy, had seemed under control. But now he felt it jerk, and realized that the hottest experience a man can have is to see-and suck-a sweetly flowing, passion swollen cunt which is deliberately opened and pushed toward him for that very purpose. For a moment, he thought it might be more than he could handle. The cunt juice seemed thicker and more syrupy than before, certainly more so than the clear nectar from little Rocky's junior twat. But that was of course, the natural flow from a young girl. This was a mature, vigorous woman, generously endowed with sex power and sex need, so that her vagina worked furiously to prepare and give out the utmost in female lubrication.
And the first suck brought him an almost overflowing mouthful of the rich, rankly flavored ooze, while long, dark hairs, crisped with dried female cum, tickled his cheeks. He felt as if he had stuck his face into a firm, hot custard flavored with cream and highly aromatic cheese and seafood. But the softly slick poultice was of living flesh, reddened by heat flooded veins, grained like the lips on a woman's passionate mouth, but ten times slicker, smoother, softer. And ten times as savory.
He sucked hard, and felt the strong body above him shake with pleasure, and then Sheri instinctively pushed her ass forward to put her vaginal aperture at the boy's sucking mouth. He was in the midst of pulling in his cheeks to create as much vacuum as possible. His lips covered the prick-hole exactly, and his suction drew the woman's cunt walls tightly together.
Every nerve in her cuntal sheath was in a raging state of heat and cum-hunger, raw with the urgency of a shattering orgasm. Young Jeff's innocent mouth, acting instinctively, sucked a throat-clogging flood of cunt syrup which made him swallow, which, in turn, created a greater, following suck. And this, in its turn, seemed to burn the silently screaming nerves into a love-pain that ignited Sheri's hoarded fuck power into a blazing climax.
For a moment, as Mrs. Meredith's gasping mouth went down on his cock, and his nerves, screwed tighter as he gormandized on her cunt, Jeff almost shot his well-preserved load of jism.
He heard her long, ragged screams: "UNNNHHHH! UUNNNNHHH! UNH!" like the agonized grunts of an animal, and felt her soft, strong ass hammer briefly against his face. There was a new flow of clear, gamy cunt ooze, which he swallowed, and he felt the scrape of her mound and its cunt hair on his chin. But, when she relaxed her entire body, so that her soft, smooth belly was on his chest and her big, swollen tits lay alongside his narrow hips, she instinctively kept her flaccid pussy from smothering him. In fact, after a moment to let the red tide of lust subside in her grateful body, she gently rolled off, but still clung to his hard young cock, watching its red head throbbing and jerking.
"Well, Jeffie," she whispered brokenly, "you're some lover. I'm drained. It's so beautiful!" She tenderly kissed his young balls, lying hard-held against his cock in their wrinkled, hairless scrotum. "You must be tired. I know I am."
She laughed, in a soft and shaky run of pleased sound, her lips and throat moving as she held his prick close to her face. "Are you happy? Are you satisfied?" she asked in a low voice.
Jeff licked his lips. The gorgeous cunt, still hanging open in spite of Mrs. Meredith's change in position, looked like an enormous succulent flower, with thick, juicy petals of pink and purple flesh. It was held in a cup of thick tissue, hairy on the outside, softly, pinkly grained on the inside.
He reached down and squeezed the big, soft cones of firm titty-meat, his thumb and forefingers squeezing the hardened nipples, and a strange thought moved him to speak.
"I wish I could lie down and roll around in a room full of these," he said. "I wish I could suck milk out of them. It must be different from cows' milk. It must be stronger and richer. Women eat meat and cheese and fish and vitamins. Ohhhhh!" he moaned as he felt a fiery throb in his cock. "That's so hot! It's made me about to cum again!"
Sheri tenderly kissed his hard peter. The soft, thick foreskin was back, showing its wrinkled inner surfaces, as pink as a baby's lips. The scent and taste of her inner fluids were plastered on it, making it a more attractive dish than ever.
"Let me suck you off," she murmured softly. "Just lie still, baby, and let mama Sheri suck him off, real easy and quiet. Let me milk that good cream out of my baby boy's hard peter."
She was drooling with suck-lust, her titties throbbing from the boy's firm caresses and from her own vast shock of cum-fire moments before. Her throat ached for the thrust of his manly cock, the saline delicacy of boyishly plentiful jism. The craving made her moan, made her mouth flood with suck juice as her mouth lubricated with saliva just as her cunt slavered out its own juices. "Let me suck it," she begged.
The boy laughed as he turned toward her and fingered her highly sensitive cunt. "I will," he said. "But not this way."
He got up and walked over to a softly padded chaise, a luxurious piece which Brooksy had sent home from one of his many deployments to the Far Eastern waters. He lay back on the raised end, stretched his right leg out on the tufted blue satin, and let his left leg dangle off, his foot touching the floor, his thighs wide apart.
"There you go," he said, shaking his prick at the smiling woman. "like you said to me, it's all yours. Suck it!"
She was gorgeous in her gracefully negligent position on the thickly carpeted floor. She sat mainly on her left hip and thigh, her left side leaning on the chaise between Jeff's legs, her left hand holding his rampant cock.
As she licked her lips in anticipation, the boy reached out to stroke her head in a loving fashion, and she went down on him with such good will that her throat got a hard, jarring bump from the softly cushioned head of his hard meat. It raised him an inch off the chaise, and he moaned a long "OOOOOHHHHH!" of deep pleasure.
He leaned forward to reach under her arms, stroking in the perspiring damp of the hair which, in the fashion of today's youth, she had let grow. Brooksy had said to her, not too many years ago: "Baby, one thing that makes an American girl ten times as sexy as one of those Gooks is that they don't hardly have any hair on 'em at all! I've seen girls eighteen years old, or at least their parents claimed they were eighteen, that had cunts as bare as little Raquel's." So, while she loved the smoothness of shaved underarms, she felt that, on the whole, it was far better to be sexy. And young Jeff obviously agreed with Brooks.
She enjoyed sucking this boy's dick. There was the fiery wildness of her own cunt flavors on his cock. There was a lot of that super-smooth skin. She could even get her tongue under it, if she held it lightly with her lip-cushioned teeth, and run her tongue tip softly between skin and glans, making the boy twitch with indescribable pleasure. But she was getting into a problem. Her cunt was beginning to burn with a wet, sloppy, shivering itch because she loved it so. This cock. Or, as she acknowledged to herself, any cock. Why had she been so leery of having hit-and-run affairs while Brooks was gone? He was into sex, into that ivory-yellow, high-breasted, childishly cunted Vietnamese or Cambodia or Laotian pussy-bearers as soon as he could make a twenty-four-hour leave once they had tied up. He even went on dangerous little missions in small boats on the tidal rivers of those swampy countries. Those pitiable farmers, dying of hunger, cheerfully sold their barely nubile daughters to a boatload of sailors for a night or a week of gang-fucking.
Her cunt was slipping and sliding its muscles against each other, like an inverted snake looking for prey. And the sweet cock in her mouth only made her ache the greater. Because she had thought she was drained, and she wasn't. Her cunt glow was once more a roaring inner fire, sluicing hot pussy juice out of her opened lips and down her leg.
Now, Jeff was panting, and leaning forward so that he could milk on her titties with loving brutality, sending fiery little fingers of muted flame down to her belly, to her snatch. It gave her an idea.
She did not let his throbbing peter out of her mouth, but she got up on her knees, then onto the chaise, so that her beautiful ass, spread wide in all its divided feminine glory of puckering ass-hole and drooling cunt, was in the air. She grunted and moved so that her tits swung toward him, and he got the idea, grabbing them both in his strong young hands. She was bobbing her head faster, up and down on his cock, and she was deeply pleased that he got this signal, pulling at her titties in the same frantic cadence.
When she had this rhythmic and lovely feeling going just right, she straddled his leg and abruptly let her ass down on his outstretched leg. She was warmly, happily confident of what she was after. Not to have his toes go clear into her cunt. That was too much to hope. But there was his smoothly arched, ivory-skinned instep. Her entire pussy could cover it, wrap it, while she slid up and down it with all the slippery and itchy inner lips and inside of the outer lips found their cum-joy in the hard contact.
He groaned with hot interest as he realized what she was doing. And, since he had learned how much the mind and the power of speech add to human fuck-promise, he moaned: "Oh, mama! Oh, sweet Mrs. Meredith! Fuck my foot, baby! Fuck my foot! Whoa!" and he clutched her head. "Go back a little. Get my big toe right in your cunt hole! I'll wiggle my toes! Man, what a scene! Come on, mama Sheri, fuck and suck! Fuck and suck!"
She nearly screamed with the pain of bursting love as she maneuvered her flowing pussy over his toes. They went in, they touched her where she needed it most.
The boy was hunching up at her, feeling the imminence of the crazy and silent fuck noise gathering in his balls, in his rigid young cock. He wished he could swallow her, that she could swallow him. He felt her body grow tense, and felt her gorgeous vaginal muscle clamp on his wiggling toes while floods of her juice tickled tl eir way down the bare soles of his feet.
"Cum on, baby!" he yelled. "Oh, mar:, this is wild! OHHHHHHH! I'M CUMMIINNGGG!"
She felt the warm blasts of hot jism .hooting deep into her throat, with most of them coming back to fill her cheeks. She swallowed as fast as she could, and then tried simply going down on his jet-firing cock until it was way down into her gullet, and the wet, hot slickness was going into her belly naturally, without even swallowing, although some back-blast was lashing across her grateful taste buds.
Her cunt and belly were in a cramp from holding back her own fulfilling orgasm, but, as she felt his beautiful young cock throb out the last drops of his manly load, she let go.
Her aching clit had been rubbing up and down on his smooth instep, and almost his entire foot was slimy sweet with her pouring cum flow. Her thick cunt lips were around his foot as if they were trying to swallow it. His toes, sticky with the richness of her inner flow, had long since fallen from their inside contact with her palpitant vagina.
She was so immersed in this final blast of cumming that she could only gasp weak noises from her convulsing throat, her open mouth slack and spilling his jism out onto his flat belly. He thought she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
Her long, firm, heavy breasts lay alongside his thighs, with their nipples vastly swollen and intensely hard from the sweeping orgasm. Her dark hair tumbled over his body, and he could look down toward his feet, across the humid crack of her bountifully molded ass, and see the smoothness and beauty of her lovely thighs.
While he was drawing his breath, trying to get back to a normal heartbeat, he felt a soft, slithering touch on his belly and, looking down, saw Mrs. Meredith licking up the spilled swirls of his jism.
Before he went, his heart high with pride, he sat on the edge of her bed, his hand on her rump, gently stroking its firm, satin-smooth surface. She was tired with that exquisite tiredness that a hot-blooded woman feels after she has been given all the sex she needs. All the sucking, all the fucking, all the wild play that goes along with the enjoyment that men and women take in each other. It had been many years since she had felt this way.
"You really weren't planning to come back, were you, Jeffie?" she asked softly, smiling with her eyes closed. "Now, aren't you glad you did?"
"More than that," he whispered. "More than just glad. I never really thought you meant it, that I could do what I wanted to, say what I wanted to. Now, I think you mean it. All the time I've been sort of, well, scared when I thought about it. About fucking. And the rest of it. But you showed me that it's just a sweet, easy, loving thing to do." He looked very solemn, then brightened. "But I've still got a lot to learn. I mean, like about what you were saying. Other girls."
She squeezed his hand. "You need someone to talk to," she murmured. "Someone who knows, isn't that right? Okay. Any time you want to, come and talk to me. Any time. like tomorrow."
CHAPTER SEVEN
On the firm double bed in Sandra Stone's room, she and her young friend Raquel Meredith worked at a problem.
"I tell you, even if your mom never comes in without knocking, it scares me to do any more than just play stink-finger with you," the little blonde declared. "Not that that's such a big deal, after today!" She laughed. "I just can't believe it! Ooooohh!" She shuddered from an ecstatic memory. "The way a guy's cock shoots that stuff in your mouth! The way it tastes!"
She threw herself from her cross-legged position onto the large, soft breasts of the dark girl and kissed her, sucking tongues in a shock of sexual craving. "Oh, my God, Sandy! I think I'll go crazy if I can't have it again!"
She leaped and cried out as her friend reached under her slender bottom and dabbled sympathetic fingers warmly in the little blonde's flowing pussy. Her throbbing clitoris, the rose-pink inner labia that showed their fierce heat by their scarlet tracery of veins and their slobber of cunt juice, her girlishly tight vagina, all unified in a burst of carnal completion.
Only the fact that the two maturing children were hungrily French kissing kept the outcries of their mutual orgasm from reaching Nancy Stone in her sewing room, where she sat in pleasant contemplation of her children and the way they seemed to be growing up. Jeff is so considerate of his sister, she mused happily. And she is actually quite tender about him. None of the usual sibling abrasiveness. None of the battle of the sexes, which so many girls feel it's necessary for them to enter.
She even thought how sweet it was that Sandra, an older girl actually deep into pubescence, should continue her friendship with young Raquel Meredith. Almost two years older. And two years can make such a difference at their age. She permitted herself the dubious luxury of giving herself much of the credit. It's the mother, actually, who gives her life to the children, not the father. And, by setting an example of right living, gives kids a guiding light that will keep them safely on the right track.
At just that instant, after she had recovered from her sharp burst of orgasm, Sandra Stone gasped: "I'm so hot I could die! You're not lying to me, are you? Did Jeff really shoot his jism in your mouth? And did he-Goddamn it! I just can't believe it-he just couldn't have sucked you off!"
"If it wasn't so late, I'd stay here until Jeff gets home," the slender little blonde said, "and make him admit it!" She giggled mischievously. "You're just jealous that I got to him first!"
They were lying roughly face to face, their mini-skirts up around their waists, their trembling, oozing young cunts open to the cooling air. Each had a hand working languidly around or near the other's palpitating crotch, their two hearts thudding strongly, regularly, easing down from the heights of their mutual masturbation. The careless disarray of their young limbs, their rumpled clothing, their tousled hair, and the brightness of their expressions, so filled with sex and love, made a beautiful picture.
"I hate for you to go," Sandy whispered. "I wish you could stay all night. But we have to go to school tomorrow." She made a bleating little sound, not quite a sob, not quite a laugh. "I could just play pussy-pussy with you all night long!"
She rose and turned, inflamed by the thought, and planted a kiss wetly on the tiny girl's warm belly. "You do have more cunt hair," she whispered, running her fingers through the baby-fine fringe of yellow hair. "And your cunt lips are so fat! As big as mine! I'll bet they're as big as mom's."
"Not as big as my mom's," Rocky laughed shakily. "Man, has she got 'em! I've seen her when she doesn't think I'm looking-when she doesn't even know I'm there, to tell the truth-and, wow! Big and thick and slick. And real dark red." She felt a twinge of ambivalence. She loved her mother as much as a teen or sub-teen can, but there were so many areas of conflict, real and self-induced, between a mother and daughter. But she forgot this and her slight young loins humped convulsively forward as her older friend suddenly kissed down between her thighs, between her smooth, fat young cunt lips.
"Oh, golly, kid!" she breathed huskily. "Don't start up if we can't finish! I'd suck your pussy like an orange, except I'm so scared your mom'll bust in here!" But she clamped her fingers in Sandy's dark hair, thrusting her twitching, burning little cunt at her friend's face.
They were both startled by a soft knock on the door, a pleasant voice softly calling: "Sandra! I'm going downtown to pick up your father! He's leaving his car for some work tonight. Do you hear me?"
The dark girl with the large, soft titties winked at her little friend. "Sure, Mom, I hear you. Can I do anything for you while you're gone?" Silently, she mouthed, to Rocky: "See? I told you."
"No, thanks, dear," Nancy Stone said, obviously delighted at her child's response. "You and Rocky have fun. Rocky, will you be all right? Shouldn't you call your mother?"
"Naw, Mrs. Stone," the little girl brazenly remarked, sitting braced against her arms, her cute, pink pussy open and emitting its sticky little contribution of white cum juice. "Mom doesn't worry about me."
Not like I do about my little chick, Nancy Stone thought virtuously. She sighed. She just hoped that that Navy wife, at least occasionally, took the time to try and give her child some spiritual values. She subscribed wholeheartedly to the greeting card platitude that God, knowing he couldn't be everywhere, had created mothers. And thus, having accepted being deputized as a surrogate God, she not only surrendered the conventional idea of His omipresence, but took on part of His role in judging other mothers.
"Boy, is she something," Sandra whispered as they heard Mrs. Stone shut the front door and, in a moment , drive away. "Strictly from another planet! Well, come on. What are you waiting for?"
And she shucked her clothes off, proud of the size and weight and rosy delights of her young breasts. "Wow! As those dumb Jack LaLanne ads say, I want your body!"
Jeff Stone owned a measure of pride and content which he had never thought he would experience. In just two days, hardly more than one twenty-four-hour period, really, he had, although he would not realize this for years to come, a concentration of sexuality that few men ever know. "I can't believe it," he whispered to himself as he wheeled his bike into the Stone driveway, and back to the garage, where he affixed the lock to it.
He saw the light in his sister's room. He had seen his mom backing out into the street as he had come around the corner, and had slowed to let her get out of the way. For all he knew, women could sense what had happened to a guy. Maybe his mom could smell the sweet incense of cunt all around him. It seemed to him that it clung to his hair, to his clothes, to his fingers. Especially to his lips and cheeks and nose.
His sneakers were silent on the concrete drive, and he heard the sound of Sandy's voice. "Talking on the phone," he judged, and hoped he could slip into her room and find her lying on her belly.
He knew from his peeping that she seldom wore panties unless their mother forced her to. Now, aroused to new confidence by all that had happened, and, at least waveringly, believing that Mrs. Meredith had meant that all girls wanted fucking, and that "all girls" meant his sister, he felt that he could look Sandy in the eye and say: "Let's fuck."
Although, of course, he knew he couldn't ever do that. No matter what Mrs. Meredith said. He couldn't even say that to her, until after they'd gotten, uh, pretty well warmed up. Until she had said it, really. And he knew Sandy'd never say that.
He opened the door noiselessly, the door into the house.
He need not have been so careful. The girls would have noticed nothing short of a Greyhound bus driving through the bedroom. Mouth to cunt, lips burrowing into gooey pink channels of juicily responsive membrane, tongues curling fiercely into fluttering little pink cunt holes, they were happily far beyond the weight and care of reality.
In the darkness of the living room, Jeff could see the wide bar of light in the hall that said Sandy's bedroom door was open. And he could not hear her voice. He was disappointed. He had had a picture of her in his mind, lying prone, her neat mini-skirt well up on her plump thighs. And no panties on. And he would tiptoe in, softly, and plunge his hand right into the humid crack between those lovely young ass-cheeks. Into the sweetly overflowing pussy he had fingered last night. In among the velvety folds swimming in their own gamy cunt juice. In among those mysteriously lovely pads of soft, grainy tissue that were anchored just inside a woman's cunt.
Why not? Mrs. Meredith had them. She had urged him to finger all around inside, to explore, to ask questions. And she had humped and bumped and squealed in grown-up joy, excitedly saying:
"Rub me with your thumb, baby! Right up by my-OHHHH! GOD!-my CLIT! OHHHH! Oh, baby!" and she had comfortably bumped away. Another cum. He felt proud. Now, he wanted to do that with his sister. Of course he wouldn't dare say to her: "Let's fuck." But maybe, just maybe, if he got his finger into her bubbling, juicy little cunt, she would say it.
He had gradually inched his way nearer his sister's bedroom door, puzzled and wondering where she had gotten to, when he heard a very slight sound, like the sucking noise a tiny baby makes when he wants to nurse. And along with it, to his keen and delighted, ears, a girlish voice saying: "God! I wish we could fuck!"
It was his dream come true. He would not have . to say what he wanted so much to say. It was already said. His cock, mysteriously, had hardened almost instantly as he had paused under Sandy's window and heard her talking, as he thought, on the telephone. He had never ingested any of the negative ideas fed into the minds of young boys about "depleting" themselves. Instead of the prissy, sissy books on the "What A Young Man Ought to Know" order, he had hotly delved into the skin mags and pseudo documentaries concerning a variety of sexual relations offered by the so-called "adult" bookstores near the Naval Training School. He did not fear that the wonderful fuck power in his young nuts might be damaged by use. Or overuse. As long as it would come up, he flogged his exuberant prick when bright mental pictures made him desire a cum. Now, so beautifully sucked into the realities of sex, which were certainly a hundred times better, his young gonads were instinctively and happily working overtime to replenish his seminal reservoirs.
If he had said it to himself once in the past two days, he had said it a hundred times. Devotionally, worshipfully. "I can't believe it!" He could not know that little Rocky, and his sister Sandra, and his loving friend Mrs. Meredith, had all cherished the same thought in their minds. It had had a magical quality for all of them. And now, as he stood outside Sandy's room, letting his belt go loose, pushing down his slacks and shorts, hearing the echo of that lovely, sweet voice: "I wish we could fuck!"
He was not stricken dumb when he went swiftly into his sister's room, so swiftly that he was by her bed before he realized it was not one naked body, but two, that writhed there. It had been two days of unbelievably wonderful happenings. Why should another unbelievable joy seem impossible?
The two girls were startled out of their wits. Far from being utterly safe, as they had believed, they were utterly vulnerable. And, much as they were into this bit of hotness and wantonly lascivious sex, they had the immediate feminine anger at being "caught" by a boy.
"You nosy creature!" Sandy shouted. "You mean, spying old boy!" And she had used little Rocky as she would have used a sheet or a blanket, pulling the slight but feminine body over her own nakedness like a shield. But her fury was diluted by her own lust, and by the near, clear sight of that delicious spear of flesh which she and her young friend had been hungering for. And Rocky, too, was dashing her anger away with her laughter.
Indeed, it was Rocky who showed the most presence of mind.
"I saw it first," she gasped, looking up at Jeff from under her light, long eyelashes, and holding his cock. "I get first dibs on this old peter!" and she smothered her own light laugh of joy by swallowing all of the hard prick that she could.
And young Jeff, suddenly freed from fear, rolled over between his sister's beautifully rounded thighs, hugging them to him, holding them apart, and rooting slickly among the hairy outer lips to find the moist, crinkled, pinkly delicious valley of flowing flesh, sucking passionately on the raw nerves in his sister's already trigger-quickened young cunt.
He closed his eyes to enjoy the delights of it, the richness of taste, the intensity of fragrance. It was so like Mrs. Meredith's, so like little Rocky's. And still, it had a difference. And the soft, wet young lips he mouthed, they were so tender and sweet.
Blindly, he flung his free hand up and Sandra took it, kissing it, licking between his fingers, herself so blind with sudden fuck lust that she did not even know she was sucking an older woman's cunt-flavors from the webbing of her brother's digits. And then there was the deep heat that seemed to spread all about her loins, racing up her belly to her boobs. Or was it the other way around? She feverishly pressed her brother's hand on her young, soft titty, flooding it with an ache of such intense beauty that she moaned in ecstasy.
And then she felt her shoulder being pushed and her hair pulled. And there not too far from her face, she saw the rapidly humping lower torso of her friend Rocky, and realized in her red haze of lust that the blonde child was sucking Jeff's cock. It was too much for her.
She felt so beautiful, herself, spread out in such a marvelous fashion by her brother's curly, dark head while his tongue licked her cunt so feelingly. Her big, heavy young breast was so gorgeously being plucked and squeezed by his hand. And she was on the ragged edge of a cum more wonderful, she believed, than any she had ever known.
She did the only thing she could do.
She dived directly at the nearly hairless pussy that was opening and closing convulsively right at her face. She took it all in, or as much as her mouth would hold. She got the fat outer lips, sucking them so hard she felt them slide through her teeth and then out. And then her hard young tongue was battering into the purple-pink cluster of swollen inner labia, down to the open but miniature fuck hole, and she was sucking Rocky's cuntal opening so hard that the feverish vaginal walls were rasping together from her loving suction.
She felt the blonde child heave as the trigger of cumming blasted in the juvenile cunt. With her lips and tongue, she felt a humming vibration, and knew that Rocky was screaming silently around the choking cock in her mouth.
She felt her own pussy seem to turn inside out, every nerve in it joining in a mutely gorgeous scream of sensitivity and love. Oh, God, wasn't her brother great? How could he know to do these things? Her body tried to fuck into his face in a way that would engulf him cuntwise, draw him into her young belly entirely, so that she could feel him forever, turning and squirming inside her unbelievable cunt.
But the most gorgeous surprise that the girls had was that Jeff had not cum.
"You're fantastic!" they told him in their admiring, high voices, frigging his cock, kissing him with their cum-smeared mouths, holding their young breasts to his mouth to get his swallowing, sucking kisses. They were all quite mad, until there was a sweep of headlamps by the lightly curtained window, a whiz of tires and the slight squeak of braked rubber.
For a moment they were transfixed by fear and indecision, but Jeff, forced to act as leader, gasped: "Grab your clothes up and get into 'em in the bathroom!"
He dashed into the hall and retrieved his pants and shorts, and ran into his own room, where he turned on the lights, singing all the while in a loud voice about the mysteries of love.
He even stuck his head out his door to shout: "Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!" as his parents came in, and heard his dad's gentle reply: "Oh, hello there, Jeff!"
His hard-on had disappeared as miraculously as it had come. He did not know it, but he would suffer no stone-ache. He had had his share of sex for today. He might like to think about it, he might even be able to perform if the occasion arose. But he did not need any.
He had had it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday was a dreadful day for Sheri Meredith. She had run into a moral and emotional impasse which involved her own child and the oldest child of her neighbor and nodding acquaintance at occasional school functions, Mrs. Nancy Stone.
As many service wives do, she felt a sort of inherent antagonism toward civilians. Since their husbands, in the main, made more money than Navy men, at least from the rank of Chief on down, Sheri felt that those civilian wives were snooty. Or that they tended to laugh at service wives behind their backs.
But, as she reviewed it, she could not have gone to Nancy Stone about this matter, even if the other woman had lived in Building Eleven, Nimitz Park, and was the wife of some other Navy Chief.
She had hardly slept a wink last night. She had never believed she could be dominated by a child, especially by her own little daughter. But Raquel had been so, well, cruel. Cruel was the only word that would fit. At first she, Sheri, had been furious. "I should have slapped her right on her pretty little ass when she called me an old cunt," Sheri said viciously, her fists clenched. "Coming in and kissing me and almost spitting in my face! Saying she tasted jism when she kissed me!" She had to stop talking to herself. Her voice was breaking and she was very close to tears.
For the umpteenth time, she relived the horrible, painful, shocking scene.
She had languidly enjoying the tingling, full sensation of having had the greatest sexual experience of her life. Lying on her big bed, looking at the big-screen color TV set that Brooksy had brought home from Japan on the tour before last. Her breasts were, she knew, larger and firmer than they usually were. This was always true, a week before her period. But it was nine or ten days before she was due. And anyhow, this was different. The old boobs were swollen and tender, but in a much more sexy way than when she had the rag on. Or had the plug up her, would be more like it, but she still, in occasional lapses, used the term that Brooksy had used when she first knew him. When she was Sheri MacAndrew, working as a part of the civilian force at a Navy installation downtown.
She felt her breasts now, her tear-stained face lugubrious. She had been so happy in that hour or two after Jeffie had left, and before Rocky had come home.
"Little bitch!" Sheri hissed now, remembering. But it was so hard to stay mad at your kid, your little daughter. Even if she had been so mean, so hurting.
So there Sheri was, just reminiscing, feeling so wonderful. It wasn't just that Jeff, in his enthusiasm, his-what could you call it?-maybe it had to be called innocence. Because honestly, the sweet little old hard-petered baby, he didn't know feces about sex. Just instinct. But Jesus Christ, what an instinct! It wasn't just that, through him, she had enjoyed more sex than she had known in a like period for years. To be truthful, it was more and better sex than she had known in all her life.
She acknowledged it without regret for her years with Brooksy, without sadness over the fact that it could not last. She had just caught a young kid at exactly the right time, when he was running around in what Brooksy called the "red-petered stage." Horny all the time, and having absolutely no idea of what to do about it. Afraid to talk to girls his own age. Scared cockeyed to go to some whore downtown, for fear of getting clapped up. Not hep enough to go to a massage parlor. And anyhow, ten bucks to a hustler, or fifteen to a masseuse who could not, on the whole, be called five dollars better, that was a hell of a lot to a kid, even one who carried the Tribune and made himself a hundred or more a month.
No, what he needed-and he had been lucky, just as she had-was an older woman, one who would teach him, give him her mature, knowledgeable, and, she flattered herself, sweetly tight cunt and guide him into all the uses he could make of it. To guide his natural instincts into the sweetness of lapping at her blood-gorged labia, her throbbing clit, even as she took his sweet young cock into her knowing mouth and released the feverish load of slickness from his balls.
What he needed! Her heart had been so light, thinking of how she was providing him with so much that was good for him. Someone to keep him from living in uncomfortable fear of the girls in his own class at school, his own neighborhood. Someone to talk to when he was in doubt, or scared, or confused.' Why hell, he could even come to her if, in some little old affair with some kid, he picked up a dose. A Medic on the station, an old friend of hers, had told her that, on the nights he moonlighted in a small civilian hospital, taking night calls for a doctor in San Diego, he saw ten cases of V.D. on a good night. "If it goes on this way," he had laughed, "everyone between fifteen and twenty will have clap within five years."
That was really all she had wanted. To help Jeff. To let him know things. And, naturally, to fuck him and suck him. Didn't he need that, too? Didn't all boys that age need that?
Yes, she had been feeling marvelous. Not getting hot and cunt-slobbery, since she had had her ashes hauled so well and so often. She must have cum fifteen times altogether, counting that first day, and then again, on that wonderful yesterday. Fifteen? More like twenty. Oh, she was stoked, a little, but really, just warm and nice, in a happy sort of way. And with her boobs so full and so tingly, so warm and sensitive. God, they'd felt as if they weighed ten pounds apiece! And it was a good feeling, having them so alive and firm and with her nipples swollen and poking out like hard little old pricks.
"What the hell business was it of Rocky's if she was naked? And playing with her tits? The little snot had had no business walking in on her like that. And being so sneaky. Because it was weird, the way little Raquel had changed.
She had come in with her head high and almost prancing, her head high like when she had tried out for majorette at the junior high school. And happy. And paying no attention to her mother being naked. Why the hell should she? "She's seen me bare-assed a million times," Sheri said chokingly, remembering last night and its pain and meanness.
What had happened? Little Rocky had actually been more affectionate than usual. She had dropped on her knees by the bed, not even noticing that her mother was naked, or that she was having a bit of innocent pleasure squeezing her titties and thinking of Jeffie. "And when she kissed me," Sheri whispered, once more thinking hard about last night, "it was weird. So loving. Almost as if she was going to tongue me. Crazy!"
And that was when the stuff hit the fan.
From a warm, loving daughter, that silly little kid had turned mean as a snake.
"You old whore!" she had cried, leaping up, with her words striking Sheri harder than a man's fist. "You old cunt! Sucking that innocent little old kid! Don't worry, I know what jism tastes like, too! You could've at least washed out your cock-sucking mouth!" like someone gone completely crazy, and with Sheri totally unable to do anything to control her because, to tell the truth, Rocky's words had just simply mowed her down.
So, she had let the kid rip, and kept her own mouth shut, and was able to piece it together. Rocky was jealous! Sheri knew crazy jealousy when she saw it. But when and how had her little kid had time or opportunity to do all she claimed?
"I've sucked him off, too," she had screamed. "Why do you have to pick on a little kid? I saw him first! I knew him a long time before he came by here to hustle you for a subscription! I'm the one who had him come by! And you grabbed him!"
On this Friday, so many sad hours after that awful scene, Sheri still couldn't make head or tail of it. How had Rocky known so much about her mother's harmless little business with that kid? "Don't think you're getting away with it," the child had stormed. "I know all about you! Fucking Jeff and sucking him! All over the house!"
And she, Sheri, had been so damn mad at that big-mouthed little kid that she had at last screamed: "Get out of here, you dirty little bitch! Before I pinch your head off and flush you down the commode!" And Rocky had gone to her room, looking strangely pleased with herself. And later, when Sheri had cooled off and knocked on the girl's door, she'd had no response.
And now, with the poor little kid away at school, there was nothing she could do. Only feel bad. And all that lovely warmth and sweetly tickling itch gone out of her big old sloppy cunt, and her boobs just felt big and sore. And when Jeff came around this afternoon-if he did come around-how could she even look at him? Because Rocky had made it pretty plain that Jeff had blabbed about it. Else how would the kid know that she and the boy had fucked all over the place?
But Jeff was just as excited and full of life and love as Sheri was sad and self-pitying. He had gone to bed so filled with the joys of being male that he would have sneaked in and shoved it into his sister's marvelously mature cunt. The taste and ripeness of it had been amazing. And to suck her, to nibble and lick in that soft, slick cluster of little folds while the other chick had been sucking his cock, wow! What a feeling! But he hadn't even cum. Either it was iron control, or he had had his quota of pussy, of cumming, for that day.
He grinned, thinking about it, getting a deep, stirring feel in his cock, a hard throb, a swelling that promised a real good hard-on. And last night, well, even if he didn't cum in Rocky's face, even if he didn't go in when the folks were settled, and stick it into his sister's warm, wet pussy, it was okay.
There was a reason for not going into Sandy's bed and getting his good old cock into Sandy's hot little pussy.
He had fallen asleep!
So he really must have had all he needed. Now, he felt like a big man, really grown up. He shrugged. "Of course," he muttered, "I've still got some things to learn." But he knew where he could learn them. And as soon as he threw his last paper-"my next-to-last paper," he corrected himself with a grin-he'd start learning some of them.
Sandy had sure played it cool. She was giggling about it as she walked along Rosecrans Boulevard with Rocky. "I acted just like I always do at breakfast," she said. "I'm usually kind of grumpy, so I didn't even talk to Jeff. But when mom went out to the car to drive dad downtown, and Jeff and I were out in the driveway, I gave him a kiss that must've raised him two feet off the ground!"
"I feel sort of like a shit," the tiny blonde girl said. "I just blew my top with mom. You know, getting off with you sucking me out, but not getting Jeff to cum in my mouth-well, it just seemed as if he had gotten drained by my mom. And I was in a kind of funny mood. You know, feeling like mom had always put me down. You know how grown-ups do that to you. And sneaking away while she was in the bathroom. I even threatened to phone my dad in Nam, or wherever he is, and tell him all of it."
She grinned. "You know why I couldn't do that," she said knowingly. "I'd have to tell him how come I know so much about what cum-juice tastes like."
The two children laughed helplessly, standing on the sidewalk with their books, hanging all over each other. But they stopped suddenly when Sandra said: "But, kid, you told your mother!"
The beautifully childish face of the smaller girl went through changes, from laughter to stillness to sadness, and big tears swelled in her blue eyes. She turned to Sandra and put her hand on the dark girl's arm. "I just remembered something," she choked out. "Why I didn't mind mom knowing! I've got to go home!"
"Hey, wait a minute," Sandra exclaimed. "Did you forget? My mom's downtown shopping. She'll be gone all afternoon. We can have the whole house to ourselves!" She pouted, unconsciously thrusting her pelvis forward in mute offering of her concealed vulva and all her juicy goodies. "I'm sort of hot, baby!" she said. But Sandy had to go home alone. And puzzled.
She really had wanted to get Rocky to find out something. She knew that she couldn't ask her mother such a thing. Because she wanted to find out if a girl could have a baby if it was her brother that shot off inside her cunt. And also, could a girl her age take the Pill without her mother being able to tell. And she had a feeling that Rocky could ask her mother.
CHAPTER NINE
Girls were hard to understand. At least, real young girls were. Jeff Stone felt that he had had some kind of release, after he kissed little old Rocky Meredith good-bye in the linen room. Just a nice sort of kiss, too. He had tried to get his tongue into her mouth, and he had gotten his hand up her dress and his fingers into her tight, slippery little cunt. But she had just smiled at him and pulled away. "
"I want you to tell mom something," she had said. "That's why I waited for you here. So we could talk about it." But he wondered. She could have talked about that kind of thing right out on the sidewalk. And she really had pumped her cute little old body against him in a rapid-fire fucking motion when he had stuck his two fingers into her pussy and wiggled them around.
"Just tell mom you saw me down on Rosecrans," the sweet little kid had begged. "Honest, Jeff, I mean it. On Rosecrans. And I was with Sandy, and tell her I love her."
"Hey, I can't do that," the boy had protested. "She'll think I'm nuts!"
The little blonde had really hugged him, then, rubbing her tits on him, smiling, laughing. But why were the tears running out of her eyes?
"Never mind why I'm crying," Rocky said. "Tell mom I never meant what I said. You hear me? Tell her I love her, and that I never meant a word of what I said last night."
She pushed him out of the linen room, but said: "Hey!" and he turned back. "Remember, you saw me on Rosecrans and I was with Sandy. Going home with her. And I won't be back for, oh, three hours; Don't you forget it!"
He was frankly puzzled, in the way a young guy is when he first is conscious of the peculiar differences in a girl's way of thinking as compared to his own. But he was as happy as a boar with nine sows. All afternoon for Mrs. Meredith. Or anyhow, three hours.
CHAPTER TEN
"Can you come in for a few minutes, Jeffrey?" Mrs. Meredith asked him. She seemed sort of funny. like she was afraid to be herself, scared, or ashamed, or something nutty. And he thought: Oh-oh, she's got some company here and has to be careful what she says.
Nevertheless, he came in, acting as polite as the woman did, but wondering what was going on. He looked and listened, and when he didn't see or hear anyone, he went up close to her and put his hand right where he'd been thinking of. Right on her pussy. He could feel the hair on it, too, right through her dress, and he could feel the warmth that made it so lovely. It made him want her, too, and his hard-on, which had been with him at least to some degree all the long day, and had jumped up more when he had gone into the linen room and stuck his finger in little Rocky's cunt-well, it just really came on strong.
"Gee, Mrs. Meredith," he said, not feeling that his voice was choking, the way he had felt yesterday, "I sure am glad to see you!" And he had hugged her, getting his skinny but strong young arms around her beautiful hips, his hands meeting in the warm valley between her ass-cheeks. He was just so full of fuck-joy that he could have shouted out loud. But he felt she was troubled about something, so all he did was press in deep with his fingers, where he knew her sensitive places were, her cunt and her ass-hole, and nuzzle his face real hard into the softness of her big breasts. He could feel their warmth on his face, and he made cooing noises unconsciously, because there was, maybe fourteen years deep in his fifteen-year-old psyche, the urge to suck and suck on those nobly carved titties, to break the old, dry seal that hid their milk, to get his soul's nourishment from her body.
Without meaning to, without knowing why she did it, Sheri Meredith picked the boy up like a baby, crooning to him, while tears coursed down her cheeks. She felt a thousand years old.
She went into the bedroom and lay down, still holding the slender boy. He was puzzled but happy. There was some mystic tie-up between them where the mother and the mother-cunt and the mother-breast all wanted him. Neither could have stated it, neither, perhaps, could have understood it. Nevertheless, both were internally moved by it.
So that somehow, no one could say exactly when it happened, her simple wrap-around dress became simply a large oblong of fabric on the bed, and there was a gorgeously naked woman lying on it, holding a boy whose hard-on proved that he wasn't a baby.
"I shouldn't be doing this," Sheri moaned, but her hand was jacking the loose skin on Jeff's dick up and down, with so gentle a hand that it was like a baby's kiss. And he, having no idea what vultures tore at her insides, gleefully found his buttons and his zipper, and rolled out of his clothes, too.
There was still that deep mystery of mother-fucking on them both, and this was a different sort of meeting than they had known on the two previous days. Jeff, for example, was not so quick to bury his salivating mouth in Sheri's cunt, and she, still moaning softly: "I shouldn't be doing this," made no effort to force any joining any more sexual than the mere fact of having their bare bodies warmly together. And young Jeff went along with this tenderness without having the least idea that it was because he loved her and wanted her to get over the unhappiness she was showing.
But even the most noble of motives can be washed out in cunt juice, or cancelled by that itchy stiffness in a boy's cock. Tears or no tears, Jeff's happiness made him start kissing Sheri along her arm, up in her armpit where dark hair held the earthy humanity of her sweat-scent, and from there it was only a short move to suck one of the dark, hard nipples into his mouth.
She was so moved by it that she sat up. He drew back, puzzled but smiling. "I want you," he whispered. "I want to get it into you, into your cunt!"
She held him against her, rocking back and forth. "What have I done to you, Jeffie?" she whispered hoarsely. "I only meant to help you, to give you what you needed." His hand did not notice what she was saying, it went straight down into the warm and hairy nest where her thick cunt lips, popped open by her cross-legged position, exposed the sweetness and smoothness between them, and his eager fingers went into the warmth and the slickness, creating a shudder of sensuality all through her.
"Baby, we can't," she moaned. "I'm afraid I've caused you trouble. I have to send you away before Rocky gets home."
He leaped away from her, smacking the heel of his hand to his forehead. "How dumb can you get?" he groaned. He leaned down and kissed one of her breasts and raised up, smiling.
"I saw Rocky," he said. "She's gone to my house with my sister. She said to tell you-uh, to tell you-listen, this makes me feel like a fool, you know. But she said to tell you that she loves you. Honest, she really did!" he cried, for the woman put her face in her hands and began to sob. "She said-hey, now, listen to me, hear?" and he put his hand on her warm, naked shoulder pleadingly. "Listen. She said she never meant a word of what she said last night. Does that make any sense?"
There was suddenly a deeper feeling in the heart-in fact, in all the vital parts-of Sheri Meredith than she had ever known before. Where she had felt the weight of years, she was now light with the fires of youth. Where her breasts had simply felt oversized and sore, they now seemed as light as balloons, as delightfully sensitive as a young girl's on her first period. But there was no fierceness in her as she reached for Jeff, only a deep tenderness.
"My baby," she said, and opened her mouth to let his tongue in, sucking it gently, then probing with her tongue all around in his cheeks and against his smooth gums. She had his cock in her hand, stroking it gently, in no hurry. When they drew apart, she stroked his cheeks, looking at him with all her love in her face. "What do you want me to do?" she asked softly. "I don't mean anything wild. I'll do it, whatever you say, but is there something you need to know?"
He laughed and pushed her back on the bed. "I want to do a lot of things," he said. "But we don't have to hurry, do we? And you feel okay, now, don't you? Why were you worried about Rocky? Or about me?"
She looked up, seeing the seriousness back of his smile.
"Rocky was mad at me last night," she said simply. "She said a lot of bad things. She claimed she knew all about-well, about you and me."
He looked his unbelief, and she held his arm. "You didn't tell her anything, did you?" she asked. "No, don't answer. I know you didn't. You couldn't."
He leaned down and kissed this older woman, this naked mother figure, on her gorgeous belly, as smooth and warm and beautifully fashioned as his young sister's. "She tricked me, that same way," he said. "I think that, uh, someone else told her something I may have done." She had never known him to be evasive before, and it tickled her. He needed to know something, but he was going to have to be very careful.
"You fucked her," she said gently. "At least, I hope you did. You know, you said, the first time-no, it was later-you said to me: 'You're tighter than ... and then you stopped and said something else. Were you going to say I was tighter than Rocky?"
"No! Not that!" He was shouting. "I never touched her until yesterday." He grinned. "Would it be okay with you if I had stuck it in her?" he asked, eyeing her sidewise. "Did you mean it when you said you wished I had fucked her?"
In a quiet way, he had been finger-fucking the older woman, and it just felt so warm, so good, that she could have cum, just from the sheer good sensation of it, the abounding, easy, warm sensuality of having this boy's long, slender fingers stretching the tenderest part of her cunt. And her body was moving in cadence, not hard and fast, just a sinuous weaving, as if she was trying to rub the heart of her cunt against his hand. Both were intent on the feeling they were getting, but not to the exclusion of other things.
"Rocky sucked me off," he said simply. "She had heard that it was a hot thing to do, and that it tasted good. She said she knew about you and me, and about me and, well, someone else that I barely know. like, well, she lied about part of it."
He was so fussed that her heart went out to him. Her cunt was wrapping around his fingers, and her inner muscles were softly sucking at his knuckles. "You'll tell me all about it some day," she whispered. "If you want to. And if you don't want to, that's all right, too. You know that, don't you? If I don't get upset about you and Rocky-why would someone else make a difference?"
The boy blushed, and Sheri let it go. Something he was afraid about, or ashamed of. She wouldn't press him. Instead, she whispered: "That feels so good! Do you know, Jeffie, that you're the youngest boy I ever did these things with? You sure seem to know where my hot-feeling places are. How come?"
He bent down and kissed her gently, and his free hand held one of her deeply sculptured breasts, squeezing it tenderly, the big nipple sticking out dark and hard between his fingers.
"I read some of it," he said, and giggled. "And you told me some of it. Yesterday or day before. Is this a good place?"
He was sitting alongside her left hip, directly above her, and his fingers could go straight down, deep into her sheath. He was feeling around in the sloppy-warm folds, and her fine muscles were moving up and down along his fingers, making him laugh as he felt their kiss. He was actually touching her guts, and she felt the sweet-sick pain that was so marvelous. To know she was a woman, with that wonderful place where a hand-or a cock-could penetrate into the blood-heat of her belly.
Her outer lips were spread by her heat, their slick inner folds looking slippery and dark red, so beautiful and hot looking in their rich frame of dark curly hair. His cock was hard and ready, and he looked at this woman's genitals and loved them, knowing that she was, in real truth, giving him a great deal. He knew that she was getting what she wanted, too, but he also knew there were just a hell of a lot of women who had it to give and didn't give it. And wouldn't.
Her belly muscles were moving in a sort of rhythm with the inner caress he felt on his fingers. He looked at her and saw that her eyes were closed, the tiny blue veins standing out in the fine skin of her eyelids.
Moving gently, he got on his knees and bent over her crotch. His fingers were wide enough and her cunt was tight enough so that some of the vein-reddened lining pulled out, slick and warm with her cum-fluids. And in the exposed valley of flowing, wet inner lips, he saw the rigid end of her tiny fuck-stick, the tiny little replica of a man's prick, the center of woman's sensitivity. And he bent and kissed it, sucked it, with all the tenderness in his essentially pure young heart.
It was so wonderful to Jeff, making this marvelous woman cum so good, so strong, and still without all that wildness and hollering. It was sort of like he was, yesterday, when he got her to suck him off, after he had fucked her and sucked her. Only then, she was fucking herself up and down his leg, and hadn't her cunt ever felt good and sloppy and warm! Wow! But he just kept his fingers moving gently inside his wonderful friend, smelling the musky richness that is found only in a healthy, hot woman's pussy, and tasting the lovely wildness that matches the cunt-smell.
Her hand on his head was light, and she was not yelling, just gasping out little cries that told him how great he was doing her, how good he was at sucking her off. And her juice was shooting out over his fingers so that he could suck some of it up, making that silly noise you get when a shake is down to the bottom, and the straw is making those bubbly sounds. Cunt! God! It was so marvelous! And nobody mad at anybody. That girl, that Rocky! Boy, was he ever going to stick his dick into her little old baby cunt first chance he got! And he sucked at her mother's happily throbbing clitoris, drinking the rich flow of her cunt ooze, jamming his fingers deep into her.
His wrist was cramped and his fingers numb when, at last, Mrs. Meredith's body stopped its rhythmic movements. Her big breasts were still jiggling softly, and there were tears coming out from under her closed eyelids. She reached for him and he went down into her arms, mashing her boobs under him, loving the salty warmth of her sweated lips as he kissed her.
His cock was about to break off, it was so hard. He'd be willing to bet he could cum twice in ten minutes, it felt so wild and so cummy. His balls were knotted up in a little, tight sac and if he didn't spill this load somewhere, and soon, they were going to ache like hell in a few minutes. But he wished Mrs. Meredith would decide. Where she wanted it, like.
Some information of his dilemma must have passed through the mystic line of ESP that hovered between them. The soft-breasted, warm-cunted woman opened her eyes and blinked away her tears, seeing the tension in Jeff's face and the jerking throbs of his hard young cock. She eased him off her and got up on one elbow. She smiled at him, a smile of equality and love.
"How'd you like to stick it in me from the back?" she asked softly. "I'll bet you never did that."
"No, ma'am, I never did," he said soberly. And then, his face lighting with a broad grin, "Geez! I'll bet that looks horny!"
She let him help her get placed "just right." She knew that her ass, while not really big, would look sexily enormous to this young boy, and that the puckered brown ass-hole and pinkly bubbling fuck-hole would send him out of his boyish mind.
She heard him suck in a breath and felt his hands exploring in the exposed slickness of her cunt, his thumbs holding the fat and hairy cushions apart, his fingers stroking carefully among the twitching labia.
"Wow!" he exclaimed happily. "This is the greatest! I've just got to suck at it a minute or two!"
He bent over her, twisting his neck, trying to get his mouth over her throbbing, leaking hole. And failing, naturally. It just isn't in the cards, both on the bed, to make this connection perfectly.
"Wait, Jeff," the older woman whispered softly. And she wiggled away, got off the bed and, facing it with her legs spread wide apart, put her face down on her folded hands.
"Kneel between my legs," she said. "There, doesn't that make it? Right height, easy to get at, and all?"
"Oh, beautiful!" he moaned, and sank his face as deep into the soft folds of her vein-etched labia as he could, reveling in the rich flow of her pussy-juice, its gamy flavor of raw sex, the play of her vaginal muscles against his lips.
She continued to moan. Her clitoris, the sensitive two or three inches just inside her vaginal opening, every nerve in her cuntal area, had all been conditioned by the long cum she had shot off, over and over, on his fingers. Now, when just a tongue-tip was all that was necessary to bring her, this wonderful, talented boy was eating her better than any man ever had in all her life.
She was, she had to admit, just as happy when he got his fill of her cunt and its seepage. Now she would get some hot, hard meat stretching her aching pussy. To cum in any way was delightful, and to respond to wisely, tenderly sucking lips and tongue was among the best. But after all that, a cock and its stretch and pressure is the best.
She almost danced on her strained, tired legs as he stood up between her spread thighs. She felt his cock graze her ass-hole, felt it press that tender hold in a burst of loving pain. She was ready for it there, glad to have it there, but Jeff lost his guts somewhere along the way. Later, she thought. Later on, Jeff baby, you can shove your big prick into Mama SherVs tight old ass-hole.
Just the thought of that gut-wrenching pleasure yet to come made her jerk with the first spasm of cumming, and when he rammed his young cock into her soupy snatch, banging with sickeningly lovely force against her womb, she screamed weakly and let the waiting orgasm pour out as he fucked and slogged into her.
"Oh, Geez!" he was moaning. "It's so beautiful! Look! Look! I can see us in the mirror! I can see it go in and out. OHHHHH! OH, OH! I'M CUMMMMIINNNGGG!"
In the midst of her own rippling waves of orgasm, which were shaking her legs and liquefying her knees, she felt the wet flow of his jism pour into her, stretching her still more. I'm glad my cunt's this tight, she thought proudly. Glad Pm squeezing his sweet little old dickie, milking out all his pretty white jism!
He had fallen forward onto her sweat-slicked back, his hands fumbling for her bloated titties, grasping them hard, his hands slipping off them, but his cock still rammed into her, its every nerve so lightly held and so lightly caressed by the cum-slopped folds of membrane and muscle inside her.
"You must be cumming a bucketful, Jeffie," she crooned, reaching to hold his hands on her breasts, letting her weight go onto her elbows. "I can feel it pumping out of my cunt, running down my leg. Oh, my dear! You're marvelous!"
His trembling legs at last brought him down to his knees and, when Sheri moved her widespread thighs, he fell forward with his face buried in the slippery and reddened puddle of her open cunt, high-lighted by the pearly-white jism he had shot into her. In her haze of good feeling, she was aware of the gentle lapping of his tongue, her heart lifting as she heard his boyish giggle of pleasure as he played so delicately in the slimy folds of her twat.
When he was at last able to crawl on the bed, and she got up beside him, they held each other in a loose embrace. Sheri felt happiness and sensual joy in every inch of her solid body, especially when his muscular young arms or hands brushed her breasts or lingered on her belly.
"I've got a lot to learn, haven't I, Mrs.
Meredith?" he asked, out of a pleasant silence.
She was handling his stalwart young pole, sticky with the combined essences of their two sets of sex organs, and she squeezed the head of it as gently as a girl feeling her own titties.
"I'm not sure a boy like you has to think of it as learning," she said slowly, smiling into space. "You seem to know what to do, and when to do it. Maybe it would be better to call it experience. Maybe you need to experience more things. Of course," and she patted his cock, "experience and learning are the same thing."
"But I want to know how girls think. And how they feel. Why would a girl give her pussy to one guy, and not to another? Why do some girls act like it's a million-dollar deal, and other girls go into a vacant house with ten guys and fuck them all?"
His face was serious, his voice strained, and Sheri hugged him and kissed the side of his face.
"That's what you learn from experience," she whispered. "There's no book, no teacher, to answer those questions. How many girls do you know, know personally, I mean, that you think you might be able to get to open up their little twats for you?"
He moved against her, and she realized that all this impersonal fuck talk was sending messages through his aphrodisiac mind, down into his fuck machinery. A cock-throb confirmed it.
"Well, two," he answered. "Not counting you."
She hugged him, laughing. "I'm hardly a girl," she teased.
He pressed his hand hard against her wet-haired cunt, a finger slipping into it, and briefly sucked at one of her nipples, still hard from her blasting cum.
"You sure as hell ain't no boy," he said with ungrammatical forcefulness.
"Okay. Two girls. I'm not prying. But one has to be my Rocky, right? And the other, you're not ready to tell me about. Which is okay. You'll tell me when and if you want to. Or I'll guess. You know, don't you, Jeffie, that I'm perfectly willing for you to put it into Rocky? No jealousy, no mother's scream of rape, no moral lectures. Do you think I'm awful?"
He felt slightly dizzy with pride that a woman so great should even bend to his trifling opinion. He began a kiss in her pubic hair and made a long swath of spit across her belly, up under one big breast, into the heavy bodily fragrance of her armpit. He licked her sweat off his lips. It was hard to speak because there was a lump in his throat.
"I just wish to God I had you for a mother," he said in a strangely cracked voice.
She was so delighted that she felt a twist of cum-flare in her well-fucked vagina, a shuddering tremble in the thick lips which covered her inner cuntal areas. Just the thought of having a son who wanted to fuck her, who had fucked her, gave her a licentious thrill that made her skin tingle.
She stroked idly down his flank, getting her fingers into the hair around his prick, beginning to dry, but still matted from the fluids they had both fucked out of their bodies.
"You know what that would make you, don't you, Jeffie?" she teased him. "But I'd love it. I really would. If you really were." They both laughed. "Just think. A mother fucker."
"I don't see where it's such a big deal for a guy to stick his dick into a relative," Jeff said musingly. "Everybody acts like it was the sin of the world. Don't people ever do that?"
Sheri's mind trembled with a tender insight. She believed she knew who she was "tighter than," and who was the second of the two chickies Jeff believed he could fuck.
"Of course they do," Sheri said positively. "Even in our conscience-crazy society. Because a lot of people care more about sex, honest and open sex, than about some rules that are hard to understand. Fathers screw their daughters. Mothers who feel like it take on their sons. And I'm sure that there's many a loving sister, many a manly and straightforward brother, who has helped someone they loved. By fucking them, I mean." She giggled like a schoolgirl. "You know how hard it is for a guy to get his shit together and get organized? To go after pussy, I mean? Well, it can be a whole lot tougher for a girl. Man, you don't know the terrible stuff that most mothers-and fathers, too-feed to their scary, ignorant, innocent girl-children."
Jeff sat up. "Geez, I never thought of it that way. Girls always seem to, you know, kind of act like they don't want it. That's what I meant a while ago. You say it takes experience."
She rubbed his thigh. "It was the right answer to your question," she replied. "But here's the right answer to what you just said. Every girl wants it. Especially girls around Rocky's age. Or Sandy's age." She looked through partly closed eyes to watch his expression and saw his lips purse. "It may be kind of young for them to get it. But they want it. Believe me, that's the truth. When they yell 'No!' ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they mean 'Oh, please, please, ask me again!' "
"You don't think they're too young?" he asked. "You don't think it's wrong for them to fuck?"
"No, silly," she said and laughed. "Girls who want it are going to get it. Girls who are too scared-well, either they run into a guy who won't listen when they say no, or they just wind up very unlucky. And unfucked."
She turned her head and her gaze fell on the electric clock on her bureau. "Hey, what do you know," she said. "You've been here over three hours. If we .don't want Rocky to catch us," and she patted his muscular young butt, "you'll have to beat it."
He shook his cock at her, laughing. "I could have done it again," he said. "I wish we hadn't talked so much."
"I don't," Sheri said. "I think you've got enough so you won't be jerking off behind the garage."
He was buttoning the top of his slacks. "Or in the bathroom," he said and laughed. "Are you okay?"
She patted his crotch as he stood over her, just a baby, in a way, but a real human being. More of a man than a lot of men she knew. "I'm fine, Jeffie," she murmured. "Take care."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sheri Meredith really hadn't intended to drowse off. But it was a warm afternoon, and her body was relaxed and content. She had taken Rocky's message, delivered through Jeff, at face value. She had no idea of what was going on in her child's mind. But anything that removed the dreadful stain, the burning sadness of those terrible words of last night, well, that was simply marvelous. Until now, she hadn't really thought of it. Too involved, both in mind and body, with young Jeff Stone and his loving ways, his gifted cock.
The old apartment was warm with the California September outside, and she would get up soon. Fix little Raquel something nice for dinner. But, ohhhh, this was nice, lying here with her cunt warm and alive and filled with jism. And with a raunchily beautiful taste on her lips. Wow! When you really felt like sex, and had a partner who felt the same way, you used everything. Why, she could taste not only the ripeness of her own pussy, and the richness of Jeff's sperm, but also the sweat which the kid had licked from under her tit, from the soaked hair in her armpit. Pee-yew! That was kind of far out. But, God, so wonderful!
She was awakened by a gentle tap at her door, and came out of her pleasant dream of lust in a heart-pounding panic.
Rocky! Good God! And here she was, lying with her big old thighs spread open and her nasty old cunt hanging open, too.
But her panic died as she heard her little girl's voice calling: "Mom! Are you awake yet? Is it okay to come in?"
And then it all flooded back through her, all the good and wonderful feeling she had gotten from Jeff's message, so that she choked on sudden tears. She held out her arms, not giving a good goddamn if she was naked, and the slim little blonde ran in, her young face soft and loving, to throw her light, soft body on her mother.
"My baby!" Sheri repeated over and over, smoothing Rocky's blonde hair, feeling the wild heartbeat subside as the child burrowed her face into her mother's neck. "My baby! Oh, I love you so much!"
Rocky was crying silently, her slender arms warmly around Sheri's neck, and she asked in a whisper: "Mom, can you ever forgive me? Oh, I was so bad! Oh, to say those horrible things! You should have killed me!"
This was strange ground for Sheri. What does a mother say? Talking about open, flagrant sex with a daughter's putative boy friend? She hugged the slight, feminine body and said: "In a way, most of it was true."
"No! No! It wasn't! Mom, I know-at least I think I do-how tough it is for a woman when her husband's away." Rocky moved her face from side to side on her mother's neck, kissing her, sobbing quietly. "I'm just a dumb little chick, but I know." She raised her head to look directly at her mother, and her tearful smile was beautiful. "I don't care what you do!"
The woman kissed her daughter again. God, it was weird! Just as it had been last night, there was a sharp savor of sensuality in their kissing. Too warm for a mother and a daughter. But the love was there. And the strange undercurrnet of unexpressed lust somehow made them seem closer.
"All you do, Mom, is beautiful," the little blonde whispered. She kissed Sheri again, and the sexuality of the kiss was again evident. "Why was I such a bitch? Ooooh!" and she gave her mother another moving kiss, and this time, Sheri could not avoid the certainty that little Rocky's pink tongue was out and brushing across her own soft lips. "That tastes so good! Man-juice, and pussy-juice. And sweat! Now, I'm the one that's awful! How could I have been mean to you last night?"
Sheri felt a hidden load become light, so that her heart was ready to lift her in the air. It was really true! She had a daughter she could love like a person rather than a pet to curb, to bully, to inflict her own faulty ideas on.
"The important thing to me," the mother said softly, "is how you could change so much! That's all that matters."
The child was in the crook of her arm, her small body pressing on Sheri's breast, still warmly responsive, still swollen from her afternoon of wildness. "It was like a flash of light, Mom," she said. "I was saying to Sandy that I couldn't tell dad on you, like I said," and she blushed. "Because, you know, I'd have him asking me how come I knew the taste of, uh, semen."
"Jism," Sheri said absently, patting the softly divided little rump under her hand.
"Yeah, jism. I'm so stupid! I knew you'd been a girl not too long ago, but I never thought you were ever a girl like I am."
She giggled, but a couple of big tears rolled from her blue eyes. "Anyhow, Sandy said: 'You told your mother.' Just like that. And the minute she said it, I realized that I'd always trusted you, because I never had a reason not to. And that you never had laid anything heavy on me, like guilt and all that, uh, shit." She nestled her face down on her mother's warm, full, naked breast.
Sheri hugged her daughter. It was hard to know what to say.
"I never wanted you to be anything but a human being," she said in a low voice. "I never thought I was God. Do other mothers play it different?"
"I'm the only kid I know, the only one, boy or girl, that can say anything she wants to, anything she feels like saying, to her mother's face," the child declared warmly. "Sandy, for God's sake, Sandy can't even talk to her mother. Oh, hey!" and Rocky got up on her elbow. "To change the subject, you know. Really to change it. Not talking about Sandy, but about a friend of hers, you know. Okay?"
Again, Sheri's insight brought a vision of Sandy's ripe young body, and a brother who was bursting with anxiety and lust and the terrible lack of someone to talk to. "I understand," she said gravely. "Sandy has a friend with a problem, and the two of you need a little advice, right?"
Rocky looked at her mother carefully. This seemed a little too easy. "Well, yes," she admitted. "Gee, she's a screwed-up little kid!" The blonde child shook her head, amazed that anyone should be so screwed up. "She wants to know if-well, this is kind of heavy, I guess. But she thinks that, maybe, if it's her brother that shoots off inside her, maybe it wouldn't, uh, get her pregnant."
"Wow!" Sheri breathed. "That is heavy. And she really does need advice. Because, baby, your brother, or your father, or your uncle, or any guy who can shoot that stuff into you, can knock you up. So-she'd better watch it!"
The slender but rapidly maturing little girl closed her eyes and shuddered. "I just thought of dad," she confessed. "When you said that-you know."
"You thought of your dad sticking it into your little baby twat?" Sheri asked. For a split second, she felt a murderous rage against her absent husband, but shook it off as quickly. How crazy could she get? After all, he was her own husband, and she knew him better than anyone else in the world. How could he be around this eighty-five pounds of warmth and softness and throbbing parts and not want to fuck her? "Well, baby," and she laughed unsteadily, "it's not impossible, you know. Things like that happen."
"But he's so big," the blonde sprite protested, and then laughed out loud. "Gave myself away, didn't I?" she chortled. "So, okay, I've peeped on him when it was hard. And it's huge!"
The mother smiled and caressed the little girl between the legs, on her sweetly split delta of springy flesh and sparse hair. "These things stretch, baby," she said dryly. "But go on. What else is bothering Sandy's friend?"
Rocky was excited. "Well, she knows a lady in a doctor's office. Not a friend of her mother's. And this lady gave her a box of those things. Those pills you take. To keep from having babies. And she wants to know, if she takes them, will her mother be able to just look at her and tell? I guess that's kind of silly, isn't it? But her mother used to be able to tell, by looking at her, that she'd been, well, fooling with herself."
"That's nonsense!" Sheri said firmly. Damn that self-righteous bitch. She had her hand between her daughter's warm, smooth young thighs, and she thought of Jeff-maybe even of Brooksy, or even some stranger-straining to get his cock into that tender little crevice. To shoot his load of sperm and semen into that eagerly throbbing, warmly responsive little cunt. For once in her life, she immodestly thought of herself as, maybe, being a good mother. It made her feel at once humble but very happy.
"It's a damn lie," she said. "All the way! The goddamn snooping bitch! She was bluffing. She couldn't tell, but she could fool a child. A trusting child. I hope to God that Jeff is fucking her right now! Damn that Nancy Stone, anyhow!" And then she put her hand over her mouth. She had given herself away.
She looked at her daughter, who was giving her an odd look.
"You knew all the time, didn't you?" the girl asked. "Oh, Mom! You're so great! Are you sure?"
Sheri sat up, her big breasts jiggling and warm. "Call the kid up right now," she ordered. "Tell her to go into her bathroom and take one of those pills right this minute." She laughed and patted her daughter's belly. "You can take mine, starting tonight. And I'll call Colonel Sterrett over at the dispensary and put you on them tomorrow."
She sat on the bed as Rocky dialed her friend. "Are we okay?" Rocky asked. "I mean, is the security tight? All right, then. This is true stuff. Your brother or your uncle or your dad could knock you up. Any guy that has balls. Wait a minute." She held her hand over the phone. "She wants to know, could a dog knock her up. I think it's just, uh, curiosity!"
A quake of heat burned in the older woman's cunt as she thought of that innocent child being fucked by some over-sized dog dick, of the slick, bright red spear fucking into the opened, softly quivering lips of a girl's young pussy. Beautiful!
"Tell her I don't know," Sheri said, and then made an odd face. "Tell her-tell her a dog can't. But be sure to say I don't know, I only heard. Long ago. like at her age."
She felt of her breasts. They were tender and sensitive and she wished Brooksy were home. She heard little Rocky reassuring Sandra, and remembered what Jeff had said. "I could do it again," as he stood by her bed. He could, too. The idea of the two kids, hopefully free of both guilt and fear, naked on the boy's bed, fucking with the ferocious sensuality of minks, brought new warmth to her pussy.
Little Raquel had an oddly pained, oddly urgent look on her beautiful young face when she returned from the phone. She was holding the hem of her mini-dress.
"Mom," she said very low, "I've had my own room for, well, all my life. But I sure used to like it, when I was a little kid and dad was away on a long tour of duty, and you took me in bed."
Sheri looked at the child for a long moment. Then she said: "Get undressed." Her tongue was thick, her voice husky. "You think maybe I ought to shower?"
The child giggled. "No way!" she said. "No way!"
There could have been a lot of awkwardness over this simple, human, harmless little business. Too much talk could have spoiled it, Sheri knew that. And was grateful that neither of them felt any need to talk it to death.
Any more than there was any need for Rocky to put on a nightie. Honesty is catching.
"I can't get enough of this feel!" the little girl cried, burrowing her warm, naked body into her mother's. "I wish I could just crawl into you!" and she nestled between Sheri's strong, smooth thighs, pressing her breast against the older woman's flowing twat.
She got her strong young arms under her mother's knees and lifted, and Sheri, divining what the girl wanted, the irrevocable commitment that would stand forever, helped her. The mother's knees raised, her thighs came back against her chest, and when her cunt was open and aiming its slick, lovely, blubbery spread of pink convolutions at the ceiling, Rocky's face went down into it, and the slim, childish little woman began to suck.
And she was so sure, so accurate, so em pathetic! Delicate in her tongue's pressures, right up to the fieriest spot of all, licking right into the hardness of her mother's clitoris, grinning as the strong body jumped for nervous joy and ground back at her face, trying to push the entire pussy into the little girl's mouth. "OHHHHHHH!" the woman moaned softly. "OH, BABY! THAT'S SO DIVINE! OHHHHHH! SUCK HARD, BABY! MAMA'S CUMMMMIIINNNGGG!"
She deliberately raised her ass higher in the air, loving the feel of the slight, soft body against the wide crack of her ass. And little Rocky, her arms around her mother's thighs, rendered thicker by her position, kept her busy, loving mouth on the spasming cunt, sucking up the strongly flavored cum-juice, digging her avid tongue deep into the clutching vaginal portal.
With her broad, cleanly sculptured ass so far back, Sheri's breasts tumbled out, lolling almost in her armpits, and she squeezed them to a fever of tingling delight as she kept cumming and cumming.
And when little Raquel, her heart full of love, realized that her mother had reached an end of this particular piece of rope, she pulled her mother's legs down and once more flung herself on Sheri's body, offering her cum-smeared face for her mother's all-inclusive kisses.
"Now," Sheri murmured, and her voice had a tender growl in it, "you just turn your cute little old butt right around here and let mommy suck you right up the wall!"
There was an ultimate, utterly final sense of rightness and beauty in the dark woman's mind and heart as she softly kissed between the softly squirming, almost nude cunt lips of the little girl. A virgin cunt, in a way. Never a prick in it, at least not yet. And so sweet, so hotly flowing! . "Ummmmmmm!" the mother moaned as she took the fat little twat completely into her mouth, holding the outer lips by suction as she reamed her tongue between them, into the juicy little folds, letting the delicious young cunt's syrup trail into her mouth, letting its gaminess tickle her nostrils.
She made her tongue hard and probed with it, rapidly running it up and down between the lips held together by her lips. She could feel the child cumming, the light, slender body undulating on her belly and breast in a warm caress that involved them both entirely. She had kissed this little cunt when Raquel was weeks old, in the sheer joy of being a mother, of having a woman-child emerge from her own uterus, her own flesh and blood in the exact, literal meaning of the word.
And now the tender child was nubile and fertile, with a cunt generously overflowing with its sweet nectar of female cum, its maturing nerves shooting orgasmic joy all through the little body that hammered on hers. Sheri sucked more gently, letting the hard and painful beauties of cunt-fire die away in an easy, normal glow. Her mouth was full of her daughter's cum, and her belly was still, she imagined, full of the rich seed from Jeff's young cock. It was so beautiful, so natural!
Her arms were strong and Rocky's body was light. She had the little girl turned back to her in a moment, hugging her, kissing the child's own cum onto her rapturous face.
"Oh, Mom!" Rocky whispered, "I never thought anything so nice, so sweet, could ever happen to me!"
"Don't get to liking it too much," Sheri joked, but there was an undertone of real cautionary concern in her voice. "Remember, boys are better!" And she fingered her baby daughter's tender little cunt with a boldness like a man's.
The little blonde squealed and pumped her pretty pink ass strongly on her mother's hand. "How could I forget it?" she cried. "But when am I going to ever get a little?"
"You sweet thing," Sheri crooned. "Don't you worry! You'll get it. Maybe tomorrow. That is, if Jeff doesn't fuck himself to death tonight." She worked her finger in and out of Rocky's responsive little pussy hole, turning it to touch what she knew were the most sensitive fuck-spots. "You're really growing up, baby," she whispered hoarsely. "You really cum a lot!"
The child pumped savagely, and Sheri, with great pride, felt the young cunt muscles glide and twist, clipping her finger. What a wonderful gift for a girl to have, she thought. She would make any guy happy. A lot of guys, Sheri hoped.
"Mom?" Rocky said in a shaky voice. "Mom? Can I do something to you? Something crazy?" When Sheri smiled assent, the little girl knelt by her mother's strong thigh, almost exactly as Jeff had, earlier, and Sheri opened her thighs as before.
She got a shock. Something bigger than a couple of fingers was trying to get into her. And it felt marvelous. She was beginning to cum already, just a quiet series of small orgasms, and she let her body relax as she pumped her strong body easily up and down. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning, feeling the pressure grow, wondering what on earth Rocky was up to. At last she could stand it no longer. Her body was aroused from head to foot, she was twisting and turning, and she felt the biggest cum of her life gathering in her guts, far up her. She had to look. And she gasped and turned to hot jelly.
The tiny child had very small hands, shapely but very small arms. Hardly bigger than a healthy one-year-old child's. And she was working her entire hand into the tight aperture of her mother's cunt! It was fantastic, a feeling like the first big male cock that had ever stretched Sheri's body. And her cunt was fiercely responding, fiercely trying to suck or drag that hand inside!
"Work in and out, baby," Sheri groaned. "Get more cum-goo on it! It'll go! Keep shoving!"
The girl, her intensity penetrated, faltered. "Oh, Mom," she gasped, "I don't want to hurt you! But I've thought about it and thought about it and wondered if I could do it. Mom," she said, perspiration dripping off her face, "I never realized you could be so tight!"
In the silence where you could almost hear the thudding of two hearts in sexual excitation, Sheri laughed. "Jeff says I'm tighter than someone unknown. Or unnamed. I guessed it had to be Sandy."
Rocky bent down and kissed at the top of her mother's reddened split, letting slick saliva drool out onto her hand. "You are," the little girl said, giggling. "You are, believe it."
She twisted her hand, with all its fingers cupped over her thumb, drawing it out and plunging it in, until both women gave a shout of triumph. And Sheri, in her heat as her daughter's hand plunged deep into her vagina, gripped the slender girl's body, making the arm go in and out, pulling part of the dark red inner lining out as it partly withdrew.
"Oh, God, I don't know if I can stand it, baby!" Sheri cried. "It's so big! And so good! Ooooooh! Oooooooh! That will make me feel a little better! Did I hurt your arm?"
"No, of course not," the girl declared proudly. "Mom," and she was very excited, "I knew I could do this! I've seen photos of cocks as big as my arm! Oh! My God, I can feel all around inside you! This must be your cervix!" and she gripped the hard, slick ball of muscle and worked it up and down to the limits of its anchoring muscles and membranes. "Oh, God! I feel like I'm about to pop my nuts! OHHHHHH! HOLD ME, MOM! HOLD ME, DEAR! OH, YOUR HAND, MOM! Fuck me, Mom!" and she rolled in lust as Sheri, herself bursting with a wave of cum-craziness, jammed two fingers up her child's streaming twat.
They lay still for a long time. With her hand soaking in the hot juices of her mother's vagina, her elbow bent, her head on Sheri's left thigh, the little girl lay with her legs open, her pussy swollen to grown woman's size, its throbs of aftershock clearly visible in the slickness of her pink little fuck hole. Sheri, her face in a pleased and dreamy mask of lust, knew a different sort of fulfillment and joy, a new sort of heaven.
"My God!" she breathed. "I never knew anything could shake me up like that! What a cummy idea! Oh, baby, how I love it! And how I love you! Hey, you came pretty good, yourself."
"I like to've died with it," the young blonde said hoarsely. "Just the idea of having my whole hand and arm in your pussy! Feeling around in there, where I came from! So hot! I could have shot my cream if you hadn't even touched me! And, Geez, how your pussy can grip! I wish I could do that!" She began withdrawing her arm, finding that her hand, only slightly larger than her wrist, hung up at the opening.
Sheri gritted her teeth. "What a sensation," she gasped. "Better than a cock! I mean it! But you'll outgrow it. I hate to think of it, but you'll get too big."
"Ho-ho!" Rocky said. "Not if we do it often enough!"
They rocked in helpless laughter and uncompromising love, after Rocky pulled her hand out and both of them licked it well.
"Next time I'm baby-sitting, I'm going to try that with somebody's baby," Rocky vowed. "But first, I want to feel a hard, hot cock churning my guts!"
Sheri kissed her daughter. "I told you, we'll get Jeff over tomorrow. That isr if he doesn't get carried away, once he's started surprising that hot little kid sister of his!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
In the quiet, old-fashioned home in the area Nancy Stone had always proudly thought of as "our kind of neighborhood," her son Jeff was, in fact, getting carried away. And he was surprising someone, although it wasn't his kid sister. He was in his mother's bedroom, walking happily about, naked as the day he was born, and contemplating with great joy and anticipation a voluptuously formed woman on the bed. It was his mother.
From time to time, she would wildly, helplessly strain at the bonds which held her spread-eagled on her own bed. She could not hurt herself. They were only her own pantyhose, one pair passed through the baroque design of her old-fashioned iron bed's head, the other through the curlicues of the foot. And both were knotted around her wrists and ankles.
A thin film of sweat made her generously formed body, with its blonde hair, pink-nippled breasts, and womanly curves even more appealing to the snickering youth. His cock, looking unusually large between his hard, thin thighs, was not quite hard but showing signs of getting there.
"You might as well quit yelling, Mom," he said calmly. "I told you the neighbors aren't home. And if they were, I'd shut you up." He laughed softly. "You shut me up often enough! You sent me to bed without my dinner often enough. At least, you're going to have something warm in your stomach!" He giggled, got on the bed, and kneed his way right to his mother's shocked and horrified face, which she turned away.
"Jeffrey Stone!" she cried. "You monster! I'll make you so sorry for this! I'll make you-" and her voice choked as he pulled her face to him and pressed the head of his cock very hard against her closed mouth.
Her body was beautiful. Jeff had seen flashes of it all his life. He had avidly sought such flashes since his pubescence. Until he had known Mrs. Meredith, his soul had been heavy with the guilt from holding her cunt in his mind as he had jerked off. Now it was all his. At least for a while. If things worked out as he and Sandy had planned.
"Your father'll skin you alive!" the straining woman said. "Oh, how could I have been so stupid as to get into this?"
His hand was stroking softly between his mother's thighs, in that lovely, moist, sensitive area just below the puffy cunt lips. She was no beach lover, and he was intrigued by the whiteness of her skin, the deep blue of the veins which marbled the soft, warm skin. In a frenzy of lust, he drove his finger into the coral-pink crevice between the thick cushions of flesh which were so sweetly decorated with the fine, curly blonde hair. His mother jerked and shrieked, but her haunches, unbelievable, responded, pressing her cunt into the fork of his hand.
He licked his lips and probed with his finger. It was hard to believe, but his mom's cunt was juicing just like Mrs. Meredith's, just like his sister Sandra's. His cock suddenly throbbed with a fierceness he would not have believed. I don't really hate her, he thought. I don't know. It's kinda like love.
He felt a need to speak. "Dad won't do a damn thing," he said shortly, a speech he had rehearsed. "In the first place, you won't dare tell him. I've heard him say to you: 'Nan, we just can't communicate any more!' and so has Sandy. And we know it's about sex."
He had not removed his fingers-there were two of them hooked into his mother's warm, slick, throbbing vagina now-and unconsciously, he was hunching his body in a rhythm with his mother's plunging body, not even noticing that her eyes were shut, her mouth hanging slackly open, while trails of saliva drooled from her mouth. He had something else to say, but the rolling movement of her really beautiful titties held his attention. Weren't they bigger, more swollen than they had been? Weren't the nipples going crazy with new size and deeper color, almost blood-red, and creased? He worked his fingers all around in the marvelously slick, hot cunt, and leaned down in a flame of crazy passion, sucking one of those nipples as if he would take it clear into his throat.
"OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OH, JEFFIE! OH, MY GOD, JEFFIE!"
The voice seemed to burn in his mind. It had a different timbre, a vibrant need he had never heard. And his quiet, overly possessive, bossy, egocentric mother had muscles in her pussy just like Mrs. Meredith's. She was squeezing his fingers. She was pumping her beautiful bottom up and down with rapid-fire wildness, fucking his fingers just as his fingers were fucking into her.
He released her breast from his mouth and watched her cum with a sort of awe. So Sandy had been right. "Mom wouldn't be all that hung up on sex," the wise child had said, "if it wasn't heating her up in some way that she can hide." So now here she was, proving that Sandy was right, and totally unable to hide it, to hide the undulations of her strong, lovely body, the swell of the tendons in her thighs as she thrashed her ass upward, the flow of cum juice that pumped steadily out of the plumped-up lips of .her pussy, sucking on her son's fingers.
"And another thing," he said, or tried to say, for his voice was choked with excitement, "even if you told dad, he couldn't do anything because-right about now, Sandy's got his cock out and she's sucking it!"
In his ambivalence, nurtured for so many years and now breaking like a tidal wave, his voice rose to a shout. "She's sucking him off!" he cried. "You never give him any! We know! And we're going to straighten this family out!"
He thought of his and Sandy's plan, so quickly formed, so mutually acceptable, even thrilling their hanging together for a long kiss, and theii promise to each other. The future was foi themselves, but tonight was to straighten out a fucked-up family, to pay off old scores. "He drops his knife under the table so he can look up my dress. When he hugs me, he accidentally-on-pur-pose lets his hand go clear around to feel my boob." Sandy had been positive. "So he's been wanting to see the show at the Loma, and mom doesn't. Don't worry, baby, I'll just get my head in his lap and that'll be that!"
She had fairly danced with excitement. "And I just know you'll be fine with mom! Tell her you want to show her a Japanese magic trick. Remember how I showed you to wrap those damn pantyhose around the bed." And they had kissed again, rapturously sucking tongues, and she was squeezing his dick while her dad hollered gruffly: "Come on, let's go!"
And her mother, relaxing in her soft robe, smiling at her mental picture of herself as a happy companion for her children, was saying: "What do we do now, Jeffie, now that I'm tied up in this ridiculous way?"
He was breathless and cock-aching from this hard thrill, to make his mother cum like that, when she probably hadn't shot her wad in years. And oh, God! Those titties! As good as Mrs. Meredith's. White and pink, even when the nipples were hard and bright with engorged blood. And the smell from her cunt wes so gorgeous! Not quite as rank as that of the dark woman who was his newest customer for the Tribune. Sweeter, maybe.
He could stand it no longer. He protected his throbbing, bursting cock from touching the sheet or his mother's flank, since he would have poured out his seed at a touch, and dropped his mouth to the pink furrow in the bright blonde hair. To the pearly-pink clitoris that trembled from its recent cum. And to suck up all he could of that incredibly delicious juice that seemed to flow out around his fingers like a warm, clear stream.
"AAARRRGGGHHH! OH, MY BABY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? OH, MY BABY BOY! OH, JEFFIE! I-CANT-HELP-IT!" And once again his mother's warm, smooth, powerful body threw itself at him, at his sucking mouth, and her thick, slobbering, beautiful cunt lips seemed to open around his lips, sucking him rather than him sucking her. It was so good, so crazy-right and sweet, that he pulled his fingers out of her and began to suck at her hole, still keeping his cock , away from the contact that would pull the trigger deep in his sex system, and shoot jism all over him, his mother, and the bed. And her robe, too, which lay under her, since he had no way to remove it once she was tied down. Oh, God, that cunt! That . flavor! That marvelous delicacy of scent!
Nancy Stone was coming out of a crazy dream that she had fought off for nearly twenty years. She had been so frightened of sex. Her mother had been so grave, had seemed so fair, in all her bitterness that she had fed Nancy on. And then, in her first experiences with her husband, to find to her horror that she loved it! So she had held him at bay, except for the odd times when his insistence and her own nature had, in essence, raped her.
Because she had loved it. She had even wanted to suck his nasty penis! To have him suck her nasty vagina! It had just been so horrible to find that she was one of those women her mother had warned her of. And she had made a safe life, full of good works and meticulous housekeeping and bullshit.
Her mouth was so full of spit that she would have choked except that she swallowed it, her throat hungering for something she knew she wanted, and no longer feared. Her little boy's peter-my goodness, but wasn't it manly?-had just smelled so intoxicatingly wonderful when he had rubbed it on her lips.
"OHHHHHH!" the wordless scream came out again, joyful and triumphant, the paean of a female reaching the highest, hottest peaks of orgasm. Her baby! Sucking her vagina! Somewhere inside her, a rebellious part of her spirit said: Sucking your cunt! And she cried, with a joy that was as fierce as pain: "Oh, suck my cunt, darling baby! Suck mama's cunt!"
The boy, not loaded down by his decisions, but rather charged up by his deep entry into the kinkiest sex in the world, was whining and hunching like a dog. He was aware of hands tugging at him and never comprehended that his mother's bonds had been released from their moorings. His taste buds were flooded with the deeply sweet slime of this blonde pussy, its lips so fat and its hole so richly flowing. And the woman, no longer his mother but a female raised to white heat, lifted his narrow loins above her face, opened her mouth, and let the boy's straining, throbbing cock slip in against her enwrapping tongue, her gratefully constricting throat.
This is what I was born for, she thought. Goddamn my poor, cowardly, sick-minded mother! To feel her entire sexual system pour one trembling, gut-shaking orgasm of heat and love out of her cunt after another, to feel her cunt swell, her ovaries burn deep in her bowels, to feel even her cervix, prodded so brutally and gorgeously by this crazy boy's cunt-digging fingers, this was what every woman was born for!
The position took all the strain from Jeff's back and shoulders, but it made him start to cum, helplessly. At first, he fought it, and then a grateful nature took over and let the juice boil out of his young nuts with the same gladness he had felt when Mrs. Meredith sucked him off, when he had shot his slick seed into the girlish mouths of his innocent young sister and the tiny blonde child whose mother had so expertly taught him the joys of being sucked off.
He was sucking the cunt in which his face was buried. He was instinctively doing a marvelous job of it. His mother, as innocent as he, was instinctively moving her hips, her powerful body, her ass, her pussy, just that fraction of an inch which moved the spot of sweetest ache or fiercest response exactly in the path of slavering tongue or sucking lips. It takes two to do a great job of licking a cunt, and Nancy Stone was doing her share.
An entire lifetime of anti-sexual terror, of deadly fear, of the sickest Puritanism had been washed out in a matter of seconds. Perhaps the very fact that her rape had been tinctured by the most deadly taboo of all, that her violator had been her darling son, the fruit of her womb, made the flood of lust too great for her to fight. She swallowed convulsively, lovingly, at the stream of hot, rich semen which filled her mouth and swilled into her grateful throat.
And in this aura of transcendent change, some magic struck into the half-formed mind of the boy, as well. What had been a mixture of hate and love, a bitter desire to sever all ties with his mother, and to blast forever her domineering guidance, was warmed by a shift in proportions of the mixture. More love than hate, a feel of kinship growing, it seemed, right through their warmly contacting skins. And it was the purest of all passions, the love that is stirred by cunt and cock and fucking.
Of all the times in Jeff's young life that the pleasure-triggered nerves of his manly cock had released its showers of slick seed from his hairless balls, none had ever been so deeply draining, so wildly sweet as this.
Without his knowing how, the two of them were on their sides, and his thin arms were locked around the strong, firm thighs, holding them apart so that he could eat the slippery flesh of the warmly responsive cunt. And, while his joys were too diffused for him to realize it all, his mother's head was thrown back so that her throat and mouth and gullet were all in a straight line, and her little boy was fucking into her face exactly as if it had been a sweet, hairless pussy.
As all his world rearranged itself in the reaction from his revengeful assault on his mother's chastity, and he felt love surge in where rebellion had festered, he tried to escape, crying: "Mother! Please! I had to do it!"
But she held him, firmly but gently and, when his struggles stopped, she said gaily: "You're not going to get off this easy, young man! Your dad and your sister-didn't you say they had some fish of their own to fry? Well, you just get around here and let me teach you a few things about sex! And then," and she giggled exactly like Sandra had when they'd planned this, "I'll suck you up and you can stick that big old hard fuck-stick of yours into me and fuck and fuck and fuck!"
The thick, still-warm pearls of his jism were sweet as he kissed her, and the feel of her lovely, warm titty-flesh was so beautiful that it all swept through him. Once, after they had squirmed halfway off the bed in a fit of kissing and touching, her hand warm and sweet in the crack of his ass and on his balls, and the slobbery-sweet red cunt-lining pulled out around his probing fingers, she nibbled his ear and whispered: "I'm such a dull old dummy that you'll have to teach me what to do-and what to say," and there had been something deeply touching in her voice.
He had sucked her tongue into his throat just at that tiny point in time, and she had suddenly jack-hammered a bursting orgasm against the fingers he was fucking into her, so that he felt the flow of her cum-juice, and the sliding, softly loving grasp of her fuck-muscles. He held her until she subsided, with a smile on her softly feminine mouth and tears of love on her cheeks. He said: "We'll teach each other," and lifted his hard, boyish body over hers, letting her guide the red tip of his hard cock softly into her tightness, into her clutching, juicy cunt-mouth. Slowly in, and slowly fucking. And very, very wonderful.
Two big, soft titties, swollen with love and lust, rising under his hands. Two soft arms around him, loving hands stroking between his buttocks, fondling his balls. A body that seemed-and this was as great a surprise to Nancy Stone as to Jeff-to know exactly what to do. Rising at the hips as the boy's body rose, and which came down hard and drove forward as he plunged his prick into her, the upper and lower rim of her vagina milking him in a schoolboy's dream of superlative fucking.
He thought of Sandra with a twinge of conscience. She'd planned this. He owed her so much. Would he have any left over for her? He hoped so. Her young cunt couldn't be any better, but it was so sweet, so hot. And he had promised her. The thought of his little sister's unexplored sweetness made him fuck hard and deep into this oddly tight cunt, so gorgeously hot, so unbelievably juicy and loving. The lovely feel of being just before a cum slowed him up, and he fucked more leisurely into his mother's warmly sucking vagina. He would try his best to get it up for Sandra. It would be fun, trying. They'd have a million laughs, and she would understand if he couldn't do it.
But there was Mrs. Meredith to think about. Her sweetly giving cunt. And little Rocky. Somewhere in his mind there lurked an idea that someone had promised he would fuck the tiny little blonde. Her young pussy was so sweet, so tender. And she had been just wild when he had sucked her. And she had sucked him. He knew that she and Sandra had finger-fucked each other a million times. And probably fucked each other with cucumbers and batons and rubber snakes from the toy store. But he knew he was the first guy who would really get a cock into her.
The thought hardened his young dick and made him hammer even harder into this older, sweeter, more mature blonde twat.
His mother was gasping in his ear: "Oh, darling! Oh, my darling boy! It's sooooo gooood! SO GOOD! SO GOOD! OHHHHH! OHHHHH! OH, MY GOD! OH, JEFFIE, FUCK ME! FUCK ME! AAAARRRGGGHHH! Ohhhhhh, ohhhh, oh! Oh, Jeffie! Oh, my baby!" She kissed him hard, her face bathed in sweat, and whispered: "You made mama have the most marvelous climax!"
He fucked into her hard and brutally, feeling her leap as he smashed into her nerve-raw tenderness, giggling as she cried: "Oh, don't! Please don't, darling! It's too much! Let mama rest!"
He said: "Okay, then. But no more of that climax crap. I made you CUM! Get it? Darling Jeffie made darling mommie CUM!"
There was the swaggering note of male ambivalence in his voice again. Nancy did not fear it, she loved it. In her heart, she knew that if she leaned on him with parental suasion, she might tame him. God forbid! He'd be afraid to fuck her. And that, the way she was feeling, would be unbearable.
So she bumped up at him just a little and whispered: "Of course, Jeffie. You made me cum!
You certainly did!" She had never felt more marvelous. And that dear, loving husband of mine, that I've starved for sex all these years, is he ever going to make me cum! And will I ever fuck him half-silly! She thought this in a tender rage of love, and it started a new wave of fuck-joy up inside her, in the awakened depths of her cunt.
She began to fuck again, gently and precisely, in no hurry to draw that second load of jazz-juice from her little boy's big-boy nuts. She loved the hard grind of his cock against the sensitively cushioned cunt-mouth, the sickly sweet jar of it against her hidden womb. Soon, she would milk it dry, make it shoot its big jets into her hot and slippery vaginal pouch.
Thank God for the robe under her, the chaste and matronly terry cloth robe that would absorb the puddle of her cum and his.
She was approaching another orgasm, and her heat transferred itself into his balls and cock. But he stubbornly held on to his load. This fuck was so great. But he had others to think about. He'd give his mother two or three more good, hard cums before he let his seed go spurting up her cunt.
That way, he'd be sure to have enough left for Sandy. Loving, lovable little Sandy! But, oh! This was marvelous fucking! His cock was making sloshy sounds as he jabbed it into the slick tightness. And after he and Sandy had had their fill of fuck-and-suck, and his belly was full of her sweet pussy's delicious juice, he could sleep. Because, next day, there would be little Rocky. And maybe, Mrs. Meredith.
After all, a promise was a promise. His mother had taught him that. And his mom was great! He was holding on to her titties, slippery with sweat, and fucking his boy cock into her with short, hard strokes. She was so wonderful, so sweet. Promises were sacred, she had told him. It made him think of his sister, Sandra, and of Mrs. Meredith. And of sweet little Rocky.
"Oh, baby!" his mother moaned. "Fuck me, baby! Fuck me!"
"I will, Mom!" he cried. "I promise!" He began to cum. He had promised. And promises had to be kept.
