One has come to expect that stories of this type always bear a legend just behind the title page that proclaims: "The characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental." Astute readers now observe this legal escape clause and comment; "Oh, this must be another book about Howard Hughes."
In all likelihood, the publisher, or his attorneys, will probably insist that this trite "Loophole Louis" clause appear in this book also. Well, don't you believe it!
To be sure, the individual character of George Ross is indeed fictitious. He is merely the figment of a fertile author's imagination. Whether or not, as a real flesh-and-blood person, he ever loved or did the things attributed to him in this story, nobody can really say. Given an infinite number of characters and an infinite number of situations into which to place them, any author of fiction must, in time, make an accurate portrayal of a real-life character. Considered as a generalized characterization, I can definitely state that our society is indeed replete with the George Rosses of life. They are a natural by-product of our present way of life.
Neither liking, nor hating, the situation will, by itself, alter the basic facts. There are many dark facets to the present sociological scene. Just as with flaws in a diamond, we cannot hide them nor can we simply wash them away. In order to rid ourselves of these flaws or dark spots, we must first study and understand their nature. Only when we have gained a cogent knowledge of them can we begin to grind or buff away these ugly flaws which mar the gemstone of our existence.
Progressive political administrations, at both federal and state levels, have made tremendous strides in legislating programs of social reform designed to give aid and comfort to the very young and the very old. While these are commendable steps in the right direction, they do not take into account the vast segment of the population caught in the forty-to-fifty year span between these two social-aid programs.
The population, explosion following World War II has made available a tremendous work force in their twenties. Trained observers of the business and industrial economic scene comment that men, by their mid thirties are often considered too old for the job. They flatly state that even highly trained and skilled men over forty find themselves virtually unemployable in the current labor market. A prominent industrial-relations expert writing recently in The Wall Street Journal described this group of men as "going through that awkward age in which they find themselves too old to obtain gainful employment and too young to collect Social Security." In recent years the unemployment and welfare rolls have been swelled by such people. In time, even these benefits expire. What are they to do then? Where do they run to and how do-they exist financially and socially? Where can a proud man go when he has come to the end of the line? Some become wards of the public while others become a burden on their children. One might paraphrase the words of Sir Winston Churchill and say of this unprecedented social phenomenon: "Never before in the history of human endeavor have so many been so expendable so early in life."
Both sociologists and psychologists have long realized that many prisoners, while physically restrained from contact with the opposite sex, turn to the practice of homosexual acts during their incarceration. Exhaustive studies of this problem have revealed that the majority of these inmates regard this as a poor substitute for normal heterosexual relationships and lose all interest in homosexuality upon their release. They often justify their actions on the basis that "a half a loaf is better than none." Several prominent psychiatrists and sexologists have noted with alarm the rapidly increasing incidence of male pedophilia in our current society. They describe a close parallel as existing between the psychological motivations of the prisoner to turn to homosexuality and the unemployed middle-age male to turn to pedophilia. Common to both cases is the old expression that "an idle mind is the devil's playground." In the case of the latter group, men used to taking a proud and active part in life are separated from their peers either financially or socially. Suffering the pangs of frustration born of rejection and futility, they seek to impress and seduce someone, if only to bolster their ego. Since youth, as a group, is generally easily impressed, they turn to the youngsters of the opposite sex. Often it is the grandchild's baby-sitter who is his target because they are alone together, in privacy at night. In many cases these men readjust sexually when they become socially readjusted. They then regard the pedophilia as a temporary substitute for sexual normalcy just as the prisoner regards his temporary homosexuality.
Such a man is George Ross, the principal character of this narrative. The story is not a pretty one, but then neither was John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath which brought to light the social significance of a similar slice of life a generation ago.
Mr. Harris' portrayal of this character is as poignant as it is pointed. Being fictional, our story has a happy ending in that Ross is fortunate enough to meet a woman doctor who succeeds in performing a psychological retread job which equips him to return to a normal, useful life within the current society. In real life, all too few disturbed men afflicted with this particular form of sexual aberration are so fortunate.
After reading this novel, I get the feeling that the author is not asking the reader to have compassion for his characters but merely to make an effort to understand them and their problems. If he accomplishes this purpose, this book-has social significance in that a step will have been taken in the right direction. In the words of an old Chinese proverb: "The journey of a thousand miles must start with but a single step."
Jules Griffon, Ph.D. Beverly Hills, California April 1973
CHAPTER ONE
"Please, Mister Ross, I'll do anything you ask-anything-if you'll just promise not to tell my folks," she pleaded and began to sob which made the big beautiful tits tremble like twin mounds of Jell-O.
George approached the girl and patted her reassuringly on the head and shoulders. She pulled closer to him and he was unable to keep his hands from dropping down to cup and caress the soft full breasts and tweak at the little nipples. Her face was practically against his swollen throbbing prick now. She made no effort to move away nor to cover herself. It was too close now to even consider turning back. He knew that it was now or never. The blood was throbbing in his brain almost as violently as it was in his turgid cock. Unmindful of the consequences he released her tits and slowly unzipped his fly. Her eyes were glued to the parting teeth until they reached the bottom of the track. Reaching in he extracted his big dangling hairy balls as well as the twitching, burning shaft with the moist purple knob.
"Suck it," came the gentle, quiet command.
"But I don't know how. I mean, I've never done that before," the frightened girl stammered but without refusing or pulling away from the hot head of his cock that was less than an inch from her face.
"Use your imagination. Experiment. I'll tell you when you are doing it right," he encouraged her.
The touch of her moist tongue on the burning glans was like an angel's caress. It had been so very long. She seemed anxious to please and soon she was licking the entire length and breadth of it, even licking his balls when she came to the base.
"Now open your mouth and suck on it, up and down, like it was a lovely popsicle," he urged her.
"But, it's much too big. I could never get that huge thing in my mouth," she protested weakly, even as she prepared to follow his instructions.
The soft tender lips slid enticingly over the hot throbbing helmet of his charger and soon it was beautifully encased in the cool moist confines of her mouth as she continued to tickle the big swollen vein along the bottom of its length with her darting tongue. George held her head gently but firmly as he slowly urged more and more of his throbbing, long neglected sex into the wondrous wetness of her mouth and throat. She seemed to warm to her task now and began to fondle" his balls with her cool fingers and to stroke the part of his shaft that she had not yet learned to orally encase. George was aflame with passion. While he hadn't been laid in over a year, it had been some three years since he had had his cock sucked. Now it was actually happening. It was too good to last long. He tightened his grip on her head, fearful that the inexperienced young girl might try to pull off of his throbbing prick when he blew his load in her mouth. He had no way to knowing that his fears were in vain. Betty knew from her experiences at masturbating her boy friend's how men ejaculated their hot jism in the climax of this sex activity. Also she had watched her mother go down on her father a number of times. Before her mother took it out of her mouth it was always limp and shrunken. She realized that she had taken his come in her mouth and she realized that this was now what was expected of her. She was already aware of a rather pleasant fragrance and flavor to his sex. Now she was erotically curios to see what the heavy hot fluid would taste like. She had never seen her mother spit it out so it must be good enough to swallow. Her jaws were beginning to ache now from the unaccustomed stretched-lips position, so she began to stroke her lips as far up and down as much of the length of his big cock as she could possibly accommodate while she gently kneaded his balls and stroked the swollen lower vein where it disappeared into his balls. It began to throb and twitch violently in her mouth now, and then she felt the head swell up just before her mouth and throat were flooded with the heavy liquid outpourings. It seemed to gush out faster than she could swallow it and some of it overran her mouth and came out of her nostrils. As she took a man's cum into her own body, even though orally, for the first time in her life she became aware of a growing hot wetness in her own crotch. Since she had gone this far she was anxious to go all the way. Now that she had known the feel of a real man's prick in her mouth, she wanted to experience the feel of it in her cunt, too. She wondered if he would be able to do anything about that now that she had sucked him soft. He released her head and slowly she pulled off of 'his spent cock until it plopped limply from her lips. The taste of his cum really permeated her mouth and intoxicated her to sexual cravings beyond her wildest girlish experiences.
"You did that beautifully, Betty," old George informed her with a tender smile. "Such a good job must be rewarded and I intend to give you your reward right now."
He pulled off her slacks and panties now and spread the firm young thighs. The pink gash of her sex glistened with the juices of anticipation like a tender rosebud covered with dew. He fell to his knees on' the floor between her spread legs and stroked her thighs and tummy and the soft globes of her full breasts. Slowly, he lowered his face to her furry triangle and nuzzled his nose and lips in the fragrant soft pubic hair while the aroused young girl squirmed in delight at the very touch. Then he dropped his mouth to her tender slit and began to lick and suck on it while she went wild with passionate desire. He sucked the lips of her quim into those of his mouth and slipped his tongue between them into the creamy tube in the ultimate soul kiss. He licked up and down the full length of her fur-fringed valley of sex from her erect little clitoris to her tight tan asshole while she moaned and groaned and grasped his head and pressed it tight to her creamy cunt. He tickled her sensitive button with the tip of his tongue and then sucked the little white pea in the pink shell into his mouth and began to suck up and down on it. He worked one hand beneath her and inserted his middle finger deep into her ass and his middle finger into her vulva. He held her in this delightful bowling alley grip while his tongue and lips tortured the wildly erogenous clit as his other hand caressed and stroked and squeezed on those luscious breasts. She shuddered as violently as though a major earthquake had struck as the mammoth orgasm swept through her while the little muscles inside her cunt and ass clutched and squeezed convulsively on his embedded fingers. Her head lolled from side to side and her eyeballs rolled back in their sockets as she experienced the most fantastic multiple cum of her entire life. When the last of the seething hot winds had blown through the corridors of her sex, she collapsed beneath his face like a deflated balloon.
Sucking the lovely young girl's cunt, until he had drained her honey pot, had re-aroused old George. When he got up on his knees between her still-spread thighs he had achieved a workable erection. Having gone this far, he knew that he had to fuck her now. He could still taste her cunt juices on his lips as he took his cock in his hand and rubbed the spongy head up and down the soggy slit and against the little clit. He wondered if she was still a virgin. Since pecker tracks on the couch in his daughter's den would surely arouse suspicion, he pulled two large handkerchiefs from his pockets and worked them beneath her creamy cunt. Slowly he urged the swollen head of his burning prick between the moist pink lips of her throbbing cunt. They soon encased the hot glans even more delightfully than her mouth had done earlier. Gently, he thrust forward until he encountered an obstruction. The tender membrane that had up to now stood guard at the gates of her virginity was still intact. It wouldn't be for long. She lay there so still that he wondered if she had fainted. What he had done so far was legally carnal abuse, but it had done her no permanent physical harm. Medically and legally it could not be proven that he had gotten her to suck his cock and that he had sucked her sweet little cunt. There was the element of doubt. To forcibly rape an unconscious underage virgin was quite another matter. If she felt remorse about the experience and confessed to her parents, they could prosecute and he would be a cinch to do hard time in the steel chateau. It was too big a risk to take. While it is often said that a stiff prick has no conscience, George Ross still had the conservative mind of a trained engineer. Reluctantly, slowly and painfully, he moved back until the enraged head of his cock realized that it had been removed from the wondrous caress of her nether lips.
"Don't take it out, Mister Ross," Betty sobbed, grabbing for his retreating cock. She had not been unconscious after all. Somehow it seemed almost ludicrous to George that the dear child should, out of force of habit, call him "Mister Ross" at a moment like this.
"You mean you want me to fuck you? You want for me to destroy your virginity?" he asked in happy disbelief.
"Yes, Mister Ross, I want very much to have you fuck me. I want to feel that beautiful big meat of yours all the way inside me, down there. As for my virginity, I've only been saving it for a real man like you. I didn't want to waste it on one of the kids. I want for you to take it. I'll never tell anybody-honest I won't. I've been a girl long enough. Tonight I want you to teach me what it feels like to be a woman. Fuck me, Mister Ross. Please ... fuck me!" There was almost a note of desperation in her voice. She clutched at his cock and at his balls and pulled him toward her as she thrust her cunt forward to meet him. This time she guided the soft swollen head into her waiting cuntal lips.
It is not often that a forty-five-year-old grandfather gets a chance to smash the cherry of a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl. It would have taken Herculean strength to walk away from an opportunity like that. George Ross, the sex-starved widower didn't possess such strength. He thrust forward into the tight virgin cunt. Betty gasped and bit her lip. Perhaps she couldn't take in his big prick after all. He pulled back and rammed forward again. He could feel the membrane of her hymen stretch as she gasped in pain at the ferocity of the required assault upon this stubborn bastion to her inner sex.
"I don't care if it hurts. Please, don't stop. Keep slamming it at me until you get all the way inside me. I made up my mind that tonight I'm going to get fucked by a man, not a boy, and I'm not about to let a little pain stand in my way. C'mon, man, fuck me!" she sobbed.
George rammed her good now, back and forth as he felt the rubbery gate stretch until it finally ripped. He could feel the virgin blood of her maidenhead ooze out and trickle down over his balls. Gently, but firmly, he now stretched the tunnel of her sex as he burrowed deeper and deeper into her tender virgin cunt. At last he was buried balls deep in her soft sex. He could feel the spongy head of his long cock rubbing against her uterus and cervix. The walls of her vagina squeezed gently on the embedded meat that was the welcome intruder. She lay very still as he stroked gently all the way in and out of her. Only towards the end did she seem to respond to his movements. There was a sweetness to her responses that delighted his sex-hungry staff that hadn't been in a cunt for a year now. He wanted to make her cum but soon he realized that he could hold back no longer.
"I've got to cum, Betty. I can't hold off any longer," he whispered hoarsely.
"Oh yes, give it to me. Cum in my cunt! I want to feel your hot jism shooting out deep inside my belly," she urged feverishly.
He thrust even deeper into her previously secret innermost caverns and then erupted like a mighty volcano deep in their confines. She moaned and covered the older man with kisses as she felt the deep flow of his molten love lava. When the tidal wave from his balls had finally ebbed, she threw her legs around his buttocks and held him in a death grip.
"Don't take it out. Now that I have it inside me I don't want you ever to take it out. Just hold still while I squeeze it with my cunt. I'll try to help you to get it all nice and hard again. I just know we can do it if we try and work at it together. You have opened so many beautiful doors to life for me tonight. I want to go the full route. I must know what it feels like to cum to a man's cock fucking my cunt. I want to flood your beautiful prick with my love offerings, too. You've got to fuck me again and make me cum with your wonderful cock. Please!" she pressed her tits tight to his chest as she spoke softly, but demandingly.
For an amateur she displayed a hell of a lot of talent in exercising those inner cunt muscles which all women possess but not one in a hundred ever learns to use. George felt as if his ball-drained pecker had gotten caught in a runaway milking machine and in an unbelievably short time he was again big and stiff enough to start stroking in and out of her grateful grocket. This time her response was enthusiastic and complete. She humped back and forth with him as he tried to tunnel even further into her womb. Their bodies were covered with sweat before she let out a shrill shriek like a trapped bird that echoed around the small room as she clutched him close and thrust her creamy cunt up even tighter to him.
"Oh, my God. It's happening. I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your sweet prick as you fuck my cunt. Try real hard and see if you can't cum right with me," she sputtered, breathlessly.
George felt the muscular spasms of her orgasm clutching and grabbing at his embedded member and, then, the cymbals crashed and the skyrockets burst and all the colored lights flashed in his head as he felt as though the very marrow in his bones had melted and was flowing out of the slit of his cock and into her wanton cunt.
When she finally allowed him to plop from her like a weak champagne cork, George glanced at his watch. He had lost all track of time. He was caught in a sudden panic. It was nearly one a.m. His daughter and son in law could return any moment. God knows what would happen if they caught old dad in the act of screwing the young baby-sitter. They dressed quickly now and she suggested, "You'd better run along to your room and go to sleep. I'm sure you can sleep comfortably now. I'll pretend to be dozing in front of the TV when they come in and tell them my date left hours ago. After all, we wouldn't want anything as nice as this to turn out be a one-night stand, would we. I'll tell your daughter that I'm saving up for a car and want to baby-sit steady for her from now on. That way we can have a lot of nights like this."
George carefully removed the handkerchiefs from beneath her and tried to rub the excess out of her creamy cunt with them. They were well stained with maiden blood and cum but there wasn't a trace on the couch. He squeezed Betty's tits, now safely back in their bra and sweater and she squeezed his limp pecker through his closed pants. Then he retreated to his little room, undressed and crawled into bed. He hadn't felt this emotionally relaxed in years.
He lit a cigarette from the pack he always kept in the bedside table and thought back over the events of the evening that had led him into his enviable new position of sex master to a fifteen-year-old virginal mistress. How had he gotten so lucky as to fall into a pedophilia situation as an older man sexually involved with a young girl. He realized that he should feel guilty and ashamed about what he had done with young Betty tonight but the only emotions he could feel at the moment were pride, contentment and exhilaration. At this time the day before he wouldn't have given a dime for his sexual chances with the lovely young nymphet next door. Tonight he wouldn't take a million dollars for the position he had achieved with her. He was almost asleep with he heard Fred and Alice pull into the driveway.
George Ross had stayed at the Barrel Inn later tonight than was his custom and had consumed considerably more bourbon than usual. He had gotten involved with a couple of guys he used to work with and they had reminisced about happier days when they were riding high in the aerospace industry. Also there had been a whore in the bar with a pair of tits and a bulbous ass that drove him out of his mind. He hadn't had a piece of ass for over a year now and the mere sight of her had made him unbearably horny. He had made discreet inquiries to the bartender and learned that she charged twenty dollars for her competent services. He had less than twelve in his pocket. Now he was walking a trifle unsteadily as he approached the little house where his daughter and son-in-law had given him a small hall bedroom. He checked the windows of the house next door hoping to catch a glimpse of that nymphet Betty getting ready for bed. At fifteen, she had a full-blown figure. Twice he had peeked through the curtains and gotten a fleeting glance at her in the nude. Both times he had been so affected that he had to jerk off to get to sleep. Forty-five-year-old men weren't supposed to be that sexy but his big cock was not aware of this. He let himself in the kitchen door. The house was quiet, perhaps everyone was asleep. Then he had spotted the note held to the refrigerator door with the little fancy magnet clips that made this double as a family bulletin board.
"Dear Dad:
Fred and I were suddenly called to an important meeting at his office and won't be in until very late. At the last minute we got Betty next door to baby-sit with Jimmy. She had a date and I said it was okay if they watched TV in the den. You might check on them before you turn in.
Love, Alice."
George had heard the television and, as he approached, also the whispered conversation of the young couple. The lights were very dim and he could barely make them out on the couch. They were too involved to notice his entrance. He flipped on the light switch. There was a mad scramble on the couch as the boy nervously pulled up his jeans and zipped the fly. He had removed Betty's sweater and bra and her huge firm tits glowed like polished ivory tipped with rosebuds in the sudden light. Her slacks and panties had been pulled down around her knees as the two had obviously been masturbating each other. The huge muff of curly chestnut brown cunt hair was moist at the crotch. The sight of her youthful perfection made George begin to drool from both ends.
"Get out of here!" he had screamed at the red-faced youth who fled the house in panic.
Betty had seemed in no great rush to cover her nakedness. She had seen George stare at her while she had practiced her baton twirling in the back yard. She knew that his interest in her was far from fatherly. Ever since she had been aware of sex, she had felt a strong attraction to older men. For several years she had really had a case of the hots for her Uncle Bob but he had paid no attention to her. Against her wishes her sexual experiences to date had been limited to allowing boys to rub and kiss her boobies and play with her pussy. When they got too hot she would jerk them off. Once Jack Finlay in her class had tried to fuck her but she kept her thighs locked tightly together while he rubbed his hard hot cock into her cunt hair until he had shot his jism all over her belly. Betty was ready and anxious to go from girlhood to womanhood but could not see wasting her cherry blossoms on the callow, inexperienced boys at school. Betty had needed a real man and tonight had been her chance. She went home and to bed happy that she had not let the opportunity slip by.
CHAPTER TWO
Fred entered the house like he expected to find it booby-trapped. He checked first on his son Jimmy and found the boy sleeping peacefully in his crib. Next he moved stealthily to the den and observed the teen-age baby-sitter as she feigned sleep in front of the television set. He had always suspected that his father-in-law was a dirty old man and he had secretly feared that he would find the lovely young girl raped and bleeding on the floor. Then, under the pretext of going to the bathroom, he moved down the hall and listened at the old man's door. He heard him snoring away peacefully. Drunk again, Fred figured. At least it was better than the fears that had been gnawing away at the back of his mind all evening. There would be many of these nighttime meetings with the heads of his company in the weeks ahead. These were difficult times in his career, with company politics running rampant. He had a bellyful of worries at the office without having to think of potential problems at home. Ever since George had come to live with them he had regarded his wife's father as a trouble spot in the background. He was a lecherous old son-of-a-bitch who loomed on the horizon like a keg of dynamite in this otherwise-peaceful and well-adjusted community. Perhaps he had been unfair to the old bastard. He had never voiced his fears to Alice but ever since the old guy had arrived Fred had felt that the sword of Damocles was hanging over his head by a thread.
He paid the baby-sitter and stood on the porch until she was safely inside her house next door. He didn't suspect that any harm that might befall her on the way home would be an anti-climax to what she had already experienced this fateful evening. Perhaps a hot shower would calm his uneasy nerves and emotions. Fred hated company politics, but realized that this phenomenon had become an integral part of American business. In order to survive, one had to play the game. Even more, he objected to the way the employers demanded that he give up his own time, without compensation, to attend meetings and listen to lectures that could just as well be conducted on company time. More than anything at the moment, Fred Hughes wished that he were sufficiently affluent to tell those arrogant Eastern bigwigs from his company to go piss up a rope. Since he wasn't, he settled for a long hot shower and a sleeping pill. When he crawled into bed Alice was already sound asleep-or pretending to be. Once more he would have to rely upon just the pill to unwind him enough for sleep. He never used to have to take pills, but ever since his wife's father had moved in with them their sex life had gone to hell in a basket. Alice was so afraid that dear old dad would hear the telltale squeaking of the bed springs that the only time he would get a fuck now was when he would get in at night ahead of old George, and then they felt like they were doing something sinful. That old man had surely fucked up his happy home life.
Three nights later Fred and Alice went to another meeting. George announced that he was going to a double-feature space-travel movie with a couple of the boys and wouldn't be in until late. They called Betty to baby-sit. George left before the girl arrived. Tonight he didn't go near the Barrel Inn. Instead, he hid in the shadows a half a block away until his daughter and her husband drove past. Then he rushed back to the house, and to the eagerly waiting Betty.
The girl was bent over tuning the television set when George came into the room. Walking up behind her he reached around and cupped his hands over her full firm tits, rather than on her eyes, as he asked, "Guess who?"
Betty wiggled her rump back until she was rubbing her buttocks along the sides of his limp cock. "It feels like my man, George," she said giggling.
They had no patience with preliminaries tonight. It appeared to be a race to see whether he could get her tits out in the open before she had extracted his cock and balls from his pants. The mutual massaging that followed spoke more eloquently than words of their great need for each other's bodies. As soon as she had stroked him to a strong hard-on, she led him, by this handle, to a large leather club chair and urged him down into it as she dropped to her knees between his legs. Her soft cool tits hung down, grazing against his hard hot cock in a way that made it twitch and jerk at the tender contact. Slowly, she traced first one nipple and then the other up and down and around his throbbing shaft and then down further to tickle his hairy balls. When the clear fluid began to ooze from the slit of his glans, she rubbed it off onto her nipples. When they were both amply coated she raised her chest up to his face and he eagerly licked and sucked the heavy crystal juice from them as her nipples grew and stiffened' in his mouth.
His tortured swollen cock was shuddering now like tall corn in a windstorm. Betty pressed her tits together encircling the burning hard flesh with the gentle cool caress of her mammaries and then stroked it slowly up and down as she discovered the delights of tit-fucking. Then, in a sudden playful mood, she pulled up so that her large pendulous breasts hung down one on each side of his throbbing shaft, which was drooling profusely now. Swinging her shoulders, she made her tits move from side to side like twin pendulums, slapping his roaring hard-on back and forth between them like a shuttlecock in some fleshy badminton game. Just when George felt that he couldn't stand the delightful torture for another moment, she swooped down on him like a dive bomber taking his throbbing prick, balls-deep, in the cool damp confines of her mouth in a single rapid stroke that almost made him blow his balls right then and there. She began rapid rhythmic strokes up and down the full length of his trembling cock while her tender lips and ever-active tongue drove him right up the walls and across the ceiling. Tonight she was sucking cock like a sword swallower's daughter. She displayed a lot of talent for just her second effort. Obviously, she had been giving the gentle art a lot of mental practice since their first experience the other night. He knew from the way that she was going after it that there would be no need to hold her head down on it when he was ready to blast his jism into her mouth. Her cool finger tips began to stroke and caress his balls tenderly, encouraging them to offer up their contents to an appreciative pubic pilgrim. She was making little moaning sounds through her nostrils now as though begging him to reward her efforts with the liquid pearls of his manhood. Her lips and tongue and throat were all making tender demands upon his tortured turgid cock until it could resist them no longer.
George felt it start in the soles of his feet and come blasting up his thighs with the force of a skyrocket. Cymbals crashed, cannon boomed and a million colored lights exploded in his brain as the powerful flood shot up the length of his swollen cock and gushered out into her pumping mouth and throat like a new oil well blowing in. Blast after blast of the starchy white jism exploded into her oral cavity as she swallowed voraciously as though it were the very elixir of her life. Betty was one of those girls whose very first taste of male love cream had engendered a lifetime addiction to its exotic flavor and bouquet. In explaining it to one of her friends later Betty said, "I discovered that I'm just a natural born cocksucker and I'm very happy with the discovery."
Only when he had shrunk down to a spent nubbin did Betty release his thoroughly drained prick from its oral imprisonment. When she moved up to ask him how she had done, George could smell his cum on her breath. He hoped that this bad-smelling breath would wear off before she breathed on either Fred or Alice. But then, they were such squares that they probably wouldn't recognize the odor, anyway.
George had in mind that they would change places now so that he could go down on her but Betty was too impatient to feel his tongue in her juicy gash to waste time on switching positions. As she got up from the floor she pulled her skirt and panties down together and stepped out of them. Then she braced her knees on the padded arms of the chair and her hands on the back and pressed her crotch right up to the older man's face. George cupped her firm young buttocks and pulled her close.
George inhaled deeply of the nice womanly fragrance of warm pussy which he found not in the least bit distasteful. The erotic bouquet of a clean young cunt is the most aphrodisiac of all exotic perfumes. He had always regarded it as one of the major crimes of nature that, as women aged, their body chemistry changed and all too many of them developed that fish-market smell in their crotches that even the highly advertised "personal deodorants" couldn't quite get rid of. He had lived through this unhappy phase of the aging process with his own wife. In spite of all of the douches and preparations and sprays she had bought and the sincere efforts she had devoted to maintaining intimate daintiness, she had developed such a severe case of internal B.O. that he had been forced to abandon all efforts to go down on her and eat her pussy when she had reached her mid thirties. It had always been a source of deep regret and frustration to him since George thoroughly enjoyed cunt lapping. Now, after years of forced abstinence, he was doubly appreciative of the pleasant personal perfume of the tender young grocket that was pressed up close to his nose and mouth. For long moments, he contented himself just nuzzling in her hairy mound of Venus and inhaling deeply the fresh feminine fragrance of her sex center. His thoughtful appreciation of one of the many blessings of youth was cut short when she asked, a trifle impatiently. "Are you just going to sniff at it like a dog all night, or are you going to eat it?"
"Sorry, my dear. It's just that I am a grocket gourmet and any gourmet will tell you that it is highly improper to charge right in and scarf up the entree without first savoring the appetizer," he explained.
"Okay," she said smiling, pleased with the comparison, "but just don't spend so much time enjoying your soup and salad that you let the meat and potatoes get cold."
"What do you want me to do to you, Betty?" he asked, needlessly, "Say it. I want to hear you say the words. I want to hear you ask me to do it to you."
She began to breathe heavily as the sound of the words raised her own level of anticipation just as they did his: "I want you to suck my cunt. I want to feel your tongue tickle my little clit and slid? into my cuntlips and lick out all of the honey, want you to suck my little hot panic button into your mouth and lick and chew on it until I come, until I can't cum any more. Oh my God, George just talking about it makes me so hot I'm about to cum before your lips reach mine. Suck my pussy, daddy. Do it right now. Suck it out dry, like I did your big cock. Pleeeeeease suuuuck meeee!"
George used his hands to open up wide the young girl's hot cunt and then he ran his tongue up and down the length of her soft moist slit. He went around and around the oval track of damp crimson tissue between the outer and inner lips, then drove his tongue as deeply as he could into the velvet quim while she trembled and moaned in erotic delight. When he paused to catch his breath, she dipped the fingers of both hands into her juicy tunnel and spread it as wide open as she could. The lights were fully on in the room and he peered up at the very insides of her womanhood. It was like a lovely crystal cave of rose-colored quartz. Then he dove back down on it to let his tongue and lips feast on the delicious beauty his eyes had just be held. He ran his hands up lightly through the furry triangle of her pubic mound and across the ivory smoothness of her stomach until he cupped those lovely big tits in his hands and squeezed them and tormented the tight swollen raspberry-colored thimbles of her hardened nipples as he pulled his tongue from the creamy tunnel of her cunt and flicked it about the stiff little clit. He sucked the little hardened nerve center into his mouth and tickled it with the tip of his tongue as he nibbled ever so gently on it while he felt the shuddering of her loins build to a crescendo.
"Oh, George, it's wonderful. Don't stop now. Please, don't stop now. I don't ever want it to stop. It feels so heavenly. Stay with it at least until you make me cum to your expert mouth. Please!" she moaned, almost incoherently. "Eat my cunt out some more. Keep eating it until there's nothing left to eat."
The sound of her words excited George even more and encouraged him to even greater efforts. The sobbing urgency of her begging for more of his oral caresses to her hot cunt was totally unnecessary. There was nothing that George enjoyed eating more than a juiced-up hot pussy. Her first offering of the tasty cunt had merely tantalized his .palate for the rare delicacy that he hadn't been able to enjoy for so long. Now that his appetite for a young girl's hot pussy had been whetted, he had every intention of satiating it while the supply was at hand. He ran his hands down and clutched her low on the asscheeks, spreading them apart as he slurped away at her sweet slit, working a finger into the tight asshole. She moaned in ecstasy and ground her little quim up to his face as he licked harder and harder.
As George began to saw his finger in and out of her ass, he could sense the beginning of an impending orgasm. This sensation urged him to suck at her hot cunt even more voraciously and to finger-fuck her hot little asshole faster and faster.
"Oh, George, darling. I like the way you eat my hot little cunt. It's so good I don't want you to stop ever. Oh yes, it feels heavenly. Lick my cuntlips more. Tickle my burning clit. There. You're there now. Yes, stick your finger deeper in my little asshole. Oh yes. It feels soooo gooood. Oh good God, it's too much. Please, please. A little longer. Please, George, make me cum hard. Please, lick harder at my creamy cunt. I'm almost there. Now, George, I'm gonna cum. Please, please. There. Oh, Georgie. Oh, I'm cummmminnnng. Oh, God, I can't stand it. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhh."
After she creamed in his mouth, Betty was so thoroughly sex-spent that she barely had enough strength left to hold herself up on her knees on the arms of the chair. George eased her down to his lap where her soaking wet hot gash made contact with his semi-aroused cock. She rubbed her cuntlips up and down on his big cockhead, spurring his prick to full hardness. Grasping her hipbones, George positioned her so that she soon slid down to enclose all of his hot meat. His throbbing shaft slid up into her creamy cunt as easily as though he were burying it in a bowl of warm custard. George felt all of the wondrous little conical rings of pussy muscles hugging and squeezing at the stiff shaft. Soon Betty was sliding up and down his hard prick as though she were being hoisted up and down a mainmast in a boatswain's chair. The plunger-type action of their inverted sex position pumped the excess juices from her upended honey pot and oozed and flowed out of her cuntlips with every stroke to seep down and flood over his balls. As she began to speed up her up-and-down movements of her hot little cunt over George's blood-engorged cock, George hungrily took the nipples of her big tits in his mouth and began sucking like an infant child would suck at his mother's breasts.
"Oh, my God, I'm gonna cum again. I'm gonna cum all over your big beautiful prick that is plugging my cunt so wonderfully. Here it is! See if you can feel me cuming all over your cock. Nowwwwwww!"
George felt it, all right. It felt like his tortured prick had suddenly been caught up in some crazy runaway milking machine that clutched and grasped and squeezed and pumped at it demandingly. He grabbed her hips and smashed her down hard on his bursting cock. "Oh, I feel it. Now it's your turn to feel my big cock cum into that tight little cunt of yours. Now, here I cum! Feel it swell up and burst and spew out its hot love cream deep inside of you. Ahhhhhhhhh."
Even though Betty had thoroughly ball-drained him into her mouth with a superb head job a short time earlier, George now managed to blow a tremendous load of jism into her cuntal depths. When his shrunken cock plopped out of her creamy cunt, the big load of jism leaked out of her stretched slit to flow through his pubic hair and over his well-drained balls.
After George and Betty had carefully straightened out their clothing, they obliterated any evidence of their secret sex session. George then retired to his room to celebrate his good fortune with a half-pint of bourbon that he had kept hidden in his closet for a special occasion. And tonight's occasion had been about as special as they could get at his stage of life.
Once her lover had gone to his room, Betty went to check on little Jimmy. The lad was sleeping peacefully. Leaving the door ajar, in case he might start to cry or call out, she went to the den and turned on the television. Her knees and legs felt weak from the heavy fucking session. She was happy with her decision to experience the thrills of fucking with an older, experienced man. She felt sorry for her girl friends who were content to learn the facts of life from the fumbling efforts of inexperienced and inexpert boys of their own age.
After the Hugheses returned home, Fred didn't check on his father-in-law, although it would have been safe to do so. Old George was snoring softly, a broad smile of self-satisfaction on his face. A short time before he was almost resigned to the fact that his sex life was over the hill. Tonight he had performed like a healthy young stud. In Betty he had discovered his personal "fountain of youth." At age forty-five, George Ross was in the process of learning what so many middle-aged men have discovered and kept secret. That there is nothing quite like fucking a young girl with a tight hot cunt to rake the glowing embers of a long-banked sex fire and fan the forgotten flames into a roaring inferno.
CHAPTER THREE
For the next few weeks Fred had meetings three nights a week but the wives were included in only two of these. On all of the other occasions, when Fred would be out until past midnight and Alice would keep her father company watching television, George thought that he would go out of his mind. It had been over ten days since his last fucking session with Betty before Fred called Alice late one afternoon and informed her that she was to be included in that night's meeting. George tried to look disinterested, but his heart was beating like a trip hammer as he eavesdropped on his daughter's phone call to Betty to ask if she was available on such short notice to sit with young Jimmy.
George thought that he would jump for joy when he heard Alice say, "Oh, that's wonderful, dear. We always feel so safe when you are with Jimmy. I'll expect you about seven, then."
That evening sat dinner George remarked that if they didn't need him to stay with Jimmy, he thought that he would go over and play cards with some of his old buddies. He wanted to allay any possible suspicions by making it appear that he would rather go out than be stuck at home with the young baby-sitter. He left the house a little before seven and walked briskly down the street. At the corner, he looked back to make sure that he wasn't being observed and then ducked quickly into the drug store. He made a small purchase and then browsed through the magazine racks from which vantage point he could keep an eye on the street without being seen. At ten past seven, Fred's car drove past the store. Alice was seated beside him. George waited another ten minutes and then walked home.
When he entered the den, Betty threw herself into his arms and pressed those big firm young tits against his chest. The mere contact made his cock twitch in anticipation. When she ran her fingers playfully through his graying hair and around his ears, he felt his cock hardening rapidly.
"I was afraid you really had gone out for the evening," she said, pouting. "I would've died having to spend all evening here alone, thinking about you and what we could be doing all the time."
George grabbed her buttocks and ground his now-stiff cock into her crotch. "Maybe you don't think I've been going nuts all these nights without you," he said into her ear as his hands fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.
Suddenly, she backed away and fixed him with a strange look. It was as though she had to tell him something but was having a hard time finding the words. The dreadful thought flashed across his mind that maybe she was menstruating. What shitty luck that would have been. He wanted her cunt so desperately now that he could almost taste it.
"What is it, Betty?" he asked softly. "What's on your mind? You don't have to be afraid to tell me. No matter what it is."
"I'm just afraid that maybe you'll think I'm just a silly sentimental girl," , she said, dropping her eyes to the floor.
"I promise I won't think you're silly at all. C'mon, now, out with it," he prompted.
"Well, it's been a long time since we did it, and then we did everything here in the den. I've been thinking about it a lot since last time and it's just that I'd like to fuck in comfort, rather than with my knees propped up on some cold hard-leather chair. I want you to take me to your bed and put me naked between the cool sheets with a soft pillow below my head and a nice mattress beneath my ass. I want to learn how Mom feels when she does it in bed with Dad. Please, George, tonight fuck me in your bed."
"Why, my dear, that's a lovely thought and there is nothing I'd rather do than to have you between my sheets. Come, let's go straight to my room." He took her hand and led her back to his little cubicle.
"George, do just one other thing for me tonight, will you," she said as they approached his door.
"Sure, honey. Anything." He had a roaring hard-on by now and would have promised her the moon, if necessary, to bury it in her furry snatch as quickly as possible.
"Carry me over the threshold. It's the first time I've ever been in a real bed with a man and I want to feel romantic about it. Do you mind?" she was blushing slightly at the boldness of her requests tonight.
"I think it's a lovely idea," he smiled, suddenly feeling younger himself at the young girl's fantasizing of the situation. He swept her up in his arms and carried her across the narrow threshold to his tiny room.
When he put her down she kissed him sweetly and began to stroke his stiff cock through his pants while he removed her blouse and reached around her back to unhook her bra and let those big boobs fall out of their nest. Damn, but she had lovely tits. Then, as he removed his own clothes she unzipped her skirt and let it fall around her ankles and then kicked it up on the single straight chair in the room. She made sure that he was watching before hooking her fingers in the elastic of her panties and pulling them slowly down over her hips, bringing the big hairy muff into view a fraction of an inch at a time. Then she turned down the bed, kicked off her shoes and slid between the sheets. George nearly ripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled in beside the naked young beauty. She stroked his hot cock and pulled him over on top of her as she spread her thighs and guided the trembling head to the damp pink valley of her crotch and rubbed it up and down the tender sensitive slit as she stroked the staff of his cock while urging him into her.
For his part George didn't need much urging. It had been a long time since he had been in a comfortable bed with a real live woman. Even though Betty was just a third of his own age, at the moment she was offering ample proof that she was a full-fledged woman, indeed. She wrapped her ankles around his in the same way that his wife used to do, and thrust her cunt upwards to facilitate his complete entry into her. Inch by inch he burrowed down into her. She was so cool on the outside; so warm on the inside. The insides of her precious pussy were as softly caressing to his throbbing prick as a wet velvet glove and yet the tender internal membranes of her cunt retained a virginal tightness that made it necessary for him to force his penetration deeper and deeper into her inner pussy as he had to stretch the tight stricture inch by inch to accept his hard thick cock as he burrowed it down balls deep in her hot tight little snatch. When his entry was complete he felt the lips of her widespread cunt graze against his sensitive balls in the most intimate of lovers' kisses. They rested then and enjoyed the sweet sensations of the total union. George had been supporting much of his weight on his knees and elbows. She pulled him down flat on top of her supine body now and glued her lips to his while the thimble hard nipples of her fleshy tits ground into his chest. Slowly, their hips moved up and down in perfect harmony as he worked his hot cock in and out of her tender cunt in ever lengthening strokes until it moved rhythmically in and out of her like a piston with full six-inch strokes, each of which she returned in perfect unison. He felt the muscular convulsions grasp and squeeze at his swollen tortured member as he fucked her desperately now to orgasm after orgasm as she kept moaning, "Fuck me, George. Keep fucking me and never stop. Here, in your bed, tonight I want you to really fuck me flat. Ohhhhhh, here I cum again!"
"Lift your cunt up to me tight, Betty. I'm just about to burst and flood your sweet snatch with my hot molten cum. Concentrate on your cunt and feel me swell up and blast my jism deep down inside of it. Ahhhhh."
"Oh yes, I feel it. Oh, I love it! I love to feel it shooting its load deep into my belly. The only thing that could make it any better would be if I had taste buds or a palate down there so that I could taste as well as feel your sweet love cream as it pumps out of your cock into my cunt. Oh, it's like heaven."
They lay close together for a long time after their original passions were spent, petting and playing with each other. Betty's hands kept being drawn, as though magnetically, to George's limp cock until it was no longer limp from her constant attentions to it. She bent over his body and lowered her face to his crotch where she flicked her tongue over the tip and mushroom head while she gently stroked the shaft and massaged the balls. Her big beautiful tits grazed across his stomach as he brought his awakening prick to full attention. George shoved both pillows beneath his head and raised it from the mattress. Then he guided her over to kneel above his face in the classic soixante-neuf position as she lowered her face to his crotch and her crotch to his face. It had been a long time since George had partaken of the erotic delights of simultaneous oral-genital contacts. Now he licked and tongued on her cunt suspended just above his face while she swooped her mouth down to encase all of his trembling hard-on in the tender confines of her mouth and throat while her lips gave a silken massage to the inflamed skin while her tongue tickled the long swollen vein that rose from his balls to the slit in the tip of his cock. With one hand he cupped and spread and massaged the cheeks of her ass while the other hefted and pinched the nipples of her dangling tits as they hung down over his belly. They worked a finger into each other's assholes and had everything going for them at once. The erotic thrills of the sensuous massage of tongue, lips, fingers and hands was far too powerful to be long lived and within minutes the young girl and the older man were spewing their sex juices into each other's mouths in simultaneous orally induced orgasms. It was as though their cum was flowing in and out of each other at the same time.
When they had finished their ying-yang encounter, George glanced at the old alarm clock on the dresser and was amazed to find that it was already past eleven o'clock. Alice and Fred could be arriving at any time now and it wouldn't do for them to be caught in this situation. They dressed hurriedly and spread the bed back up neatly and beat a hasty retreat to the den. Betty had just tuned the television set to a late re-run of an old movie when they heard the car enter the driveway. Thank God for noisy gravel driveways. They are built-in alarm systems. They heard the back door open and close and both knew that Alice would go directly to check on little Jimmy while Fred would come to the den to dismiss the baby-sitter and ask if there had been any phone calls. As he strode into the den, he found the young girl and the old man sitting sedately in chairs on opposite sides of the room, their bleary eyes glued in fascination to the tube. Neither seemed even aware of Fred's presence until he cleared his throat loudly.
"I thought you were going to play cards with your friends tonight," he challenged old George.
"I did, but I went broke early. I got home a little after eleven and came in to watch the news then got involved in this old John Wayne horseshit and gunpowder epic," George explained as though bored with the whole scene.
"Really, George, you must learn to watch your colorful language in front of youngsters. You will shock them into bad habits," Fred lectured the old guy sternly. Betty rose to leave without even acknowledging the fact that George was still in the room. Inwardly, they were both pretty proud of themselves for playing a real cool hand.
When Fred returned from paying the girl and seeing her safely home George was still thoroughly engrossed in the old flick on TV. He looked up as his son-in-law entered the room.
"Want me to turn off the television so you can get to sleep," he asked politely.
"Not if you're involved. Just turn it down and we'll close the door so Alice and I won't even be able to hear it," he suggested.
George turned the volume way down and pulled his chair closer to the set as his daughter's husband went back to his room. He knew from experience that Fred fell into a deep sleep almost the second his head hit the pillow. To be on the safe side he'd give him five minutes and then turn off this drivel that was boring him to distraction and beat a hasty retreat to his own room and bed. With any luck he might still feel the warmth of young Betty's body on his sheets and smell her feminine fragrance on his pillow.
Nearly a week passed before Alice was again asked to accompany her husband to an evening meeting. George was in high spirits at the prospect of playing a return engagement with his youthful mistress. All of his high hopes came crashing down when he heard Alice inform Betty that they might not be gone over an hour since this was just to say good-bye to the visiting VIPs who had been conducting the meetings. Thank God, she had warned them!
With the tight timetable hanging over them, the September and May fuckers were afraid to even remove their clothes. George contented himself with rubbing her big tits through her blouse and, since it would be faster in an emergency for him to simply zip up his fly than for the girl to tug up her panties and rearrange her skirts, she simply pulled his stiff cock out through the zipped opening and sucked him off. It seemed unfair but since a stiff prick has no conscience, he didn't fight her in her surreptitious approach to sucking him off. The very fact that the clandestine liaison was so fraught with danger made it all the more erotically stimulating and she moaned ecstatically as he crammed his hot cock into the cool moist recesses of her mouth and throat until he blew a copious load of his hot cum into the young girl's anxious mouth with such force that it threatened to blast right through the back of her skull.
Afterwards, he felt guilty about not reciprocating her tender attentions. Almost forty-five minutes had passed since Fred and Alice had left. From what they had said they could be returning any minute now. On the theory that a half a loaf is better than none, old George ran his hand up Betty's skirts and into her tight panties to cup her moist crotch and finally work one and then two hard fingers into her creamy cunt as he finger fucked her violently. She squirmed and moaned but it was obviously far short of the attentions that she really craved. George realized that one-way streets of this type could kill sex affairs faster than anything else. He did not want to risk losing Betty now that he had found her.
On a sudden inspiration, he withdrew his fingers from her creamy pussy and grabbed her by the hand and led her to the living room couch in front of the big window. The drapes were drawn but he could see the car's headlights through them when it turned into the driveway. He shoved her shoulders down onto the back of the couch and had her kneel on the edge of the cushion. He turned her skirt up over her pretty little ass and yanked the panties down to her knees. Straddling her legs from behind, he spread her firm full cheeks with his hands and aimed his re-hardened tool into the crevice between. In this position he managed to enter her dog-fashion and banged away at her rear as best he could with the panties holding her knees together. It was hard going at first and he lubricated the burning tip of his cock with spittle and rammed it into the thin crevice between her buttocks. At last he effected a tight entry. He wasn't aware of whether he was into her cunt or her asshole. Nor did he particularly care at the moment. He socked it to her viciously until he was entirely contained in either front or rear hole while they watched for the warning signal of the headlights. Time was of the essence now and he spread her cheeks wide and looked down to watch his big hard cock disappear inside of her. Up till now he had been blinded and confused by mounting passion. There was no mistaking of the sight that he now saw. His huge prick was crammed tightly into the young girl's asshole. The mere sight of his buggery of her rear excited him to renewed efforts as he rammed his hot cock further and further into her lower intestines until he felt her tremble just before he blasted his load into her bowels. He had no sooner extracted his rampant charger from her brown rear tunnel than he saw the headlights. Getting his cock back into his pants he yanked up the young girl's panties and helped her back into the den.
"Oh, George, that was wild. Really way out. I could feel your big hot prick crammed up my ass and it excited me so that I couldn't tell whether I wanted to come or go! Promise me you'll do it again when we have time to really enjoy it."
She threw him a brief kiss as George dashed back to his little room seconds before his daughter and her husband came in the kitchen door. Betty was sitting demurely in front of television; her composure fully regained, even if only on the surface.
Just before he fell asleep George experienced sharp shooting pains in his chest such as he had never felt before. He wondered if he was having a heart attack. He didn't dare say anything to Alice and Fred. They might call a doctor who would diagnose the cause. He remembered hearing about older men who had fucked themselves to death trying to keep up with some young pussy. He wondered, somewhat absently, if this could now be happening to him. Oh well, shit, if it was it was. There was nothing he could do about it. If, indeed, he was coming to the end of his misspent life there was no pleasanter way he could think of to exit from this veil of tears than by screwing himself into oblivion with a beautiful young broad. The very thought seemed to relax him and soon he fell asleep and, while he slept, the pressures in his chest alleviated. In the morning, he slept a little later than usual but finally awakened feeling quite normal again. Perhaps, he wasn't really as old as he had feared the night before. Any forty-five-year-old man that can satisfy a fifteen-year-old girl can't really be that far over the hill.
CHAPTER FOUR
The weeks dragged slowly by after that last quickie encounter with Betty. Sometimes it seemed to George that perhaps Alice and Fred would never go out at night again and call in the young girl next door to baby-sit. Several times he saw Betty either going out on, or coming home from, a date with some boy her own age. On these occasions poor old George was racked with pangs of jealousy and deep-seated feelings of sexual insecurity. It was horribly frustrating for him, largely because he was so completely powerless to do anything about it. If he were financially independent he could afford to meet her away from his daughter's house and they could shack up for their sex parties in some out-of-the-way motel. Such a thought was far beyond his fiscal means since he was hard pressed to meet even his minimal personal needs such as cigarettes and a few occasional beers or pack of razor blades out of the tiny pittance his daughter squeezed out of her household budget and slipped to him, much against her husband's wishes. It was a living hell to be middle-aged of body while still young at heart. And to be poor of pocket at the same time. It was a hopeless sociological maze in which a growing number of working Americans found themselves with each passing year. The overwhelming preponderance of youth in the labor market forced these men, at the very peak of their productive capability, to be put out to pasture years before they had built a proper retirement nest egg. Students of the economic trend forecast that, in time, this would force the Social Security age down to fifty-five, then fifty and eventually to as low as forty-five or even forty. Unfortunately, for George Ross and his contemporaries this wouldn't happen in time to be of any help to them. Their hard-earned training and technological genius had led their country to victory in two major wars and shown it how to put a man on the moon. The national sense of security and position of scientific leadership which their efforts had created now made these same efforts obsolete in a society newly dedicated to political and social reforms and a concentration on ecology. Like the legendary General Douglas MacArthur and so many other battle-scarred old soldiers who had manned the front lines in the long battle for democracy; now that this battle was past and won, the home front which they had secured dismissed them with the sweep of a Congressional magic wand. Now that the value of their services had passed they weren't doomed to die: but to the far more cruel fate of just being asked to fade away. As a young man, George had spent six years at Stanford earning his degrees of Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering and Master of Science in Aeronautical Engineering. In the twenty years that followed he became one of the leading aerodynamicists in the airframe and aerospace industries. In the current administration, advanced aircraft and space programs have been scrapped and men like George have been tossed on the human scrap heap along with them. Today, in their mid-forties, these men find themselves at that awkward age: ten years too old to find gainful employment and twenty years too young to collect Social Security. The current emphasis in big business is upon youth. George and his contemporaries often discussed this and felt that there were two principal reasons for the attitude on the part of employers. Firstly, any business had to cater to its customers. There were more potential customers between twenty and thirty than in all other age groups combined. It makes good sense to employ those to whom you sell. Secondly, since employer-sponsored life and health insurance has become almost universal, the insurance companies that write these policies are playing an increasingly heavy role in dictating hiring codes. Many major companies insist upon a medical examination as part of the review of a prospective employee's qualifications. While age, as such, is seldom given as a cause for rejection, any thinking man soon realizes that few men in their twenties and thirties have fatal heart attacks, strokes or major crippling disabilities. Such major losses for the insurance companies reach their peak while the policyholders are in their forties and fifties. By rejecting those in this high-risk age group they minimize their losses and thus increase their profits. Most men in this age bracket tend to be a little obese, or to have slightly higher-than-normal blood pressure or less than 20-20 eyesight or perfect hearing. Any of these failings has become a cause for medical rejection by an employer
Periodically, George had tried straight commission selling jobs. Like insurance or real estate. He probably could have made a go of one of them in time but, pathetically, he didn't have sufficient "walking around money" to subsidize such minimal expenses as bus fare, telephone calls and postage. Unlike some of his friends, he couldn't qualify for federal, state or county financial assistance because his daughter had offered to support him by offering him room and board and the minimum requirements to support human life. George often wished that she hadn't been so generous as to volunteer. His friends who lacked such a sponsor lived in comparative luxury in nice hotels, eating good meals in restaurants and getting enough of a relief check each month to hold their heads high and to enjoy at least some of the creature comforts of life.
At long last, a ray of sunshine fell upon his dreary lot in life. Fred came home one night elated over the fact that he had been selected as one of twenty top men throughout the country to train for major promotions within the company. These men, and their wives, were to spend three weeks in special executive training at the company headquarters in Chicago. Although all expenses were paid, it meant cleaning out their bank account for proper clothes and luggage with which to arrive. Alice was proud of old George because she felt that he was so happy for his son-in-law for having been given this opportunity. She had no way of knowing that George's happiness had to do with quite a different type of opportunity which the trip afforded him.
It was arranged that Betty would spend most of the day and evening at the Hugheses' house taking care of little Jimmy, feeding and bathing him but that when he got safely to sleep at night she was to return to her home and George would take over. Fred and Alice agreed that it wouldn't look right for the young girl to spend late night hours alone in the house with a man who wasn't a blood relative. George could hardly keep from laughing at their square attitude. After all, he knew Betty far more intimately than any of her blood relatives. She had shed her virginal blood for him.
Finally, the happy day for all of them arrived. George drove Alice and Fred to the airport and then brought the car back to the house. Betty was waiting for him when he let himself in. She had acquired a sexy-looking negligee somewhere and floated around the house in this near-transparent garment like a nymphet child bride. The sight of her lush young body through the gauzelike material had only one effect upon George-instant hard-on. by six o'clock, Betty tucked little Jimmy into his bed. Five minutes later, George tucked Betty into his bed and joined her between the sheets. Her body seemed somehow to have matured since their last sex session. Her beautiful tits seemed even larger than before. George wondered if any of those young dates he had observed had been massaging and chewing on them to make them grow. He sucked the crimson nipples to swollen erection and then burrowed his head into her hairy crotch and down into the pink valley at the bottom of the pubic forest.
Their long separation had made his need and craving for her reach a fever-pitch. Now he wondered if he could keep his roaring hard-on under control so that it wouldn't shoot its overfull load before he even got it into her. He crawled on top of the girl and she spread her thighs anxiously and raised her knees to make the entry easier for him. She grabbed the throbbing turgid staff and guided it to her moist slit. The virginal tightness seemed a thing of the past now and his thick hot meat slid easily into her in a single stroke. She seemed even hotter than he was and began immediately to fuck him with the wild abandon of a bitch wolf in mating season. The springs squeaked and the bed rocked with the violence of their sexual attack upon one another. There was no reason to try to keep quiet now and Betty started almost shouting, "Fuck me, daddy, give me all of that big cock of yours. I want to feel you cramming and stuffing my cunt so tight that you split me right in two and then you'll shoot out that wonderful white glue of yours that will put me back together again. C'mon, sock it to me, George. Ram that big beautiful prick of yours clear into my belly. I want to feel you come in my cunt, or do anything you want to, just so you do it in my cunt. Oh, God, how I've missed and needed that hot cock of yours. Fuck me!"
It was like fucking a wildcat the way Betty thrashed around in that bed and threw her pussy up to meet his every stroke so strongly that she lifted her ass clear off the mattress. There was nothing passive about this long-awaited session. The very violence of their attack upon each other's sex centers caused the storm of passion to blow itself out quickly. Their overfilled floodgates burst at almost the same moment and the spillways poured the frothy contents into and upon one another's sex organs as they collapsed in total exhaustion from the ferocity of the hurricane of passion and the overwhelming force of the tidal wave of their outpourings which was only now beginning to ebb.
Later, George wanted to go down and eat her pussy but Betty said that the violence of their fucking had left her crotch so sore that she doubted that she would be able to touch it with a powder puff. This fact in no way dampened her ardor for his sex and soon she was nestled between his thighs taking the limp cock in her mouth and treating it to the most wondrous oral massage. Her tongue flicked at it like a Water-Pik cleaning your teeth while her lips and gums made like a Jacuzzi bath until the limp member was far from limp. She had no trouble getting every bit of it in her mouth and throat now and began taking full length strokes from the very tip of the glans to the point where the big vein along the bottom disappeared into his hairy balls. Her lips made tender demands while her finger tips encouraged his balls to disgorge their contents as she tongued and licked and sucked and gum-pumped the full length of his swollen cock, treating it to the most ecstatic torture while she made little moans and grunts through her nostrils as though begging for the sweet meats of his sex nuts. Her mouth became a powerful vacuum pump and before long George felt the eruption start beneath his big toenails and flood upwards until the head of his cock swelled in her throat like a puff-adder and then spewed its venereal venom in jet after jet of hot jism which she swallowed avidly, as though life itself depended upon her ingestion of his liquid cream.
After she returned to her house, George enjoyed the best night's sleep that he had had in weeks. Lately, insomnia had been troubling him. Now he realized that there are few physical problems of middle age that don't respond positively to copious treatments of youthful sex.
During the next few days and nights, George and Betty had a chance to get well acquainted socially as well as physically. She confessed to him that her penchant for older men was an outgrowth of a girlhood crush on her Uncle Bob; a love which was totally unrequited. She went on to say how happy she was that she had waited for an experienced older lover to initiate and train her in the art of sex. In time, she got to the real point of her conversation on the subject.
"George, I don't quite know how to approach this and I hope you won't misunderstand or be angry with me for having let a little secret out of the bag. You see, I have these three really close girl friends. Ever since we've been in grammar school we've told each other everything. Things we wouldn't dare tell our parents. There are absolutely no secrets between us and none of us would violate the other's trust so we feel that we can safely confess our innermost secrets to each other. Anyway, what I'm getting at is that I told these girls about you and how great you were at leading me into a mature sex life."
"My God, Betty. Do you realize that you could've been talking me right into prison. If one of those kids would've told her mother about you and I, I'd be in the steel chateau tomorrow."
"Don't sweat it. They'll never tell a soul. I think in a moment when you hear the rest of the story, you'll even be glad that I told them about us."
"I doubt that very much, but go on," George urged, anxious to see just how deep she had gotten him involved.
"Well, it's like this. I have them thoroughly convinced that it is best to get your sex training from an older man. They all agree but none of them knows any older man that they could even approach on this subject. They're very envious of me for having you as my sex instructor. I'm the type of girl that likes to share the good things in life with my friends. At least with my closest friends. Well, what I'm trying to say is that the girls would like to meet you and wonder if you'd be willing to train them in the ways of sex just as you've trained me."
George Ross could hardly believe his ears. He was the most fortunate of "Dirty Old Men" to have a fifteen-year-old paramour but now she was offering to procure three more nymphets for his sex stable.
Yeah, verily, George thought to himself, my cup does indeed runneth over.
"What do you say?" Betty urged him out of his daydreaming.
"I really don't know. I'm still in shock," George explained. "Perhaps you'd better tell me a little bit more about them before I commit myself."
"Well, let's see now. One of the hardest things for me to do has always been to describe one good friend to another, without doing them both an injustice. All three girls are from good families and are, I think, quite attractive. That is, they aren't little tubs of lard but have cute figures, well developed for their ages. Margo and Sally are both sixteen. They are brunettes, about five foot two. Both of them are virgins. Cathy is fifteen and a blonde with rather large breasts for a fifteen-year-old. She is about five foot and looks even older than the other girls, even though she's a year younger."
"Is she a virgin, also?" George interrupted.
"She isn't sure," Betty answered innocently.
"What the hell do you mean, she isn't sure. Who's in a better position than her to know?" George fairly exploded. Perhaps he didn't understand the younger generation as well as he thought he did. Remarks like this still threw him for a loss.
"Like I told you these girls are innocent and inexperienced. That's why they need you. Oh, hell, they know the facts of life. They know all about the birds and the bees and the butterflies and the pollen and all that high school biology happy horseshit. They know that babies are made by a man shoving his cock in a woman's cunt and cuming in it, at certain times of the month. When it comes to practical knowledge, they don't know shit from Shinola. That's why they need your help, George; just as I did."
"I understand, my dear, and I am more than willing to help but that still doesn't explain this young girl's remark that she doesn't know whether or not she's a virgin."
"Well, I can only tell it to you the way she told it to me. Cathy has been going steady with this boy for about six months now. Every time he could borrow his folks' car they'd park and have a hot necking session. One thing led to another and soon he started taking out his cock and having her jerk him off while he finger-fucked her. I've never understood what great thrill boys get out of playing stink-finger with a girl. I guess it's just that they feel they are doing something they shouldn't. Well, anyway, after a month or so of masturbating each other they graduated to going down on each other. Cathy says she enjoyed sucking him off but that when he went down and licked her pussy it just frustrated her because he got her all excited but nothing ever happened. Afterwards, she'd have to go home and finger her clit to get relief from her pent-up emotions. Then, she says, there was this night that he became insistent upon putting it in her. She stroked him and sucked him but still he wanted to get it inside of her. She thought she was in love with him and was afraid that she might lose him if she refused, so finally she spread her legs and he crawled between them. He was terribly excited by now and Cathy was very frightened. She remembers him working the burning tip of his cock into the lips of her vagina and then lunging forward into her. She says she felt several sharp pains but then, suddenly, he spewed his spunk but it was all out at the mouth of her cunt. She thinks that he blew his load before he broke through her hymen. In that case, even though she's had a prick cum in her pussy, she's still technically a virgin because her hymen is intact. Now, do you understand her remark about not being sure?"
Just listening to this third hand account of a juvenile sex experience had given George a throbbing thunker. He hadn't even met this young broad, Cathy, but already he had developed a crotch twitch over her. The very idea of a man his age being invited to deflower a covey of virgins in their teens made him feel like a character out of Arabian Nights.
Betty could see that his curiosity was piqued but that he was still a little reticent about getting sexually involved with a whole quartet of teen-age girls. That much juvenile quim could easily pussy-whip a man George's age. If she wanted him to bring her anxious girl friends in on a good deal, she would have to play it cool.
"I can see that you are undecided, George. I understand your worries. I know these girls, you don't. I'm not being fair in asking you to buy a pig in a poke. How can you judge people you've never even met. These girls have some money. Perhaps, we should have a get-acquainted party tomorrow night. After you have come to know them as I do, then you can make your decision as to whether or not you want to lead them into womanhood. They'll bring a big bottle of wine and a large pizza pie. I'll bring them with me and you can get acquainted with one another. I'm sure you will like them and want to help them. That can't do any harm, can it?" she asked plaintively.
"I suppose not," George agreed. Actually, he was enthralled with the idea of possibly becoming involved in a teen-age orgy but he was plagued with the conservatism of middle age and the fear of losing his happy home, such as it was.
"Fine, then it's settled. Now you'd better get to bed and have a good night's rest. I have a hunch you're going to need it. I'll bring the girls over around six tomorrow."
Before George could think of a comment to make, she had kissed him and left. He made his way to his little room off the kitchen. His mind was spinning. Was he really up to handling all this action? He had already proven to himself that even at this stage of life, he could handle one sex; young nymphet-but four of them was quite another story. His sex life was on the crap table. If he didn't make the point on the back line he was quite likely to lose what he had already won on the front line. Betty was quite a sex prize all by herself. She was more than he had ever dreamed of having a few scant months before. The idea of parlaying his winnings in the sex sweepstakes up on a four-to-one basis was, of course, pretty tempting. Few men on the downhill side of their sex lives could resist such a temptation. On the conservative side of the talisman, Betty provided him with as much sex as he could hope to handle. She was pretty prime stuff. Would he be a complete and utter fool to gamble away his present position as a sexual gourmet for the potential role of a sexual gourmand?
"It surely won't hurt just to meet them," Betty repeated with typical feminine logic.
"No, I suppose not," George said.
"Fine. Now you get a good night's rest and I'll bring your new pupils over to meet their old professor at around six tomorrow evening."
George thought that he had actually heard her say this. Soon he realized that the logical argument had existed only in his mind since Betty had left him several minutes earlier. Maybe he was going out of his mind, but one way or the other, he was now committed.
George fell into a fitful sleep, filled with wild dreams. He saw himself as a sylvan satyr.
The next night, a little after six, Betty arrived with her three friends. The girls looked so terribly young in their sweaters and skirts and saddle shoes. They looked like mere children. Soon they were sharing a gallon bottle of vin rose and a huge pizza pie. Everyone seemed ill at ease and George was sure that this entire scene was a big mistake. Betty looked back and forth amongst them and seemed to be laughing to herself.
"I'm afraid that my friend, George, thinks you look awfully young. Maybe he's worried that you'll try to sell him Girl Scout cookies. He doesn't understand that we dress 'little girl like' on purpose so that our folks won't realize how grown up we are when we go out at night. Perhaps the best way to make him realize how mature you are is to turn this into a nudist party. So, off with the girlish buttons and bows and on with the womanly buttocks and boobs!"
Before George could offer a word of protest-not that he was about to-the four young girls began to shed their clothing. Within minutes it was raining sweaters, skirts, bras and panties. Old George's bulging eyes darted around the room like a kid trying to keep up with all the acts at a three ring circus.
A nameless Madison Avenue philosopher in a gray flannel suit once said, "Clothes Make the Man." Any patron of the popular topless and bottomless cocktail lounges will tell you that "Absence of Clothes Makes the Woman." There is no faster or surer way for an adolescent girl to be treated as a woman, rather than a child, than to simply remove her clothing and display her mature body.
George began to drool at both ends as he feasted his eyes on the sexual smorgasbord that was spread with such appetizing goodies before him. On every side he was tempted by firm young tits, well-rounded asses and unbelievably hairy cunts. A scant few minutes before he felt like an old fart surrounded by little girls. Now, suddenly, he was a powerful cocksman surrounded by sexy, eager women. At first he was haunted by the thought that he was nothing more than a lecherous old man who suddenly found himself in the garden of the young virgins.
"C'mon, George. Either you take your clothes off, too, or the girls will put theirs back on. Don't be afraid, they won't bite you," Betty chided the older man.
George complied immediately. He couldn't take his eyes off of these three lovely new virgins who had come to him for deflowering and proper sex instruction. They may have had the faces of children but they surely had the bodies of women. They were ripe for fucking and sucking and all those good things. From all appearances they had been ready for several years. Suddenly, he thought of what he had learned in sociology classes at Stanford, many years before. There are many primitive cultures and societies in which the young people are delivered to the elders of the opposite sex for deflowering and sexual indoctrination. He just hoped that they were entertaining no wild notions of his ability to service all three of them, plus taking care of Betty again, in this one evening. Sexy senior citizen he was-Superman he wasn't!
"Hurry and get your pants off, George," Betty urged him on. "Margo and Sally have never seen a real live penis close-up. They're about to cream in their jeans-if they were wearing any-in anticipation."
George unbuckled his belt and ran down the zipper of his fly. The girls eyes were wide and they seemed to be swallowing a lot more than necessary. He dropped his slacks and then looked down. His shorts looked like he was trying to smuggle a flagpole. He had a hard time getting the elastic waistband down over his swollen drooling dong. As it popped out and stood proudly erect a little gasp went up from the three young virgins. At the moment George wished that he had three cocks to offer them tonight. He paraded around the room letting each of his sex novitiates get a good look at what was in store for them. He wondered which of the lovely trio of nymphets would be the first to take his big hard hot cock between her legs and into her belly. He rather hoped that it might be little Cathy. The girl was taller than the others with huge tits that gave her the look of being top-heavy. There was no doubt that she was a natural blonde. An unbelievable growth of soft lush blonde hairs formed a mammoth triangle which rose from its apex in her crotch nearly up to her navel. George's twitching cock just throbbed to forage its way through that dense growth and explore the treasure trove of the love cave that lay hidden in the very center of that vulva verdure. He was, therefore, somewhat disappointed at Betty's proposed modus operandi.
"The way I suggest that we go about this training program is to have our new students observe before they attempt to participate, Tonight will, therefore, consist of a sex-orientation demonstration in which they'll merely be an audience to our sex acts. They will watch us engage in normal intercourse and also go down on each other. In this way they will know what to expect when it comes their turn in the saddle. Afterwards, they can ask us both questions and we can discuss the various aspects of their impending sex lives. I'm sponsoring these neophyte nymphets and have given a great deal of thought as to the best way to program their metamorphosis from the cocoon of girlhood into the beautiful winged butterfly state of mature womanhood. Does everyone agree that this constitutes a logical and practical approach to this specialized quest for knowledge?"
The girls nodded dumbly in acknowledging their agreement to any study curriculum proposed by a more experienced teacher. Reluctantly, George found himself going along with Betty's program. Normally speaking, he would have been delighted at the prospect of enjoying Betty's body again. Until she had mentioned her friends this had been the height of his sexual ambitions. Now that he was offered such a tempting menu of varied delicacies it became difficult to content himself on the same old bill of fare upon which he had feasted so often in the recent past. The thought occurred to him that it was strange indeed how quickly a man's sexual palate could become jaded by a simple threefold increase in the meat menu.
If the girls felt any disappointment at having their initial role reduced to that of mere voyeurs, their excitement at the prospect of the impending sex show soon outweighed such feelings.
"And, now, if the students are ready," Betty announced in professorial tones, "your instructors will proceed with the laboratory demonstrations of the principles involved."
As the young girls assembled around them in awed silence and gave their rapt attention, Betty fell to her knees in front of the standing George. She grasped his huge turgid cock and stroked it lightly back and forth and then allowed her hands to fall back to his balls while she proceeded to lick the trembling head and staff until the glans was well coated with the clear pre-coital sex fluids. Betty made sure that they all saw the sticky liquid that made the swollen mauve glans glisten in the lamplight. Then she opened her mouth and took the head of George's cock and another inch for good measure into her mouth. She sucked and licked at it for several seconds and then pulled away from it, making little appreciative noises as she indicated to the enraptured girls that the heavy clear coating was now gone.
For his part George felt like a keg of dynamite whose fuse was burning short. There is a limit to how much a stiff prick can stand and George was close to the breaking point. Everywhere he looked he be held firm young female flesh and lovely patches of tender virgin cunt hair. Even though it would constitute a criminal waste of natural resources, he felt that any moment now he was in danger of spewing his love cream before he had a chance to get inside any of these lush young bodies.
Betty, having backed her mouth off of his twitching staff of manhood, lay back flat on the rug in a spread-eagled position and held her arms up to beckon him to join her. The moist crimson valley of her secret sex slit gaped open invitingly for all to see.
"Come, George, this is what the girls came here to watch tonight so that they'll know how to do it with you later. Show them with it looks like when a real man who knows what he's doing fucks a willing young girl. Come down here and fuck me. Let them see that big beautiful prick of yours cram its way into my pussy and ram in and out until I cum and cum and cum and then you plant your sweet semen in the valley of the purple-headed giant."
No normal man who suddenly found himself the star of the show in front of such a delightful audience could resist the temptation to "ham it up" just a little. George placed his hands on his hips and thrust his hips forward so that his hot throbbing prick jutted forth proudly like the bowsprit on a sailing vessel. He turned from one side to the other to give all three of the breathless young girls the full view of his throbbing manhood as they watched in wild-eyed speechless awe. Then, taking the swollen shaft in his hand as the clear juices oozed from the slit in its throbbing tip, he sunk to his knees and leaned forward until the burning glans parted the soft lips of her gaping cunt. Slowly, he thrust forward and the girls gasped as inch after inch of the huge sex buried itself inside of Betty's hairy crotch until, at last, it had completely disappeared from view. For her part, Betty moaned in sheer ecstasy at the tender onslaught. The erotic sensitivities of her highly erogenous zones seemed tripled by the consciousness of the three pairs of admiring eyes of her peers.
George tried to make the show as exciting for them as possible by taking the longest strokes he dared in and out of her soft warm cunt. They had moved in close now and he pulled out so that they were treated to the view of the full length of his meat from balls to corona. Only the very tip of the head still remained inside Betty's pussy before he pressed back forward until he buried it all in her tender sex hole. His female audience was breathing heavily now and beginning to perspire. Two of them had buried their fingers in their own hairy sex centers as he continued to saw in and out of his young sex partner. He found that his own sexual sensitivities were heightened by his constant awareness of the three lovely voyeurs who watched his every stroke in silent admiration and erotic anticipation of the moment when they would be called from the audience to assume a center stage role in the sensuous performance.
"Fuck me, George, fuck me harder and deeper. I'm about to come. Oh, my God, I'm cuming all over your wonderful big prick in my cunt. Nowwwwww!" Betty moaned as she flailed her head back and forth and rolled her eyes back in their sockets.
"That's right, Betty. Give it to me. I want to feel your cunt cum to my cock," George encouraged her-and his audience.
Betty sobbed and moaned and groaned as the massive orgasm swept through her open loins. She was being more vocal about it than usual, apparently intent upon seeing that her performance was enhanced with a fully synchronized sound track. The two girls who were fingering their clits brought that activity to a feverish pace, obviously anxious to join their friend in her orgasmic relief.
"Cum to me, George. I want to feel you shoot in my cunt. Drain your balls deep in my palpitating pussy and flood my belly with your hot jism. Give it all to me! Show the girls how you put eight inches in there and only take three inches out. Give it to me, lover man. Fill my cunt with your heavy hot cream."
George was showing off now, fucking her hard and furiously as he pinned her ass so tightly to the floor that she could hardly raise her cunt to respond to his ferocious onslaught against her hairy crotch. The girls around them had almost ceased breathing now, except in little periodic asthmatic gasps.
"Here it is, Betty. I'm going to cum deep in your cunt and give it a creamy lover's douche. Feel it swelling way down inside there. In just a second I'll gush out all of my hot jism into your very womb. Here it comes!" he grunted in the final efforts of the climax of his intercourse.
Betty trembled and shuddered beneath him as though her cunt was the epicenter of an earthquake. She let out a little scream as she orgasmed at the very feel of the flood he was loosening deep down inside of her. One of the girls began to sob and moan and George realized that fucking in front of an audience this way increased the thrills for the performers as well as providing them for the viewers. This had to be the fuck of a lifetime and he thought that he would never stop cuming. It was like all of the bone and marrow in his body was melting and flowing out of his cock into the lovely young girl beneath him on the carpet in his daughter's house. When the delightful deluge of his discharge finally ceased he fell on top of Betty as limp as a dish rag, almost unaware of the sudden hubbub of conversation between the members of their select audience.
When he finally regained enough strength to climb off of the supine girl he displayed only a two-inch vestige of the proud eight-inch charger that he had crammed into her ten minutes earlier. The girls giggled nervously and rushed to Betty, suddenly mindful of his presence.
"Did it hurt?" Cathy asked Betty, excitedly.
"Well, if it did, I wish I could figure out a way to stay in that kind of pain forever," Betty said, smiling weakly at her friend.
"Could you really feel it when he came inside of you?" Margo asked as though the thought was inconceivable.
"Of course, silly. Can't you feel the soapy water flushing into your bowels when your mother gives you an enema? It's much the same," Betty explained patiently.
"I know that I said I wanted to try it," Sally spoke almost fearfully, "but I'm sure that it would be utterly impossible for anything as big as that thing of his to fit into a tiny little hole like mine."
"Don't worry, Sally, you'll have a chance to find out soon enough." Betty tried to calm her fears, "Think of it this way. Your rectum is so tight that sometimes you can't even work your little finger into it; yet, when you have to go, it stretches painlessly. Have you ever looked in the toilet bowl before you flushed it? Some of your bowel movements that have come comfortably out of that tight hole are even larger than George's cock. It is all a matter of elasticity. Your pussy works the same way, in reverse. As soon as you learn to relax the muscles and let it dilate naturally, you will find that you can accommodate any size male organ with little or no effort, or even consciousness of its size."
Margo and Betty then went to the kitchen to heat the pizza and pour the wine. George felt a little awkward left alone in the room with the two naked girls who kept staring at his shrunken pecker which now resembled a peanut more than a banana. Since he was momentarily embarrassed to look into their eager young faces, he let his gaze rest upon their pubic mounds. He could still not get over the heavy crops of cunt hair on these young girls. Suddenly, he noticed that it looked different from when he had first observed the beards on their pussies. Now the hairs seemed damp and matted. He was anxious to smell and taste those wet furry triangles but since Betty had set up this action he had best follow her timetable. He would die now if anything happened to abort the missions that he had in mind so he would restrain himself, sit back, and leave the countdown entirely up to the show's producer, Betty.
While they ate and drank Betty suggested that everyone might feel more at ease if they had a frank discussion group on the topic at hand-sex. She suggested that the girls ask questions in order to get the open conversation flowing. As usual in such situations, nobody wanted to be the first to speak. Finally Betty turned to Cathy, "Why don't you ask George a question about male sex. Any question at all that you've always wondered about. Then he will ask you a question in return about girl sex. That should get the ball rolling."
Cathy seemed to have a hard time phrasing her question. After several false starts she blushed attractively and fixed her attention on her toes, rather than on George as she asked him, "In sex education classes at school they talk a lot about young boys and masturbation and midnight emissions. I've wondered about this but never had the nerve to ask a boy about it. When you were our age, or younger, did you use to masturbate a lot and did you have wet dreams?"
"Why, of course, I did," George grinned at the attentive young faces. "All the guys did. Any man that tells you he never jerked-off or had wet dreams is either a saint or a liar, and you'd be amazed at how few saints we meet in this life. Would you like to hear about the first time I jacked off?"
The girls all nodded excitedly. He had their rapt attention now, like he was about to let them in on the deepest, darkest secrets of the life of the opposite sex.
"Well, I remember I was about twelve years old and I didn't even know that such a thing as sex existed. Although I never really thought much about it, I guess that I still believed that the stork brought babies. You see, we didn't have such a thing as sex education in those days and our parents wouldn't have thought of even mentioning the subject to us. Mothers were supposed to have 'that talk' with their daughters and fathers to have it with their sons but, for the most part, they were too embarrassed by the taboo subject to ever broach it. What little we ever learned, we kids had to learn from each other. It's too bad, too, because we all learned a lot of false knowledge that we had to unlearn in later years. Well, anyway, I remember I woke up late one night feeling like I had to pee something awful. I got out of bed and went, half-asleep, to the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat and tried to pee but nothing happened. My little cock was all swollen and hard and standing straight out from my belly like it never had before. I figured that it was just because I had to pee so bad. I was afraid that when I did let go it would go all over the back of the toilet so I took it in my hand and tried to pull it down to aim it into the toilet bowl. It felt awfully good when I stroked it downward that way and I sensed that if I kept rubbing it back and forth it would finally start to let loose with the stream of pee. The harder I tried, the tighter it got but then it began to feel better and better as I stroked it up and down. It must have gone on for about ten minutes, feeling better all the time. I guess by then I couldn't have stopped even if I wanted to. Then finally it was as though something squeezed -the tip of my cock very tightly and then broke. The next thing I knew this heavy hot white stuff was shooting out instead of pee. It hurt at first, like a bowel movement when you're constipated and have to force it out. Then, towards the end, it felt real good. At first I was scared. I thought that I was sick and that something terrible was happening to me. My first inclination was to run to my parents and tell them what had happened. As soon as all of the heavy white stuff shot out, the swelling went down and I began to pee quite normally, except that it burned a little. By the time I finished taking my leak my pecker was hanging back in its normal limp manner and I didn't hurt any more so I went back to bed. By the next morning I had forgotten all about it so I didn't mention it to my folks."
"Was that the only time it happened to you?" Sally took up the questioning of the older man.
"Good heavens, no. A few nights later it happened again. This time it didn't scare me because I knew what to expect and how to cure it. I stroked it until it felt so good I couldn't stand it. It felt especially good when I tickled and rubbed this big vein down here." George lifted his limp cock and indicated the seminal discharge tube along the bottom length of his shaft. "When the heavy white stuff shot out tonight it hardly hurt at all and felt even better than it had the first time. Afterwards, I didn't even have to pee. I began to look forward to the next time it would get hard and I could do it again. Then, one day, I was taking a hot bath. I was washing my privates real good with soap when they started to get hard from the attention. When my cock was fully erect I stroked it with my soapy palm. This felt better than anything ever had before. I kept putting more soap on my hand and watched as I stroked it up and down under the warm water. The head stuck out above the water and soon it began to swell up to where it would seem it was about to burst. Then three separate jets of the heavy white stuff shot out. They must have gone over a foot in the air before they fell back into the bathwater. I remember thinking that if this was a disease I hoped they'd not found a cure for it."
The girls giggled not only at his remark but because just talking about it, his cock was beginning to expand and reerect.
"After that I began taking a hot bath every night. My folks thought that my hygiene classes in school were having a profound effect upon me. Actually it was just that I'd discovered what fun I could have in the tub with my own little cock."
"Did you relate this pleasure to girls?" Margo asked him.
"No, believe it or not, I didn't realize that it had any connection at all with the opposite sex. As far as I was concerned this was just a way that boys could enjoy themselves," he answered in simple honesty.
"Well, then, when did you first find out about girls?" Cathy asked, fully caught up in the intimate narrative now.
"It was almost a year after I first started playing with myself. I went to this girl's birthday party. There were about eight couples of kids there and we played party games like 'spin the bottle' and all that kid stuff where you wind up kissing. There was this one real pretty girl there that I'd never met before. She was well developed for her age and I got to kiss her five or six times. I'd never really kissed a girl that way before and about the third time I held her body close and kissed her I got this hard-on. She must have felt it and known what it was all about because the next couple of times when I kissed her she pressed her body up real tight to it and I thought I was going to shoot my load right in my party pants. That night I kept dreaming about her kisses and the feel of her soft warm body pressed up against my hard cock and I shot a load right there in bed. It was my first wet dream. I didn't dream that I actually had it inside of her, or anything like that. Even then the connection wasn't too clear."
"Then when did you really go all the way with a girl?" Sally asked.
"Oh, I remember that clearly enough. It was the summer just before my fifteenth birthday. My cousin, Emma, came to spend two months with us while her folks went to Europe. She's a year older than me and she was no virgin even then. Within a few days after she arrived we started having hot necking parties. Boy, but that girl could kiss? The minute her lips touched mine my cock popped up like a jack-in-the-box. Pretty soon she had me sucking her tits and she took out my cock and stroked it until I'd shoot off in her hand. Then she got me to run my. hand up her skirt and into her panties and play stink-finger with her. One day I did it and she didn't have on any panties. When she took out my stiff cock she turned up her skirts and pulled me down on top of her and started rubbing the head of my cock in her hairy gash. The next thing I knew it was inside of her and we were fucking. It felt infinitely better than my hand, or even hers. After that we screwed every day. When she had the rag on she'd go down and suck me off. Later she taught me to go down on her, but mostly we just fucked-fucked-fucked all summer."
"Did you still masturbate and have wet dreams?" Margo insisted on knowing.
"Are you kidding? Why drink beer with so much vintage booze right there at hand?" George laughed. "As for wet dreams, she didn't leave anything wet in my balls by bedtime every night."
George hadn't realized it but reliving those early days of his sex life had given him a roaring hard-on. Now, as he got up and crossed to the table to refill his wine glass the young girls all giggled excitedly. On his way back to his seat he paused in front of each of them and invited them to feel of it and to lick the clear drool from its tip. Each was more than anxious to do so. Betty watched the action in silent amusement but would not allow it to go any further for this first session.
"When did you first become aware of sex?" George asked Cathy next. "I would like to know all about your sexual awakening from the very beginning."
"I'll tell you the truth if you will all promise not to laugh at me and call me childish or stupid. If this session is going to mean anything to us I think we all owe it to George to be just as frank and forthright as he was in answering our questions. Okay?" she asked the other girls, almost as a challenge.
When they had all nodded their agreement, Cathy began to narrate the dawn of her own sex life, "Even though the period in which I was raised is supposed to be a more enlightened generation than that of George's youth, it might as well have been the Dark Ages as far as my family was concerned. Would you believe that I never remember having seen either my father or my mother undressed? In our house everyone locks the door when they go to the bathroom. We never lounge around in robes or pajamas. My parents stay fully clothed, except that my father removes his coat and tie when he comes home from work, until bedtime. Then they retire to their bedroom, they do so fully dressed and lock the door once they're inside. In the morning they are fully dressed before they unlock the door and emerge. If our house were to catch fire in the middle of the night I think they'd rather burn to death than run out in the street in their night clothes. My folks still believe that sex is a dirty word. Maybe that's why I'm an only child. Maybe they tried it once and didn't like it and never tried it again. I'm telling you this so that you'll understand my early experiences. I mean, I was really so square it's sad. Like honest, I was brought up believing that my pussy had no purpose other than to pee out of just as my asshole had no purpose other than to shit out of. I must have been ten or eleven before I saw pictures in the museum that showed that women's tits were used to nurse an infant. I never questioned where that infant came from. If I'd have asked my mom she'd have told me babies come from heaven. Sometimes I wondered what women did with their tits when they weren't nursing babies. I never dreamed that they, or those other parts of the anatomy, could be sources of physical pleasure. I never even paid much attention to my own body, other than to keep it clean. Then, when I was between twelve and thirteen, I began to notice that I was getting a growth of fuzz around my snatch. I had never seen my mother, or any other grown woman in the nude and I didn't know anything about pubic hair. I thought that I was turning into some kind of freak, like a bearded lady at the circus. It frightened me. I wondered if I should try to shave it off, or something. My toilet habits have always been very regular so I never went to the girls' room at school. Because I have a slight asthmatic condition I have always gotten a medical excuse from gym, so I never had occasion to see other girls' bodies, even. So this fuzz down there began to worry me more and more. I was afraid to mention it to my mother but each day, after school, I'd rush home and check my crotch. I kept hoping it would just go away but it got heavier and heavier. Within months I had a real beard down there and it kept spreading higher and higher. As you can see, my pubic hair covers twice the area of any of the rest of you." She stood up and ran her fingers through the huge blonde triangle to emphasize her point. "Soon I began to check on the progress of the growth with a hand mirror. It was in this way that I became aware of my internal sex parts. I used to spread my legs and hold the mirror down there and stare in awe at my insides. Soon I was examining them with my fingers and I soon discovered that touching some areas felt better than touching others. At that point I never brought myself to orgasm-with my fingers but I did become aware that it could feel good just to be touched down there."
"That's real weird, Cathy, because I had the exact same experience," Sally interposed.
"Yeah, me, too," Margo added, encouragingly.
"Well, anyway, one day in school I got this awful stomach ache. I figured it was something I had eaten. I thought I had a little fever along with it because I felt like I was sweating all over. After school, as usual, I rushed home and right into the bathroom to examine my new 'beard' with the hand mirror. I almost fainted when I discovered that my panties were soaked with blood. I feared that the hair had been the warning of some dread disease, like the Black Plague, and that I had ignored the warning and now I was bleeding to death from it."
"What did you do then?" George asked. Hearing about a young girl's first reaction to menstruation was all new to him. His wife had never mentioned the subject and surely his daughter Alice hadn't; at least, not to him.
"Well, I was scared to death. I had never bled from anything more serious than a cut finger or skinned knee. Now I was bleeding internally and I was sure that I was about to die. I ran to my mother and told her what was happening to me."
"What was her reaction?" Betty asked her friend.
"She seemed more annoyed and embarrassed than anything. She gave me an aspirin tablet and told me to put on fresh panties. Then she took me over to see this, old nurse. She must have been sixty years old. She just left me there while she went shopping. The old nurse, who had never been married and I doubt had ever been with a man, brought out books and charts and explained all about the menstrual cycle and the testicles and the ovaries and all that junk. She insisted upon examining me and kept poking her fingers in me and rubbing places that made it feel good. I later figured out that the old maid was a bull dyke and probably would like to have gone down on me but I guess I was so messy and smelly down there that it turned even her off. She kept talking about sex, but I'm sure she was quoting books rather than talking from personal experience. She made menstruation sound like a punishment since she kept referring to it as 'the white woman's curse." I often wondered later where the bigoted old bitch got that term since I have a lot of black girl friends and I found out they are plagued with the same curse as us white girls."
"What was your attitude towards sex after you went through that first menstrual period?" George asked the young blonde.
"I was tremendously curious about the whole subject. I remembered that on the page opposite a medical diagram the nurse had showed me there was a diagram of the male sex organs. I had never seen any and I wanted to very much. I had to content myself for almost a year with self-examination of the female genitals. I began to finger and massage myself there and it felt very good although I never brought myself to orgasm. Probably, I just quit too soon. You see, I didn't even know that there was supposed to be any climax. I had no idea what orgasm meant, much less felt like."
"Do you know now?" Margo asked her.
"Yes, of course, I do. You can't stay a baby forever. About a year later I began dating boys. You know, when I look back on it I guess it's really kinda funny. I was just the opposite of most girls. If a guy didn't try to get fresh with me on the first date I never gave him a second chance. I wanted to learn about sex and I had no patience with hand holding and tit squeezing. I wanted to go the full route. When I met Bobby I thought I'd found the answer to a maiden's prayer. The very first time we went out he took me to the movies. Before we even finished our box of popcorn he was running his hand up my skirt and into my panties. I was all hot and sticky and he seemed to know just where to touch and rub and I began to squirm around in that seat like mad. He had his whole hand in my panties and had two fingers in me and the others were doing wondrous things to my seething sex. Then he took one of my hands in his free hand and led it to his lap and placed it on his cock. It was like I had a hold of a red hot poker through his pants. I really went wild now and soon the most marvelous feeling swept through me and I saw a million shooting stars and my crotch got all wet and slimy and I had my first orgasm. He told me later that my snatch squeezed him so hard it almost broke his two embedded fingers. I wanted to unzip his fly and run my hand inside and feel that real flesh of manhood. Just then the damned usher lit us with his flashlight to show people to the empty seats next to us. We both pulled our hands back quickly and that ended it for that night. The following Friday, Bobby borrowed his folks' car and we went to a drive-in movie way out on the edge of town. I took off my panties so they wouldn't get in his way and pulled up my skirt so that he could see, as well as feel, me. That night he used both hands and did a wonderful job. When I came all over his fingers I heard the angels sing. Then I took out his cock and balls and examined them closely with both my eyes and my hands. I was completely fascinated by his male anatomy. I rubbed and tickled and stroked him while I watched his stiff cock tremble and throb at my touch. At last he got very hot and then these geysers of white syrup shot out of the tip like 'Old Faithful' going off. I watched, enthralled, as they rose a foot or more in the air and then fell back on his dark trousers. A lot of it got all over my hand and we had to clean it off as best we could with his handkerchief."
"Did you think about how it would be to have that stuff shoot out of his cock into your cunt?" George asked her.
"No, I didn't. I was still pretty stupid. I knew that we could massage each other's organs and bring them to a pleasurable climax but I had no conception of the fact that that massage could be administered with anything other than the hands. I was totally ignorant of actual fucking."
"What happened next?" Sally asked her.
"Nothing, really. For months after that we were content just to play with each other's genitals and masturbate one another to climax. As far as I was concerned, that was all there was to sex. Then one night he was sucking my tits which had begun to grow very rapidly in the past few months. They seemed to fascinate him. Each week they were larger than the week before. On this particular night he sucked and nibbled on my nipples far longer than usual. I was beginning to get very excited from his attentions. I even thought he could make me cum by just sucking and chewing on my tits."
"Yeah, a guy made me cum that way once," Margo interjected.
"Well, it didn't really happen to me," Cathy continued, "after he got his fill of my boobs he began to kiss me beneath them and then over my stomach and in my belly button and then down into that big patch of cunt hair. Finally he spread my legs and brought his face right to my snatch and began to do things to it with his tongue and lips that he had previously done only with his fingers. I felt like my delicate parts were being massaged with a live wire. He licked and slurped and sucked and nibbled at my sex until I thought I would go wild. At last I could stand it no more and I let go a flood of cum in his face. I was terribly embarrassed. Like I had just farted in his face, but he seemed to enjoy it. Later he came up and kissed me. His lips were all gooey and funny tasting. Suddenly, I realized that I was tasting my own sex juices on them. Then he asked me to go down and lick and suck on his big cock and to take it in my mouth and suck him off and swallow his cum. Under the circumstances of the moment I could hardly say 'no', so I went down and sucked his cock. It wasn't nearly the unpleasant experience that I thought it would be. I was really beginning to enjoy it when he blew his load in my mouth. If anyone had ever asked me I'd have said I was sure I would throw up under such conditions. My reactions were the exact opposite. It was like the first time I ever tasted a coconut malted. I loved it from the very first sip. I hungrily gulped down every bit of it and wished that there had been more. He came so much that it was running out of my nostrils and drooling down over my chin when I pulled off of his cock, but I loved every moment of the experience. Some girls are born to suck cock and I am happy to be one of them."
"Did you ever let him really fuck you?" Sally asked her, Betty and George exchanged knowing glances but remained silent, wondering if Cathy would be as honest with these other girls as she had been with Betty. Of course, George had gotten the story from Betty.
"Well, the only way I can honestly answer that is to say 'yes and no,' even though that sounds evasive," Cathy grinned. "Here's what happened. For many months after that first experience we kept going down and sucking each other off. It was better than hands but we both wondered if it was really as good as the 'real thing.' For the most part I think that we were both so happy with what we had that we were almost afraid to try for higher stakes in the sex lottery. Then this one night we were both hotter than two dollar pistols. Bobby kept begging me to let him put it in. I don't know why I resisted, but I did. At last, he wore down my resistance. I lay back on the seat of the car and spread my legs and he crawled between them with his throbbing twitching cock in his hand. I'll never forget the thrill when I felt the burning head of it rub into my vaginal lips and creep inside of my secret places. He felt it, too. Soon he moved forward and got the whole head in and then a little before he encountered the obstruction of my intact hymen. I was dying to have him break through that membrane and get that big hard cock all the way up inside of me. He lunged once and then twice, bouncing off of the protective wall and then suddenly he flooded the lips of my cunt with his hot cream. He had shot his load before he had broken down the barrier. I was aflame with passion but he was suddenly incapable of doing anything about it. I was in the ridiculous position of having had a man cum in my cunt and yet still technically being a virgin. I don't mind telling you it was pretty fucking frustrating. That night I decided that Bobby wasn't man enough for me. Even though I was determined to shut him off, I had no replacement in mind. Then Betty came along and told me about the merits of a more mature lover and how happy she was with George here. Suddenly, I wanted an older man to take sexual care of me but I had no idea where or how to find one. Then Betty offered to share George with me and I knew that I had found the answer to my problem. That's my story, what's yours?" The junior member of the trio looked to her two older compatriots.
"Just a moment," Betty interrupted. "We all know that confession is good for the soul and that talk-out sessions are one of the best ways of really getting to know and understand one another. Nonetheless, I had planned that this first session was to be largely a demonstration one. I think that we should now have an intermission in the confessionals and resume the laboratory displays of the gentler forms of the art of sex."
"Hey, this isn't fair. You're having all the fun and we're just standing on the sidelines playing with ourselves. I thought you promised to share George with us," Sally objected.
"All in due time. Each of you will have your full evening with George and, on those occasions, I will content myself by merely being an observer, as you are tonight. If you don't like the curriculum of this course, you are free to withdraw from it here and now. It is my firm conviction that any student must first learn by observation, then by experimentation."
"Okay, okay, we'll go along, even though you are torturing us. What next?" Margo put in.
"Well, this is something that I hadn't planned on for tonight, but it was brought up minutes ago by Cathy in her sincere recital. All of you are virgins. Earlier, George and I showed you what it is like to have a man's cock in your cunt. Cathy mentioned that she had always thought a cunt was just for peeing and an asshole just for shitting. We are now going to demonstrate to you that the second concept is no more valid than the first. In short, my dear girls, you are going to observe our friend George as he fucks me up the ass!"
Her announcement left her audience momentarily stunned. In the interim Betty disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a jar of cold cream. She helped George to his feet. Every eye in the room was on his throbbing hard cock as she coated it liberally with the white cream. Then she dipped a finger into the jar and anointed her rear cavity. Once this was accomplished she crouched on her knees on the couch, bracing her shoulders against the back of it. Her knees were spread apart and George walked up between them as the girls gathered close to watch the demonstration of buggery.
George's coated cock glistened in the lamplight. Sally, at his right side, reached out to touch and stroke it as though unwilling to trust her eyes. George reached forward and spread Betty's buttocks wide with the palms of his hands. The valley of the tan starfish 'was exposed to the unrestricted view of all in the room. The little beige purse string suture of her ass seemed to undulate as though it had a mind of its own as he brought the well-lubricated head of his stiff cock closer and closer to it. The three young girls who were relegated strictly to the position of observers tonight gasped as the huge piston sought to force its way into such a tiny cylinder. George got a good grip on Betty's hipbones and pulled her back as he lunged forward with all of his might until the swollen greasy head of his cock disappeared into the little brown tunnel of her ass. He held still for a moment now, giving her rectal muscles a chance to relax, and the tight shaft a chance to dilate. At length George grasped her hips tightly once more and lunged forward, burying a full half of his huge pole in her spread buttocks. Betty began to wiggle her ass now and seemed to be thrusting it back to him to aid in making the anal penetration complete. The girls gave a gasp as, with a brutal lunge, all of his huge cock disappeared in her rectum.
"Oh yes, George. Fuck me up the ass! Ram that big beautiful prick of yours all the way into my asshole and flood my bowels with your sweet cum." Betty groaned as she undulated her hips back and forth to meet his every thrust.
He buggered her good now with long strokes that left only the tip of his swollen cock in her tan starfish and then crammed the balls deep into the tight brown stricture while the young girl squirmed around on the cock that impaled her from the rear and groaned in ecstatic pleasure.
"Oh, Betty, your sweet little asshole is so hot and tight that it's making my balls boil over. I can't cornhole you much longer, baby, I'm just about to blow up load now," he groaned.
Betty stepped up the pace at the sound of his words, bucking her buttocks back to him like a wild woman. At the same time she began to make little animal noises each time he would cram balls-deep into her hot ass. The audience realized that they were both about ready to cum and showed surprise that Betty could be brought to orgasm through her rear sex opening as well as her front.
"Now, George, now! Let me have it! I want to feel your hot jism giving me a sex enema and flushing my lower intestines. Cum in my ass!"
The girl began to shake as though caught up in a severe chill and then her older lover grasped her hipbones and drove into her anal canal mercilessly until he too came to a trembling crescendo and the girls who watched their every move in wide-eyed awe sweated and gasped at the realization that he was cuming up their girl friend's ass. When his wild, passionate gushings had finally thoroughly drained his balls, George nearly collapsed on top of the bent-over girl.
"Wow!" Margo exclaimed as George plopped his spent cock out of Betty's distended anus. "Now I know what my dad means by that corny old expression he uses."
"What expression is that?" Sally asked, still in a daze from the weird performance they had just witnessed.
"You bend over and touch your toes and I'll show you where the wild goose goes," Margo explained and the girls all snickered and broke the high tension of the moment.
While they relaxed again over a glass of wine Betty suggested that Sally and Margo give a brief rundown on their early sex experiences, or lack of same. A talk-out session is only fair if everyone bares his or her soul.
Little brunette Margo picked up the ball and began by narrating her early experiences. She had a tiny patch of cunt hair, compared to the blonde Cathy, and her titties were small but well formed. Her lips were quite full, which usually indicates sexuality and her eyes were large and wide set. There was something about her that made George think of the descriptive term "neat and petite." She was such a proper-looking young lady, even sitting here in the nude, that it was hard for George to realize that she was only here because she wanted this man, three times her age, to fuck her. There was no blushing or floor-staring where Margo was concerned. She looked around the small group and kept her voice level and her eyes high as she began her sex recital, "I'm afraid I can't say I was innocent of any knowledge of sex until recently. Nothing could be further from the truth. Based upon the depth of my knowledge of sex and the age at which I acquired it I suppose it is nothing short of a miracle that I am a sixteen-year-old virgin today, instead of a practicing whore with a wide following. In order that you understand what I am about to tell you, I must give you a certain amount of background information on my upbringing. About the time I was born, my father used to make an awful lot of money. I don't know just how because the folks would never talk about it. Well, anyway, something happened and by the time I was between three and four years old, Dad went broke. Fortunately, we had this big old house in a good neighborhood that was fully paid for but the maid and the gardener service fell by the wayside. Soon the grounds were overgrown and the place looked generally rundown. Dad, who had always been in business for himself, took a job and I guess he wasn't too happy about it. Even though he worked long hours he couldn't seem to make ends meet and soon Mom started working, too. That meant that even before I was five I was left at home a lot on my own except for an occasional friendly neighbor who would look in on me or bring me something to eat. While most kids under those circumstances would glue themselves to the television set, I became a bookworm. Daddy had this full scale library. He must have had thousands of books. Even before I learned to read I used to spend many happy hours just looking at the pictures in them and making up stories to fit them in my own mind. What used to fascinate me the most was a huge locked section of bookcases behind solid doors. Why would people want to lock up their books? Like most little girls I was consumed with curiosity as to what they contained. I used to think of these locked cabinets as being Pandora's box. I wondered what would escape if I could ever open them. One rainy afternoon I had tried to reading, or pretending to, and I was drawing on this big sketch pad someone had given me. I was completely engrossed with my artistic endeavors when I broke the point on the only pencil I had. I had never before dared to go into my father's big desk but now I did, in search of either another pencil or a sharpener. In one of the top drawers I discovered a small key hanging on a cup hook that had been screwed into the side of the drawer. I don't know what possessed me to do so but I tried the key in the locked cabinets and sure enough, it fit. My father was, obviously, one of the original 'Dirty Old Men' because those cabinets were crammed full of every type of dirty book, picture magazine and other forms of pornography. Mind you, I was about five years old when I made this discovery. I didn't understand what the people in the pictures were doing but they held a fatal fascination for me. I felt as though I was being allowed to eavesdrop on some secret rites and some sixth sense told me not to ever mention this to my parents. For years, even after I was in school, I would rush home, unlock the cabinets and look at the dirty books. As I got a little older I began to feel a strange excitement in my crotch as I went through them and often my panties would be moist and sticky when I had finished my perusal of Dad's porno collection. Unlike Cathy, I knew exactly what to expect when I started getting hair on my cooze. It meant that I was becoming an adult, like the women in the pictures, and soon I could do those strange things that they were doing. By the time I was thirteen I was anticipating sex more than anything else in life. My first experience was, therefore, somewhat surprising."
"In what way?" Betty encouraged her friend to continue.
"Well, one day I was way over on the other side of town, running an errand for Mother. I figured if I walked all the way home I could save the bus fare Mom had given me and buy an ice cream soda. I was trudging along the unfamiliar streets when this big car pulled over to the curb. There was a man my father's age inside. He opened the door and told me that he was a friend of my dad's and that he would drive me home. Like a little idiot, I hopped in the car. All I was thinking about was that I'd enjoy that ice cream soda sooner, thanks to the ride. Like I say, I was unfamiliar with the neighborhood, so I paid no attention to where he was going. As far as I was concerned we were heading for home. All of a sudden we're out in this deserted area with no houses or other cars around and he pulls over and parks. He tells me that he has something interesting to show me and then he opens his pants and takes out this huge cock and even pulled out his balls. I guess he thought he was showing me something I had never seen before and that I would turn to putty at the sight. How could he know that I had seen hundreds of cocks in all sizes, shapes and colors in those pictures in Dad's books. He grabbed my hand and forced me to touch it. I had no idea that it would be so hot. It was like he had a fever. Then he told me that he was going to put that thing in me, between my legs. He said it like I wouldn't know what he was talking about. Little did he know! He spread my legs and aimed that huge tree trunk at my tiny virgin pussy. In spite of the fact that I offered no resistance he almost split me in two just trying to get the head of that monster in me. I had never dreamed that it would hurt from the expressions on the faces of the people in the pictures, so I was suddenly shocked and frightened. He kept ramming it at me and the pain got worse and worse. I told him to wait a minute, that I had an idea I thought would make it easier for us. While he pulled away slightly I reached down and took off my shoe and whacked him in the balls as hard as I could. While he squealed in pain I jumped out of the car and ran for my life. My first close encounter with sex had left me so frightened and frustrated that I remained turned off on the subject for a long time afterwards. Then I began dating this real nice guy at school. I really wanted him to fuck me but he was an unbelievable square. Even when he kissed me and I'd shove my tongue in his mouth he never tried to play with my titties or anything. Finally I grabbed him by the cock. It was hard enough and I made it even harder. When I finally decided that the time had come I got real bold and unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock and kept stroking it as I spread my legs and pulled him towards my burning crotch. Just as the head of his hot prick grazed against my cunt hair I felt him twitch and jerk and suddenly I was all wet and sticky and he was shrinking like a deflated balloon. He had shot his load all over the outside of my cunt, creating more mess than relief. I was so frustrated I could have climbed walls. When I went to bed later that night I reached down to see if I had gotten all of his spunk cleaned off of me. I touched my clit and it felt real good so I kept rubbing and massaging it until I reached my first orgasm. The experience was so thrilling that now I knew I wanted sex, the real way. I couldn't stand the thought of having some other young swain blow his load before he made me crumble my cookies. Then Betty told me about her perfect arrangement with an older man and I decided that that was the answer for me too-so here I am."
Now that Margo had bared her soul to the rest of them, everyone looked to Sally. Sally was the same height as Margo and her hair was about the same color and yet, somehow, one would not use the word "petite" to describe her. Her tits were much larger and fuller. Even the nipples and the aureoles were larger and darker in color than Margo's. Her hips were fuller and she had a very slight tummy. The growth of pubic hair was larger and heavier than Margo's. She wasn't exactly chubby but she had a provocative amount of baby fat. She was best described as "cuddly".
Sally began her story, after looking around and checking each face as much as to ask if they would be understanding. Apparently satisfied, she started, a little hesitantly, "I'm afraid my experiences, or birth of them, are really so uninteresting that they will bore you. You have made me realize that I am so middle of the road that it's almost pathetic. I am neither as naively innocent of the facts of life as Cathy nor as cogently knowledgeable of them as Margo, My mom thought that she was progressive and tried to read all the literature on what to tell a daughter about the facts of life. When I first started to menstruate we had long talks. There were no secrets, no mystic rites. Mom laid it right on the line and, as a woman, I knew what was expected of me sexually and what I might expect in return. It was no more dull nor exciting than learning arithmetic or French. It was just another facet of the knowledge of life that I had to learn to grow up. Mother told me that there was a time in life for all things-including sex. She explained that all too many young people fouled up their whole future by trying to go against the social timetable. She told me of the tragic cases of young girls who got pregnant, or married, or hopefully both, before they were prepared to take on these responsibilities of life. She explained that today's society demands that people have a good and full education in order to achieve success. As a result they should finish college and only think of marriage and sex when they reach their mid-twenties. I had no reason to dispute her ideas. In all matters I have always accepted my mother's word as the gospel truth. This was no different, or so I thought at the time. The one thing Mom didn't explain to me is that the sex urge and desire is every bit as powerful in girls as it is in boys. When guys would try to 'make out' with me I'd tell them that I wasn't ready, that it wasn't time for that yet. They'd assume I meant to wait until our next date. After a while they got frustrated and gave up on me. Then I began waking up at night with hot sweats and a strange gnawing sensation in my crotch. Funny, but I didn't at first relate it to sex. I had to talk about it to somebody my own age and so I discussed it with Betty, since she's my closest friend. She got my head screwed on right on the subject. She told me about how you had helped her, George, and extolled the advantages of learning anything as important as sex from an experienced and qualified instructor. It made sense to me, especially when she related it to the fact that she would not for a moment consider jumping out of an airplane with a guy who had never made a sky-dive before."
The other girls commented among themselves for a few moments and then they all looked to George as though for words of mature wisdom. George was afraid that he might say the wrong thing and break the spell that had led him into this sexual Shangri-la. Finally, Sally asked him, "George, you are older and better educated than we are. Our parents and the society in which we live keeps telling us that there is a time in life for sex and yet we are all eaten alive with passions which we are told to cool and wait for fulfillment. Are we doing the wrong thing in wanting to break down the sexual barrier and enter into the society of real women while still in our mid-teens. You seem to be a nice guy whom we can rely upon to level with us. We have enough faith in you, from what Betty has told us about you, that we don't think that you would bullshit us just to crawl into our cunts. After all, we are only here because we're offering up our virginity to you. You appear to be the type of guy who would consider that to be a sacred trust and wouldn't violate it. Tell us, from your great depth of knowledge and experience, are we rushing life by wanting to participate in sex in our mid-teens? Should we wait another ten years, as society seems to dictate? Is there a perfect age at which to embark upon one's sex life, and if so, what is that age?"
George looked around over the bevy of young naked beauties. Their anxious, sincere eyes were fixed upon him as though he were a later-day Ovid, an oracle of sex. He couldn't bring himself to lie to these honest girls who had bared their innermost secrets to him. Even if it meant forgoing sex with them he had to give them an honest answer. He walked over and poured himself a glass of wine, draining the big bottle, before he settled down to answer their open-heart questions.
"Girls, it's been a good many years since I studied sociology at college but I doubt that the rules have changed any. What we are considering here tonight is the age-old battle between the laws of nature and the laws of society. Without wanting to sound religious about it, let's assume that nature's laws were created by God and society's laws were created by man. From the very dawn of history, mankind has been engaged in a moral tug of war between these two codes of behavior. Primitive man didn't have this problem. When he was hungry he simply hunted and killed and ate. When he grew tired he lay down and slept. There were no rules that dictated to him that he must eat at seven, twelve and six o'clock and go to sleep at ten at night and then awaken at six in the morning. The rules of his life were simple in that he did that which came naturally. As for his sex life, when he got an erection he simply approached the nearest female and inserted his stiff staff into any available orifice of her body that was convenient. Whether he addressed her vaginally, anally or orally was of no consequence. Nor did it matter whether the subject of his sexual gratification happened to be his mother, his sister or a total stranger. He was merely obeying a purely animalistic instinct. As our primeval forebears developed a form of society which we can refer to as civilization, man placed more and more yokes around his neck in the form of what became known as totems and taboos. As this so-called civilization progressed and grew, man came to think that his laws were wiser than and superior to those of God. The basic laws of nature became subordinated to the laws of man. This condition, like a cancer, fed upon itself until today society has a disdain for the laws of nature and insists that the universe revolve about and exist by its own prescribed principles. The ultimate culmination of this trend is our present-day society."
"Now, let's translate this in terms of the topic at hand-which is sex. We must remember that the forces of nature and the forces of society are at constant loggerheads. You girls have all related the experiences of your sexual awakening. Invariably, these have been on nature's-not society's-timetable. The human animal reaches what is known as a stage of puberty in the early teen years. This is evidenced by the sudden growth of pubic hair around the genital areas. It is further evidenced in the female by the onset of the menstrual process and in the male by the subconscious erection of the penis at periodic intervals. This is nature's way of telling us that the time for sex has arrived. Both male and female bodies have achieved maturity and are now capable of reproduction in order to perpetuate the species. As in other life forms this is the basic law of nature. But the man-made laws of society say 'NO! Nature is wrong. You may have these drives and urges and physical abilities but we decree that you must wait another ten years before putting these God-given blessings to use.' The pursuit of this false concept of morality is the seat of most of mankind's psychological and physiological problems. The older I get the more I am inclined to go along with nature. To give a straight and simple answer to your question, I think that the ideal age at which to begin one's sex life is the age that nature gave us the capabilities to engage in this happy activity."
If there were any doubts in the minds of the lovely young females present, George's erudite analysis of the socio-sexual scene removed them.
"Are there any among you who wish to back out rather than embark upon the sea of sex with friend George as your leader?" Betty asked the sexual novitiates in the room. There were no dissenting comments and so Betty announced that this first session had come to an end. The girls were invited to return here at the same time for the next three nights. They would draw cards and the high-draw would get George's deflowering attentions for that entire session while the others watched. All of a sudden the first meeting was over. George hated to see those lush female bodies cover themselves but slowly they got dressed again. The transformation was amazing. One minute, in the nude with tits and asses blossoming and cunt hair displayed, they were women. The next minute in skirts and sweaters and saddle shoes, they had returned to adolescence.
Ten minutes later he and Betty were alone again. They went in to check on young Jimmy and then came back to the den. Betty led him to the big leather club chair and urged him to sit while she fell to the floor between his legs and proceeded to lick and suck on his sex until he got hard and then continued to do so until he got quite soft again. After that she dressed and ran next door to home. It had been quite an evening for all concerned.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day seemed endless to George. He was living in anticipation of six o'clock but it seemed that someone had poured molasses in all of the clock movements. When a middle-aged man knows that he will have the privilege of smashing the cherry of one of three beautiful teen-age virgins that night, the day can seem to be a thousand hours long.
Betty arrived late that afternoon and took care of feeding Jimmy, giving him his bath, playtime and then putting him to bed an hour before her friends arrived. Neither she nor George made any move towards or even mention of personal hanky-panky. Both of them knew that he would need all of his sexual energies for what lay ahead of him that evening.
At about six thirty the girls arrived. Once again George was shocked by the difference that clothes made on these adolescents. In their sweaters and skirts and flat shoes they looked like they should be carrying dolls and bouncing a ball. Once they stripped off these "Babes in Toyland" costumes it became obvious that they themselves were the dolls and that the only balls they should bounce came in pairs and equipped with their own bats.
Once again Betty assumed the position of party director. Even stark naked she appeared to be wearing the robes of a Satanic priest in conducting the Black Mass. As George watched her, he had the feeling that this young broad was born to be a madam. Perhaps she was the reincarnation of Polly Adler. That famous New York madam had written a best-selling book entitled A House Is Not a Home. Perhaps young Betty would write its sequel, A Trip Around the World Is Not a Cruise.
Betty approached the coffee table carrying a deck of cards with all of the dignity of a priest about to serve communion. She handed the deck to George to shuffle.
"Now girls, you are all three anxious to have George lead you from childhood into womanhood. Obviously, he can only do this to one of you tonight. Our selection will be made by the simple expedient of cutting the cards. The girl cutting the highest card will become a woman tonight. The other two will have to wait until tomorrow night and the following night. Are you ready to determine which of you will cross the one-way threshold tonight? You all understand that once you have entered the portals of this new domain you can never return to the status of life in which you have lived up until now."
"Who calls this living?" Margo quipped and they all snickered to make light of the momentous decision which they were facing.
"Very well then, Margo, you may draw the first card," Betty announced.
Margo made a big ceremony of the cut but came up with the nine of diamonds.
Sally cut very deep in the deck and produced the four of clubs. She muttered "Shit" and Margo looked pleased. Then the hairy blonde Cathy closed her eyes and turned over about half the deck, exposing the jack of hearts. George was pleased because, while they were all very attractive young ladies, there was something about this Cathy that really turned him on.
George led the blonde virgin with the huge muff of cunt hair over to a large club chair. The admiring audience gathered around not wanting to miss a moment of the performance that was to follow. First, he devoted at least five minutes to each of her luscious tits until the little pink rosebud nipples became crimson and swollen as hard as his cock. He chewed on each nipple hard enough to leave teeth marks and then slowly moved downward until he could inhale the heady perfume of her femininity. After breathing deeply of her intimate fragrance he began to lick her tender slit. It was the lightest pink in color and covered with little droplets of moisture which gave it the appearance of a rose covered with early-morning dew. As he licked and sucked on the lovely gash he realized that blonde cunts smell and taste different from brunette pussies. Their bouquet and flavor are as different as white wine and red wine. Judged on that basis this little Cathy rated as vintage champagne. George realized that the best job he could think of would be that of wine taster in a vineyard of cunts. She squirmed happily beneath him as he licked and sucked and mouthed her trembling cunt. He could hear the other girls breathing heavily behind him. He opened her lips wide with his fingers and began to give his full oral concentration to the exposed tip of her little clitoris. When his tongue grazed it, she began to sob slightly and lifted her cunt up to his mouth. He sucked the little clit right into his mouth and she drew in her breath in a loud gasp and shuddered violently as the orgasm hit her. She was nice and juicy now and this would make it easier and less painful when he brought her virgin years to an end within the next few minutes. The wonderful flavor of her champagne cunt filled his mouth and coated his moist lips as he reluctantly emerged from her happy valley.
From beneath the chair, where he had secreted it earlier, George produced one of those pocket flashlights that looks like an oversized pen. He had bought this earlier today for the special occasions which lay ahead of him these next few nights.
"Let's see if she is really a virgin," George suggested to the girls. "She said that she herself wasn't sure."
Instructing Cathy to use her fingers and stretch her cunt as wide open as she could he held the flashlight to the mouth of her vaginal tunnel and peered deep inside. The little pink membrane with the small hole in the center that was her ring-like hymen still blocked the entry way to the deep recesses of her sex.
The girls all wanted to take a look. It wasn't that they had doubted that Cathy was still a virgin. It was simply that while all of them, except Betty, had a hymen they had never been able to see it and were curious. First Betty, then Margo and Sally took a good long first and last look at Cathy's physical badge of virginity. They expressed curiosity as to what the female interior looked like without the hymen intact. Betty obligingly lifted her leg to the arm of the chair and pulled her pussy wide apart while George moved the light to her chasm and the other girls took a close look at the unrestricted penile tunnel. He wondered for a moment if this little comparative inspection might trigger any latent homosexual tendencies in the young girls. As if to assure him of her normal heterosexuality, Margo reached down and cupped a feel of his balls while looking up Betty's snatch.
George got up and produced a small white Turkish towel, one of three that he had bought on this day for a very special purpose. The girls got the idea immediately. He started to spread the towel out on the carpet but Sally suggested that they would get a much better view of the whole action if he screwed Cathy just as she was on the edge of the chair. He slipped the white towel beneath her spread thighs. Before getting down on his knees between her legs, he leaned over the chair and suggested. "Why don't you give my cock a little kiss for good luck?"
Cathy was aflame with passionate anticipation and needed no urging to do anything George might suggest at this point. She swooped his cock into her mouth like a feather being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. The other girls were amazed by her obvious proficiency as a cocksucker. She appeared to take his huge dong into her mouth effortlessly.
"I wish I would find a pair of shoes like that," Margo giggled as she watched the little blonde swoop down balls deep on the older man.
"Whadda'ya mean?" Sally asked her.
"Small on the outside but huge on the inside," Margo explained.
George's glans was well coated with his own juices mixed with her saliva when he pulled back from her face. He kneeled between her spread thighs and while the fingers of one hand opened the inner lips of her virgin cunt, he took his hotly throbbing prick in the other and Cathy felt the burning juicy head of that huge organ press into those inner vaginal lips as it demanded admission into her still-untrespassed sex tunnel. Next he pressed his lips to her mouth and his tongue forced her lips apart and forced its way inside, past her teeth, just as his rampant charger was forcing its way into those nether lips and urging its way through the tiny stricture in her untorn hymen.
She was conscious of his kiss for just a moment and then every thought and sensitivity in her body seemed to rush down to the current disaster zone of her tortured cunt. The head of his huge cock was well within her now and she could feel it pounding against her stretched but still intact hymen like some mammoth, red hot, battering ram beating at the gates of her virginity in an incessant demand for admission. She was moaning now and mumbling incoherently and then her lips, still close to his, emitted a sharp little scream as, with one final brutal lunge, he splintered the bastions of her maidenhead and crammed his way into the tight passageway beyond.
The jealous audience moved in even closer to watch that huge rod of flesh batter past her fallen maidenhead and stretch at the tender membranes beyond. A series of little sobbing screams, like those of a wounded animal escaped her lips as he continued to lunge inch by inch further into her most secret places. She felt little streams of warm blood running down between her widespread thighs and the fresh new towel began to get quite sticky beneath her open buttocks. Suddenly, even the last defenses of her constricted inner muscles capitulated under the overwhelming force of his attack and he plunged full depth into the very thimble of the throbbing, stretched and torn cavernous tunnel of her now mature womanhood.
Exhausted from the efforts of gaining the first total entry into the cave of her sex, he rested briefly while her vaginal juices started to flow and mix with her maiden blood to provide the much-needed lubrication for the pistoning strokes that his huge horsecock now began to take in and out of her fiery raw little cunt. Cathy's screams and evidences of the pain of the deflowering now became a series of soft moans of increasing pleasure as the hurt of the torturous forced entry began to give way to the sensuous delights of receiving a good, solid fucking.
George could feel her virgin blood keep oozing out of the ripped gash and trickle down warm and sticky onto his hairy balls. He felt a thrill of accomplishment at the sensation.
"Are you all right now?" he asked the moaning girl. "Do you want me to stop and just lay still in you for a while?"
"I feel just fine now. It only hurt for a minute or so. Now it's beginning to feel better and better with every stroke. Don't you dare stop now. Not even for a moment. I've waited fifteen years to know the exquisite delight of feeling my pussy impaled on some gigantic lance of flesh and muscle. All I want you to do now is to fuck me and to keep on fucking me like I was a real woman, not just a little girl. Please, George, sock it to me the way you like it best. Screw me the way you would if I were your own age. I think I'm going to like getting fucked from now on." Her voice was like a hoarse whisper and the words came out in little breathless staccato phrases.
The other girls were breathing heavily now, too. They had all held their breath from the time he crammed the mauve head of his huge cock into the lips of her pussy until he had worked his way balls-deep into the very base of her vaginal canal. Now they were almost gasping for breath as though they had been under water too long.
George continued the long, slow strokes of his proud prick in and out of the happily distended cunt as Cathy began to respond to his movements and thrust her cunt upward and outward from the edge of the chair to meet his every final penetration. Her eyes were closed and her every concentration was in the newly opened shaft of her final womanhood. His hard hot prick was the most beautiful thing she had ever felt. Just as she would tell herself that it was so wonderful it could not possibly get any better-it did. The agonizing ecstasy of her initiation into the society of adult womanhood swept over her in wave after wave of pleasure and pride. She prayed that she might miraculously conjure up the power to stop the clocks and the calendars and make this all-too-brief interlude of heavenly bliss last for all eternity. As though her body felt called upon to convince her mind that the lovely thought was a physical impossibility, she became suddenly aware that somewhere deep in her very womb a skyrocket had been ignited by the heat and friction of his huge cock. Now it roared upwards through her very insides to burst into a million colored lights behind her closed eyes. She let out a long moan of deepest pleasure at the sheer ecstatic beauty of her first coming to a real live cock in her cunt. The shuddering spasm of her first intercourse-induced orgasm raced through her lovely young body from toenails to scalp and left her drenched in the sweet sweat of sexual satisfaction.
The sight of her mammoth climax proved more than Sally could endure and her hand dropped to her own hairy gash and she began to massage her swollen clit vigorously. Margo resisted the temptation to do likewise even though her crotch had never felt hotter and stickier than at this moment.
George's tempo gradually increased as he began to charge her inflamed cunt like a young ram. It has often been said that a man is only as old as he feels. Surely, no experience can make a middle-aged man feel and act like a youth again more quickly or more completely than that of smashing the cherry of a beautiful young maiden. He forced one hand beneath her buttocks and his middle finger sought her tight little asshole and worked its way inside until it was as fully embedded in her rear as his cock was in her cunt. This forced her to press that hot little cunt up even tighter to him until their damp, matted pubic hairs became entangled. If he had been any closer to her he would have been behind her. Even though Cathy had thought that she was fully spent from that massive original orgasm which his wonderful big hot prick had triggered, she saw the colored lights burst in her head again and her ears heard the deafening roar of thunder as the lightning flashed back and forth through her feverish brain. She let out a long moan of supreme pleasure as she felt him gushing forth into the deepest reaches of her womb and flood her entire insides with the hot heavy juices of his balls.
"Oh, my God, I could actually feel your hot juice shooting out into my cunt. I never dreamed you could really feel a man cuming inside of you that way. It was sheer heaven. Please, don't take it out yet. Just hold it way inside me and let me feel you with my cunt," she begged breathlessly.
"I'll hold it in you as long as I can," George promised as he bent down to flick his tongue across her nipples which stood erect as two thimbles now. She shuddered at the contact. The little erogenous zones of her aureoles had always been highly sensitive but never more so than at this moment. It was a wildly thrilling new sensation to feel a tongue on her nipples and a cock in her cunt at the same time.
Cathy could feel the little circular purse string muscles that -lined the inner walls of her vaginal canal hugging and squeezing George's rapidly softening prick in little gestures of love and appreciation for the delightful internal massage it had given them.
The girls of the audience were still speechless. Betty, who had been the female star of the performance held the night before, had never watched another girl getting fucked before. She had been close to cuming herself just from the excitement of being a voyeur at the total destruction of her close girl friend's virginity. When she had first agreed to introduce the girls to George and ask him to service their sexual needs, she had feared that she might feel deep pangs of jealousy at seeing her man make love to another girl. Instead, she had found the experience to be erotically stimulating. She had related to him, as well as to Cathy, and had enjoyed the sight of sex almost as much as she enjoyed the feel and taste of it. She looked at Sally and Margo. Their bodies had taken on the pink glow of a flush of passion at the exhibition they had just witnessed. Perhaps, in some ways, they had found it even more thrilling to behold since it was a live preview of what lay in store for them the next two nights. Even now that the main action was over they couldn't take their eyes off of the two pubic bones that seemed to have grown together. They were delightfully apprehensive of what it would be like to feel that huge hot meat of his crammed into their own tight virgin pussies. In their fantasizing, each of them had imagined herself to be the fortunate victim of tonight's deflowering ceremony. Sally had strengthened the illusion by fingering her inflamed clitoris to climax twice while she watched. Margo had resisted the temptation, after a brief trial at it, preferring to wait for the real thing. She hoped that she wouldn't have to wait until the last.
In spite of Cathy's desperate efforts to keep his beloved cock hard and locked in her snatch, George shrunk rapidly until it slipped from the warm moist confines of her juicy crotch. She sighed at the loss of the welcome intruder which had taken her on such a wondrous maiden voyage on the seas of sex. George slipped his finger from her rear as his limp warrior retreated from her pussy.
The girls rushed over now and hugged and kissed Cathy whose body glistened like polished ivory in a bath of perspiration. The massive triangle of soft blonde cunt hair was pasted flat to her belly. Now the girls wanted to see her torn hymen. She remained perfectly still, thighs widespread and gash gaping, still distended from the stretching his huge cock had given it. Heavy pink juices oozed from the open trench like melted strawberry ice cream as her maiden blood mixed with the copious cum he had injected into her depths. Little rivulets of blood had dried on her lower loins and matted and crusted in the blonde hairs at the base of her crimson slit. George was the last to take the flashlight and examine the havoc he had wrought upon her tender sex center. Finally, when she had let them each examine her bloody quim thoroughly and had regained strength enough to move, she held the bloodstained and cream-coated towel to her crotch like a diaper and made her way to the bathroom.
"Save the towel and don't wash it. Bring it back with you," George called after her.
Now the girls relived the experience in conversation while Cathy who had been so happy to be properly violated at last made the necessary repairs in the privacy of the bathroom. When she rejoined them some ten minutes later, everyone agreed that she had never been more radiantly beautiful. A woman reaches the very epitome of her radiant loveliness when she has just been sexually satisfied by a capable and knowledgeable lover.
The intimate little group felt even closer to one another after participating together in the ceremony of Cathy's sacrifice upon the altar of sex-love. They chatted happily and congratulated the two principals on their superb performances. Sally and Margo seemed even more elated than Cathy. She had already had her moment in the spotlight. They still lived in breathless anticipation of their own premiere performances.
Later in the evening, Cathy walked over to where George was sitting. She crouched cross-legged like a tailor at his feet and ran her cool fingers up and down the limp prick and over the drained balls. Soon, the dead soldier began to twitch and expand. Encouraged by the feeble signs of life, the young girl lowered her blonde head to his crotch and swept his balls into her mouth. Her tongue and lips did wondrous things to the orally imprisoned sex sacs and soon he was erecting nicely. After a few minutes she eased his balls from her lips and swooped down on his now-semierect cock like a pelican diving on some particularly tasty fish. Her cheeks pumped in and out like a bellows while her soft lips traversed up and down the rapidly lengthening shaft. Her tongue covered him with little butterfly flicks in a barber-pole pattern. She would pull all the way off of it and blow her breath playfully at the glistening knob and then flick it about with her tongue and then trail her tongue up and down the tightening urethral tube along its base several times before swooping it back into her mouth and sucking and gulping his meat down. It was amazing how she encased that mammoth member in what appeared to be a tiny cupid's bow mouth. For his part, George responded in just the manner that she had in mind. Soon his sex stood proudly like a giant redwood towering above the dense underbrush of pubic hairs. Cathy pulled off of the throbbing hot fleshrod now and moved back to admire her handiwork.
"Behold the Phoenix has arisen again from the ashes of death!" she proclaimed proudly.
She got her feet now and faced him with her hands on her hips. The huge bush of blonde hair was just inches from his face.
"You've only done half of your job, Mister Ross," she announced in mock anger. "You promised to deflower me and yet there is one place I am still a virgin. If there is anything I can't stand it's a man who leaves a job half undone!"
As if to emphasize her point, she turned her back to him and bent way over, spreading the cheeks of her ass with both hands. That huge expanse of blonde cunt hair didn't end at the base of her crotch but continued up the rear crevice of her buttocks. The little beauty had as much hair around her asshole as most girls have around their cunts! The tight tan orifice stared and winked at George like a brown-eyed Cyclops. The clear fluid began to ooze from the slit of his glans at the charming sight.
Standing erect again she turned around and offered him her hands to help him up. Then she knelt on the edge of the chair upon which he had taken her cherry and braced her shoulders against the back as she bade him to enter her virgin rectum.
"Fuck me up the ass, George. It's the only variety of sex I haven't tasted of as yet."
No gentleman would think of denying a lady her heartfelt desires and George Ross was, above all, a gentleman. He moved in between her knees and held the glistening purplish spongy head of his rock hard cock against the very center of the little tan doughnut. He lunged at the tiny anal stricture several times as they grunted in unison but to no avail. Their audience had moved in to get a close-up look at the new action. As hard as he was and as cooperative as she was they couldn't seem to effect a penetration. It was as though he were trying to force a half dollar into the dime slot of a pay telephone.
Betty slipped unnoticed from the room and returned with the bottle of baby oil from little Jimmy's room. While George spread Cathy's cheeks, Betty applied a large quantity of the clear mineral oil to the edges of Cathy's rectum and then worked some of it up inside with her fingers. Then she poured more oil in her hand and coated the length of George's turgid trembling prick with the same lubricant. While George held the buttocks widespread and Cathy reached back between her legs to grasp his balls and pull him toward her, Betty grasped the hot shaft of his cock and directed the well-oiled glans at the bull's-eye of its target for the evening.
Cathy let out a little shriek of mixed pleasure and pain as the huge helmet of his rampant warrior buried itself in her tight rear sex tunnel. George waited for a few moments until the involuntary muscles of her anal canal relaxed and dilated and then he lunged forward again burying another inch in the hot tight hole. Again he waited while the rings of rear muscles felt and examined the strange intruder into their private domain. Again he plunged forward and slipped in another inch or more. The audience seemed to have stopped breathing and all that could be heard was the labored breathing of the two performers in the little sex circus.
Cathy began to wiggle her buttocks and thrust them back to him. She had relaxed now and was anxious to have it all the way up her ass. George was quick to accommodate her with a vicious thrust that forced a loud gasp from her lips. Nobody snickered or made the least comment. George held her fully impaled from the back on his hot ramrod. She still had a grip on his dangling balls and pulled these forward to massage. her swollen clit. Slowly, at first, he began taking short tentative strokes in and out of her rosy rectum. Its edges had split slightly in the brave effort to accommodate his mammoth member and now little trickles of blood ran down into her open cunt as though a posterior hymen had been torn away.
"Don't just tease me, George. Fuck my asshole. Cornhole me good and proper and see if you can make the colored lights flash from this approach. God, my cunt can feel your gorgeous prick through that thin wall that separates fore from aft. Bugger me good, lover man!" she begged in hoarse tones.
George took her at her word, He pulled all the way out to where just the glans remained in her stretched rectum and then he lunged back to hide all of his meat inside her rear. He looked down and watched the hard shaft saw in and out as fascinated by the sight as the three girls who stared in disbelief. Margo was so moved that she let wind as he plugged her friend's asshole with one particularly strong thrust.
Cathy was humping back at him with all her might now. She wasn't conscious of the onlookers or of anything save that huge hot sausage that stuffed her intestines. She began moaning and making those little wordless animal sounds now as she ass fucked him with every ounce of her newfound sexual energy. They were lunging together and tearing apart viciously now, their breath coming in loud snarls like two wild beasts in the jungle, unmindful of anything save the thrilling eroticism of their unnatural sex union.
It was obvious to the other girls that this crazy symphony of sodomy was rapidly building to a crashing crescendo. Sally, in a feeble attempt to know what her friend was experiencing, had reached behind her and was sawing her middle finger in and out of her own asshole.
"Oh, my God, George! Yes, yes, yes. Fuck my ass harder and faster. You're doing it. I'm hanging right on the precipice. You've got to push me over That's it. Just like that. Ahhhhhhh! I'm cuming! I didn't believe Betty, but it's true. My cunt is actually cuming to your prick up my ass. Here it is!" she moaned as she was swept away on a tidal wave of orgasmic relief.
George felt the bear hug of her rear as the anal muscles locked him in a death grip. So strong was their clutch that he was powerless to move in or out of her soft sweet ass. He wondered if the girls might have to turn the hose on them like one does with dogs locked in heat. Her rectum pumped at his embedded cock while her fingers squeezed his dangling balls urging them to give up their treasure trove of liquid pearls in an attempt to quell the inferno that raged in her entrails. The dual urging was finally rewarded and George almost collapsed atop her back as he let blast with an explosive charge of molten manhood as the hot jism flushed through her lower intestines to culminate the efforts of this torrid sex enema. The lovely young blonde squirmed and squealed in delight as her older lover thoroughly back flushed her rear radiator. When the flooding had subsided, the exhausted George felt the need to sit down. He pulled his semierect spent cock from her asshole. It made a loud plopping noise like a cork being yanked from a champagne bottle. The weird little sound broke the tensions that had accompanied the performance and everyone laughed good-naturedly and the girls rushed to Cathy full of congratulations and highly personal questions.
George could hardly believe it when he looked at the clock. Five hours had passed as easily as five minutes. It was after eleven o'clock. The last thing he wanted was to arouse the suspicions of the girls' parents to where they couldn't get out again the next two nights and, hopefully, every night for as long as his family was away.
The girls dressed hurriedly and all left together as soon as Betty had made a final check on little Jimmy. Five minutes later, George was again alone in the house enriched by the vivid recollections of a most-memorable experience. He hurried to the bathroom and fetched the little white towel with the six-inch round stain of her virgin blood. Taking it to his room he stretched it out carefully on the dresser to dry. From his coat pocket he removed the last of his special purchases today-a felt-tipped marking pen. On the clean white border of the towel he carefully lettered the name "Cathy" and the legend, "Age 15" and the date. He wished that he would have had a towel for Betty that happy first night with her but he had saved the bloodstained handkerchief. He extracted that from the back of the bottom dresser drawer and marked it with her name, age and the date of her deflowering. He hoped that this would be the start of a highly personal collection of sex souvenirs. One final touch occurred to him. The following night he would cut off a hank of their cunt hairs and Scotch tape them to the towels. Next he carefully folded the other two clean new towels that were intended for Sally and Margo and placed them in the drawer.
"Two down. Two to go," he mumbled happily.
Catching his reflection in the mirror, he looked himself in the eyes as he proudly proclaimed, "George Ross, you're a dirty old man!"
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning, George awakened in high spirits. He felt like a young bridegroom on his wedding day. That night another redskin would bite the dust-or, in this case, the towel. He wondered vaguely which of the remaining virgins would draw the high card tonight. It really didn't matter. They were both damned pretty girls. Sally had bigger tits but she also had quite a round little tummy that might get in his way. Oh well, he would enter that tunnel when he came to it. He hummed and whistled happily as he showered and shaved. He felt like a sheik in a Turkish harem having a new virgin offered up to him each night. He was secretly proud of his performance the night before. It was surprising that a man of his age still possessed such sexual stamina. Absently, he wondered how long he could keep up an active membership in this virgin-of-the-day club.
Betty came over a little after eight and got Jimmy up and gave him his bath and breakfast and took him out to play. George wondered if she might feel sexually neglected and expect him to give her a little action. Maybe she was beginning to regret her generosity to her close friends. In any event, there wasn't much he could do about it. He had to save his strength for the evening. Perhaps, just to be on the safe side, he had better leave a note for her and get out of the house for the day. In that way, he wouldn't be tempted to spread himself too thin in the sex department.
He went down to the Barrel Inn and shot a few games of pool with some of his buddies. He drank nothing but plain tomato juice. The bartender referred to them as "Virgin Marys." He was tempted to celebrate with a few bourbons or, at least, beers but knew that a long drinking session would only lessen his sexual capabilities. When his friends urged him to have a real drink he made some vague references to an upset stomach. The hours dragged by at a snail's pace. It was almost as though someone had magnetized his watch. When lunch time finally arrived he went to a cheap oyster bar he had heard of and treated himself to a dozen raw oysters. At two o'clock he bought a ticket and entered an X-rated double-feature movie. It was sexually explicit, all right. There were so many "cum shots" that the manager probably had to mop up the first two rows of seats after every performance. The whores of both sexes who had done their thing for the camera projected from the screen like rank amateurs by his newly established standards. When one of the actresses would go down on a guy's cock she would let the cum run out of her mouth to prove that the scene was for real and not faked. In the screwing episodes the guy would always pull out of the girl's twat at the crucial moment so that the audience got the questionable benefit of watching the guys cock twitch and shoot its load of jism all over the girl's stomach or buttocks. In one oral sequence the woman pulled off of the guy's cock just in time so that he shot his load full into her face. Obviously, the producer thought that cock cream either ingested or injected into one of the broads in the cast was simply a cum wasted. Once in a while George would look around and observe the reaction of the audience. Some of the woman-hungry guys his age were jacking-off as they watched the action on screen. A month or so before he might have been moved to do the same thing. Thanks to Betty and her friends he could save his hard-on and look forward to active participation in all the sex acts depicted on the flickering screen. After an hour or so he got bored with the constant repetition of sex but forced himself to sit through the entire performance as the quickest way to kill time while waiting for his private harem to assemble and the one-man orgy to begin.
Betty had already gotten Jimmy bedded down for the night when he got home. She was nervous and edgy and kept lighting cigarettes, taking three deep puffs on them and then grinding them out. He knew that she wanted a little sex. When she bent over to pick up a match she had dropped he ran his hand up the back of her skirt. She was wearing no panties. His continued enjoyment of her friends' bodies relied on his keeping her happy. Well, there was one way he could safely do that. He led her over and sat her down on the edge of Fred's desk and dropped to his knees in front of her as he shoved up her skirt and addressed himself to her hairy little box. She understood his purpose and seemed pleased to settle for having him eat out her cunt in order to relieve her sexual frustrations without depleting his own seminal reserves. She ran her fingers through his hair as he buried his face in her bush and licked and slurped at the juicy gash while she squirmed and cooed happily. Suddenly, she started to giggle. Looking up he saw that she still had the cigarette in her mouth. She reached behind her for an ashtray as she grinned down at him, "I hope it won't bother you if I smoke while you're eating."
Again he was impressed with the difference in taste and smell between her and the hairy blonde, Cathy. He loved the heady flavor of her cunt. Cathy the night before had been a light May wine. Betty was an aged Port. Her clit began to grow and soon the little head peeked out of its protective hood. He treated it to a thorough tongue massage before sucking it into his lips and kissing and nibbling on it as he shoved two fingers into her pussy and lifted her closer to his face. He felt the clutching at his embedded fingers as the muscular spasm of her orgasm came and went. He stayed on it until he was sure that she had enjoyed every final moment of the sweet experience. The taste of her cunt was strong on his lips as he removed his head from beneath her skirts and got to his feet. She threw her arms around him and kissed him deeply. He had almost forgotten how she enjoyed tasting her pussy on his lips.
Betty seemed quite calm and content after his oral attentions to her furry slit. She smoothed her skirts and emptied the ashtrays while waiting for her friends to arrive. She wasn't half as anxious to see them as George was. They were late tonight and for a while he was afraid that perhaps they weren't coming at all. It was nearly seven o'clock when the doorbell rang and the three sexy schoolgirls came in together, explaining that Sally had encountered a little difficulty getting out since an aunt had arrived unexpectedly from out of town. She had finally broken away.
Once more George marveled at the instant transformation from clothed little girls to unclothed women. Since they were getting off to a late start, none of them had any patience with preliminaries. Betty and Cathy already knew that their roles tonight would be those of inactive voyeurs. Betty produced the cards for George to shuffle and placed them face down on the table. Margo made a shallow cut from the top of the deck and left her pile face down in front of her. Sally took a thicker stack from the remainder of the deck. The two girls turned them up at the same time. Margo had drawn the eight of spades, and Sally, the five of clubs. It was to be Margo's night of nights.
George had assembled all of the equipment for the occasion. First he had the naked nymph lay back of the desk where he had eaten Betty's snatch earlier. He directed her to spread her legs wide and grasp them behind the knees and hold them high and wide apart while they examined her hymen in the first step of the before-and-after view of it. To encourage her he gave her a little kiss on the clit and she squealed in delight and opened even wider to give them all a full view of her inner sex. George held the little pocket flashlight to the mouth of her pink cavern. He pointed out to the others that Margo's hymen was different from Cathy's in that it was what is known as a septet hymen. There was the same hole, about the size of his pinkie in the center of the delicate pink natural diaphragm except that there was a thin cord of membrane across the center dividing it into two separate semi-circular orifices. This cord would have to be broken before the already-swollen knob of his cock could cram its way into the small hole stretching it until it ripped to allow him full entry. The girls seemed fascinated by the slight anatomical difference.
He wanted to spread the souvenir towel on the rug but the girls suggested that since they had such a fine view with her laying back on the desk this way that it serve as the sacrificial altar for the night. Betty brought in two padded back chairs from the dining table and put these several feet apart and hung the backs of Margo's knees over the backs of them while George took his position between them. Margo was spread open and raised up as though she were in the stirrups of an obstetrician's examining table. George reached up and kneaded her firm young breasts with his hands and pinched at the nipples until they got firm and stood erect like twin pencil erasers in the center of the half-dollar-size beige aureoles that became covered with little bumps of gooseflesh. While he massaged her boobs he allowed the spongy head of his big cock to graze lightly against the little patch of soft brown pubic hairs and the slightly puffy lips of her vagina. He began to run his hands over her body lower and lower until he was caressing the pubic mound and she became so inflamed that she reached-out and grabbed his stiff staff and stroked it admiringly and hefted his large balls in her hands. Falling to his knees as he had earlier before Betty, he began to lick and tongue-tickle her rosy beige slit with the brown fur collar. He dug his tongue deep into her until he could lick the very little hymen that he would soon destroy. She began to get very juicy indeed and by the time he sucked her clitoris until she reached a climax from his oral attentions her cunt was nice and creamy which would make the initial entry into her tight sex thimble easier. When he got up they all noticed that the glans of his throbbing burning staff was heavily coated with its own clear pre-coital lubricating fluids as though it realized what lay ahead of it and was anxious to grease the ways to make for a smooth christening and launch into womanhood. The same breathless hush fell over the little group as though some circus performer was about to go into his death-defying act.
Little Margo bit her lip and began to shiver as though she were having a chill. As anxious as she was to go through the erotic initiation into adult sex, she was still a frightened young girl. George rubbed the slippery head of his roaring hard-on up and down the girl's sex slit trying to arouse and calm her at the same time. Her trembling only increased. He began to feel afraid. Perhaps his huge cock would prove to be more than the child could handle. Suppose he tore her open or did some internal damage to her. She might run to her parents and he would be unmasked as a dirty male pedophile and charged with carnal abuse or perhaps even statutory rape. He was a fool to take such a chance. He could safely enjoy all the sex he could handle just with Betty and perhaps Cathy. He moved back breaking all contact with her sex.
"I don't think our little friend Margo wants to go through with it. Perhaps she isn't ready to become a woman yet," he told the others.
There was a groan of disappointment from the other girls until Margo clutched at his huge cock and screamed hysterically, "I am, too, ready and I do want to go through with it. I know that it will hurt like crazy for a little while before it begins to feel good but the other kids say it is worth it. It's just that I've always been afraid of pain. Please, you mustn't stop now. If you do I may never get up my nerve to try it again. Please, George. You've got to put that big thing in my little hole, even if it kills me. I've got to have it. Just, please, go ahead and do it. The longer you wait the more frightened I become. Come on and fuck me like you promised to. If Betty and Cathy lived through it, I'm sure I will, too. Please, don't stop now. I'll never tell anybody no matter how badly you hurt me. Can't you understand, I've got to have it and yet I can't help being afraid? Please. Cram your big cock in my little cunt until you smash my cherry and ram it all the way in and make a woman of me. Now!"
George looked around at the other girls and they all nodded silently and murmured little words of comfort and encouragement to the frightened youngster. Now the die was cast. No matter what the outcome, George knew that he couldn't stop now. His cock was throbbing so for that virgin pussy that he threw caution and pangs of conscience to the wind and moved in for the kill.
"Let me know if it hurts you too bad and I'll try to stop if I can," he told the child as he guided the swollen sticky head between the inner vaginal lips and gently eased it inside the mouth of her tiny immature sex hole. Cathy and Betty held her legs firmly apart over the backs of the chairs and George pressed firmly forward until he encountered the hymen. The thin cord of her separated hymen worked into the slit of his glans as if to indicate that he was dead on target. Her cunt began to tremble violently as fear took over the involuntary control of her internal muscles.
"Hang on tight, Margo. I'll be as gentle as I can but sometimes it takes a lot of force to do the job," he told her soothingly as he increased the forward pressure into the tight little hole in the center of her inner diaphragm.
Margo bit down on her wrist as if to stifle the scream that she knew would come when he tore into her. George gripped her hip bones securely and pulled her toward him over the edge of the desk as he lunged forward into her. Her muffled scream startled them all but he felt the cord stretch and break and the glans of his cock crammed into the tiny stricture and was trapped as it snapped tight around his corona and held him in a bear-trap grip. He couldn't pull out now if he wanted to. The only way out was by going further and further in, stretching the tight little stricture until it ripped and made room for more comfortable entry. At the moment he felt like the little mouse who was too intent on getting his head out of the trap to care whether he got any cheese or not. He pulled back as much as he could, thinking to stretch it in both directions. Now he rammed forward again feeling the tight ring slip a little further back on his shaft. What if he got all the way in and the tough little diaphragm still didn't tear? He would be trapped in there and they would have to be cut apart. No, that was silly. If such a thing did happen he would have the girls play with his balls and suck them until he came inside of Margo. Then his cock would shrink and he could pull it out of the tender trap in which he was now caught. The girl was sobbing steadily now as he crammed it into her a fraction of an inch at a time. The going was rough. He felt like he was trying to shove a size-twelve foot into a size-four boot. He could no longer even attempt to be gentle. He lunged into her, viciously feeling the tight annular constriction forced back further and further towards the base of his prick. He was sweating like a pig from the supreme effort. Sally moped his brow with a handkerchief. It was like those scenes in the surgery movies. With one final violent lunge forward he felt the hymen tear and the force of his thrust plus the removal of the obstruction buried him in the young girl's cunt clear to the hilt. It also made the maiden blood squirt out all over his balls. He remained still now, fully buried in her virgin tunnel of love, conscious of the blood oozing out of the mouth of her torn vagina. Her sobbing had stopped now and he looked down at the child, fearful that she had fainted. She was staring bug-eyed up at him and a faint smile crossed her lips and she wrinkled up her nose as she looked up into his sweating face.
Almost as if that pixie expression had triggered it, suddenly a miraculous thing happened. All of the tightly constricted muscles and sidewalk of her little cunt relaxed and dilated to twice or more their original size as though they had been inflated with a bicycle pump until that virgin sex tunnel accommodated his huge dong as comfortably as though she had been taking it inside of her for years.
"It's all the way inside me now, isn't it. I mean, I've taken it all in. There isn't any more to go. I could take it all after all. And you know something? It doesn't hurt a bit now. It feels quite comfortable. I'm sorry I was such a baby about it. It really did hurt like hell at first but it doesn't anymore. The girls were right. It only hurts for a little while. Now make it feel good. Fuck me and make my cunt cum to your beautiful big prick. I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm a woman now and I want to be fucked by a real man like you. Come on, George, fuck me good and proper," she was smiling broadly now, not only at George but also at the other girls who smiled back reassuringly.
George stroked in and out of her easily now, taking long slow trips almost all the way out and then all the way back in. He moved forward and upward some so as to rub firmly against her clit with every inch of every stroke.
"Oh, that's wonderful. That's heavenly. I never dreamed that it would feel this good. I've never felt such a yummy sensation in all my life. Don't stop now. Not yet. Fuck me and make me cum time and time again and then soothe my burning torn little snatch with the sweet ointment of your balls and rub it in with the lovely applicator of your prick. Oh, I love it. Get it even deeper inside of me if you can."
George quickened and strengthened his pace now and rammed in and out of her like a pile driver as she moaned in ecstasy until at last she let out a little gasp.
"Oh, God, it's happening. It's finally happening. I'm going to cum to a real prick in my pussy. Oh, George, you dear precious man. I'm so glad I saved it for you. Fuck me deeper, George. Fuck me all the way down inside my creamy cooze and let me flood your dear cock with my virgin deep cunt cum. Now, baby ... oh yes ... nowwwwww! Can you feel it? Can you feel my cunt cuming all over your big wonderful cock?"
Her inner rings of vaginal muscles clutched and squeezed at him as she went through what must be the greatest climax of her young lifetime. When the lengthy spasm had passed she seemed to dilate even more and George was amazed at how such a tight little girl virgin vagina could transform itself so quickly into the huge womanly cunt he felt now. It was as though there was still room enough to get his balls in, too.
He began to fuck her slowly and tenderly now sometimes pulling all the way out and tickling her vaginal lips as he worked just the head of it in and out of them and then massaged her swollen clit with the hot spongy glans before sinking it full length back into the newly cavernous sex tube of the newly arrived adult woman in front of him. He was pacing his strokes now to provide himself with the maximum pleasure and soon he forced through the soft moist vaginal lips on what he knew would be a last plunge into her depths. As the head of his burning staff rubbed against her delicate uterus he gushed forth his white offering into the very depths of her sex. God, but she had a soft, tender cunt.
When Margo felt the welcome warm flood drenching her innermost sex parts, it triggered a second orgasm and she squeezed and milked his still-ejaculating cock until she had extracted every last drop of its precious fluids.
"God, Cathy was right. There is nothing quite so wonderful as to feel a man's prick swell up and cum inside of your cunt. It made me cum again the moment I felt it. I'm glad I waited for a man instead of getting off to a bad start with some stupid boy. Oh, George, thank you. You have given me a wonderful introduction into the world of grown-up women. I'll never forget you." Her smile was flushed now and aimed at George but she shared it with the other girls who had served as a sort of bridesmaids of the nuptial couch.
When George backed off and let his cock slip from her creamy cunt, he noticed that the puddle of red on the towel was fully twice the size that Cathy had deposited on hers.
They helped her up from the desk then and unhooked her legs from over the chair backs. She clutched the towel close to her flowing stretched snatch and started for the bathroom.
"Don't wash the towel or throw it away," George called after her.
There were a few cans of beer left in the refrigerator and George distributed them now. Again the girls were in high spirits as their little club had initiated yet another member.
When Margo returned from the bathroom George gave her a beer and excused himself. He found the towel piled in a heap next to the trash basket and carried it to his room and spread it out carefully on top of the dresser. The red spot was huge and streaked liberally with white, like a slice of some crazy cherry marble cake. It would make a prized addition to his collection. From the top drawer he removed three envelopes upon which he had already written separate names of the three girls. He also picked up a pair of scissors.
Back in the den he announced, "Call me a silly sentimentalist if you like but I would like a little highly personal souvenir of each of you," he brandished the scissors and the envelopes as he spoke.
The three girls giggled excitedly as he clipped a large clump of cunt hair from each of their bushes and allowed it to fall into the appropriate envelope. Sally's turn would come the following night.
It had become their custom that each girl was entitled to two drainings of his balls as well as having their cunt lapped. Later that evening, George wondered if Margo, like Cathy, would want to be fucked up her virgin rump. When the time came Margo made her personal preferences known in no uncertain terms.
"Now that I know what your beautiful prick feels like I'm anxious to find out what it tastes like. Unlike my friends here, I have never gone down on a guy so you may have to be patient with me and all of you help to teach me how to do it. I have a virgin mouth where sex is concerned and I don't want to be a virgin there anymore."
Her announcement brought George to an almost-immediate erection. There is nothing quite so flattering to a man as having a beautiful, sexy young woman state that she has never sucked a cock before but that she wants to do it to him.
What young Margo lacked by way of experience at the gentle art of giving head she more than made up for in sincere effort. First, she licked him all over as she had seen her friends do. Then, she managed to stretch her jaws enough that she could take the swollen head and a bite more into her mouth. George had hoped that her small mouth might suddenly distend as much as her tight snatch had but it never happened, as hard as she tried. She pressed down on it in diligent effort but her mouth was shallow and when the spongy glans ran into the back of her mouth she seemed unable to master the art of directing it down her throat even though the other girls made helpful suggestions as she kept trying. At length she had to struggle to get even half of it in her mouth and settled for gently stroking the base of his staff and massaging his balls with her hands while she sucked on the portion she could orally handle.
As George watched the young girl trying so hard to learn to become a proficient cocksucker, he was struck with the realization that this was one area in which extremes were most attractive. A sincere amateurish effort was almost as erotically thrilling as a highly professional performance. The most disappointing and frustrating experiences came from those who committed the act as a sort off duty rather than pleasure, such as his dear late wife and from those who took a sort of half-hearted approach to the whole thing. As he watched the pretty little brunette whom he had recently deflowered, giving his throbbing prick the benefit of her very best efforts and striving to do ever more, he came to the conclusion that in order to be a really good cocksucker a girl has to really want to suck your cock. Expert technique and proficient performance are strictly secondary to the sincerity of her desire to please. There was surely no dearth of desire in this young Margo. Perhaps, as with any other art form, practice would make perfect. He determined that one night, when he could afford it, he would take the eager-to-learn young girl to see the movie, "Deep Throat." Perhaps she could learn much by watching a real expert gobble the huge monster.
She tried so desperately to force more and more of his meat into her mouth that she began to gag and choke and the little swallowing gestures were stimulating, indeed. George was getting very close to pop his wad. Then, suddenly, she developed a severe case of the hiccups. Even then she didn't stop but the little muscular spasms of her oral cavity as she kept hiccupping were a wild new thrill. Never before had he had his cock sucked by a girl with the hiccups.
Moments later he felt the eruption start deep in his balls. He grabbed her head and held it firmly down on his near-bursting prick for fear she might choke and try to pull off and ruin everything as he started to cum in her mouth. Then the dam burst and he was gushing out his heavy hot seminal discharge into her virgin lips. To his surprise she made no effort to pull away even though she nearly drowned by the heavy outpouring from his swollen glans. She sputtered and gagged and some of his frothy fluid came out of her nostrils and trickled from the corners of her mouth but she made a valiant effort to swallow all he had to offer. She stayed right on it until he was thoroughly ball-drained and had shrunk back to almost normal size. Now she managed to get it all in her mouth and kept her tongue working it over until he could stand it no longer and had to force her face off of his spent cock.
Her eyes were watering and the juices still flowed from her nose and mouth but she kept gulping and swallowing even when she came off of it and she looked up and treated him with another of those proud little smiles of hers and wrinkled up her nose at him.
"Why, it's delicious!" she exclaimed suddenly in great surprise, "It reminds me of the creamed kelp I had once in one of those health-food restaurants."
He patted her tits reassuringly and then, before they got dressed and called it a night, they all wanted to get the "after" look at her newly opened sex passageway. Margo assumed her widespread position on the edge of the desk and they all peered in as the flashlight revealed the remnants of the torn hymen and the creamy interior of her now-adult cunt.
Time had again run out on them and Betty went to check on Jimmy and then they all dressed and left quickly.
George felt somehow older this evening than he had the night before as he made his way back to his room and inked in Margo's name, age and the date on the border of the towel with the huge red stain at its center.
"Three down, one to go," he told himself proudly as he crawled into bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
These sexy young broads might be the death of him yet but he couldn't think of a pleasanter way for a dirty old man to go.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sally was the last member of George Ross' private parade of virgins. There was no need to cut cards on that evening. It was her-turn in the barrel. As with her predecessors the ceremony of her deflowering started with an internal inspection of her secret badge of virginity. She spread her thighs wide as George brought the little flashlight into place and peered into her crimson interior. He let out a long low whistle at what he saw. Lord knows, he had his work cut out for him.
The little brunette with the huge orbs and the belly to match had a rare hymen, the toughest of all to break into. Unlike an annular or a separated hymen there was no pencil-size single hole in its center. Instead, the tough membrane that had stood guard over her virginity since birth was riddled with tiny little perforations like a tea strainer. There wasn't even a starter hole to gain initial entry. Often brides with this unusual physical guardian gate resisted the most violent attack upon their inner sex all throughout their wedding night while the rigid, rock-hard cocks of their virile young grooms bounced off the tough thick diaphragm like it was a sexy midnight trampoline. Many had to be taken to a gynecologist to have the unusually strong barrier to penile penetration surgically removed. George had read of many primitive societies in which the maidens were deflowered publicly by use of a phallic wooden rod or stone used ceremonially to split the hymen. Women in these cultures who had rare hymens often resisted even the battering-ram effect of the sticks or stones and were cast out from the tribe as being unfit for sexual purposes. Comparatively, the normal hymen was like a silk gauze and this rare form had the strength of awning canvas.
George pointed cut the odd phenomenon to the girls, one of whom held her vanity mirror in place so that Sally herself could see the problem. To batter down such a strong barrier was a formidable task for even the most powerful young stud, let alone a man in his mid-forties. The problem seemed insurmountable under the circumstances but Sally was insistent that he at least give it a try. George dreaded the thought of being doomed to failure in front of his young female admirers. At the moment he wished that he were a trained and experienced surgeon rather than an aeronautical engineer. He knew too much about human anatomy and also stress analysis not to realize that the odds against his success were stacked against him. Sally insisted upon her opportunity to join her friends and peers in the society of women. Tearfully she begged George to at least give it the old college try.
"Yeah," he muttered to himself, "do or die for dear old Stanford. Okay, you lecherous dirty old man, you lucked your way into this harem arrangement; now let's see you luck your way out of this predicament."
To get the ordeal under way George went down and sucked her cunt with all of the voracity at his command. Not only did he want to get her well lubricated (although that was the excuse he gave her) but he also hoped to make her orgasm so many times that she would holler "Uncle" before demanding actual intercourse. No such luck befell him. He sucked and licked and chewed on her gooey gash until his jaws ached and he was completely out of breath. Each successive orgasm seemed to only heighten her desire to feel his cock inside of her. Her cunt was filled to overflowing with sex juices but George realized that lubrication alone was not the answer. That would be fine if she were just tight. In the case at hand he was called upon to batter his way through a virtually impenetrable obstruction.
Even his first attempts to gain even partial entry were thwarted. George himself had quite a little pot belly. When it came into contact with hers he couldn't even reach her. They looked, for all the world, like two marbles trying to fuck. In a final desperate effort he put her towel over the back of the couch and bent her over it as he approached his tender target from the rear in a dog-fashion form. At first he didn't seem to be hard enough and then they would try again. He had no difficulty working the head of his huge cock into her vaginal lips but then he encountered the strong obstruction which resisted his most ferocious efforts to break it down. He might as well have tried to blast his way through a concrete wall using his cock as a jackhammer.
On a sudden inspiration, he began to move his hips around and batter at her from various angles, rather than a straight-on attack. Was it his imagination or was the tough little barrier beginning to stretch. He looked down and watched as his big hard cock sunk into the base of her open cunt. He wasn't imagining things. It was going in a little deeper with every stroke. He redoubled his efforts and moved about to batter at it from even more oblique angles. Each time he seemed to sink in an eighth of an inch more. The girls watched in breathless admiration as he rammed harder and deeper into her virgin cunt from this rear approach.
Sally grunted and groaned and kept urging him onward. He was very close to the end of his strength when she let out a loud gasp of pain and he felt the tough little membrane barrier tear and the ferocity of his thrust carried him full depth into her virgin sex tube on the very first stroke.
She bled profusely and George rested with her throbbing bleeding cunt fully impaled on his stiff prick while he caught his breath. Then he began to fuck her with long powerful strokes as she moaned and groaned and thrust her buttocks back to flatten against his belly as he kept sawing in and out of her new opened sex canal. She shook with one climax after another as he continued to give her a screwing that she wouldn't soon forget. There seemed to be no limit to young Sally's orgasmic capacities. Finally, George felt his own approaching and then, almost without warning, it burst upon him and he blasted jet after jet of his frothy white jism into the girl's burning cunt. When he withdrew he was dizzy from the physical and mental strain of leading her across the threshold of sexual maturity. The towel beneath her was drenched with blood. It would make another proud battle flag for his secret trophy room. Later, he trimmed the locks of her chestnut pubic hairs to go with it.
His score was complete now. Four out of four. The episode had been the most time-consuming as well as energy-consuming of any of them. He was relieved when the girls prepared to leave before Sally could ask for a second round. They went through the usual ritual of the "after" examination of her torn hymen and within minutes they were dressed and gone. George was alone to inscribe Sally's name, age and the date on her stained towel and to tape the hairs to it.
The next day the girls all had to return to school. The spring vacation was over. Except for Betty with her nightly baby-sitting, the others wouldn't be able to get out for a late evening again until the following Friday.
As much as he would miss the variety, George would welcome the rest. The way he felt as he crawled into bed, even one nymphet might be more than he could handle for a while.
CHAPTER EIGHT
No normal female likes to share her man with other women and Betty was really no exception. Although she had gotten a certain vicarious thrill out of watching George launch some of her girl friends into a life of sex, she was happy for the next five nights to have him all to herself again. She trotted over every day after school and stayed until eleven o'clock at night. Monday through Friday of this schedule allowed them to more than make up for lost time. By Friday night, they had done everything but tattoo each other.
Saturday night Betty had arranged for the three other girls to join them in a real sexual Round Robin. Since George was pretty broke, the girls had chipped in to bring food and drink. It bore promise of developing into a gala evening, indeed.
Sally and Margo arrived first bringing three large, well-chilled bottles of wine. Cathy arrived a short time later carrying a huge paper bucket of fried chicken. Betty had brought over a mysterious paper sack which she smuggled into the kitchen. It looked like they were preparing for an annual church picnic but it developed into a more interesting affair than any church picnic George had ever been to.
Everyone stripped down and sat around the living room naked as Betty served glasses of wine and Cathy got ready to do her thing with the fried chicken.
"All of the drumsticks are for George," she announced to the others. "It's all part of a little contest in which he will judge which girl can make the best sauce for fried chicken."
As if to answer the question before they had a chance to ask it, Cathy selected a plump drumstick and blew on it until it was just proper eating temperature. Then she spread her thighs and worked the chicken leg in and out of her snatch like some crazy dildo. When it was well-coated with her pussy juice she removed it and passed it to George.
"Try my sauce first," she announced. The other girls were delighted with the unique idea and anxious to get in on the contest.
"Now, that's what I call 'finger lickin' good'!" George raved. "If we can figure out a way to franchise this we can put the old Colonel and his secret recipe of herbs and spices right out of business. Imagine a coast-to-coast chain of stands selling nothing but fried chicken that tastes like cunt. Every man in the country would eat there three times a day. Why, that could be the greatest thing since grass. We'd start the biggest fad diet in history. Later, we could expand our menu to include something for the women and the faggots. Did you ever watch a woman at an amusement park eating one of those hot dogs on a stick that has been dipped in corn meal and deep-fat-fried? What did it make you think of? Maybe we could start something like that and then develop a heavy white cream sauce to dip it in and come up with a sort of cocksickle on a stick. Your whole concept is fraught with possibilities," he grinned happily. These were fun girls and George felt like a teen-ager again himself when he was with them.
Each girl took a turn at coating a drumstick with her own highly individual "sauce". Although the bouquet and flavor varied from one to the next, George was hard pressed to determine that any one was actually better than the rest.
"I can only describe each and all as being superb," he announced diplomatically.
Sally and Margo went to the kitchen and returned with an opened bottle of wine and four glasses with which they served the girls.
"Where's my glass?" George asked, feeling left out of this part of the indoor picnic.
There was a brief round of giggling and then Margo announced, "Since you're the King Farouk of our little group we felt it only appropriate that you should drink your wine from the Queen's goblet."
"I don't see anything that looks like a Queen's goblet," George objected as he searched the room with his eyes.
"You will, my boy, you will," Sally smiled as she laid down flat on her back in the middle of the floor and rolled back spreading her legs wide until they touched the floor a foot out from each side of her head. In this position her open gash was raised up until the opening was perfectly horizontal. Margo approached with the bottle of wine and opened her friend's pussy wide with her fingers and poured in the wine until it came up to the level of the spread lips.
"Behold, the Queen's goblet-offered up for his Majesty's wining pleasure. Drink hearty!"
George fell into the spirit of things immediately. He bent over the girl's open crotch and began to lick and lap and sip at the crimson chalice of her sex like a kitten at a bowl of milk. The others were greatly amused by the sight but none so much as Sally who broke into uncontrollable laughter as he carefully licked the very dregs of the wine from the even-sweeter container.
"What's so damned funny?" Margo demanded.
"You'll find out. Just wait till you feel how those bubbles tickle your uterus while George is licking the wine off your clit. Like wow!"
Each of the girls happily took her turn at playing the Queen's goblet game.
"Gee, this is real crazy," George commented, wiping wine from his chin and nose. "What a wonderful idea. Wine-flavored cunt!"
"Yeah," Cathy commented thoughtfully, "interesting but not too commercial. I have a better idea. If we could get some smart vintner to develop a cunt-flavored wine we'd make a million."
"I don't think George is playing quite fair with us, girls," Betty announced suddenly. "We're doing all the giving and he's just taking and not reciprocating. Why, he hasn't even come up with a sauce for the chicken, yet."
"Yeah, that's right!" the others joined in excitedly. "C'mon George. We want to taste your cream sauce on fried chicken. Tell you what, girls. We all know that friend George has a fetish about big tits so let's find the largest breast in the barrel for him to cream."
Eating all the pussy-coated chicken and then drinking wine from the hairy cunts had already given George a roaring hard-on so he was quite prepared for the next action. The nutty young nymphos seated him on the very edge of the center of the couch. Sally and Margo took their places on each side of him and Betty and Cathy seated themselves on the floor between his spread legs. Cathy held the large chicken breast in place while Sally and Margo tickled the head of his cock and stroked the shaft of it while Betty tickled and squeezed his balls. It was a fantastic new experience for old George to find himself being beautifully masturbated by three lovely young girls at once. They giggled and commented at the way his cock twitched and throbbed at the triple header it was receiving. It didn't take long before they saw the purplish head puff up and Cathy held the chicken breast directly in front of the gaping slit as he let go and ejaculated blast after blast of the frothy white sauce of his privately distilled ball brandy over the golden brown surface of the still-warm fried poultry. Using his cock as a spatula Betty rubbed the semen sauce smoothly over the surface of the breast of chicken. Then the girls passed it around until they had eaten it all.
"Man, talk about Chicken Delight!" Betty exclaimed. "That has to be the greatest. Up till now I never really cared that much for chicken. Guess it's because I never had it served with the right sauce."
"Can you imagine the furor this would cause if this were served as 'Chicken Surprise' at the Gay Liberation Ball when the boys are electing their Queen for a Day!" Cathy remarked.
"Yeah, it makes any creamed white wine sauce I've ever had before taste like sour owl shit in comparison," Sally giggled.
"It's the greatest, all right. George, do you think you could produce enough of that that we could can it commercially?" Margo asked.
The wine and the general fun had them all in high spirits. After a while Sally and Margo got curious and tried the Queen's goblet action with each other. They must have thought it had merit because after a while they didn't even bother with the wine, anymore. The sight of the lesbian-type act brought George back to life again.
It was nearly ten thirty when Cathy suddenly asked, "Hey, what's for dessert?"
Betty hopped to her feet. "Gee, it's a good thing you asked. I had almost forgotten it." She trotted off to the kitchen, pleased with some inner secret she shared only with herself.
Moments later she returned shaking a large spray can.
"This is no damn time to spray your hair or apply underarm deodorant," Margo scolded.
"Far from it. Girls, tonight you brought the chicken and the wine. I want to announce that the dessert is on George." Betty looked at the astonished man as she spoke.
As Betty led poor dumbfounded George to the cocktail table, she signaled Cathy to clear it off and then directed him to lie down on it while the girls knelt around him. Now she produced the spray can which turned out to be Redi-Whip. Pressing the nozzle she coated his cock and balls with a heavy layer of the pressurized whipped cream. The cool aerated liquid tickled and George's hidden pecker twitched beneath the gob of white. Next, Betty produced a large cherry and planted it in the gooey mess.
"For desert tonight we have a sex sundae. Now you can see what I meant when I said that the dessert was on George." The girls all laughed, anxious to get on with the game.
"What's with the cherry?" Sally asked.
"Just a little touch of turn-about. George got all of your cherries. Now one of you will get his." She buried the cherry out of sight in the whipped cream that rose above his twitching crotch. "All right, girls, dig into the dessert!"
They leaned over the prone man and four anxious young tongues began licking at the whipped cream. Margo found the cherry much to the delight of her friends. They licked until the whipped cream was gone and then they licked at George. Some of them sucked on his parts, anxious to get the last of the sweet coating. Betty had to practically pull Sally off of him, physically, in order to spray on another layer. This time she lifted his balls and applied it beneath them and all over the hairs that surrounded his rigid cock. When he was well-coated they put aside the can and again proceeded to tongue off the soft, fluffy fluid. They started around his stomach and worked their way down to his balls. George could feel the sensational soft touch of the four tongues and periodically he could hear them swallowing the whipped cream as they would soon be swallowing his cream when he was thoroughly whipped by their tongues and lips. The effect of the erotic game was utterly galvanizing upon the dirty old man. By the time those tongues reached the base of his trembling prick he was in seventh heaven.
Spiraling upward over his throbbing cock now like it was a barber pole, Betty and Cathy, one from each side, licked and sucked off every drop of the soft, sweet aerated whipped cream while Sally and Margo concentrated on licking it all from his quivering balls. The entire effect was superbly torturous. By the time Cathy's tongue got the last drop off of the weeping head of his swollen prick, George was about to scream. He grabbed her head and forced it down over the full length of his turgid cock while the other girls rolled back his legs and tongued and licked and sucked at his balls and asshole. Cathy's tongue kept working along the veins and nerve endings of his near-bursting sex as she traveled up and down the full length of it from tip to base. She was on her fourth deep gulp clear down to his balls which the others were still licking when he exploded like a Roman candle in her mouth. She kept licking and sucking on the long-tortured staff until the last fraction of a drop had trickled down her throat. All the while he was aiming in her mouth. She kept up a series of appreciative little moans and groans while her friends' tongues kept urging his balls to disgorge ever more of their ambrosia. When he could stand it no longer he forced her wanton mouth from his now-limp cock and shooed the others from his fully drained balls. Cathy smiled down at him as she swallowed deeply and admitted that his cum was even sweeter than the whipped cream.
It seemed only fair that George reciprocate now. He -lined up the girls on the edge of the long couch and filled their fur-fringed trenches with the pressurized whipped cream. When he got through they looked like four banana splits in a row on an ice cream counter.
Working from left to right he lapped the airy white cream from one pink trough after another and concentrated on the even-sweeter cream beneath it and on the little cherry-like tips of their pink-and-white clitorises until his tongue was nearly paralyzed by the time he brought the fourth member of his sexy quartet to final orgasm.
When the girls dressed and left and George straightened up the house he knew that this night of nights was one that would stand out vividly in his memory if he lived to be a hundred.
His life had certainly done a complete about-face since he had discovered the delights of pedophilia. A bevy of young beautiful girls like these could pump more life back into a dirty old man than all of the plasma and penicillin in the world. It was a wonder that the geriatrics specialists didn't prescribe this treatment more universally.
CHAPTER NINE
The next night and the three of the following weekend turned into more pages straight out of the Arabian Nights for George Ross. His newfound sex life made him suddenly feel twenty years old and ten feet tall. During the week, he had Betty every night. He dreaded the passage of the days until Alice and Fred came home and brought the whole dream to a rude awakening. Oh well, he had one more weekend to look forward to. By Thursday, that weekend seemed like it would never arrive. He was like a little boy waiting for Christmas. He got terribly bored hanging around the house watching the stupid daytime TV shows while Betty was in school. This day, while Jimmy was taking his two-hour afternoon nap, George decided to go down to the Barrel Inn and have a few drinks, shoot the shit and perhaps a few games of pool with the boys. At least that would make the time pass faster until Betty came to the house after school.
George, of course, had no way of knowing it but while he was at the bar drinking and gabbing with the boys the phone at home rang incessantly. Not being there during the entire time, it rang every five minutes but he couldn't answer it. Missing that call was destined to change his life. When he returned a little after three in the afternoon, Jimmy was screaming in his bed. The constant jangling of the telephone bell had kept him awake and frightened since he realized that it meant that he was alone in the house. George thought that the youngster had just had a bad dream. Soon Betty arrived and bathed and played with him and he was quite calm by the time she fed him and bedded him down for the night.
At eight o'clock a television show came on that Betty had to watch in connection with a school assignment. They were late finishing dinner and getting the dishes cleaned up and by the time they went into the den it was nearly eight. They had time to take off their clothes but not to do anything about it.
Maybe it was the drinks that he had had that afternoon or perhaps some subconscious apprehension, but suddenly George found himself as horny as a stud farm stallion. The mere sight of Betty's nude body with the big lovely tits and the firm globes of her ass had given him a roaring hard-on that threatened to burst right through the taut skin of his cock. Betty was neither unaware of it nor uninterested in the sudden development. The sight of his huge horsecock in such a magnificent erection always made the blood pound in her head and in other places. It would be a criminal waste not to put that beauty to immediate use. Perhaps she could service it and still pay enough attention to the show to get by at school the next day. It was worth a try.
On a sudden inspiration, Betty got down on her hands and knees on the carpet in front of the TV and signaled George to kneel behind her. In this way he could get at either entrance he chose, dog fashion, while they both watched television. In George's present condition, he needed no second invitation. Kneeling between her own knees, he guided the burning tip of his highly aroused prick into the creamy slit of her cunt. The show that she was watching bored him and he preferred to look down at his own action. He spread her buttocks wide in order to have an unobstructed view of his big hard cock burying itself in the juicy gash of her sex and then being exhumed only to bury itself again. It was like the grunions run and bury themselves in the sand over and over again. As he looked down, the little pucker in the center of the lovely cleavage winked up at him invitingly. What the hell, he could fuck her anytime. This was too good an opportunity to cornhole her to pass up. He wondered if that would distract her more than what he was doing now.
"I've got a half a mind to pull it out of your cunt and shove it up your lovely hot ass," he told her.
"Go ahead," she invited.
His throbbing prick was well-coated now with her pussy juice and as he placed it on target it burrowed easily into the tight stricture of her soft warm asshole.
"God, but you've got a marvelous asshole," he told her during the next commercial. "It's always like a virgin's tight little cunt. I love it."
Betty loved it too because she began humping back wildly, bouncing his dangling balls between her open thighs as she met his every thrust into her rear.
Between the distractions of the television and the wildly abandoned passion of their anal intercourse, neither of the naked lovers had heard the taxi arrive or the front door opening. There was no warning, to time or place to hide. Suddenly, the overhead lights were switched on and Fred strode into the room to discover his father-in-law buggering the nude baby-sitter. It all happened as quickly and unexpectedly as a bolt of summer lightning.
Fred flew into an immediate tirade shouting and screaming obscenities and barely giving old George time enough to yank on his clothes before he grabbed him by the belt and the nape of the neck and threw him bodily down the front steps of his home while the frightened child from next door trembled naked in the den, petrified at the ensuing scandal.
George picked himself up and ran down the street. He hid in the bushes across the street and watched until fifteen minutes later Betty left alone and returned to her house. At least they hadn't marched her home to report what they had seen to her parents. That, at least, was one thing to be thankful for. Why couldn't they have phoned from the airport when they flew home ahead of schedule? He had no way of knowing that they had tried for hours to phone him from Chicago and were sure that some horrible tragedy had befallen their son. George had a little over six dollars in his pocket and no place to go, other than to the Barrel Inn.
Walking to the bar he realized that his sex odyssey had followed the pattern of a James M. Cain novel in that it had all ended right back where it had begun. It had started when he discovered the young boy with Betty and had seduced her under threat of exposure after throwing the lad out of the house. It ended by him being discovered and thrown from the house. He had no idea what would happen to him now. Alice was the only family he had left in the world and surely he could never enter her home again. It would be even worse after they searched his room and found the all-too-obvious souvenir "battle flags."
Slowly, he made his way to the little neighborhood bar and ordered two double belts of bourbon.
Later, when he regained enough composure to think coherently, he thought of his old side-kick Jack Finlay. He and Jack had gone through college together and worked with each other for many years. Jack was the only real friend he had in the world and if there was anything George Ross needed right now it was a real friend.
When their unemployment insurance had run out, Jack had been one of the lucky ones. He had no family to provide for his keep and had qualified for county and state relief payments. As part of this aid program, he was given a large room in a downtown hotel catering largely to senior citizens and enough cash to live like a gentleman. George had often resented the fact that these impersonal relief agencies had treated Jack infinitely better than his own loving family had treated him.
From the phone booth of the bar, George reached Jack through the hotel switchboard and reported his current dilemma as briefly as he could. He tried to disguise the note of desperation that must have crept into his little recital. After a brief pause that seemed like an eternity to George, Jack's words came across the line like the voice of a guardian angel.
"Sounds to me like you need more than a friend, little buddy. At the moment you sound more like you need a few stiff drinks. Fortunately, I just got my county check this morning so I'm fairly affluent, at least for a few days. Do you have enough cash to take a cab down here?"
"Yes, I think so," George admitted sheepishly. It's always hard to let friends know just how broke you are.
"All right, tell you what you do. You grab a cab and get on down here and out of that neighborhood before your son-in-law has a posse out looking to string you up. There's a little bar next to the hotel, called 'Rudy's'. I'll meet you there. Don't try to economize and take the bus. If you don't have enough dough to pay off the cab, get what you need from Frazer, the bartender. I'll phone him now and tell him I'll stand good for it. You can bunk with me. I'll make the arrangements with the manager here and then we'll get you set up on the same relief program I'm on. Get your ass down here as quickly as you can. The first thing we'll do is hang one on tonight and talk it all out until we get your head screwed back on right. At the moment you sound like an emotional basket case." He hung up before George could even mutter "Thanks."
Rudy's was several cuts above the Barrel Inn which was the only bar he had frequented the past couple of years. There were polished paneled walls covered with brass plaques, red-leather booths and bar stools and, above all, a friendly atmosphere. Most of the customers seemed to be old friends.
"You must be George Ross," a pleasant voice called to him from behind the bar. "Right over here, Mister Ross. What's your pleasure?"
George knew that he had exactly fifty cents left after paying the cabbie. At least he could order a beer while he waited for Jack. His hesitancy must have shown because the bartender added, "The first drink for a new customer is always on the house here. After that, Finlay said to put them on his tab. He'll be along shortly."
"That's very kind of you. I guess I could use a shot of bourbon. Are you Frazer?" George asked his newfound sponsor.
"That's right, Frazer Macmillan. Scotch in name but generous in nature," he grinned and produced a bottle of Jack Daniels Black Label and a double shot glass which he filled to the brim. "Any friend of Jack Finlay's gets nothing but the very best in here,"
" he smiled and moved down the bar to other customers.
George sipped the fine bourbon appreciatively. After the rotgut that the Barrel served it tasted like the nectar of the gods. It was as though he had stepped into a new life in a new world. Already, it began to feel good to get out of the low-rent district.
Jack Finlay arrived five minutes later. George recognized the beautiful head of wavy gray hair before he could make out his friend's facial features in the dimly lit bar. Jack had a kind, easy-going manner that did more than any tranquilizer to ease his jangled nerves at this awful point in life. He was one of those rare humans who genuinely enjoy helping their friends without ever making them feel obligated. Through the years that they had known each other, George had often seen Jack lend a buddy his last twenty bucks with no hint of the fact that it left him penniless. Thank God for a friend like Jack Finlay, he thought. Obviously, his own opinion of Jack was shared by others since there were many friendly calls of "Hi, Jack" before he even reached George's side at the bar.
"Welcome to our happy darkness in this veil of tears," Jack quipped as he slapped his oldest friend on the back. "It's nice to have you aboard."
"Thank you very much, old friend," George mumbled simply. He never seemed to be very good with words when something meant a lot to him.
During the hours between their meeting and closing time at Rudy's, Jack demonstrated his cogent knowledge of basic human psychology by getting his frightened friend quite drunk, like a scared ostrich, George's best defense at the moment was to hide his head in the sand of temporary oblivion.
At two a.m. he led George, a trifle unsteadily, to his room and bedded him down on the couch while he pulled down the in-a-door Murphy bed upon which he slept.
The next morning, after a healthy breakfast, Jack took George down to register for state and county financial assistance. Three weeks later the papers were processed and George was assigned his own room at the hotel. Jack had the manager do a little switching around and George was assigned the room next to his. The connecting door was unlocked and the two old friends now shared a poor man's suite. It was a far cry from the six-hundred-dollar-a-month houses in La Jolla that they had rented during the heyday of the aerospace program, but it was still many steps up the ladder from the little room off the kitchen in which his dear daughter and her husband had ensconced him. Two days later, George's first checks arrived. They totaled to nearly two hundred dollars. It was more money than George had seen all at once since his wife had been killed. His budget of late had been geared to the five-dollar-a-week allowance Alice had slipped him out of her household money. He thought that it was a sad commentary upon our current society that a man who had contributed so much to his country's current status should have his standard of living so drastically elevated by going on relief.
A little at a time George had relayed the facts of his anti-social experiences at pedophilia to Jack. He had regarded the narration as a sort of confessional to cleanse his soul. He was, therefore, a little taken aback when Jack finally commented.
"Why, you lucky old son-of-a-bitch. I haven't had a decent piece of ass in over two years. The only nooky we get around here is the old whores that crawl out of the woodwork once a month when our relief checks arrive. You're a damn fool. Obviously, those young broads dug you for some inexplicable reason. They probably miss you as much as you miss them. Why don't you look them up. You know where they go to school. You could bump into them accidentally on purpose on the street near there one day."
It took three days of waiting around the school before George spotted Betty. She saw him at almost the same instant and ran into his arms.
"Oh, I've missed you so, George. Why didn't you come back for me. My life has been miserable since they threw you out," she sobbed.
In the rear booth of a nearby soda shop they talked while the blaring jukebox drowned out their conversation. It developed that the other girls were anxious to see him too and take up where they had left off. Perhaps, it would be easier now that he had his own pad. Before they parted, George made sure that Betty had remembered the name of his hotel. She could get the number out of the book and call him there. He didn't want her carrying around his phone number in her purse. He had some tricky arrangements to make before she phoned him that evening.
Back at the hotel he explained to the manager that he had these four young nieces whom he had always helped with their high school homework. They could hardly do this in the confused atmosphere of the lobby or public rooms and so he got permission to have them come to his room for the purposes of study assistance. George did not bother to mention the subject that he was helping them to learn.
The next afternoon, Betty and the hairy little blonde Cathy visited his room and they had a wild sex ball. His young nymphets had developed into full-fledged nymphomaniacs and, thinking that they had lost him, they had been laying everyone in sight. Even these two young sexpots demanded more attention this afternoon than George could provide. When Jack arrived unexpectedly, they were happy to take him on, too. They were in a frame of mind to welcome all mature comers. Their mental attitude opened up vast new financial vistas for poor-old-over-the-hill George. Cautiously, he spread the word among the sex-starved male senior citizens of the hotel that fresh young quim was available in his two-room suite three afternoons a week-for a price. All the girls were interested in was experienced mature cock. They were blithely unaware that their sex mentor, George Ross, was pimping for them rather than just assisting them socially. They even brought in occasional new recruits.
George opened a secret bank account in which to deposit his ill-gotten gains. The balance of this account built rapidly as he began to formulate plans of opening a full-fledged whorehouse where young girls would specialize in catering to the sexual whims of older men. The months began to swim happily by as this bank balance spiraled. He was almost within sight of his goal.
Everything that happened to George Ross always seemed to happen on a Thursday. It had been a Thursday when he had been laid off of his last high-paying job in aerospace. His unemployment had run out on a Thursday. It had been a Thursday night when his wife had been run over and killed, and still another Thursday night when Fred had walked in and caught him red handed buggering Betty. Goddamn, how he hated Thursdays!
Now it was another Thursday when he was in the hotel suite screwing Cathy up that hairy asshole of hers while three other old goats from the hotel were engaging in various other forms of sex acts with his other young protegees. The phone had rung a couple of times but he had been too happily engrossed in his buggery to get up and answer it. Now there was a pounding on the door. It was probably just another overanxious client for the girls' services. He would simply have to wait. At length the pounding stopped and there was silence for five minutes. He didn't hear the key in the lock when the manager opened the door for his social worker who feared that he might be lying dead on the floor of a heart attack as so many of his charges were lately. The square little civil servant flew into a temper tantrum when he walked in on the orgiastic activities of the older-younger sex group. He insisted that the hotel personnel stand guard at the doors to make sure that none of the erotic participants leave until the authorities arrived and then he phoned the police.
The minor females were hauled off to juvenile hall. The "customers" were charged with disorderly conduct and released on their own recognizance and George, the obvious villain, was charged with carnal abuse and contributing to the delinquency of minors.
Once more, with success almost within reach, the bubble had blown up in George's face. He was led from the hotel in handcuffs. From the expression on the manager's face, George knew that, once more, he had closed a door in his life that he could never hope to reopen.
Down at police headquarters he was fingerprinted and posed under the bright lights for the mug shots with the long numbers hung around his neck. Although he had several thousand dollars in the hidden bank account and could readily afford to get his own bail, he didn't dare do so for fear that the source of his hidden wealth might come to light.
For six endless days and nights George sat in a dank cell awaiting his day in court. For company he had two black pimps and a pickpocket. There is a grapevine, even in jails, and his cellmates soon learned that he was despoiler of young girls. Even in the society of these low-life companions, George Ross was a social outcast.
At last he had achieved the stamp of official recognition to his role as a dirty old man.
CHAPTER TEN
In deference to the girls' youth, the hearing was closed and held in the judge's chambers.
Undoubtedly, on advice of attorneys, the parents brought their daughters dressed in boxy jackets and long skirts with bobby socks and saddle shoes. Their hair was done in long braids with ribbons. They were doing everything but carry rag dolls to prove their youthful innocence. How could the poor square old judge possibly realize how mature and sexy they were in the nude and in the hay.
After a brief hearing the girls were placed on probation and released in their parents' custody. George was sure that he would draw hard time on the carnal abuse charge but the judge was surprisingly lenient and instead remanded him to a state hospital for psychiatric observation, treatment and rehabilitation.
As George climbed aboard the Sheriff's Department bus for the trip to the state hospital, he figured that, after all, he was a pretty lucky son-of-a-bitch. After all, six months at the "happy academy" beat the shit out of five years in the steel chateau. With any hick at all he could probably con his way out of that "bunny hutch" in sixty days and still line up the girls and follow through with his original master plan.
The state psychiatric center wasn't at all what George had imagined it would be. He had visualized a bunch of wild-eyed nuts running around frothing at the mouth. Instead, he met some of the most normal, apparently well-adjusted people he had encountered in years. The staff seemed to be a high type of trained professional personnel and he found himself actually looking forward to his first interviews.
His first session was in front of a board of three psychiatrists. They asked him to describe simply the events leading up to his problem and he did so as frankly as he knew how, They didn't treat him like a sex maniac nor were there any little clucking noises on their part or the furtive exchange of knowing glances. For the most part, they were as easy to talk to about the whole experience as Jack Finlay had been.
There followed a series of psychiatric examinations by means of regressive hypnosis in which he was carried back to his early childhood and then up to the present time. George was sufficiently erudite to realize that they were taking a Freudian approach to discover if he had a deep hatred for his grandmother or an underlying incestuous desire to engage his mother, or later, his daughter, in sexual intercourse. Although they never disclosed to him the results of any individual group of tests, he got the distinct impression that they had found him perfectly normal in all areas that they had probed thus far. by an almost-frightening coincidence, it was on a Thursday morning that he was scheduled for his first discussion session with Dr. Martha Miller who had been assigned to his case. Dr. Miller was a pleasant, extremely attractive woman about his own age. In some strange way she reminded George of his late wife. She was a large, Junoesque figure of a woman with mammoth breasts and a full ripe figure that his Jewish friends would have described as "softig". She was several inches taller than George and was more woman that he had ever seen in one package before. From their initial meeting they seemed to. have a lot in common. She was easy to talk to and seemed to display a genuine interest in what he had to say. George was soon telling her the story of his life. When he related his professional training and experience in aircraft and aerospace, he couldn't help but reveal a trace of underlying bitterness at having been put out to pasture at what should have been the very peak of his career. She listened-to his narration with genuine compassion and made it easier by confiding in him that her late husband had been through an almost-identical experience in the same field. He had been unable to live with the sudden rejection by the .very industry to which he had devoted so much of his life and talents and had eventually taken his own life rather than to become a burden upon her and their young daughter.
George felt a very deep compassion for Dr. Miller from their very first meeting and his feelings for her grew as the months passed. In one discussion session she asked him about the unnatural attraction he felt toward teen-age girls. She must have felt his eyes studying her face and figure for long moments before he replied, "I suppose it occurred because, during that difficult period of my life, I had neither social nor financial opportunities to establish a meaningful relationship with a real woman like you."
Something in the unguarded simple sincerity of his answer must have moved her because she hesitated for a long time before she continued, "Yes, I think I can understand that problem. In a way, Mister Ross, you're to be congratulated. Many highly trained psychologists and sociologists our age have made a long and sincere effort to bridge the so-called 'generation gap' that separates and alienates us from the young people of today. I must say that, in your own erotic fashion, you seem to have bridged that gap and gained acceptance on the other side most effectively." She fixed George with a knowing smile that made him blush from his scalp to his navel.
"I suppose some phases of human life are ageless," he mumbled, by way of explanation.
"I suppose," she replied laconically.
In their next session, she hit George with a question that he recognized as being the very crux of determining the length of his tenure in this institution, "Mister Ross, I want you to give this question very careful consideration before answering it."
"Very well, Doctor Miller. I shall give you only a carefully considered answer," he said solemnly.
"If some magical genie were to appear and give you your choice of a sex partner, would you choose a sixteen-year-old virgin girl or a mature, sexually experienced woman?"
George appeared to be in deep thought. Actually, he was merely stalling for time until he caught the lady psychologist's eyes. When she looked directly at him he locked eyes with her and stated simply, "I have always seen infinitely more beauty and fragrance in a full-blown rose than in a tight young bud. There is no question in my mind that I'd choose the mature, sexually experienced woman-especially if she happened to look like you."
Now it was Martha Miller's turn to blush. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her as a woman, rather than as a doctor.
George Ross was released from the State Hospital as fully rehabilitated to society two days later. Before leaving, he requested a final meeting with Dr. Martha Miller. "Doctor Miller, I had to thank you before leaving. You have made my stay here not only tolerable but also enjoyable. I hate to think that our pleasant visits must end when I walk out of that front door. I might be tempted to do something to bring me back here. Tell me, would it violate any professional ethics if I asked if I might anticipate the pleasure of seeing you on a strictly unprofessional basis after I leave here, now that I have been socially retreaded? If not, I pray that you may see fit to do me the honor of dining with me Saturday night."
"I deeply regret to tell you, Mister Ross, that any such discussion between patient and doctor is highly unethical." She opened her top desk drawer and removed a card and wrote something on it. "However, once you walk out of that front door you're no longer a patient and once I walk out that back door I'm no longer a doctor. If you will phone me at this number after six this evening I'm sure that Saturday will prove a most convenient date." She smiled and extended the card and her hand.
Goddamn, George thought, she's more woman than all four of those young quims put together.
As George Ross left the State Hospital, he realized that total social rehabilitation is truly possible. For the first few weeks he was there, his only thought was to get out and call the girls. Now they could go screw their pimply faced high school boy friend's. The big thing in his life now was to call Martha. There was enough woman there to keep him thoroughly busy for the next twenty years.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The parking lot attendant opened the door for him and George ran around to help Martha from the car. A sixteen-year-old girl named Liz came out after Martha and George escorted them proudly into Scandia Restaurant where he had reserved a special table for the occasion. It was a very special one, indeed, for tonight they were having a double celebration. It was the second anniversary of the day when he and Martha had been married in the Little Chapel by the Sea and the first anniversary of the day when he had legally adopted her daughter Liz as his own.
George is proud and happy with his job as technical librarian at UCLA. He assists young engineering students to find the research material they need for their term papers.
It was a wonderful happy evening for the three of them. As George waited for the waiter to bring the check, four beautiful young girls came in and sat in the booth across from them. They looked very much like four young girls he had known eons before.
"Look, daddy, aren't they pretty. They look so sexy in those dresses," Liz remarked, patting his knee.
"Yes, dear, they're lovely children," George said, hardly giving them a second glance. He was too busy admiring Martha's new dress bought for the occasion, that made her tits put the Venus de Milo to shame.
As he reached across for the check he knocked the pipe from his mouth, spilling tobacco and ashes all over the tablecloth.
"George Ross, you're a dirty old man," Martha chided him.
"Haven't you heard, my dear, they've discovered a cure for that. It's simply that dirty old men need love, too."
