Carl's fingers curled around Misty's hips and he cupped her ass in both hands. He pressed hard into the firm cheeks of her bottom, rubbing his hard, long cock against her wet, waiting pussy. As she sighed with pleasure, he used his shaft to tease her clit ... going up and down her slit ... making her clit stand erect ... pushing the tip of his manhood inside her hole-then withdrawing it quickly.
Misty was being driven wild with lust and knew that if Carl didn't ram his cock all the way up her hungry cunt soon-she was going to do it for him!
CHAPTER ONE
Misty was having trouble getting to sleep. She was restless, too warm, itching. She lay on her back, the covers thrown back, her shortie nightgown barely down over her crotch. Her crotch. That was the trouble. She itched down there and she didn't know why.
She sighed and looked toward the window, where a vague glow from the street created shadows on the ceiling and walls. Occasionally she heard a car hiss by and she realized it was late. She stirred again and again her hands moved toward her crotch. No, that wasn't right. She wasn't going to get into that scene again.
Technically, Misty was a virgin. In her seventeen years she'd done everything short of fucking with her various boyfriends. She'd played all sorts of sex games with them so that their hands had roamed her body. She'd felt their cocks and balls through their jeans, but she hadn't actually seem them exposed.
As her girlfriends had done, Misty had on occasion played games with herself when the tension became unbearable. The tension came more often lately as her body reached full maturity and demanded the satisfaction that only fucking can provide.
Misty simply had refused to meet those demands. She wasn't that sort of a girl, for one thing. She hadn't been raised by her strict parents to become a tart, and that is the way she thought of girls who allowed themselves to be screwed by the boys at school. Plenty of them had already done it, but she was among the rare holdouts.
There were other reasons for Misty's chastity She was naive, thinking that she had to "save" herself for the right young man. She also was afraid. She didn't know about sex and she didn't want to be hurt in any way. If she were to be fucked, she believed, in some way she would be changed. Others would see the change in her and know that she had "gone all the way."
Such abstention meant that Misty had to resort to artificial measures for relief, as so many of her friends were doing-or had done before they went out and engaged in the real thing. She had her share of candles, broom handles and other equipment hidden about her room and she used them when the going became too much to bear.
She realized that doing this was almost as bad as being screwed by a real cock, but at least this way her secret was kept, and, technically, she remained a virgin. This night she resolved that she was finished with such childish measures. After all, Jerry was home now and he had a habit of popping in and out of her room at will. God, if he were to catch her it would be awful. He'd never let her forget it.
Still, Jerry was different now. He was twenty, grown up, a veteran of three years in the Navy and heaven only knew what he'd done in all those foreign ports. He'd come home to his family as a man, a brisk young man ready to go back to college and make something of himself. He was almost six feet tall and he'd filled out beautifully, even though he still had the towheaded look of a teen-ager.
Jerry. She wondered what he was doing at that moment. He'd been going out almost every night since he'd come home to stay and bought his used Pinto. He and the little car were on the go. He told Misty and their parents that he was out almost every night for a "few beers with the boys."
But what was Jerry really doing? After all, he had girlfriends in town. Even Sally, Misty's best friend, had been out with Jerry, but she'd reported that nothing had happened. Misty didn't know whether to believe her friend. After all, she couldn't tell all and remain faithful to the code, not when the man was her best friend's brother. Still, Jerry probably wouldn't get serious about Sally simply because she was a security risk. Sally and Misty were too close and there were few secrets between them.
If Jerry was playing around, he was mature enough not to brag about it. He'd learned in the Navy to keep his mouth shut about his sexual exploits, Misty imagined. That way nobody got into trouble and the competition wasn't let in on a good thing.
Misty sighed again, squirming. Yes, it was so good to have Jerry home again. They'd always been close, even though he'd always called her "kid" because she was younger, smaller, more vulnerable. Many times he had defended her when she'd been in peril, like when older boys had discovered her ripening body and wanted to put their hands on her, get her behind the school gym, anywhere where they could do even more. Jerry had told them to back off and Misty had grown up with her virginity intact.
In fact, Jerry had been defending a sweet and ripe target, because Misty had a great deal to offer the first young man who scored with her. She was rather tall, blonde with blue eyes that could be icy or like a heated sauna, and with a willowy figure similar to her mother's. The two women often were taken for sisters because Mrs. Sommer, not yet forty, had kept her blonde and blue-eyed looks in face and figure.
Misty's body was ripe for the picking. Her hips had assumed mature womanly curves, her legs were long and straight with firm, tanned California-bikini thighs, her shoulders were even more tanned, soft and round, and her breasts were full with the firmness of youth. There was no sag to her body and her nipples had that fresh pink virginal look, as though they never had been touched by human hands-although they had, once or twice.
That ripe body was giving Misty a great deal of trouble now. She wanted desperately for something to happen, anything to ease her restlessness so that she could get some rest. The itching was getting worse and if she couldn't control it she'd be using her finger inside her cunt again, and she didn't want to get back into that scene. She blinked as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling where the shadows played, moved by the trees outside.
It was summer and it was warm. Misty and her friends spent their days at the beach, romping in their bikinis, their golden bodies becoming firm and strong, more ready for the challenges of a mature sex life than most of the girls realized. Misty was considered more beautiful than most of her friends and she realized this. Actually, she was lusted after by more young men than any girl in the neighborhood, simply because she was the most perfectly developed. But Misty was not a conceited young woman. She had been raised to be a good girl, a modest girl, one who did not parade about showing off her charms, putting down her less well-endowed friends.
Again her sigh broke the stillness of her bedroom, but a moment later another sound came to her ears. It came from outside and it was a sound she already recognized, even though she'd only heard it for the last week or so. It was the sound of Jerry's little car, purring into the driveway and then dying as he turned off the ignition.
She lay quietly, except for the itching, listening as she heard the door click shut as softly as her brother could close it. There was nothing until she heard footsteps on the stairs. He'd let himself in the rear of the house, through the kitchen and across the front rooms to the steps. He knew the house well in blackness, even though he'd been home only about ten days after being so long away. After all, it was the house Jerry and Misty had known all of their lives.
She heard an occasional creaking in the corridor outside her room and then the sound stopped. She waited, knowing that he hadn't gone into his room. She held her breath when, a moment later, the sound of scratching came to her ears. He was touching her door. She half sat up, about to call out to him to come in, but she lay down again. What did he want at this hour?
After a moment her door opened and she lay quietly on the bed, her eyes half open, shielded by her lashes, in the half light. He crept across the room to the side of her bed where he stopped to look down into her face. He leaned close and she could see him peering intently at her.
"Misty?" he whispered.
She was about to open her eyes and speak, but something held her back. She remained as she was, quiet, pretending to be asleep. There was something in his voice that stopped her.
He leaned even closer and then his hands came up to touch her body. She felt his fingers on her shoulder. "Misty?" he repeated.
Her only response was to breathe deeply, as though deeply in dreamland. She felt her body tense, however, and a tingling started. It was added to the itch which had been bothering her earlier. God, what was wrong with her? Why was she so switched on, like there were bells going off from her head to her toes?
Jerry's hand slid from her shoulder to her throat and, as she fought to remain breathing naturally, the fingers came down between her breasts. She couldn't repress a sigh of vague surprise and delight. For a moment he stopped, on guard, but soon she was able to be silent and, presumably, fast asleep.
The hand was between her breasts, down inside the low neck of her nightgown. The other hand slid the gown over her shoulders and began to pull it down over her breasts. She felt the material raking across her nipples and the sensation was close to driving her out of her mind.
She caught her breath and again he paused. Again she settled down, moaning gently as though caught up in the heaven of a delightful dream. The nightgown came down over her breasts and she felt it being slid all the way to her waist. So, he was peering down at her breasts now, and through slitted eyes, she saw his face change. He looked eager and he actually licked his lips in anticipation.
Only with difficulty did Misty refrain from lifting her arms, wrapping them around his neck, and drawing him to herself. She lay on her back, her hands at her sides, her body giving an occasional small wiggle.
At last Jerry placed a hand flat on her breast, her right breast, his ringers and palm cupping its pear-shaped bulk and sinking gently into the golden flesh. She felt the heat of his hand on the tip of her sensitive nipple and again a small gasp escaped her lips. But she did not move as he gently pumped the breast. He caught the nipple between his fingers and pinched it gently.
The breast immediately began to swell, to burgeon, to nuzzle into his hand like a puppy seeking warmth and affection. She wormed her hips back and forth on the bed, her knees pumping gently. But then she made herself lie still once again. This was a first for them and Misty didn't want to frighten him off.
His hand left her breast, and for a moment, she was disappointed. Then his head came down and her brain did a series of rocket-like flare-ups as she felt his lips touch her other breast. She held her breath and her body arched up to meet his face as the mouth moved across the upper slope of the breast, down to the pink bud at its center. Oh, but her flesh was so tender and responsive there. The bud burst forth like a spring flower, popping erect as her entire breast swelled and the puckered pink skin tightened.
The sizzling arcs of joy rocketed all through her body so that even her toes curled. Misty rolled her hands into fists as she pressed them against the bed. She kept her eyes hooded and she lay as quietly as she was able, but it was not easy. She was on fire now, praying that she would do nothing to frighten her brother away.
Her brother. Yes, it was her own flesh and blood doing this thing to her. Was it so terrible? She didn't know. She did know that they both were enjoying themselves and that no one was being hurt. But were they sinning? She didn't know that either. She did know that her body was alive, more alive than it ever had been before in her life. No boy ever had kissed her nipples, and it was a glorious feeling.
The mouth moved to her other nipple and, as he kissed her there, his hands moved to her hips. There he gathered folds of her skimpy nightgown and began to pull, working it even lower on her body. Soon she was arching her back again, moving her bottom up off the sheet so that he could gently pull the gown all the way down. She felt it drag across her belly, her navel and then down over her ass and crotch.
She realized he was able to see everything now as the gown slithered down her thighs, her lower legs and finally over her feet. The nightgown was gone completely and she was naked before his gaze. The tingling was zinging through her like bolts of electricity now as her body awaited his next move.
Misty's every muscle and every nerve awaited his next move, too. She was ready, but still she dared not wake up in case he would be spooked and run away. After all, he might not be doing this if he thought she were awake. There was a pause as he apparently was taking his time looking her over.
Then he began to whisper. "God, sis, you do have a body that would stop a speeding train. Look at those tits. I've seen my share in the Navy, but never a set of jugs like your homegrown pair. I'd like to keep them in a bottle in my room so I could play with them any time I wanted."
Misty purred, her body melting at his soothing words. Oh, how good they made her feel! Her big brother, after all the years of teasing her, of protecting her, of being her friend, finally was looking on her as a woman.
"And your pussy. I wonder if you're still a virgin...."
Yes, yes, she wanted to shout. I'm a virgin, Jerry, and I'm yours. No other man ever has had his hands down there, much less his cock. You'll find out, I'm pure.
"God, you really are a blonde bomber. Your snatch looks like it's hidden under a pile of gold coins, all those curly little ringlets of golden hair that I'd like to pluck out with my teeth."
Start plucking, Misty wanted to scream into his face, a thin mist of perspiration beginning to make her body damp and shining. She was writhing more now, unable to remain still as his lips whispered against her nipples.
Then his hands were busy again, sliding down to her smooth belly, which she first sucked in at his touch and then allowed to swell into his pressing fingers. She loved the feel of his hands. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing, to know exactly where they wanted to go.
He paused at her navel, slipping his forefinger into its depths, exploring, and then coming out again. His hand pulled away and for a moment she was disappointed. But then his lips left her breasts, kissing over the full lower slopes of her mounds. She gasped as his mouth moved over fresh territory toward her lower body.
Soon his mouth was following the trail blazed by his ringers, kissing the slightly convex smooth flesh of her belly and then stopping at her belly button. His tongue came out and rasped into the tiny hole, sending shudders ripping into her vitals. For an instant Misty lifted her hands, almost cradling her hands around his head to draw him into her belly. But she made herself put them back on the bed where they belonged.
He did not see, so that she was not given away in her sleeping act. Instead, he was busily kissing her, going beyond her belly button, down over the lower slope of her stomach until his nose encountered the first golden hairs of her crotch. She felt his warm breath disturb her fair forest and immediately she began to secrete.
She smelled the musky scent first and then she felt the slickness start between her legs. Her pussy lips were swelling, lubricating themselves for whatever fate might have in store. She sighed and her hips moved up from the bed. She pressed her crotch toward his face, but he lifted his head to stare up the length of the body.
She could see him looking up toward her face, through the space between her jutting breasts. So she made her body lie flat on the bed once again. She didn't want to confront him as a wide-awake sister, one who would remember all this tomorrow morning and perhaps make trouble in the family. Soon he apparently was convinced that she remained deeply in sleep, disturbed only by erotic dreams, perhaps.
She held her breath as his face turned itself back to her crotch, his nose worming among her hairs freely now. He was kissing her, too, making her incredibly tender flesh jump and pucker with each kiss. Soon he was down just an inch above the place where her lips were joined, where that incredibly vital fold of pussy flesh was waiting for him like a juicy taco to be consumed on the spot.
Misty felt a sob of joy well in her throat, but she forced it back as she knew he was going all the way. His mouth was on her cunt at last and she waited, knowing that where his mouth was his tongue was sure to follow.
CHAPTER TWO
Misty's knees pumped gently as her hips did a little dance of joy. Still, she kept her eyes shielded in the hope that her brother Jerry would believe that she was merely in the midst of an erotic dream as he did his number on her willing body.
His mouth was open, directly over her pussy, and then he was worming through the hairs and kissing her damp lips, which were quivering like a set of nervous puppies. She felt his mouth on her, boring in. The mouth opened wider and his tongue came out. It lapped at her lips, rasping and making them tingle as though he were using a fine grade of sandpaper on her tender flesh.
She gasped and he paused, again looking up at her. She lay as still as she could, her golden hair fanned over the pillow, her hands up over her head now, so that she was totally exposed to him. He was free to do as he pleased. She shuddered as the tongue dipped directly into her hole and then began to swish about, milking her, filling the bedroom again with her musky scent.
Oh! God, but that felt good! His tongue was dipping deeply into her pussy now, worming around until it found her little knot of muscle, her erect button, the seat of all her passion. He strummed it gently, his tongue whipping back and forth over the little female penis, until it was standing up, alive with pleasure and anticipation. Misty felt the final surge in her body and a small cry of pleasure escaped her lips.
Then a great spasm whipped through her, wrenching her body as though by a physical blow. She jerked as the first wave of the orgasm rippled all the way down to her toes. She gasped and then rippled again as the next wave hit. She felt the walls of her pussy convulse as the interior muscles, driven by orders from her nervous system, tried to close around the pressing tongue, seeking to trap it and drag it deeply into her body. But it was only a tongue, after all. It was not six or eight inches long.
But it was a marvelous tongue,-so far as Misty was concerned. It did its job, milking spasm after spasm of ecstasy from her ripe young body. This had been her first orgasm at the hands (and face) of a man, the first one which she had not induced herself or enjoyed by simple accident. It was wonderful, and she again squealed as her writhing body was trapped by his raking tongue, which coaxed more orgasms from her.
In a few minutes she was spent and she fell back, her body damp and relaxing. She gasped for breath, her breasts heaving up and down. He placed his hands on them, feeling their great tension, their burgeoning size, the ripples of pleasure that seemed to be escaping her body through her nipples. She heard him chuckle.
"Misty, my girl," he murmured, "you're going to have a wonderful life. And you're going to make my life wonderful, too. We didn't really do much tonight, but I think we're going to get our kicks again; After all, you got your rocks off, but what about me?"
She might have been willing to show her appreciation, but he gave her a final pat on the breasts as he got up. She felt the bed move and, through hidden eyes, she saw him standing over her, smiling. "I'll see you around, kid," he murmured. And then he was gone.
He slipped from her room without another sound, the door closing behind him as her eyes popped wide open. She sat up, pulled the sheet up to her chin in a belated display of modesty.. She shook her golden head, wondering if she'd really only dreamed what had happened to her. No. it was true enough. She smiled, her teeth a white line in the darkness. It had been real, all right. The tingling of her crotch told her that. There was a spasm of jerking nerve ends still in her emit and she knew that they wanted more.
She fell back on the pillow and, as she tried to think, sleep overtook her. Her eyes were heavy. Then they closed, and Misty fell asleep with a smile bowing her lips.
She was dreaming that someone had opened a door to a bright world outside. It was her brother Jerry and he was looking into her room, with the sun behind his back. Her eyes popped open and she was disappointed to realize that it was only a dream.
The sun was streaming in the window and another summer day had begun in California. She sat up, stretching as she looked at the clock on her bedside table. Heavens, she'd slept for nine hours or more. She leaped from the bed, surprised that she felt no ache in her cunt. It was as though nothing had happened to her the night before. Again she had to remind herself that it hadn't been a dream. It had been real, all right.
She ran into her bathroom, leaped into the shower and let needles of warm water dance over her tanned flesh. Then she dried her body roughly with a huge towel. She brushed her teeth with vigor. Then she wiggled into a pair of tight jeans which hugged the cheeks of her ass like a pair of loving hands. She also slipped on a T-shirt, which was stretched tightly over her breasts. She went without bra and pants, in the fashion of the day. It was summer, it was warm. Why should anybody wear extra clothing?
She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair. She could see the outline of her nipples and the faint pink color through the T-shirt, but she didn't worry about that. She wasn't going to leave the house. If she went outside she'd slip into something less revealing. Soon her hair shone like new gold and she dropped the brush.
She hurried down the hall and down the stairs, into the kitchen. There her mother was at work, doing the dishes. Mrs. Sommer glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. Misty's mother was dressed up, as though she had someplace to go.
"Well, sleepyhead," the older woman said. "I was beginning to think you'd died up there."
"And gone to heaven," Misty giggled, kissing her mother on the cheek. "Where's Jerry?"
"Oh, he's eaten and gone out somewhere. I'm on my way, too. This is my day downtown with the girls. You can get your own breakfast and lunch. There's plenty of food around. If your brother is around, you can get his lunch, too."
Misty seemed to be walking on air as she poured herself juice, milk and a bowl of cereal. She sat at the kitchen table, glancing idly at the morning paper. But her thoughts were somewhere else. God, last night had been real. She could feel it in her pussy now. It still was excited where his tongue had raked across her tender flesh, making her lips swell with pleasure and desire. She ate slowly, until she realized her mother was standing over her.
"What's amusing you this morning?" Mrs. Sommer said, her hands on her hips.
"Nothing much," Misty replied, stifling a giggle. "I feel good, that's all. It's summer and everything's just hunky dory, you dig, Ma'am?"
The older woman sighed. "I can't dig you young people. But I suppose you'll be off to the beach again. You seem to live on sand these days. And you're going to wear out that bikini-not that there's much of it to wear out, anyway."
Misty asked, "Is dad gone?"
"Of course. He left for the office more than an hour ago. Somebody's got to be up with the birds and earning money to keep you children in shoes."
Misty didn't concern herself with money because she didn't have to. She knew her father could afford to buy all the shoes his children needed. He had a good job with a downtown investment office. He earned a good salary and he'd made some sound investments himself over the years. Nobody in the Sommer household would ever have to worry about paying the mortgage.
Which reminded Misty. She tilted her head at her mother. "When is he going to buy me a car? Everybody else in the neighborhood has one."
"When you really need a car," Mrs. Sommer said. "After school starts, perhaps, if you can't get a ride with anyone else and you decide you're too imagine to ride the bus."
Misty stuck out her lower lip. "It would be fun to have a car while school's still out," she said. "Jerry is too busy to let me use his. And he hardly ever gives me a ride." She thought about her night in bed. "But maybe I can get him to be my chauffeur once in a while. You know, we seem to be growing closer together."
Mrs. Sommer placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders, standing behind her chair. "I know. I can see the change in you both since he's come home from the Navy. When you're both in college you can go to school together. I'm glad that you're good friends. A brother needs a sister and vice versa, you know?"
Misty nodded, feeling very wise for a seventeen-year-old girl. "I know."
Her mother did a few more things and then she was gone, her Pontiac pulling out of the driveway and swishing down the street. Misty knew what her mother would do. She'd pick up a couple of girlfriends, they'd go downtown, shop the smart stores, have two drinks each with lunch, and then they'd all come home before their husbands arrived.
Misty finished her breakfast and then she did the dishes. As she hung up the towel she heard Jerry's car turn into the driveway. Her heart gave a little squeeze in her breast and she felt her breathing change. She stood in the kitchen, waiting for him to come in the back door.
He burst in, moving fast. He stopped when he saw her, and he smiled. He was dressed like his sister, in tight jeans and T-shirt. Her eyes flicked down to where she could see his cock and balls out-lined against his fly. God, but he was hung. His tongue was nice, but it wasn't his prick.
"Hi," he exclaimed, leaning against the sink, his eyes roaming up and down her figure. "Did you get a good night's sleep?"
Misty flushed, but she tried to hide the truth. "Yes, why? That's a funny question."
Jerry laughed and then he reached for her, grasping her wrist and pulling her against him. As their crotches came together she felt his hardness. He was up, stiff, ready to go, she figured. Why not? She hadn't done anything the night before to relieve his need for sex.
"You're trying to tell me you don't remember last night?" he asked. "You really think I'm going to believe you were asleep?"
"Well, I did have some very real dreams," she replied, blushing more than ever. God, she was getting hot all over again. He was gently rubbing his crotch back and forth against her and she felt the stiff lump of cock thudding against her thighs.
"You bet your little twat you did," he laughed. He stared at her breasts. "You've got a pretty set of knockers, sis. Your nipples are as sweet as any I've ever tasted."
Misty stiffened. "Jerry. For heaven's sake!"
"You can knock off that little girl shit right now," he said. "You know what happened last night and so do I. You know you enjoyed it. I sure as hell did. But we didn't really finish, did we?"
She slowly shook her head as his hands came up to cup her face. Then his mouth came down on hers and he was kissing her hard, making the rockets in her head burst all over again, just as they had the night before. His mouth was open against hers and his tongue came out to lap at her lips. The tongue pushed hard until she opened her mouth.
Then it darted inside, swishing around as she caught her breath with surprise. "Jerry!" she blurted against his teeth.
"Shut up and drive," he said, his voice firm, but not unkind. He obviously Was sizzling, himself. "It's been a long time for me, sweet sister, too long. And it's high time you grew up."
Misty shut up, but she did not close her mouth. He wouldn't let her. His tongue lanced between her teeth, into her mouth. There it swished around, counting her teeth, moving from one side to the other. Tentatively, she touched it with the tip of her own tongue and the sensation was electric. God, she'd never realized her tongue was so sensitive.
They wrestled with one another for a few moments and, as she closed her eyes and allowed her tongue to move into his mouth, she lurched. His hands had let go of her shoulders and slid down the front of her T-shirt to fasten themselves on her breasts.
"Jerry!" she cried, breaking the kiss.
"You've got the best set I've ever seen," he muttered. "And I'm glad, you've grown up and thrown away your bra. Christ, but the outline of your nipples has been driving me out of my skull."
She gasped as his fingers closed over her mounds. He pressed into the flesh. A moment later he was jerking the T-shirt out of her jeans and pulling it up to her neck. Then they both looked down at her breasts. God, but they seemed so heavy, so laden with passion as they stiffened and stood up, awaiting his further attention. They didn't have to wait long.
His hands were on them again, the fingers sinking into the soft flesh and kneading it as though he were a baker massaging two large wads of bread dough. She closed her eyes as she sagged against the sink.
He caught her nipples between his fingers, pinching them enough to hurt her slightly but, much more important, the pinching turned on all the bells in her body. Her alarm system was going full blast, crying out, warning every fiber of her body that something important was going to happen.
Her eyes popped open as he leaned down to suck a nipple between his lips. She rested her hands on the top of his lowered head, her fingers twisting through his blond hair. He sucked in the nipple and nibbled on its oh-so-tender tip, just as he'd done in her bed the night before. He then sucked the other pink bud until it was as rigid as its twin.
As he sucked his hands went to her waist, pushing her back firmly against the edge of the sink, so that her body was bent backwards. Her crotch was thrust forward as the edge of the sink caught her in the middle of her ass. His fingers worked at the brass button of her jeans, getting it open. Then they heard the hiss of her zipper. All the while Jerry was sucking on her tits, driving Misty out of her mind.
"My God, Jerry you shouldn't...!"
He released her nipple and again his mouth covered her lips, silencing her with another deeply probing French kiss. She felt her body being bowed back over the sink as his hands grasped denim at her hips and jerked. Her jeans, tightly molded to her ripe body, yielded grudgingly, but down they came, over her hips and down to her thighs. He broke the kiss and stepped back, looking down into her crotch.
Misty looked, too, seeing her blond bush standing up straight. Already it was damp so that her golden hairs were shining with their fresh coating of musky oil. She looked into her brother's face.
"It's ready," he blurted. "How many times have you been fucked, little sister?"
She shook her head.
"Never? I don't believe it."
She nodded. "It's true. But you won't find a cherry in me. You see, I've used a candle the last several months. Anything to help me ... "
"To help you avoid doing it naturally," he snapped. "Christ, what a waste. Candles ought to be illegal."
He ripped at her jeans until they plunged to her knees. Then he shoved them to her ankles so that he was able to grasp a foot and free it from her pants altogether. At last her body was free, the T-shirt up around her neck and the jeans hanging to a single ankle.
He pointed at his fly. "All right, do me, and make it snappy. Don't play games, Misty. You want it and you know you're gonna get it. I want it, too. You didn't do one damn thing for me last night, you know."
She nodded as her hands went to his waist. She found the tab on his zipper and, although her fingers were nervous and sweating, she managed to jerk at the zipper until it came down. The hiss of the metal seemed to fill the kitchen as he surged forward. He wore nothing under his jeans and a mass of pubic hair came forward, followed by his cock. The large tool, glowing pinkly, was caught in his fly, bent over so that he winced in pain.
"Get the button, for Christ's sake," he ordered.
Misty opened the brass button and his fly surged open. Out charged his prick, poking at her like a lance. Her eyes bugged as she stared at its bulk, its great length. The thing was easily seven or eight inches long and a couple of inches thick. The head was even larger and it glowed a deeper pink. A drop of fluid was oozing from its single eye as she stared at the tip.
"It ... it's beautiful!" Misty exclaimed.
"You bet your sweet ass it's beautiful," he agreed. "Every pussy from Hong King to Naples has said the same thing. But it's been on ice for weeks. Let's see if it still works."
Misty gasped as he spread her knees. Then he was running his hands up her legs, to the insides of her thighs where her flesh was so white and so sensitive. She cried out and trembled as he came up to an inch from her pussy. He leaned against her so that she would not fall and, as he did so, his prick came up against her thigh. She felt its heat as though he were touching her with a branding iron.
He leaned his weight against her, his nose an inch from her face. "You're not afraid, are you?" he grunted, his face turning pink. Poor Jerry. He was so hot!
She shook her head violently. "No. Just show me how. Don't get angry with me."
He smiled for a second and then he was moving his hands against her snatch, leaning heavily against her ripe body so that again she was being bent back over the sink. Her hips jutted toward him and her pussy was in his hands like a box of jewels.
He ran his fingers through her damp bush, probing until he was between her lips. The rockets were bursting in her crotch again, exploding all the way up into her belly. She gasped and held her breath as he stuck a finger up into her hole. That was wonderful, but a finger wasn't the real thing.
"No, not your finger. I want it!" Misty cried.
He snorted his approval. "Good girl. You're gonna get it, right now!"
CHAPTER THREE
Misty was going crazy by now. His hands were all over her crotch and then he was whipping them behind her to dig into the cheeks of her ass. Her bottom was wiggling back and forth against the edge of the sink, as he kneaded her flesh until all of her resistance was gone.
Then he bent her far back, spread her knees and, as he held her, he pointed down at his prick. "All right, grab hold of it!"
"What?"
"You heard me. It won't bite."
Closing her eyes, Misty lunged for his prick. She didn't pause to think about it, she just went. She grasped it in both hands, as though it were a baseball bat and, indeed, it felt as large as a bat. She wrapped her fingers around it and tugged. Instinctively, she worked her hands up and down on the hot throbbing thing.
She felt its final swelling. It was so huge, so hot, and the veins that pumped force into it were throbbing with their own pulse under her fingers. She looked down at it, wondering if it were going to go off.
A moment later Jerry was shouting at her to let go and he slapped her hands away. "Easy, easy," he cried. "It's gonna explode!"
She dropped her hands as he came against her, sliding his steaming prick up the inside of her thigh and then into her pubic hair. She gasped as the knob hit the edge of her cunt and her lips seemed to swell and secrete even more. Then he was moving over her hole and she closed her eyes as he fitted the knob against her entrance.
"Hang on, sweetheart," he gasped as he leaned his weight against her. Misty hung on, all right, gripping the edge of the sink until her knuckles turned white. She made herself open her eyes because she didn't want to miss a thing.
His prick was pressing against her, pressing hard so that it bent slightly. Then he was working the knob in, his concentration so great that he'd tucked his tongue into the comer of his lips. He pressed again and she saw the knob disappear into her body. Oh, but that felt good. Her pussy was vibrating like a tuning fork, going wild, her nerve ends dancing for joy and her muscles reaching for him, expanding to welcome him and then groping over the surface of his cock.
She sighed as the end of his cock sank more deeply into her canal and her secretions made it easier. She was tight, but she was well lubricated so that it didn't hurt. He sank several inches of his shaft and she wondered how much she could take before he was pushing his way all the way up into her belly.
Her body was doing strange new things, things that excited and puzzled her. Around her crotch it was hot and wild, dancing for joy. Her hands and feet were numb, as though all of her blood, all of her strength were being concentrated around her cunt.
He shoved again, looking straight into her eyes now, and he half smiled as another three inches sank into her depths. She tried to smile back, but she was concentrating too hard. He shoved again and her knees went out all the way as his hips came up against hers. Their bellies were touching and she felt the gentle flap of his balls against her bottom.
She arched her back and tried to throw her crotch up to him, to do something to make their union more perfect, "There's a good girl," he muttered. "You have instincts, sis. You're gonna develop into the world's best fuck."
Misty began to pump, her hips angling up to meet his downward thrust. It didn't take long for her to peak and the first explosion ripped through her crotch. A band of white light flashed behind her eyes as she came. She felt the convulsion of her pussy muscles and nerves as they tried to turn her cunt inside out. She gasped and everything erupted in that white light for an instant. She saw everything in the room incredibly clearly, as though she had X-ray eyes.
It passed and she gasped. "I ... I think I made it," she blurted.
He only grunted. Then they were humping again and she felt his final swelling. His prick was throbbing, sizzling, threatening to split her body wide open. She knew he wouldn't hurt her and she was loving the sensation of being totally filled by a real five cock. How much better this was than a fucking candle!
Just as she approached another orgasm she heard him grunt. Then he stopped, stiffening as though shot with a dart. His cock swelled to an even larger size and then the knob vibrated for an instant before it erupted. The lava of jizz swept up into her pussy and splattered against the base of her belly. She felt the searing heat gush everywhere, filling her as she convulsed all over again.
Her body tried to turn itself inside out as her pussy convulsed again and again. She expended herself, pouring out her musky juices until there was nothing left. Jerry also was finished at last, giving her a final spurt and then sagging against her.
Misty panted for a couple of minutes before she caught her breath. The perspiration slowly dried on her body as she regained her senses. God, what a high. She'd never experienced anything like it.
He pulled himself off her, looking down into her face with a grin. "Hey, you did all right for a novice," he said. "I think we've got a good thing going."
Misty stared into his pale eyes, eyes which matched her own. "I don't think it was right, Jerry. Of course I loved it, but it wasn't ... "
"Who's to say what's right and what's wrong?" he snapped. "No one was hurt, were they? You had a good time. I had a good time. That's all the answer you need. So, you're no longer a virgin."
She sighed, letting her head rest against his chest. "That's for sure!" She thought about what they had done and about her passion. "It was scary. I thought I was going to turn inside out. Is it always that way?"
Her brother chuckled. "If you're lucky. We had it very good for a first time. Shit, good for any time. But it's not always so successful. Both people really have to hit it off."
She licked her lips, suddenly very dry. Then she pushed him away as she filled a glass with water and drank it. "I don't want to do any more hitting it off with my own brother," she said as she put down the glass. "No matter what you say, it seems sick to me."
Slowly, he pulled up his jeans, tucked in his now soft prick, and closed the zipper. He brushed the hair from his eyes. He pointed. "Get your clothes on, then, and well get it back together."
Slowly, Misty pulled down her T-shirt. She stepped into her jeans and pulled them up over her thighs and bottom They were very tight. He watched her and once he reached for her crotch, placing his hand on it.
"No, no more," she snapped, twisting away. She was telling him no, but she knew that she really wanted more. Her newly switched-on body was not going to settle for what it had received thus far. It was ready for a lot more fun before it would be satiated.
Jerry shrugged. "Okay, kid. If you need me, I'll be around." Then he walked into the front rooms until she could no longer hear him.
For the rest of the day Misty was quiet and thoughtful. She didn't go to the beach, as she usually did. Instead she put on her bikini and sunned herself in the back yard. She was still there when her mother came home.
Mrs. Sommer was almost a carbon copy of her daughter. She was a bit taller, still as blonde, with the same blue eyes. She had a stately walk that attracted lots of glances wherever she went.
Misty was proud of the way her mother took care of herself. She was an ancient thirty-nine years old, but she wasn't ready to be put out to pasture just yet.
"Don't ass yourself," her mother called from the edge of the patio as she squinted into the sunlight. "How long have you been out in the direct sun?"
Misty lifted her head, turning toward the voice. "Just a little while. Don't worry, I'm already as brown as a berry."
By the time her father got home from the office Misty was showered and had put on a light summer dress, a short, low-cut thing that didn't cover very much. As the family ate dinner in the dining room she saw her father looking at her. Mr. Sommer was a handsome man in his early forties. He was six feet tall, dark, heavy set, graying at the temples and, of course, he was the type of man who smoked a pipe.
Lately Misty had caught him looking at her more often and she'd begun to wonder what he was thinking. When she was younger his look meant that she was misbehaving and he was warning her or he simply was proud of his pretty little girl. But not there was something deeper in his eyes, as though he realized she'd turned into a woman before he'd known what was happening.
Mr. Sommer turned to Mrs. Sommer, his fork halted halfway to his plate. "Do you allow your daughter to run the streets half dressed these days?" he said, half scolding, half joshing.
Both parents swept their eyes over Misty's figure. She looked down, seeing that the top halves of her golden breasts were exposed. She knew that under the table her thighs were also half naked. And only she knew that she wore nothing at all under the dress. Why get all bound up in unnecessary underwear in the heat of summer?
Jerry sat at her side, and he was looking her over, too. She could see the appreciation in his eyes. His look did not escape their father.
"See? Even her own brother can't keep his eyes off her. Melba, you're going to have to do something about your daughter."
"Why is she my daughter when there's a problem?" his wife complained. "When she's an angel she's your little girl to show off. When something has to be fixed, she's my responsibility." Mrs. Sommers looked at her daughter again. "You'd better get some more clothes on if you're going out, Misty."
"Oh, Mom," Misty complained, feeling as though she were being treated like a child. "It's so hot. Besides, this dress is perfectly proper. You can't see a thing."
"Oh, no?" her father exclaimed. "Not from where I'm sitting, young lady."
There wasn't much more talk about Misty's attire as the subject was changed. Jerry hadn't been home long enough to finish the stories of his adventures and he told them about Hong Kong and the cultural adventures he'd enjoyed there. From time to time he nudged Misty by his side and she knew that he was leaving out the most interesting parts.
As they were eating dessert she felt his hand steal from his chair to hers to touch her thigh. She stiffened and quickly looked at her parents. They were eating slowly and he was telling her about the office. Something about the partners and their sloppy bookkeeping.
So they didn't notice as his hand slipped under the high hem of her dress and up her naked thigh. She held her breath as she looked directly into his face.
"It seems to me, dear brother," she said sweetly, "that you've had some experiences in the Orient that you haven't told Mom and Dad about. Or do you want me to tell them?"
She spoke quietly enough that the others did not notice, but Jerry noticed and he allowed his hand to halt its creeping. He blinked at her. "No, they've heard just about all of it," he insisted.
"Well see," she snapped. "You'd better think about it, or else I will." He grinned. "Blackmail."
"Something like that."
But things were happening inside Misty's body, exciting sexual things. She was very conscious of his fingers on her thigh and she knew there was nothing to keep him from going anywhere he pleased. She realized she would not have the will to stop him if he wanted to help himself to her goodies. Her bodily needs were much stronger than her conscience.
She made herself sit still and eat her pound cake slowly as his ringers came alive again. They wiggled up her thigh until they were at that place where her leg started, all the way up, but to one side. Then they angled down along the fold where her belly met her leg. Soon she felt her hairs being disturbed. She closed her eyes for a moment, as at last he placed his hand flat on her twat. He covered it as though he were covering a bird's nest.
Slowly, Misty let out her breath. She turned toward him. "You're awfully slow eating your dessert."
"I'm enjoying myself," he replied. "How about you? Have you had enough?"
Misty blinked. "Would it matter if I said I had?"
He shook his head slowly and, after another glance at their parents to make sure they were otherwise occupied at the large dining room table, his hand moved again. His fingers poked into her bush, separating the hairs and edging between her lips until she felt her flow start. She was making his hand wet as he shoved his way deeper into the heart of her body.
Misty felt her breathing change as her body heat increased. Her breasts moved up and down more rapidly and she felt them begin to expand, as they always did when she was excited. Her father glanced toward her, looked away, and then looked back in a classic double-take.
Misty smiled at him, not moving, not giving anything away. As for Jerry, he continued eating his dessert with his free hand, his face benign, as though nothing were going on. Her father's eyes dropped to her breasts and again she saw that look in his eyes. Yes, she realized now that he liked what he saw. She wondered if her body were capable of arousing him. Interesting thought.
Her mother said something more to her husband and he looked away, once again discussing the office. Jerry's hand went back to work, a finger poking inside her hole where it began to worm about. Misty blew out her cheeks and held her breath for several seconds as he groped about, looking for her little erect button.
He found it and made it sing for joy as his finger rubbed back and forth over its little knob. She'd always heard that the button was the female penis, but that seemed highly un- likely. After all, why would a woman need a penis? Still, it was the seat of her passion, just as she assumed a man's cock and balls were the heart of his sexual excitement.
Soon she was wiggling in her chair, until Mrs.
Sommer glanced up. "Misty, for heaven's sake, what's getting into you?"
God, if you only knew, Misty wanted to shout. Instead she made herself look bored as she shrugged. "Just an itch."
"Well, don't scratch at the table. It isn't polite."
Misty put down her fork and gripped the edges of her chair as hard as she could as her pussy began to come. She had to keep control of her body in public, or else she never could play around except in absolute privacy. So she held on hard and set her jaw, looking glassy-eyed across the table.
Through it all her pussy was leaping around like a sack of kittens. It was wrapping itself around his finger, and great surges of pressure and lovely cramps ripped through her crotch. Oh, that felt so good. She shook her bottom slightly as she came into his hand, but her face revealed nothing and she was able to keep from moaning.
He grinned into her face as he took his finger out of her. "You're growing up," he muttered.
She could only nod without looking at him, because she still was fighting for control. He took his hand away and pulled down the hem of her dress, halfway down her golden thighs. Then he placed his hands on his mouth, sniffing in a subtle way.
She glanced toward him from under long lashes. "Does it smell good?" she murmured, flicking her eyes once at her parents.
"An elixir fit for the gods," he purred, dropping his napkin on his plate. "I think I've had enough dinner for one night."
"You're excused, dear," their mother said as Jerry slid back his chair.
Misty finished her desert and also left the table. She half stumbled as she got up, her knees still feeling like jelly after her orgasm, but they didn't notice. Usually her parents enjoyed tarrying alone over coffee after the evening meal, and that was nice.
Jerry was out in the hall, presumably waiting for her. He leaned against the wall, looming over her, and she had to admit he was very handsome. But she shook her golden head. "No, no more of that stuff."
"I thought just a little...."
The telephone rang loudly, close by her elbow, and they both jumped. She picked it up.
"Hi, Misty? It's me, Sally. Missed you at the beach today."
Misty rolled her eyes at Jerry. "Um, I didn't get away from the house. My ... um, mother had some chores for me."
"What are you doing now?"
"Nothing."
"Suppose I come over and we shoot the breeze."
"Why not?" Misty said and she dropped the phone on the hook. She smiled sweetly up into her big brother's face. "I trust you heard all of that. Count yourself out for tonight, big boy."
He shrugged, walking away. He spoke over his shoulder. "I'll try to manage out on the town."
He was gone and, as Misty stood, she heard his car start up and then sputter into the distance. She was crossing the hall when her mother called. "Who was that, dear?"
"Just Sally. She's coming over."
"That's nice."
Misty went out on the front porch of the large, comfortable house, feeling her pussy still leaping around. She'd barely had time for an orgasm before he'd taken his hand away and, if she thought it out truthfully, she admitted that she wanted much more from him. But not at the dining room table. There would be hell to pay if their parents ever figured out what was going on.
She sat on the top step, leaning back on the heels of her hands, letting the cool evening air wash over her still warm body. God, she really did heat up. She wondered how much sex it would take to give her her fill. She certainly hadn't been satiated yet, even though this had been the sexiest day of, her life-and it wasn't over yet.
As she thought about it she saw Sally turn the comer and come down the street. Sally walked quickly, half skipping. Sally was a year older than Misty, almost, and she was dark with black hair and eyes. She also was several inches shorter, but she had a busty little figure that made her very sexy.
Sally turned up the walk and dropped down at Misty's side. "Hi," she said, her teeth white in the half light.
"Hi, yourself."
"Missed you at the cove today. There were lots of guys from State around, guys on the make, you know."
Misty never had been sure about Sally. She wasn't sure if the little brunette still had her cherry or not. Sally wasn't one to kiss and tell. She simply did not talk much. The two girls looked into each other's faces now.
"Something's eating you?" Sally murmured, looking back toward the house. "Are your folks home?"
Misty nodded. "Very much at home."
"Well, what's wrong?"
Misty sighed. "I don't want to talk about it. At least, not here."
"Then let's go somewhere. Down to the comer drugstore. I'll pop for a strawberry malt."
Misty wrinkled her nose. "No. That's childish. I guess we'll have as much privacy in my room as anywhere. My folks know it's off limits, unless they knock first."
Sally stood, wiping her hands on her jeaned thighs. "All right, lead on."
CHAPTER FOUR
Misty led the way into the house, where they paused so that Sally could lean into the dining room to greet her parents. They acknowledged her presence as they sat, sipping their coffee.
"We're going to my room to talk girl talk," Misty said pointedly, putting her parents on notice that they wanted their privacy respected.
As they went up the stairs Sally shook her head. "You sure got a good deal with your folks. I wish mine would leave me alone that way."
In the bedroom Misty turned and looked over her best friend. Sally was about five feet three, and her hair fell in glossy dark folds at either side of her face. Her eyes were a deep brown and they looked out from under black lashes. Her eyebrows also were a heavy black and, although Sally's surname was Jenner, Misty saw Italian blood in her somewhere.
Misty crawled up on her bed, propping a pillow behind herself and leaning against the wall. She threw a pillow at Sally and the brunette caught it. She tucked it behind her head as she sprawled across the foot of the large bed. She wore a tight T-shirt and even tighter jeans, so that her clothing seemed to have been painted on.
Misty could see the outline of her nipples and even the outline of her cunt lips. So, her friend wore nothing at all under her jeans, either. Neither of them wore any more clothing than was absolutely necessary. Misty was staring at her friend when Sally broke her concentration.
"Hey, what's going on? You're awfully quiet. You're looking at me as though you've never seen me before."
Misty smiled. "I'm sorry. I ... I had sort of a busy day."
"Oh? What happened?"
Misty decided to let it all hang out. "I lost my cherry."
Sally jumped, the bed shaking, and her eyes grew wide. "So, you've finally done it. Welcome to the club. I think that's wonderful."
Misty licked her lips. "You've lost yours?"
"Hell, a couple of years ago."
Misty shook her head slowly. "God, I never knew what it was gonna be like."
"Nobody does," Sally said, reaching for Misty's now bare foot and touching it. She rested her fingers on her ankle. They both had shed their shoes before sprawling on the bed. "Who was the lucky man?"
Misty shook her head slowly from side to side. "I don't think I can tell you."
"Do I know him?"
She nodded. "Very well. Someday I'll tell you, and then you'll know why I can't now. Not until I've had a lot more experience."
Sally was thoughtful for a few moments. "There are lots of kinds of things you can get into, now that you've gotten your feet wet."
Misty smiled. "like what?"
Sally rolled over, got up on her hands and knees, and she crawled up next to Misty, grinning broadly. She looked down at the bare thighs. "Girl to girl. You dig?"
Misty stared, her mouth open. She'd heard of such things, and the idea never had repelled her, because girls were so much more gentle than boys, but she never had dreamed that Sally....
The brunette plopped on her stomach and inched up until she was up on her elbows, next to Misty's head. The two girls locked eyes for a long minute, before Sally's face came down. Misty couldn't believe it was happening, even as it was indeed happening.
Lips came down to meet hers. They were soft, full lips, feminine lips. Sally was such a sweet voluptuous thing, so totally all-girl. As they kissed Misty got worried and she broke the kiss, turning her head away.
"This is sick. I never thought you were this sort of person."
Sally grasped her chin, pulling her head around so that their eyes locked again. "Not so naive, my no-longer-a-virgin friend. It doesn't matter what people do, so long as they both enjoy it and so long as they're discreet."
Misty sighed. "That's what my brother told me."
She stiffened as Sally let out a yelp of joy. "Aha! So it was Jerry. I suspected as much. I figured when he got a look at you after being gone three years he'd realize you'd turned into the most desirable thing in town. So, that's really groovy. How neat to have your own brother teach you. It's perfect, you know, because you can make your mistakes with him and be perfect when you're out in the mainstream."
Misty made a face. "It's all sort of sick."
"This isn't sick," Sally insisted as she again lowered her face over Misty's. The two women kissed, a long and lingering kiss in which Sally sucked deeply on Misty's juices, her tongue darting into her mouth and inviting Misty's tongue to do the same.
Misty tried to fight it, but it was a wonderful sensation as their tongues played with one another like puppies. Soon she had her tongue in the dark girl's mouth and she was enjoying every minute of it. They broke their kiss and Misty protested when Sally began to reach inside the scoop neck of her dress.
"Hey, kissing is one thing, but we can't go all the way down each other's bodies."
Sally shrugged, her breasts bobbing tightly as she leaned over Misty's body. "Why not? You still don't get it, do you? Whatever we do is our business. If you don't like it when we're finished, well ... I'll never bother you again."
Misty merely blinked as a gentle soft hand reached inside her summer dress. The hand plucked out a breast, which was placed over the top of her bodice. Then the other breast was brought out for inspection.
"You have wonderful knockers," Sally purred. "Every girl in high school hated you for having such fine jugs, you know."
Misty flushed. "Yours are just as good."
The hair swirled darkly as Sally denied it. "No, yours are superior."
Misty was forced to do the right thing. She reached up, pulling Sally's T-shirt up to her chin so that she could inspect her naked breasts. The mounds were heavy and high with nipples that were darker than Misty's. They were, if anything, larger than Misty's, despite the fact that Sally was a smaller woman. Her entire body was more stocky, more heavily built, not willowy as was Misty's.
Misty ran her thumbs over the nipples and, as she did, the dark girl shuddered. Her eyes rolled and she leaned her hands into Misty's breasts. Together the women massaged each others mounds, their soft moans of pleasure filling the room which Misty had been careful to lock as they came in. They writhed on the bed, lying at one another's side, their hands busy. Finally Sally felt a hand on her knee.
"No," she snapped, stiffening. "That's too much."
"In a pig's ass," Sally snapped right back. "Look, I'm getting sick of your fake prude act. You made it with your brother. You can damned well make it with me. After all, what are friends for?"
Misty had no answer to that and so the hand on the knee crept up her thigh. It went all the way up to her crotch in a few seconds and then it was lifting her skirt all around, up to her waist. God! Misty thought, suddenly panicked. Her body was totally exposed to Sally's gaze.
She lurched away, rolling over on her belly. She lay flat as her dress was lifted over her bottom. "Christ, what an ass," Sally whispered. "You have magnificent cheeks. I've wanted to eat it for a year now."
Misty felt a kiss on her bottom and she jumped, her tender flesh jumping with. her. She felt another kiss, and another, until her ass was being peppered with kisses. Then lips were burrowing into the crack of her bottom, and a tongue was at work, rasping like a cat's tongue.
"Oh, no more of that!" Misty wailed as she again pulled away. She rolled to her side, facing Sally, who was flat on her belly. She looked at the profile of the brunette's back and bottom It was very, very good, and so she touched the ass. "You're nicely curved yourself, you know?"
Surprisingly, Sally flushed. "Not many people say nice things about my body. I'm too short."
"A pretty compact package, that's you," Misty said right back. "You have a lovely figure."
"Show me, don't tell me," Sally pleaded.
So Misty showed her best friend. She ran her fingers into the crack of her bottom and, as she did so, Sally showed her appreciation by slipping her hand over the blonde crotch, cupping it as though she were picking up a furry tame mouse. Misty lurched, gasping in surprise and delight.
Her eyes turned glassy as she stared at the ceiling. The next thing she knew her dark friend was crawling over on top of her body and spreading her legs. She was doing what Jerry had done that morning while they were standing in the kitchen. Bui:-my God-she thought, Sally was a girl. She didn't have a prick. What could she do between Misty's leers?
Sally quickly demonstrated what she could do.
She forced Misty's knees wide and smiled straight down at her golden pussy. "God, what a jewel box you've got. The men of this world are going to be entertained for the next forty years."
Misty did not reply. She was speechless as Sally settled herself down on the wide open crotch. Misty felt the stiff curly hairs of the black pelt scratch against the lips of her cunt. Sally's pussy was a slash of darkness, a pelt of beaver-black hair that looked terribly virile. Sally wormed the pelt hard against Misty's crotch, almost as though she were trying to fuck her. Then Misty stiffened. Good God! Sally was trying to fuck her!
She felt something, something very small but very hard. It must have been Sally's little erect button, that penis-like thing Misty had been wondering about earlier that day. Now she was discovering how it could be used to the ultimate. But it was very difficult as Sally smashed her body against Misty's trying desperately to make her little knot of muscle do the job of a real cock.
Something was working, because Misty felt her juices start to flow. The massage on her cunt lips was effective. She felt them puff up and her body began to secrete. Sally felt it, too, and she called out.
"Good girl. Now wrap your legs around my waist, those beautiful long fucking legs I envy so much. Wrap them tightly and then lock your heels over the small of my back. Turn your body into a vise and screw on the pressure-all the way!"
Misty tried to do as she was told. She stretched her legs on either side of the shoving body, the body that writhed against her crotch. She bent her knees and her feet collided somewhere above them both. She locked her ankles tightly and drew down. It was like tightening a vise, all right, and she felt their pussies mash together.
"Oh, wonderful, fucking wonderful!" Sally cried, so loudly that, for an instant, Misty feared her parents might hear. But there was no sound from outside the room. Thank heavens for old-fashioned houses with thick floors and walls.
The women wormed their crotches together and the result was inevitable. Soon they began their twin orgasms, milking one another's bodies of the female juices. The musky odor filled the room as they jerked together, rasping their bushes back and forth, all the time locked firmly in place by Misty's strong legs.
Misty felt her convulsions start, the spasms rocking her belly and making her muscles jump for joy. Her nerves were singing a siren song as she gushed forth, her milk pouring into their matted hair. She felt the other's milk meeting hers as Sally, with a thin wail of pleasure, also came. They struggled as their bodies remained locked until their spasms at last stopped.
Then they lay quietly, perspiration making them shine. Their clothes were a mess, Sally's ripped-open jeans stained darkly and Misty's pretty summer dress wrinkled. Misty knew she'd have to hide it, wash it and iron it when her mother was out of the house.
The girls rolled apart, each on her back, their wide eyes staring at the ceiling. As they lay Misty felt for Sally's body, working her hand over the soggy jeans and into the damp dark thatch between her legs. She idly pressed her finger into the hole, swishing about until she found the button. She worked her finger against it as Sally stirred.
"Hey, no fair. That feels disgustingly good."
Misty giggled. "That's the whole idea. I wanted to feel for myself that wonderful clitoris you have. God, you're a total person, almost as male as female."
Sally sighed, still staring at the ceiling. "You don't think that's weird, do you? I mean, I'm built like a woman, but I know how to use my body in AC-DC fashion. It's technique, nothing biological, if you get my meaning."
"I get your meaning and I think it's terrific," Misty purred, as she pulled her finger from the still dripping cunt. "I'm learning from experts today."
They lay still for a half-hour or so, until their clothes were dry enough for Sally to get up and straighten her jeans and T-shirt. Misty removed her ruined dress and stood at the door, naked. She unlocked it and said, "You don't mind letting yourself out, do you? If I come down in other clothes, they might wonder."
Sally stood before her best friend and she leaned forward, kissing her on the lips. She pulled the naked body against her briefly and Misty loved the feeling of their breasts being squeezed together.
"I'll do anything you say from now on, sweetheart," the dark woman said. "I'm your slave."
"Just be my friend," Misty asked.
"Sure, that, too." Then the dark woman was gone, slipping into the corridor to make her way out of the house without being inspected too closely by Mr. and Mrs. Sommer.
Misty, still naked, threw herself across her bed, her body still tingling and her head still whirling. She knew she wasn't finished yet, that she wanted more sexual experiences, a whole lot more.
She lay on her belly, her breasts flattened against the bedding, and she thought deep thoughts. How important was sex going to be in her life? Would she ever reach the point-where she would get enough? She knew it was a myth that people lost their desire for sex. The fact was that some people got their kicks out of sex-one way or another-all of their lives.
But Misty couldn't seem to get enough of that wonderful stuff, even though she'd been at it all day. Her first day of non-virginity had been a corker and she felt she'd have to slow down, take it easy, make things go more slowly for a while.
She eventually crawled under the covers, leaving her body naked. She fell asleep almost at once and, if she dreamed at all, they were pleasant dreams. She wasn't satiated, but she'd gone a long way toward bringing relaxation to her frustrated female body....
Misty awoke to another sunny morning in California and, as she lay in bed, she could hear her mother moving about the house. Before long there was a tapping at her door and then it opened slowly. Her mother stuck her head into the room.
"Well, sleepyhead, are you going to stay in bed all day?"
Her mother was dressed in one of her downtown-with-the-girls outfits and, briefly, Misty wondered if her downtown companions were only other women. She smiled as she kept the covers up to her chin, because her mother thought it was sinful to sleep naked.
"I'm on my way. Your father's gone and Jerry's down at some garage working on his car. I declare, that boy should hire out as a mechanic."
Misty blinked. "There's nobody home?"
"Just you and me, and I'm on my way. I'll see you about three or four. There's food in the refrigerator. Eat up the cake, if you can. It's just getting old."
Misty nodded from her pillow. "Have a nice day. Don't worry, I'll take care of things."
Mrs. Sommer hesitated, looking worried. "Misty ... V
"What?"
"Do you think Jerry is different?"
"Sure. He's three years older. He's a man, mother. Your little boy is grown up."
Mrs. Sommer smiled as she came across the room and leaned over the bed, kissing her daughter on the lips. "So is my little girl. Just think, this fall you'll both be in college. You make me feel old."
"You don't look old," Misty said, and she meant it. "God, I hope I look like you at forty."
"Thirty-nine, dear," her mother said as she slipped out of the room. "Remember, let's not rush things. It's thirty-nine, until further notice."
Then she was gone, with Misty staring after her. What did her mother do out all day almost every day? Misty knew she occasionally met her father for lunch, but she still had a great deal of free time. Misty sighed as she heard the car pull out of the drive.
Then she threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom. She was coming out, her mouth tingling from fresh toothpaste, when the telephone rang. She pranced out into the hall and snatched it up.
"Hi, it's me again." It was Sally, sounding somewhat tentative. "Are we still friends?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't we be?"
"I was afraid you might have had second thoughts after I left last night." There was a pause and then Sally was saying, "Yes, he's a groovy boy, but I won't go out with him."
"What?" Misty cried, wrinkling her nose. "You're not making sense."
"My mother just went by," Sally said in a loud whisper. "Look, I'm coming over to see you."
"Uh, that's swell, Sally, but I don't think we'd better get into any more of that sort of thing. At least, not as a steady diet. You know we could turn into lesbians, or something."
"Oh, bosh," There was a moment of silence. "But I want to talk to you about how we can fix that, all right?"
They hung up and Misty pulled on an old shirt that had once belonged to her brother. She also wiggled into a pair of green shorts. She slipped her feet into sandals and then she brushed her hair in the mirror. She smiled at herself, seeing that, even without her virginity, she didn't look any different. She looked better, in fact.
She went downstairs and ate a little cold cereal and drank a glass of milk. She was at the kitchen table when Sally tapped at the back door. She let her brunette friend in, they kissed briefly, and then they sat down at the table. Sally accepted a bowl of cereal. When they were finished, the dark girl folded her hands and looked seriously at her friend.
Misty smiled, tilting her head in a winsome way she had. "All right, what's the mystery?"
"You were right on the telephone. It isn't a good thing for you to play around with your brother and your best girlfriend. You've got to get some good, solid, healthy, outside relationships going. Who do you know?"
Misty shrugged. "The guys at the beach."
"Good idea. Let's get our asses over there and see if anybody wants to get laid."
Misty sighed. "God, such talk."
"Well, we've got to find you somebody in a hurry, some nice, healthy, friendly boy who wouldn't be a threat. You've got to learn with someone you can trust, someone who isn't your own brother."
Just then the telephone rang.
CHAPTER FIVE
The two girls looked at one another and it was Sally who said: "I have a feeling that ring is our answer. Don't ask me why I feel that way, but J do. Quick, answer it."
Misty leaped up and plucked the phone off its kitchen wall holder. "Hello?"
"Hi, this is Carl, from next door?"
Misty pressed her lips together as she rolled her eyes at Sally. "Hello, Carl. What is it? What do you need?"
"Uh, my mother needs three eggs and she's all out. She wants to know if she can borrow some."
"Sure, we've got a refrigerator full of hen fruit. Does she want to come over and get them right now?" Misty again made a face. "I'm about to go to the beach with Sally."
"I'll come right away. I wouldn't want to hold you up, Misty."
Misty hung up. Carl Henderson was the boy next door, about Misty's age, in her high school class, also about to start at the local college. He was a very tall, gawky boy, still an adolescent, really, a string bean who looked as though he might break in half if he were punched in the stomach.
Misty shrugged as she came to the table. "Carl's coming over for some eggs. We'll get rid of him and be on our way."
Sally, still seated at the table, waved Misty back into her seat. "Wait a minute. Carl Henderson. All right, there's a challenge for you. You can't just be on the receiving end all the time, you know. You've got to give. You've got to learn how to do some seducing yourself. What better people to learn on than people like Carl Henderson?"
Misty stared. "Carl. My God, he's nothing but skin and bones. Six feet two inches of ninety-seven-pound weakling, if you know what I mean."
Sally pointed her finger at Misty's chin. "I know this much: You've got to learn to take on all kinds of boys. Sure, one of the beach studs would scoop you into the sack in a hurry, but what would you learn? He'd biff bam thank-you-ma'am you and it would be all over. You've got to learn how to make a man want to make out with you. You've got to learn to be a subtle seductress, to make him think he's taking the initiative. It's called old-fashioned flirting."
Misty licked her lips. "But he's not even handsome. I don't know if I want him around."
"Handsome has nothing to do with it," Sally snapped back. "He's a man and that means he's got a cock, a cock you've never seen. You've got to get a look at him. He could open up a whole new bag of toys for you, sexual toys. What do you say, do we do a number on good old Carl Henderson?"
Misty shook her head. "Suppose he gets scared and runs? Besides, he might even tell his mother."
Sally made a face. "There are all kinds of answers to that argument. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Better to have loved and lost...." Sally giggled. "Besides, if you seduce him, even Carl Henderson isn't going to be stupid enough to spill his guts. He'll be in as big trouble as you and me. In fact, it would be our words against his."
They didn't have any more time to figure it out because Carl was tapping at the back door. Sally let him in and he stopped short when he saw her. "Oh, hi, Sally," Carl said.
The women stared at him, their eyes beady and shining. He was very tall, thin, wearing a shirt and pants that hung on his scarecrow-like form. He carried a small glass bowl for the eggs.
"Hi, Carl," Sally said, licking her lips like a tiger about to make a kill. "How's your life since high school graduation?"
He shrugged. "Can't complain."
Misty cleared her throat. "Um, sit down and have a Tab. We've got plenty and it's gonna be a hot day."
He sat uncomfortably at the kitchen table, a painfully shy boy who, so far as Misty and Sally knew, never had dated in high school. Misty got a can of soft drink from the refrigerator and she asked him if he wanted a glass. He shook his head as he opened the can.
The women sat down with him, their eyes running over his body. "So, how's it been going?" Misty asked and they chatted for several minutes while she wondered how to make her approach. They talked about a lot of things before Sally cleared her throat.
"Is your mother waiting for you?" she asked.
"Well, she does want her eggs."
"Run over with them and come on back." She gave Misty a sidelong glance. "We'll think of something fun to do."
He got up and left them, showing neither reluctance nor enthusiasm about coming back. He left without saying what he would do.
The women looked at each other. Misty shrugged, "Well, did we blow it?"
"No, he'll come back," Sally said briskly. "But you've got to get the lead out. Look, he's your baby, your target for the day. Play up to him, flatter him, break him down and then make your move. You're gonna have to hit this guy on the head with an anvil to make him realize you're interested. You dig?"
Misty nodded and, a few minutes later, the door opened and Carl had rejoined them. They took their soft drinks into the large family room where there were many things: a pool table, a dart board, television, game table, lots of deep leather-like furniture.
Misty urged Carl to sit and they sat down on either side of him, turning on the color television with a hand operator. Misty tuned it until they were watching an old movie with the sound turned low. She turned and looked into Carl's left ear.
"I haven't seen much of you since June," she purred. He looked at her and so she batted her lashes.
He stared at her and then he looked at Sally, his eyes growing narrow. "What's going on here?"
Misty stared. "What?"
"You heard me. You two broads are cooking up something that's funny." He turned to look at Sally, who also batted her eyes in all innocence. "What's really happening?"
"Why should anything be going on?" Misty countered. "We're just school friends, that's all.
Can't we sit down and visit without something going on?"
"You never asked me in like this before," Carl said. "At least not this way, sort of deliberate, if you get my drift."
The two women stared and it was Sally who leaned forward to speak around Carl. "Misty, my love, I think you'd better pull on your line before your fish gets off the hook. He's a smarter old bass than we gave him credit for."
Misty nodded, swallowing. She ran her eyes up and down Carl's body and then, not knowing what else to do, she suddenly threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. She felt and heard his gasp of surprise against her lips, but she held on all the more tightly. As they kissed she wormed her breast against his upper arm, knowing that he could feel the softness of her mound and the hard little knot of her nipple.
"When she released him his face had turned white. So had Sally, who'd gotten up and moved across to a facing leather chair so she could see the action better. She looked like an excited fan watching a football game, her eyes darting from one face to the other, her tongue tucked in the comer of her mouth.
Misty flushed furiously, feeling like a fool, but praying that she hadn't blown it. Carl gasped like a hooked fish, his lips moving in silence for a moment. Then he was able to blurt, "What was that all about?"
Misty smiled. "That's the reason you're here, Carl. Frankly, I'm hot and I'm hot for you. Are you a man or aren't you? I'm gambling that you are. If you're not, you can run home to mama right now. It's up to you."
He stared again, his eyes wide and unblinking. "You're out of your gourd."
"No, I told you, I'm hot. That's not unnatural. You're a man." She looked down at herself, striking a pose for him in her short shorts. "Tell me, don't I have nice legs?" She sprang to her feet and stood before him as he stared up from the couch, his eyed wide. She thrust one knee before the other, like a fashion model.
He shook his head. "I still don't get it."
Misty, throwing caution to the wind, knew she had to make him or have him run away and ruin her, if he told others what she'd tried to do. She had to succeed or be destroyed. She beckoned to him. "Come on, stand up here and I'll see that you do get it."
Carl looked across at Sally, who was sitting in a leather chair, her hands in her lap. Misty looked down at her. She seemed to be doing something to herself. Misty didn't care. She had her work cut out for herself.
"Do you know what's going on here?" Carl asked Sally.
"Just do as she asks," Sally snapped. "What's wrong? She's your friend and neighbor. Give her a break this one time. On your fucking feet."
Carl lumbered to his feet, looking down into Misty's face. He waited as she sized him up, nibbling her lips. She glanced back one more time at Sally and then she threw her arms around his neck. She again kissed him on the mouth and, as she did so, she pressed her body against his. She wormed her hips against his crotch and her breasts were flattened against his thin chest.
Misty was hot and eager now. It was no longer simply an experiment. She wanted a good screwing and she wasn't going to let Carl out of the house before he gave it to her. She bit him hard on the mouth until he pulled his head back.
"Hey, that hurts."
"Tough shit," she snapped. As she wiggled her hips back and forth she felt his prick spring into the alert position. He was up and ready, fully engaged, as it were. She felt the bone press against one thigh, then across her pussy, then against her other thigh. It felt very good and she felt herself more excited as he began to push back against her.
Carl was getting red in the face now as Misty began to peck at his neck. Then she was down opening the buttons of his shirt with her teeth. She was kissing him on the chest, where he didn't have a single strand of hair. She pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened it all the way. Again her head came down and she was kissing his nipples. She was overjoyed when she heard his gasps of pleasure.
"Hot damn," he breathed.
She giggled as she looked up at him. "So, the ice man is able to cometh, after all."
"I don't know about that."
"I do," Misty exclaimed and she began to work at his belt. She got it open and then she slid the zipper. His jeans were sagging as she went for his hips and hauled mightily. His pants came down to his knees and his shorts came with them. Both women immediately looked at his prick, which was standing out from his body like a horizontal flagpole. It was long, thin and very straight. It didn't look as though it ever had been used.
Mist grinned back at Sally. "Hey, do you see what I see?"
"How could I miss it?" Sally replied. "It's the size of the Queen Mary."
Again Misty giggled and then she was jerking his pants all the way down and off. She then ripped the shirt "from his body. She also jerked off his tennis shoes so that, at last, Carl Henderson, friend and shy neighbor, was totally naked before her. Now she knew that he could not betray her because he was beyond the point of no return. She stood back, hands on her hips, looking at him.
"You're hot, stud," she rasped. "Why don't you do something about it? Don't my shorts make you excited?"
He cleared his throat. "Well, I...." He paused and then he reached for her. Misty almost went through the ceiling when he pulled her against himself and dropped a hand right down between her legs. He closed his fingers over the crotch of her shorts, catching her purse fully and giving it a painfully enjoyable squeeze.
"Ouch!" Misty cried, but she wasn't really hurt, she wasn't complaining, and she sure as hell wasn't going to pull away from this string bean of a man.
She clasped her hands behind her back and stood before him, her feet together, her chin high. She smirked up into his face. "I'm a statue. Make me come to life-if you know how."
"You bet I know how," he rasped as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She thought he was going to kiss her on the mouth, but instead he shoved his face down into the V neck of her shirt, just as she had done to him. God, she thought, make him do the other things I did.
God was on Misty's side. He began to unbutton her shirt as she remained like a sizzling statue. He spread the shirt and her breasts popped into view, bobbing and then still, great golden globes with cherry tips. They looked ripe to the very day when they should have been picked. She looked down at them and then up into his face, inviting him, daring him, challenging him to do his damnedest.
Carl carefully placed his hand under a breast, lifting it as though weighing a grapefruit. He pursed his lips, as though confirming that Misty's fruit indeed was ripe and that it should be delicious eating. He ran his thumb up over her nipple, sending a small spasm of pleasure ripping all the way down into her crotch, which palpitated.
"Oh ... my...." Misty breathed, turning back to look at Sally. She was amazed to see that the brunette was removing her clothing. Her shirt was coming over her head, her shoes were dropping into the carpet and she was doing a shimmy in the chair as her pants slipped down over her thighs. Already her black crotch was swimming into view.
Misty, as it happened, was the last person in the room who wore any clothing. She looked down as his thumb touched her other nipple and again she shuddered, feeling as though she was being kicked in the belly-although those kicks felt very good.
Then Carl was removing her shirt, pulling off her sandals, and then was opening her fly. He slid the zipper at her hip and then he opened the button. The green shorts peeled away from her hip, revealing nothing underneath but white skin where her body rarely was seen by the sun. He pursed his lips.
"I don't know why we didn't play more games together when we were kids," he breathed.
"Because you were so God-damned shy," Misty snapped right back. "Hell, I played lots of doctor and nurse, but you never wanted to come around my hospital."
He grinned. "I'm feeling fine now, but I'd like to visit your hospital."
"You're giving me a pretty good anatomy lesson right now," Misty countered. "Please don't give it up before you've done a thorough job."
He didn't He pulled her shorts down to her knees and she was delighted at his gasp of pleasure. "Christ, a golden box," he breathed. He looked across at Sally. "Don't get me wrong, I like black boxes, too, but this color is a bit more rare. You have the most beautiful cunt I've ever seen."
Misty felt like a child as she flushed. "Thank you very much," she murmured, her eyes averted.
He got her shorts all the way off, tossed them aside and, at last, all three of them were naked. Misty and Carl looked at Sally, who still sat by herself in all her nude loveliness, in the leather chair. "Don't you want to play?" Misty said to her best friend.
Sally shook her head. "Not yet. You two go ahead. Enjoy."
They enjoyed a great deal. Carl ran his hands down her body to her box and there he was seized with a trembling. He looked at her, his eyes bugging. "God, I'm new at this. I don't know what to do."
She was very aware of his trembling fingers. "You're doing all right. Keep it up."
Carl's fingers curled around Misty's hips and he cupped her ass in both hands. He pressed hard into the firm cheeks of her bottom, lifting her up on her toes. She closed her eyes with the glory of the wonderful feeling. It was so good, so right to have a man digging his fingers into her ass.
As he lifted her she reached for him, finding his prick and wrapping her hands around it. She pulled and he came forward with a groan. She saw the eyes roll up into the top of his head as a look of ecstasy crossed his face. She smiled as his hands dropped to his sides.
Misty also dropped-to her knees. She wrapped her arms around his hips and then, working very carefully, she kissed him on the tip of his cock. "Jesus!" he cried, his call filling the room.
She kissed his prick again and, as she did so, she slipped a hand between his legs, raising it until she was cupping his balls. She squeezed his hot sack gently, feeling for the marbles inside.
She rolled them about as he continued to groan. Then she was grasping his hips again and opening her mouth over his prick.
She jerked on his hips and an inch of cock slid between her lips. She jerked at him again, accepting another inch. He placed his hands on her golden head to steady himself as she opened wider and took inch after inch. She loved the feel of the slippery cock coming into her mouth. It had a slightly salty, somewhat musky taste and she was able to allow it to fill her mouth as she breathed through her nose.
Soon he had a full six inches of his long straight cock stuck in her and she looked up at his face, which was turning pink as his passion rose. She sucked hard on his cock, pulling him close until she had it all and his balls were flapping at her chin. She felt his final surge. He was ready to go off. There was no doubt about that.
She sucked in her cheeks as she worked her head back and forth in a series of rapid movements. He responded at once, hissing, swelling, and finally exploding straight into her throat. She caught the first blast of hot come deeply in the back of her mouth and, opening her throat with a skill a veteran blower would admire, she allowed all of it to slip down into her belly without difficulty.
He lurched against her again and again, spending himself, giving her his best shots. He kept coming until he at last began to slow and finally there was nothing more than a dribble. He began to sag everywhere, falling back as she opened her mouth and let go of his hips.
He sprawled across the couch, his body damp, his thin chest heaving. He stared at her and then at Sally, who was still working at her own crotch. Misty wondered if she were getting her rocks off.
Carl shook his head, still not believing. "It's amazing. The beautiful girl next door, and she winds up sucking my cock. I never would have dreamed."
Misty flushed. Was he complimenting her or calling her a slut? She didn't know as she got up and excused herself. She ran into the downstairs bathroom and rinsed her mouth at the sink. After she gargled with something strong, she wiped her body with a damp cloth. Then she returned to the family room, where the others remained as she had left them. They looked almost funny, so startlingly nude and vulnerable, now self-conscious as they tried to hide themselves from one another.
Misty returned to the couch, sitting down close by Carl's side. She placed her fingers on his knee, looking up into his face. She smiled. "You're enjoying yourself?"
He nodded. "I'm surprised, but happy. I never even dreamed...."
"Stop saying that," Misty snapped. "You've made your point. Now we have to decide what we're going to do next. I think it's time Sally joined the party. There's plenty of fun for all."
CHAPTER SIX
Sally got up, stretching before them. Her breasts were full and her pussy already was shining, even though she had not yet taken part in any of their sex. It was obvious that her body was primed, ready to go, and Carl got to his feet, going to her. He placed a hand on her breast.
"You're hot," he muttered.
She nodded.
As Misty watched, getting hotter just from being a close observer, Carl leaned down and kissed her nipples, his mouth moving from one to the other. He moved back and forth for a couple of minutes, sucking her nipples into his mouth until they stood out like golf tees. Then he was dropping to his knees before her, and wrapping his arms around her hips, much as Misty had done to him.
His hands came together across her ass and she saw his fingers disappear into her crack. Sally gasped as his fingers slid down between her legs and reappeared inside her thighs, right under his nose. He pulled her crotch straight into his face and Misty saw his tongue come out to meet the looming pussy.
The large black beaver was dripping by now, the glossy black hairs shining and soggy. There was a mushy sound when he buried his face in it and then Misty could hear the slurping. He sucked hard on her pussy, working like a pro, and Misty wondered if he really were as innocent as they had believed.
God, maybe old Carl had been doing this sort of thing for months. There was no way of knowing where he'd been spending his nights, and with whom. She smiled as her hands slipped down between her legs. She was enjoying the show very much and she could tell her passion was continuing to rise. After all, she hadn't really gotten her rocks off yet and the view of the two friends going at one another was making her blood boil.
Carl was slurping hard at the black pussy now, the juicy sounds filling the room. As he worked, Sally's knees were wobbling, and Misty saw her friend start to fall. She leaped to her feet and rushed across the room. She got behind Sally, wrapping her arms around her waist to hold her erect. She slid her hands up the front of her body until she was cupping the short girl's heavy breasts, which were so hot they actually warmed Misty's hands.
Misty looked down over Sally's shoulder so that she could see the top of Carl's head as he rammed his face into the spread pussy. His pink tongue was out like a lance, doing its job, probing into the depths of Sally's snatch. Then Sally gasped and shook from head to toe, as though her finger had been jammed into an open wall socket.
"I'm ... I'm ... coming!" she gasped.
"So come already," Misty purred in her ear, her lips fluttering against her dark hair.
Sally quivered as spasms ripped through her body. Misty could see it all as her muscles jumped and knotted, making Sally writhe from head to toe. She shook like a rag doll as her female milk gushed forth, straight into Carl's open face. He took it all without flinching, his eyes wide open, rolling up as he watched her belly button heave in and out.
Gradually, Sally spent herself, and then she was falling back against Misty, who supported her as she staggered into her chair. The brunette sprawled, gasping for breath as her body glistened with sweat. She took several minutes to get control of herself and, as she did, Carl dashed into the nearby bathroom to clean up.
He came back in a few minutes, his mouth rinsed and his face washed clean.
The three friends stared at one another and then they broke into laughter, their voices rising almost wildly for a few minutes. Then they quieted again. Misty stood in the middle of the room, her feet spread, her hands on her hips, looking almost like an Amazon taking charge.
"Well, that was all fucking right," she exclaimed. "Carl, I want you to know you're welcome to come into this house whenever you like-hopefully when there's nobody home but me."
"And me," Sally added. "Don't forget about me."
"Whatever," Misty said with a shrug. "But, while you guys have been getting your rocks off, I haven't had one bit of fun. What about me? When do I get some satisfaction?"
Carl grasped her shoulders, kissing her hard on the mouth. Then he dropped his hand to her cunt and she tingled as his fingers wormed among her hairs. "All right, let's do this one straight. A good, solid fucking, with no screwing around. You're gonna get your satisfaction, neighbor."
He led her to the couch, pushing her down on her back. Then he knelt over the edge of the couch, kissing her on the belly button and slipping his nose and mouth down into her cunt hairs. He kissed her there, his tongue lapping. As he did so her knees fell apart naturally in order to give him plenty of room. When Misty was panting all over again, he heaved himself on top of her.
Misty grunted as his weight came down on her and his prick, out like a lance, was stabbing across her belly. Her body opened completely to him, and his knob wormed among her hairs, found her hole, and then poked inside. She gasped at his size, for he seemed larger than before. It felt good as his knob slid between her gates and up the walls of her slick canal, all the way to the base of her cunt.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles together, as Sally had taught her to do. Then she pulled hard and his prick slid even more deeply into her body. She opened her eyes to see Sally leaning over them, a look of anticipation in her eyes.
Misty smiled up into her face. "Sure, you're welcome to join in-if you can find a place."
Sally was able to find a place, all right. She leaned over Misty's face so that the blond could catch a breast in her mouth. She sucked on a dark nipple as her hands roamed over to find Sally's cunt and stroke it. Soon Sally was panting as much as Misty and it was obvious they were all going to make it another time.
Carl came very fast, swelling and then gushing forth, his seed boiling over in Misty's crotch, gushing out of her cunt and dribbling to the leather. Then Sally was slamming her cunt against Misty's hand, coming, filling the hand with a heavy scented milk. Misty herself was not far behind, responding to Carl's orgasm by pounding her hips up off the couch until she was making it, too.
She felt the explosions in her groin and then her hands and feet went numb as everything was poured into her crotch. She exploded, squealing with joy. She hammered her crotch against him as fast and as hard as she could, while he slammed down on her.
She felt as though she might be coming a second time, but then she heard the sound. It was outside, in the driveway. She knew the sound of the Pontiac.
"My God, it's my mother!" she cried. "She's come home early!"
The threesome flew apart as though scattered by a dynamite charge. Sally and Carl scooped up their clothing and dashed toward the back yard, promising to dress there and disappear over the fence into Carl's yard, once they were decent. Misty saw their racing figures leave and then she was mopping up the fouled couch with a wash cloth. She then pulled on her shirt and shorts and brushed at her hair in the instant before her mother walked into the room.
Mrs. Sommer paused in the doorway, staring at her daughter. She blinked as Misty tried to smile. "Hi, Mom," she said, in a voice that quavered.
Her mother stared at her and then she looked around the room. She sniffed the air gently, wrinkling her nose. "Hello, dear," she replied and Misty knew the grilling was going to start.
Mrs. Sommer came into the room and stood before her daughter. "You look strange. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, just fine," she said with a voice that broke in the middle. "What's that smell?"
"Oh ... Sally was over. She let me try some of her new musk perfume. Do you like it?"
Mrs. Sommer sniffed again. "I'm not sure. Your hair's a mess. What have you been into?"
"Uh ... oh, we were just playing around. Sally left a few minutes ago." She peered at her mother, wondering how much she knew. If she were playing around on the side herself, she'd know the feeling, the look, the excitement of sex which was being kept secret.
"Your face is flushed," her mother said, placing the back of her hand on Misty's forehead. "Are you all right? Do you have a fever?"
"I told you, I'm fine. Stop worrying. We were just messing around, playing games, exercising, seeing who could do the most pushups. You know how we do."
Mrs. Sommer gave her a long look. "No, I don't know, but if you say so." She dropped her purse. "The girls weren't able to stay long today, so I'm home early."
Misty sat down opposite her mother, peering into her face. "What do you and the girls do?" she asked, emphasizing the word "girls."
Mrs. Sommer gave her another quick glance. She seemed to be wondering if she detected suspicion. "Why?"
"Oh, you see so much of the girls. Three times a week, I'd say. I would think you'd do something else once in a while. Does Daddy mind if you see the girls?"
Her mother bit her lower lip and then she merely shook her head.
"Then your meetings with the girls don't threaten him in any way."
Mrs. Sommer shook her head firmly. "Absolutely not. He doesn't care what I do, Misty, so long as he comes first. When you start going out with serious young men, you would do well to remember that. You can do anything you wish, so long as you have an arrangement with the number one man."
Misty realized that her mother didn't know that she was telling all. Suddenly "the girls" had been transformed into "serious men" and she was telling her daughter that she had a right to variety in her sex life, so long as she could keep jealousy from creeping in and poisoning it.
She leaned over her mother, kissing her gently on the mouth. Mrs. Sommer was startled. "What was that for?"
"Because you're a wise lady and I appreciate you." She straightened, stretching. "And now I'm going to the beach, if you don't mind."
"Why should I mind? I haven't gotten you to do a lick of work around the house all summer."
"I painted the back porch."
Her mother waved at her. "Go. Play. Do your thing." She looked closely at her daughter one last time. "Just remember what I told you. Have your fun, but keep it fun until you decide on your main man. Make him understand that you're a free woman and a loyal woman at the same time. Allow him the same freedom to do as he wishes-when you're not around to occupy his full attention. Do you understand?"
Misty nodded, her face sober, and then she left the room She blew out her cheeks as she skipped up the stairs and into her room. She flopped across the bed, gasping with relief. There was no doubt that her mother suspected but that she'd chosen not to directly object. Her advice: be discreet, be adult, don't get too involved, keep your options open. She loved her mother for her maturity and her wisdom.
Thoughtful still, Misty slipped out of her shirt and her shorts. She stood before the mirror, looking at herself. Her body was still glowing from the recent sex, her breasts filled and distended, her pussy glistening. God, she really did need to cool off.
She slipped into a black bikini, a hip-hugger that barely covered her body in the vital places. Then she pulled her shorts and shirt back on, slipped her feet into sandals and tossed a huge towel over her shoulders. She went back down the stairs and out the front door because she didn't want to push her luck by meeting her mother again.
She hurried the few blocks to the beach, passing several of her high school friends who also were on their way down to the sand. It seemed as though her entire class was playing through the summer, waiting for the fall term at State or at some other college to begin. Well, she loved them all, but she wanted to be alone with her thoughts for a while.
She found a place in the sand, back by the sea wall. There she spread her towel and dropped a plastic bottle of sun-tan lotion in the middle. She walked down to the edge of the water, feeling the eyes of a hundred young men and those of a few envious girls, following her. She knew she looked very good. Her black bikini was effective against the fairness of her skin and the blond of her hair.
She let the water surge around her knees. It was less cold than she'd imagined. Now that the middle of summer was here the Pacific had yielded some of its chilly grip and made it possible to stay in the water for extended times.
Misty walked straight into the surf, feeling the waves break over her thighs, then over her crotch, enjoying the cool fresh feeling around her cunt. The water then lifted her breasts and soon she plunged in, sliding forward in several smooth strokes as she headed for deeper water. She saw the familiar raft beyond the breakers a hundred yards and she headed for it.
She reached the large raft with the red floats at the comers and the low walls on three sides to protect resting bathers from the cool wind or the open sea. She swam to the outward side of the raft to find the open side, so that she could pull herself up on the raft. She wiggled out of the water on her belly and rolled to her back, breathing hard as the gentle sun beat down on her, warming her now chilly body.
She rested on her back for several minutes, thinking about her new life. God, it had started the day before with a rush. Jerry, then Sally, then Carl and then a mixture. She smiled as she rested her arm across her eyes. Yes, she was learning fast and furiously, like a kid taking a cram course. She'd had plenty of meat crammed into her body in two days. She smiled again at the thought, "So, you're enjoying being alone, obviously," a voice said at her elbow. "Shall I leave you alone?"
Misty turned her head at once, seeing another head only a few inches from hers. He was in the water, but with his elbows hooked over the side of the raft. He was dark-haired and very tan, muscular, and he smiled, showing a line of perfect white teeth. His eyes, dark, crinkled at her.
She blinked, wondering what to say. So she said, not very brightly, "It's a free country. You may come or go as you like."
He chose to hoist himself up on the raft, and as he did so, Misty sat up. After all, she wasn't going to lie flat on her back, fully exposed, while this strange man devoured her with his eyes. She looked him over again as he shook the hair from his face and wiped briefly at his body. He sat on the edge of the raft, his feet in the water.
He was dark from more than the sun. He wasn't an American type. Yes, she'd noticed a slight accent in his speech. He turned quickly to her, catching her staring.
"Ah, so you are wondering about me," he said, flashing the dark smile again. "So, this man is not the usual Southern California beach boy, the blond young man with the blue eyes. No, this one is dark and he speaks strangely."
Misty made a gesture with her shoulders, seeing his eyes drop to her shifting breasts. "You can be anybody you like, friend. It's all right with me."
"So, I am Ali. And who are you?"
She pressed her lips together. American or not, he was a fast worker. "I'm a girl who wants some peace and privacy, if you don't mind. You may stay, if you wish, but I came out here to think."
It was his turn to shrug. "So, its a free country, as you Americans are so fond of saying. So you may think and I will not disturb."
He pulled himself all the way up on the raft and leaned back against the heels of his hands, his face lifted to the sun. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, slowly, and with a kind of ritual. Misty watched him for several minutes, until she knew she couldn't think private thoughts with this disturbing man so close to her. She cleared her throat and he turned, smiling at her.
"Um, you're from the Middle East, I guess," she said. "I'm sorry if I was rude to you. If you're a guest in this country you should be treated with respect."
He bowed his head in a formal way. "Ah, but how could any man believe that one so fair and so lovely could treat him with disrespect? You are a beautiful lady and I am proud to share your raft."
Flustered, Misty blushed. "Oh, it's not my raft. It's the city's, I guess. It's open to all of us-you included."
He nodded, his flashing smile dazzling her again. He had straight chiseled figures, looking like Charlton Heston in theatrical make-up. "So, yes, I am from the Middle East. I am a Saudi, a medical student here at your local university. There are several of us."
Misty nodded. "I think I heard about your group. Are you learning things all right?"
It was a stupid question, but she still was surprised and flustered. A foreign man was new to her. She didn't quite know how she should behave.
They chatted about his work, and as they talked she wondered who he really was. Was he oil rich? Did his family own oil wells that brought in lots of money? Did he drive a Mercedes and did he give his favorite girlfriends diamonds like they were candy bars?
"Well?"
She realized she'd been carried away by her thoughts and that he was asking her a question. She blinked. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
He smiled. "Are you telling me the truth? Usually you American women think it is quite a startling question."
She shrugged and again he looked at her breasts. "I'm really sorry, but I was thinking about something else. What did you ask me?" Somehow she wanted desperately to know. This could be important.
He shrugged. "All right, so I shall repeat it. Do you want me to fuck with you?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Misty stared at his dark face, her mouth dropping open. Her eyes were wide and she knew she couldn't have heard this young man right. She shook her head.
"I'm not sure you understand what you just said," she blurted. "You must be having trouble with the language."
"Not at all. It is just that where I come from we students have very direct ways when it comes to foreign woman. You see, we are very restricted at home. So when we are abroad we are quick to take advantage of our new freedom, away from all of our somewhat restricting laws. Do you understand?"
Misty bristled, feeling her breasts tighten. "I understand, all right. So you think you can come up to any American girl and she'll go to bed with you just because you ask. Well, you're crazy, mister Saudi ... whatever your name is."
"Ali," he repeated, suddenly shy and ashamed, to judge from his look. "I am so sorry. If I intruded, I did not mean to be so bold. I shall leave now and please accept my most humble apologies."
He got to his feet, a finely built man perhaps in his late twenties. He had a beautiful brown body, broad shoulders, a flat belly, long muscular legs. She thought about those legs being between her own. He raised his arms, ready to dive back into the ocean and out of her life.
"Ah!" she blurted as he leaned forward. He caught his balance and looked down at her. "It's all right. I'm sure you just don't understand our customs."
He again sat at her feet, his eyes wandering up and down her lovely body. He smiled, his head tilting. "But, my pretty lady, I do understand your customs very well. It is simply that we do not have much time and we are very direct. I told you. I might add, that it often is wise to be direct. It cuts through a great deal of what you call red tape."
Misty could only blink at him, knowing what his next question was going to be. He did not surprise her.
"So, my pretty one, do you want to fuck with me?"
"This is insane," she cried. "If I say no, you're gone. If I say yes, I'm an easy slut."
His dark head shook. "No, you are not a slut. You are a beautiful woman and I can tell you are a woman of intellectual quality." He touched her knee, sending a shiver up into her body. "I am the one who is forced to rush things. Forgive me, but you may answer in all confidence that our adventures shall be discreet-if we have any adventures at all."
Misty still thought it was insane, and not very damned fair. She had to open up to him right away-before he even asked her name-or have him kiss her off. Damned foreigners. What was the big rush, anyhow? She knew what the rush was. All of the Arabs felt they were living on borrowed time and the students abroad knew they would be called home at any time a crisis developed in their native lands.
She sighed and found she was nodding at him. This really was crazy. "Very well, Ali, We can do as you wish."
His eyes lighted. "Indeed, this is true? I am overwhelmed at your generosity!"
"I'm not giving you another oil well," she snapped. "I'm agreeing to make love with you. Stop thanking me as though we're making a transfer of property."
"Of course, my pretty lady."
He suddenly became smoother than ever and she realized he was an expert in what he was going to do. He crawled across the raft to her, bracing himself against its gentle motion. As he looked down into her breasts and her crotch he smiled.
"Very pure. We enjoy your kind." He pursed his lips. "Perhaps I take you home with me."
"And perhaps you don't," she snapped. She was turning off now, feeling like chattel. "Let's call the whole thing off, Ali. Your technique doesn't exactly make me feel like I'm the most precious in the oil field."
"He didn't say another word. Instead he placed his hands on her shoulders, pulled her forward so that he could reach behind her neck, and then he was untying the bikini bow under her hair. The top of her bikini flopped down, and when he opened the catch at the middle of her back, it fluttered to the deck.
She looked down at her golden breasts and at the pink nipples. Then she looked at his chest, at his nipples, which were a sort of bluish brown. He was staring at her breasts, his mouth slightly open.
"Ah, you are so fair, so rare in my native country," he purred. He leaned his face into her breasts to kiss a nipple. Misty angled her face up toward the sun, loving its heat and loving the touch on her bud. Without thinking, her hand strayed up his knee to his crotch, where she fumbled across his bathing trunks until she came to his cock.
Ali might have been a man from a distant land, but he didn't have any trouble getting up a hard-on that the all-American girl would understand. He was like a rock, really up there, bulging against his suit. She was sliding the zipper at his hip and opening a imagine brass button. The suit peeled away from his hip and whiter skin leaped into view. So, part of his darkness was from the sun.
As she touched his body his teeth closed down over her nipple with a jerk of reaction, hurting her so that she jumped. He lifted his head at once. "I am so sorry, my fair lady."
"Don't worry about it," she said immediately. "It's just a nice tingle, you understand? I'm just a bit new at this type of game."
"Ah, so, I am even more honored."
He kissed her other nipple. Then he was sliding a bow open at her hip and then at her other hip. The bottom half of her bikini fell away and, abruptly, Misty was totally naked before this stranger. He leaned back, his eyes drinking her in. She knew she looked good to him, just as he looked awfully good to her. He got up on his knees so that he could jerk down his trunks and toss them aside.
Now they both were naked, confronting one another on the bobbing raft. Misty giggled. "Suppose someone comes?"
He shrugged. "So we are caught. Are you not willing to assume the risk?"
She sighed, her fingers touching his large blue prick. "I am willing to assume the risk," she repeated.
He nodded as he grasped her by the hips. He began to push and shove at her, arranging her to the precise position he seemed to want. He got Misty up on her hands and knees, so that she was presenting her ass to him. She looked back over her shoulder, feeling like a cow about to be mounted by a bull in a pasture.
He smiled as he patted her bottom. "Such a nice rear quarters you have, my dear," he said.
She made a face. "We call it an ass here, AIL You might try to learn that."
He didn't reply. Instead, he spread her knees and came up against her bottom, getting his legs between hers. She felt his prick rake across her ass and she held her breath. God, what was he going to do, give it to her up the ass? She didn't know about that sort of an arrangement. She'd heard about it, but she didn't like the sound of it one little bit.
No, he didn't do that. Instead he slipped his prick between her legs, below her bung, and then he found her golden pussy. His knob slipped easily into the hole and Misty was marveling at how quickly he'd gotten himself halfway up into her body. Perhaps the animals had something going for them.
He rested his hands on the cheeks of her bottom. "Is it going all right? No hurt?" he asked. "Going all right," she replied. "No hurt." He chuckled and then he gave a small gasp of effort and pleasure as he sank several more inches into her pussy. She propped herself on the heels of her hands, shoving her ass back to meet his thrusts as he began to slide his body more firmly against hers.
Soon he was fully seated. He paused, seemed to collect himself, and then he began his rhythm. He banged his crotch against her body, propelling his prick in and out of her ass with a rhythm that was certain to be effective. Soon she was meeting him smoothly and they were in business, going at it with their juices flowing, their bodies well oiled and working like an efficient machine.
Soon she felt his final swelling and she waited for the blast that was certain to come. He surprised her then. Indeed, he shocked her. Just as she expected him to come, he pulled his long, stiff, dripping cock out of her body.
Misty looked over her shoulder, seeing the dripping thing still about to go off. "What the hell is this?" she rasped, "another Middle East custom? Get that thing back where it belongs. You're not going to frustrate me, you Arab bastard."
He snapped his eyes at her and then, incredibly, he was snapping his fingers, giving orders like a corporate sheik. "Promptly, on your back, my lady. On your back and lie flat, if you please."
Misty figured he was going to fuck her the usual way, so she lay down at once, not caring if the sun were in her eyes. She reached for him, but he slapped her hands away. He made her lace her ringers behind her head and straighten out her legs so that he had fully exposed her body.
Still Misty waited for him. Then he was lowering himself over her, his prick still dripping and looking like a sizzling stick of dynamite, ready to explode. He was too high and, when she tried to shift under him, he made her he still. Then his body was on hers, face to face, but high up so that the head of his cock was under her breasts, pointed at her chin.
"What the hell...? " she blurted, but he placed his finger over her lips.
Then he wiggled into position, held her breasts apart so that he could slip his hard cock up between them, and then he lay on her, crushing her breasts against his belly and around his shaft. Misty at last began to get the point, especially when he started to ease himself up and down on her body. She tried to help by moving in the opposite rhythm so that they were regaining their piston action.
She felt his cock expand, begin to leak some fluid and then, as he gasped and stiffened, his entire body like a piece of pipe, he went off. She felt the hot surge zoom up between her breasts, rip through the top and shoot up her throat to splatter against the bottom of her chin.
He shot against her chin again, and again, and yet again as he expended himself, his body shuddering, driving forward as he braced his toes against the rough deck of the raft and propelled himself like a torpedo. He kept shooting for more than a minute and Misty began to wonder when he'd had his last piece of ass.
At last he was finished and his cock began to soften. He eased his body from her, rolling to his back at her side. She lay quietly, feeling the come slowly drip around the side of her neck and dribble down on the deck. She turned her head to look at his closed eyes and his now serene profile, smiling up into the sun.
"So, it worked good?" she said.
He nodded. "Very good. Excellent. You are a wonder woman."
She moved her hand until it touched his. "Don't you think it's my turn now?"
He turned his head, looking into her face. "Your turn? I do not understand."
"You got your rocks off. What about me? I need satisfaction, too. After all, I'm a normal woman with the usual womanly desires."
He blinked. "But I am satiated, my dear. I am finished. I am twenty-eight years old. I am not the eighteen-year-old youth at the height of his powers."
Misty felt her lower lip start to quiver in shame and frustration. "You seemed pretty potent to me, Ah. Come on, you've got to do something. You have hands, a mouth, something."
He smiled at her. "Oh, I see, you think I am like your American Navy men, that I will-how you say?-love 'em and leave 'em."
She stuck out her shaky lower lip. "You're beginning to sound that way."
He stroked the side of her face with his fingers. "Do not fret, my lady. I am saving the best for you for later. I wish to call for you, to take you to dinner this evening. Perhaps someplace where we may dance. Would you like that? Then, when you wish, we shall fuck again and this time, I promise you, you will not be denied your total pleasure."
Misty quickly looked away. He was asking her out to dinner. It sounded imagine. Well, her folks would have to know about it, but there was no reason they would turn her down. They weren't so naive that they distrusted all foreigners. She made herself smile.
"Why, that sounds very nice."
He stroked her cheek again and then he rolled on his side, his dripping cock oozing jizz on her thigh, and he kissed her lightly on the mouth. "Where do you make your home?"
"At 3332 Elm Street," she replied. "Just a few blocks from here."
"I will find it," he murmured, kissing her again. "Until eight o'clock then."
She nodded as he sat up, pulled on his trunks, zipped them and then arced his body into the water without looking back at her. He was gone and, after a few minutes, Misty began to wonder if she'd only dreamed it all. Lord, he hadn't even asked her name.
She got up, wiggled her body into her suit and then she dived in. She swam quickly toward shore, and just in time, because she passed a couple of swimmers-man and woman-who said they were heading for the raft. She ran across the hot sand and wrapped herself in her big towel. She rubbed her body until it glowed and then she picked up her things and began to walk toward the steps up to the street.
"Hi."
She turned, squinting into the sun. It was Carl, looking more like a string bean than ever in his baggy boxer trunks suit.
"Oh, hi," she replied.
"Uh, I wondered if you'd be down here. I had a good time with ... I mean, I had a good time at your house this morning. I wondered what you were gonna be doing tonight."
Misty smiled, suddenly feeling far superior to this teen-aged American oaf. She lifted her chin. "I have plans for tonight, thank you. Dinner plans. And I don't expect to be home until late. I'm so sorry."
He seemed crushed and, at once, she was sorry. She touched his arm. "Hey, Carl. I didn't mean to put you down...."
"like hell you didn't," he snapped. "So you've got a date. Just tell me you can't go out with me. Don't rub it in. I know when I'm out of my league. Hell, why should I expect that a dream-boat like you would do anything with me? You probably don't even want to be seen in public with me. I can understand all that."
Misty grasped his hand, pulling .him back when he turned to walk away. "But you don't understand. I'm just being bitchy, but I have no right. Not after what we did this morning."
He smiled. "All right, so make it up to me."
Misty sighed, looked around. She pulled him behind a large mound of sand. There she spread her towel. She sat down and pulled half of the towel over their bodies as he sat down close to her. Their shoulders rubbed together. "You know this is childish," she snapped.
"Just a feel and it'll be all right," he said. "We can do more later."
"I told you, not tonight. Really later. like tomorrow, or some other time."
He licked his lips as she pulled down the bottom of her bikini and she was disgusted with herself for becoming excited at the prospect of his hands touching her on the cunt. She felt her juices heat up and start to flow as she got the bikini bottom down to her knees, its bows again untied. He watched her closely as she worked.
When she had the bikini bottoms down she looked around. They were out of sight of everyone and half covered. It seemed to be safe enough to proceed. She glanced at her cunt, which was still damp and salty from the ocean, very fresh, so that the musky odor had been chased away.
She shuddered, ready for him to do the things he wanted to do. "I feel like a damned fool," she muttered.
"You didn't feel so foolish this morning," he said to her.
"Things have happened since then." When he raised his eyebrows, she continued, "Things that are none of your business."
She pointed to her crotch. "All right, at least you can't accuse me of snubbing you. Help yourself to whatever turns you on."
He plunged his hands straight into Misty's box, his fingers working, tangling themselves in her hairs. She closed her eyes as she trembled. This was really sick, but she did love her sex, wherever it might come from. He pulled at her lips, spreading them. Then he was leaning over her, kissing her belly button and working his way down until he was shoving his nose through her hairs.
Her hand came to his head and she patted it gently, actually wanted to press it hard all the way up her pussy to make him drink. She shuddered again as he began to trigger some of her firing buttons. She knew that, since she still was so hot from what Ah had done to her, she'd soon be going off.
He wormed his nose back and forth and, sure enough, in another minute she was approaching her peak. She felt her cunt lips close over his face like the folds of a small purse, drawing him in and almost suffocating him. Rasping, he managed to get enough air as he gobbled at her, his tongue out now, swishing around, lapping at her most tender places. He found her button and his tongue raked it strongly several times.
"Oh...."Misty cried.
Then she grappled with his hair, grasping handfuls of it and hanging on as a great convulsion rippled through her, making even her toes tingle. She came again, gasping, squirming her ass against the hot sand until she was making herself a comfortable hole.
His tongue lashed at her, lapping as her juices came sliding down from deep in her body. Now the scent of musk filled their little tent and she was consumed by her orgasm. She wiggled on, her hands reaching for him, opening his striped trunks and groping until she found his prick.
It was up and hard, ready to go. Well, she didn't have time to go at it the conventional way, so she began to stroke him very rapidly. She worked like a rabbit, her arm and fist almost a blur as she worked at his hot flesh, jacking him off as rapidly as she could.
His eyes bugged and he gasped. "Golly, I'm all ready to come," he blurted.
"That's the idea," Misty replied as she finished her own orgasm and was able to give him her full attention. At last she felt his knob begin to shudder and it grew even larger. Then he was going off, spouting his milk, shooting across her towel and onto the sand. She watched the jizz flow from his prick, totally fascinated. It was really something to actually see the milk pouring from a man's dick.
His spurts began to slow and finally there was nothing more than a dribble. She tucked his softening pecker back inside his trunks and zipped him closed.
Then she looked into his face, smiling. "That was very nice, wasn't it?" she purred, suddenly feeling very gentle toward her trusting neighbor.
He nodded. "I want to do it again."
"Later," she replied as she worked on her bikini bottoms, pulling them up and again tying the bows at her hips. "I told you, I'm busy tonight."
She threw back the towel, got up and, smiling down at him, she tossed off a salute. But her mind was looking ahead to her evening with Ali.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Misty's mother stood over her, her hands on her hips, staring. "What do you mean, you don't know anything about this man? How can you accept a date with someone you've just met-and a foreigner at that?"
Misty looked from her dressing table, her face flushed. Her mother had been digging at her from the moment she'd found out about the date with Ah. Obviously, she was worried about her daughter. As Misty looked up at her face in the mirror behind her, Mrs. Sommer whirled and left the room. Misty finished adjusting her party dress and then she got up, inspecting herself in the floor-length mirror.
She turned her body this way and that, satisfied with what she saw. Yes, she looked very good. The tight white dress hugged her figure. It was cut low at her breasts and it was long enough to pass for formal but not so long that she would fall all over herself.
She was embarrassed to realize that it was, in fact, her high school prom dress and that she'd last worn it on that June prom night only two months before. She hardly could remember who had taken her to the dance in the gymnasium, but it was light years ago, so far as her development since was concerned.
She left the bedroom, looking at her watch. It was eight o'clock already and she was hungry. The rest of the family had eaten an hour ago. Downstairs they were all waiting for her and Jerry pursed his lips in a low wolf whistle. Misty rolled her eyes at him.
"Thanks," she snapped, "I really needed that."
"You look terrific," her brother said, his eyes skating up and down her curvy figure.
"Our little girl does look very nice," Mr. Sommer said, placidly puffing on his pipe. His eyes also were taking her in, appreciating the view.
"But I'm not a little girl," Misty complained.
"You're eighteen, my dear," her mother said, walking around her in a final inspection. "I wish you'd find something to cover up your bodice. You look like you're ready to pop out of that gown."
"It was good enough for graduation," Misty snapped. "What's so different now?"
"Your new boyfriend," Mrs. Sommer snapped right back. She looked at her husband. "Jason, can't you talk to this daughter of ours? After all, she's dating a Saudi Arabian. You don't suppose he'll kidnap her and carry her off to Araby, do you?"
Mr. Sommer laughed. "This is the twentieth century, my dear. The Arabs come here for their fun. They can't misbehave at home or there's real trouble for them. Don't worry, I'm sure this young man...."
"A young man of twenty-eight," Mrs. Sommer snapped. "Ten years older than Misty."
He sucked placidly on his pipe. "I wouldn't worry. Misty is a big girl. She knows how to take care ... "
The doorbell rang and Misty jumped. She ran toward the door with her mother calling after her. "Gently, dear, gently. Don't forget you're a lady."
But Misty had something else on her mind and, as she jerked the door open, she blurted, "Remember, I'm Misty Sommer. And you're Ali Habib, right?"
There was a chuckle on the front porch and her eyes widened. A beautiful man stood waiting for her. It was Ali, all right, his dark hair slicked down, and looking immaculate in a midnight-blue tuxedo, complete with black tie, ruffled shirt and gleaming pearl studs. Visions of oil wells danced in Misty's head. Her eyes rolled back.
"You must forgive me for not finding out these things," the smooth Arab-accented voice said, "Misty Sommer, and it is such a beautiful name."
Misty was thrilled at the sight of him and she caught her breath. Already she could feel her breasts start to swell, and it was a dangerous feeling. Supposing her mother was right and they did pop out of her bodice at some embarrassing time? She smiled to herself as she opened the door wider.
"Come on in," she murmured. "My parents want to get a look at you."
It was an amiable confrontation. Ali was very polite in his old-world way, and immediately Misty could see that her mother was charmed. She was proud of how Ali looked, dark, straight, proper, and somehow looking like the son of a wealthy man as he stood before them.
Her father tried to sound out Ali's financial condition, but Misty headed him off with some sharp looks of her own. Her father gave up, instead shaking Ali's hand as they went to the door to see them off.
"Don't keep our little girl out too late," Mrs. Sommer called after them, and Misty could have died.
"God, her little girl!" she hissed in the darkness.
Ali was chuckling again as Misty flushed. God, her mother had made her feel like such a child, when she really was beginning to feel very grown up. After all, she'd sure as hell lost her cherry in a big hurry, and if her mother only knew with whom she wouldn't be so worried about her going out with a stranger.
As they walked down to the curb, Misty took his arm. "I hope you understand. I usually don't allow strange men to pick me up and I especially don't allow them to do to me what you did to me this afternoon."
He was very attentive, every inch the gentleman. "Oh, I understand, Miss Sommer...."
"After what we did on the raft I think it's all right if you call me Misty."
"Misty ... I understand that I am a very fortunate man and I certainly appreciate the experience we had together. I feel very honored...."
"You can can it," Misty snapped. "Just so you don't think I'm an easy roll in the hay."
He still was protective as they reached his car, and it was a flying bomb. A Mercedes sport, a 450SL, a nifty little number that she knew went for about twenty-five big ones. She pursed her lips and her eyes widened. She saw lots of oil wells on the horizon.
"Hey, this is special," she said.
She leaned against him and at once his arm came around her waist. They were in darkness where light from the front porch could not penetrate, and she didn't pull away when his hand slid up to cup her breast. Ah, that old familiar tingling. She lifted her chin and her eyes half closed. "Oh, Ali, you sure have the touch."
"And you have the lovely pear-shaped breasts, my lady," he purred, his voice as smooth as oil flowing through a pipe line.
She tingled again as she put her fingers over his. "No more for the present, if you please. I'm starving. You may consider yourself a lady-killer, but it isn't fair to starve them to death."
He chuckled as he held the door while she slid into the car. She brushed at her pretty white party dress and then she watched him slide in at her side. He looked so smart in his almost black tux, so elegant. It made his eyes and his teeth very white and his ruffled white shirt was like a tumble of snow coming out of his breast.
As he closed his door she leaned against him, shoving her left breast into his upper arm. He looked down at it, his hand drifting to her throat so that a finger could tuck itself into her bodice. She waited while he worked the finger into the deep, warm crack between her breasts. When he started to climb one of the slopes, she simply placed her hand over his again.
"You forget. No food, no play. Come on, or I'll start chewing on your genuine leather upholstery."
She sat back as he started the car, clashed the gears until she winced, and then they sped away from the curb. He drove down to the waterfront, to a remodeled Victorian boat house where the lights twinkled from the eaves, an orchestra played and girls' laughter trailed over the water. They got out and paraded inside as a youth in a white car coat took the keys and leaped into the Mercedes, speeding off to some hidden parking place.
The Victorian atmosphere was carried out inside the restaurant with waiters dressed in old-fashioned clothing, gas-like lamps, red velvet drapery, red carpet with a small orchestra that played in front of a small crowded dance floor. The head waiter bowed over them as Ah slipped some folded bills into his palm and they were taken to a table up front, right next to the dance floor, but tucked into a secluded comer where there was some privacy.
As they sat down Ah snapped his fingers and a waiter hurried over. They ordered drinks, Misty choosing something tall and not too strong, while Ah chose some European thing she did not understand, something she had never before heard of.
They sat next to each other, their backs against the wall, sharing a soft couch-like seat. They placed their elbows on the table and gazed across the room. The place was just about filled, very gay, and there was lots of laughter still going on. She smiled into his face and then she kissed him on the tip of his nose.
At that moment their drinks came and they sipped deeply. Then he took her hand. "It is time for the dance, my lady," he purred, his voice smooth as crude oil. "You would like to dance with me?"
Misty giggled. "I would like to dance with you."
They went to the floor and, since the music was fast, they did an energetic disco. Then the pace slowed and, during a dreamy number, he held her close. Misty liked it when his arm went tightly around her waist and she was able to tuck her chin into the side of his neck.
Their bodies moved very closely together, her breasts mashed against his chest and again threatening to pop out of her bodice. He shoved his crotch against hers and she could feel the lump of his cock. He was up, all right, and very hard. He withdrew his head and smiled into her face.
"You are aware of me?" he murmured.
She nodded. "Very aware."
He looked around. "Come, one more thing before it is time for dinner."
He took her hand and they left the floor. He led her out on the boat house deck, around to the water side, where it was dark and they were alone. Behind them, through the windows, they could see into the place, where the orchestra was playing another disco number and the couples were shaking everything.
They stood against the railing, looking out into the bay, where the moon drew a ribbon of silver across the water, straight to them. His arm went around her waist. Then it slipped down until he was pressing into the firm meatiness of her ass. Oh, but that felt good. She turned to smile at him.
"You really are going to make me earn that dinner, aren't you?" she said, her voice low and throaty.
He nodded, his teeth a slash of white in the shadows. "I will pay in full, in a few moments. You understand my need first, do you not?"
He moved his hand on her bottom, pressing into the flesh until little jumps of pleasure were darting through her body. She gasped when his hand slid into the crack of her ass and gently slid up and down. Oh, but that felt good. A goose could thrill a girl all the way up to the roots of her hair, and Misty was thrilled everywhere. She closed her eyes as his hand slid down her crack, all the way down between her legs, until he was working at the edge of her pussy.
She gasped as he lifted the hem of her dress and touched the inside of her thigh. Oh, God, but that was tender flesh, untouched flesh that went crazy when his fingers brushed up into her crotch once again. He wormed into her hairs and she felt small spurts of pleasure begin. Soon he was ringing her outer lips, drawing moisture from her body so that she was soon lubricating generously.
She was up on her toes, her hands gripping the railing of the boat house deck as his hand wormed into her pussy. He stuck a finger inside and moved it around, finding her knot of nerves and muscle and wiggling it back and forth. She gasped and her hands went behind her, where he was standing. She groped against his crotch, finding his prick and squeezing it right through his pants.
It was Ali's turn to gasp and she yanked at his zipper tab, opening his fly and rummaging inside, even as his finger continued to milk her. She uncoiled his prick and pulled it out. Then she turned, looking down at his snake. It was so long, so brown, so straight. It was a lance in the moonlight, sticking straight toward her middle.
He pointed. "Please, observe the pretty water."
Misty turned her back on him again, gripping the rail as he lifted her dress, tucking it into her waist. She felt the cool night air on her bare ass and she knew that soon enough she would be warmed.
She closed her eyes as she felt his prick touching the cheek of her bottom. The prick slid across her cheek and into the crack. Oh, that felt good. A prick was better than a hand any day of the week. He shoved his crotch against her and she felt the prick bend against her ass.
She reached back, wrapped her fingers around the straight shaft, and then she directed it. She moved it over her bung, which was tightly closed. She held the knob right there, trying to force herself to relax. She worked at it mightily, knowing that she had to defeat a psychological block. She at last managed to ease off and, when she did, he leaned into her.
It was like nothing Misty ever before had felt inside her body. His knob came inside and she gasped. God, she felt as though she were being split wide open. He leaned again and several inches of prick came inside her. Oh, she really loved the feeling now. Her mind went into a whirl as he shoved again and again, sinking inch after inch into her body until at last she felt his balls flapping against her thighs.
She reached back. There was no prick left. It was all up in her. Lower, she found his balls and she ran her fingers over them, pinching now and then and delighting in his moans of pleasure. She felt the sizzling heat of his balls, which were tight with his male power. He was really ready all over again, even though she thought she had drained him that afternoon.
He began to move his body back and forth, his prick sliding out a few inches and then back in again. Misty leaned away from him and then toward him, working to match his rhythm. Soon they were like a machine, working together, his real-life piston sliding in and out of her body. God, but the machine was becoming very hot.
She felt his swelling and he gasped, his face buried in her hair. "I'm going to, how you say, come very soon now, my darling," he gasped.
She nodded. "I can tell But when do I get some satisfaction?"
"Soon. Do not worry. In my country the man is king and the woman exists to serve him. He must satisfy his pleasures first and then your time will come."
Misty didn't like the sound of that and, even as he ripped into her body, it occurred to her that he was coming in her for the second time and she had yet to get her rocks off from him.
He blasted up into her, grunting and ramming her so hard with his hips that she almost was vaulted over the railing into the bay. She held on, her nails digging into the wood, as he came into her from behind a second time, his hot loads of jizz warming up her whole middle and radiating out into her entire body. He came with several more heavy spurts, all of which were drowning her insides, but she loved the feeling. It was unique, something which never before had happened to her.
At last he sagged against her back, draping himself over her like a damp towel. She planted her feet to hold him up while he gasped for air and strength. Oh, but that did feel good. She almost laughed. Talk about being well-connected. She had this connection with an Arab who obviously was not worried about where his next meal was coining from.
He gasped over her ear, his breath stirring her hair as he gradually regained control of himself. As last he pulled his body from hers and stepped back, still weak in the knees, from the look of him.
Misty turned, confronting him. "Well, I hope you had a good time. I'm beginning to feel like a mare in a pasture. You Middle Easterners certainly love using the back door. Are you sure you aren't a Greek?"
"Ah, we Arabs are first cousins to the Greeks," Ah replied, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. "Do not worry, my sex kitten. Soon we will have our pleasures in the manner of your country, of my adopted country."
She nodded and, at that moment, another couple appeared on their deck. Ali quickly moved against the railing and Misty flipped her dress down over her ass. They stood close together, shielding his still semi-hard and still dripping prick as the couple paused at their side.
"Oh, such a night, Arthur," the woman said, her voice purring in the night.
"Yes, my darling," Arthur replied.
The newcomers glanced at Ali and Misty, smiling in a friendly way. "Isn't it peaceful out here?" the man said. "So calm, so without tension or effort. It's difficult to imagine doing anything out on this deck except dreaming."
Ali laughed shortly and looked into Misty's face. She was smiling, too, but she couldn't help herself. Ah at last replied, "Yes, it is very placid. But there is excitement in the moonlight. It can do strange things to people."
The other couple peered at him. "Strange things?" the woman asked.
He nodded, placing his fingers on Misty's cheek. "There is the animal in us all, waiting to be released. This place, this light, this setting, it can release that animal."
The others stared and then the man was pulling at the woman's arm. "Come, Martha, we're going back inside. I don't think there are so many animals in there."
Sounding rather disappointed, Martha agreed, and the couple left. Ali looked into Misty's face, kissing her on the nose. She said to him, "Just who the hell are you, anyhow?"
"You know. I am the student here. My English, it is not yet perfect. My father wants me to learn American ways so that I may teach others at home. It is as simple as that."
She sniffed. "And who is your father?"
"Ah." He took her arm as he wiped his white handkerchief over his prick, cleaning it thoroughly before tucking it back inside his pants. "Perhaps someday you will meet my father."
CHAPTER NINE
Misty had mixed feelings as they strolled back inside the restaurant. Twice he'd given it to her from the rear and neither time had he made any effort to make certain she was going to have an orgasm of her own. The damned Arabs, she thought. He'd laid it on the line: The male was the one in charge, the boss, the one who was supposed to get his satisfaction before the woman.
Well, that attitude didn't turn Misty on. She was going to hold out on this bird, if necessary, in order to let him know that she wasn't rolling over on her back for a man who wasn't going to do more than take her to dinner. The frills were very nice, but she had to get her sexual satisfaction as well.
They returned to their table where Ali placed his hand on her knee under the table as they ordered another round of drinks. Then he ordered for her, without bothering to ask for her choice. Fortunately, he ordered something that Misty liked. He spoke to their waiter in French and she never knew exactly what they ate, except that it was chicken in some very good French sauces, along with three kinds of wine.
They took their time eating and, as they did so, his hand occasionally returned to her knee. He enjoyed sliding it up her thigh, under her dress, all the way up to the edge of her pussy, where there was nothing more to block his way. Each time he came close to the heart of her body she stiffened and once she dropped her fork with a clatter.
He laughed easily as a few heads turned toward them. "Confidence, my pet," he purred as he placed his hand directly over her cunt. Misty drew in her breath sharply, vibrating to the feel of his fingers closing over her snatch. She held her breath, almost choking on her wine. She put down the fragile glass in a hurry and put her napkin to her lips.
She looked into his face. "If you do that here I can't guarantee what will happen," she murmured. "I'm very hot, thanks to you and your Arabian male ways. I haven't gone off yet and my fuse is cut very short."
He again chuckled. "Ah, I was hoping for as much. So, the lady is frustrated. I told you, do not worry. You hour will come. It was you who insisted on eating before we ... well, before we carry on with our affair."
She nodded as she polished off the chicken. He watched with continued amusement, asking if she wanted another course. She declined, but she did not turn down the French pastry cart which was loaded with good things to eat. She took a double dessert, loving every bite.
At last they were done and she put her napkin in her lap. Her fingers went to his thigh and then up his leg to where she could touch his pouch lightly. As she felt him she also felt his prick begin to come back to life. "That was very nice, Ali," she purred, speaking with her lips against his ear. "I'm sorry if I was testy, but I get that way when I'm hungry." She giggled. "Keep me well fed and you can do as you please with me."
They laughed together as he signaled their waiter. Misty saw AH take out a thick roll of bills. He placed several twenties on the little tray and the waiter took it away with Ali waving for him to keep the change.
She cocked her head at him as he finished his third cup of thick, dark coffee that came in a small cup. "I'm afraid you spend your money very freely," she said.
He shrugged. "My father's money. He thinks school costs so much in America. He sends me too much and I have plenty left over for pretty ladies such as you."
Misty stuck out her lower lip. "So, do you have very many pretty ladies on your string?"
He wagged his finger at her. "Ah, do not try to trick me, Misty. It is not nice. Come along now, and I will show you something that is very nice. One of my best friends loaned it to me for the night."
He shoved the table back and they got up. Their waiter bowed until his chin was almost on the carpet as they left. In a moment their Mercedes was screeching to a halt before them and the youth in the car coat was holding the door for Misty as Ali slipped him some bills.
They zipped out of the parking lot and along the boulevard close to the harbor. Soon they turned in at one of the city's newest and fanciest marinas, where even Misty's father hesitated to pay to tie up their small sailboat. Ali drove slowly along the slips until he found a parking place close to a large craft, one so big it almost could be classified as a yacht.
Misty didn't dare think it would happen-but it did. He took her arm and led her to the yacht. It was easily fifty feet long with two masts, a large enclosed cabin and beautiful lines that showed up cleanly in the lights that dotted the slips.
"Oh, Ali!"
"You like it?" She could see that he was pleased that she was impressed.
"God, who wouldn't? You say it belongs to a friend of yours?"
He nodded. He led the way to the short gangway that led across to the deck. They walked carefully, their heels clicking on the solid wooden deck. They stopped and she looked forward and aft. "It's an absolute treasure," she gushed.
"So, my friend will be pleased that you are pleased," he said.
She stared into his dark face, touching his cheek with her fingers. "Just who is your friend, a millionaire?"
"Another of the students from my country, that is all," he said. "Perhaps you will meet later. That would be very agreeable for us all, I should think."
They strolled the deck as he pointed out the wheel, the anchor, and other nautical features of the sleek craft. Then he opened the small door that led down into the cabin. She followed him down the short ladder to the roomy place, which was three rooms, really: a combination lounge and kitchen, a bedroom, and a very imagine bathroom. All the comforts of home.
Misty was stunned at the richness of the place. Why, she thought, the boat might be worth almost half a million dollars. She really didn't know, but she knew that nobody could afford such a craft without a great deal of money and an income to keep it operating.
"The crew has been given the evening free," Ali said as he stood in the middle of the cabin deck, looking at her. "There is only you and I."
She turned to him, closing the gap between them as she lazily draped her arms around his neck. "Now isn't that lucky for us? Your friend thinks of everything. I can't wait to meet the skipper of this yacht."
She saw a glint of humor in his eyes. "As I said, perhaps you shall."
She threw her hips against him, rubbing them back and forth against his crotch until his prick was standing out like a blunted cannon, a chunk of iron, being pounded by her hips as she swished them across his front. She stepped back and together they looked down at his crotch.
"So, the stud is ready for me," she muttered. "Well, remember, this time I'm the main event."
He laughed. "Of course. I promised you as much, and Ali Habib does not go back on his word ... ever."
She dropped her hands to her sides as he tucked his hand against the side of her neck, under her golden hair. He stroked her gently and then, his hand firm, he began to draw her toward him. Soon her breasts were rubbing against the front of his jacket. He looked down at them.
"You do not wear much to interfere," he muttered, "but I have much too much clothing. If you will excuse me I will-as you Americans enjoy saying-slip into something comfortable. You must do the same. Here, this is a short robe for you."
He gave her a white robe, pointed toward the bathroom, and she left him unbuttoning his shirt studs and removing his jacket as she retreated. In the bathroom she quickly shimmied out of her party dress, carefully folding it over the shower rod. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing that her face was flushed. She was excited about what she hoped was going to happen, all right, very excited. She had played games with this man ever since the beach that afternoon and it seemed so long ago now. It was time for her to get her satisfaction.
Her breasts were pulled up tight, the nipples standing out. Her blonde bush was glistening like newly poured gold. But there was a trembling in her knees. Yes, she was ready, and she was very excited.
She pulled the robe over her shoulders, tying it at her waist. It came halfway down her thighs and looked very sexy. She posed, pouting in a saucy way and then laughing at her own antics. Then she turned and went back into the bedroom, through it, and into the galley-lounge. He was waiting for her, his dark eyes flashing.
Ali had on a robe of his own, this one black, so that it contrasted sharply with her garment. His also was very short and Misty got the feeling that the yacht was well-supplied with such robes for parties. One size fits all.
She posed for him, poking one knee in front of the other, and she stretched out her arms. "like me?" she asked in a little-girl voice.
He nodded as he came close to her. "Love you. You are a most exciting lady, my dear."
She waited as he circled her, his eyes darting up and down. Then, surprising her, he stopped behind her. An instant later she felt her robe being lifted and his hand was on her ass. She closed her eyes as the palm roamed across one of her warm cheeks and into the crack. Here we go again, she thought. This guy has a fetish for the back door. I wish he'd try the front once in a while.
Ah ran his ringers up and down the crack as Misty got up on her toes. Oh, but that did feel very good. She turned toward him so that his hand slipped out from under her robe. He immediately untied the garment and pulled it away from the front of her body. Together they looked down at her breasts, her belly and her pussy. All seemed to be ready, eager and waiting for his bidding.
He smiled as he palmed a breast. His hand came under the mound, lifting it gently as though testing its weight. She purred deeply in her throat, like a big contented cat. His hand came up over the slope of her breast and his thumb raked across the nipple. She shuddered as though he'd poked her in the belly with his elbow. Oh, but that was nice. Her nipples were so sensitive.
He pulled the robe over her shoulders and down her arms, tossing it to a chair. Then he leaned over' her, his lips finding her other nipple and kissing it. She grabbed at him, catching the folds of his robe and holding on. Oh, his mouth was driving her out of her mind, All of her hours of frustration were welling up in this instant. He'd gotten his rocks off with her several times, but she had yet to pop her cookies.
She shuddered as he slid his tongue across her nipple, raking the pink bud until its nerves were standing up and shouting for joy. Then he I kissed the other nipple and again his tongue did its efficient work. She ran her hands through his hair, her eyes closed, as he nursed at her breasts, moving back and forth in leisurely fashion.
Finally he straightened, stepped close to her, his arms down between their bodies. He came against her with his palms turned out, so that his fingers curled directly into her snatch. She gasped with surprise and pleasure at his direct attack.
"So," she squealed, "you've finally discovered that I have a cunt!"
"I have always known." he muttered, his voice very low. "Saving the best for last, as you Americans would say."
She was forced to back up as he pressed against her, and soon her bottom came up against the back of a chair. She was bent over backwards as he kept his hips coming into her and his fingers rummaged through her box.
She loved the feel of his hands in her hairs, working their way straight to her cunt lips where they ringed her puffy lips and then dipped into her hole. Immediately she was piping hot, steaming, panting, her juices flowing generously. God, this man could turn her on and off like a faucet. He was a miracle-worker.
She was bent farther back over the chair as his hands kneaded her belly, worked over her thighs and then returned to her pussy. She held her breath as she extended her hands, worked at his sash and finally untied his robe. She spread it wide open and his prick leaped out like a switchblade, jumping straight toward her middle like a lance.
She gasped as she saw it. It seemed so much larger than it had been earlier. "You've grown," she exclaimed.
"I've grown in my desire for your body, my lady," he replied at once, his eyes glowing as he smiled straight into her face. "I will show you how I have grown."
He didn't waste any time. His prick raked across her thigh, nestled into her hairs, and then it was shoving against the side of her cunt lips. She peered down at it, her eyes wide. It was like watching the linking of a couple of space craft in orbit high above the earth. She felt as though she were in orbit, all right.
He moved his cock farther to the right, centered on his target and then he again looked deeply into her eyes. "So, you are all ready?"
"Hell, yes," she exclaimed, leaning back farther so that her hips jutted forward with a fine hard edge.
He angled his hips forward, also, and at once his knob, dark and dripping already, slipped inside her body. She bit her lower lip with the sharp pain, because he was really so large. He leaned into her again and several inches of cock disappeared into her body. Oh, but that was wonderful, like sliding down a long slick runway into a pot of gold.
He grasped her shoulders and again shoved his prick against her, lifting her to her toes now, and bending her back at an almost impossible angle. She wondered if she would break in half from the bending or from the size of his prick. But she did neither. Instead she accepted his total length as he slid in inch after inch until his balls were flapping against her thighs.
Then he paused, catching his breath as their gasping filled the otherwise silent cabin. Well, not quite silent. There was a very gentle motion and outside she could hear the lapping of the harbor waters against the hull. It was all very peaceful and erotic. Misty hoped she wouldn't pass out from pure bliss and miss any of the fun.
He pulled his hips back from her body, easing the force with which she was pressed against the chair back, and then he came forward again, shoving his weight into her, forcing his prick back in to the hilt. She ballooned with the bulk of him as he again totally filled her pussy.
He began pumping in a regular rhythm, in and out, working smoothly but with great power. Still, there was an old-world gentleness about this Arab. It was as though he had been raised to know how to treat a woman as a total sex object, as though sex were one of his main purposes in life.
Misty didn't know much about him, but she was certain that he was giving her the best fuck she'd ever had, with the possible exception of that first time with her brother Jerry. That had been an excellent screwing, but it had been her maiden voyage, so that it was unlike any other screwing she ever was- likely to get in her lifetime.
But Ah, well ... he was something else. He pumped in and out in a steady rhythm, growing with each stroke, lifting her to the gates of orgasm and then hurling her over the threshold. She felt herself falling through space, her body growing ever hotter as she sought reentry.
Then she was coming, convulsing, spilling out her hot juices so that they seemed to spread all over her body, burning everywhere they touched her flesh. It was beautiful agony the way she spread her heat. She let it flow onto him also, flooding his prick with her hot and musky juices, making him cry out for joy.
"Oh...! " she wailed as her pussy went into convulsions, the muscles like a rubber bellows, sucking in and out, grasping at his prick like a pair of hands and pulling it as deeply into her body as she could manage. She was amazed at the way her cunt was a living thing, almost with a mind and a will of its own as it dragged on the knob of his cock.
He could not resist her effort, of course, and in another minute he was blowing out his cheeks. His eyes bugged as his prick exploded, the knob whipping inside her pussy like a snake. He blasted a wad of jizz against the base of her cunt and she took it, staggering, but accepting it and shooting her strength right back at him. She also was coming, for a second time.
They came into one another's bodies, shooting, standing firm, struggling, grappling like a couple of wrestlers. They came again and again as they fired their sexual energy at point blank range. She wondered how long they could keep it up, and the duration astounded her.
She climaxed again and again, repeatedly brought to her sexual peak by this clever man who had the tongue, the hands, and the prick of a master sexual machine. She felt herself hit new heights of passion with each convulsion until, just when she thought she had no more to give, somehow she found a reserve of sexual strength.
At last she began to droop, although she recovered somewhat now and then to give him a few final spurts. He also was running low, and she had a feeling that this time she'd really drained his crankcase. God, he'd taken her best shots and come back for more. This man must have stored up his male juices for a month.
They staggered apart and Ali plopped down on a couch, his body glistening in its nakedness. Misty also had the staggers, and she made her way to a chair, where she sank down gratefully. There was no sound except their breathing inside the large cabin for several minutes.
Gradually the other sounds came back to Misty. She heard the gentle lapping on the hull and a few sounds outside on the bay. She rolled her head from side to side, trying to get herself oriented once again. God, what was she doing to herself? She'd been a fucking machine from the moment she'd lost her cherry, and that wasn't very long ago. Since then she'd been making it with every man and woman who'd crossed her path.
She looked across at Ali. He was half smiling, somehow elegant even though he had no clothes on. His dark prick was drooping between his legs and he was breathing normally. A few minutes later he got up, went into the head and returned with a couple of hot damp towels. He dropped one in Misty's lap and its heat made her gasp.
But she clutched it gratefully, wiping her face, then her breasts, and then wiping at her crotch until she'd cleaned herself. He did the same. Then he took the towels from her and stored them away someplace. He came back, picked up her robe and dropped it into her lap.
"My, you're being very attentive, for a hard line Arab," she murmured. "I thought women were inferior."
"Not you, my lady," he said, leaning over and kissing her gently on the mouth. "Now get into your robe at once."
She laughed. "Why? Is company coming?"
"I think so, yes."
Misty stared. "Are you serious? Who would be coming here tonight?" Then the light dawned in her head. "Oh, you said something about the owner."
He nodded as he got into his black robe and shoved his feet into comfortable slippers his host apparently had also supplied. "I expect the owner to arrive soon. We are classmates at the college, as I said."
Misty pulled on her white robe and she sat watching him as he went into the galley and opened the refrigerator. He got out a bottle of champagne and a couple of frosted glasses. He brought them into the salon where he opened the bottle with a skillfully soft "plop." He then poured into the glasses, handing her one.
They touched rims as he again stood over her, and then they drank. It tasted good and Misty realized she'd screwed away a good deal of energy. God, but she was abusing her body. It was remarkable that her pussy hadn't been torn apart. So much had been done to it the last three days and she wondered when she would decide she'd had enough. If she ever would get enough.
She put her fingers to her lips. "Oh, I just remembered."
He frowned, waiting.
"My parents. We told them I'd be home soon. It's getting late."
He smiled lazily as he went to a white telephone. "What is their number?"
"Five five five, seven eight six nine."
He dialed it at once and in a few seconds he was speaking to her mother. "Ah, Mrs. Sommer. I hope I did not disturb you. This is Ali Habib ... no, nothing at all is wrong. Misty and I are having a wonderful time at the boat house dance. Things are moving rather slowly here. There's to be a dance contest but there have been delays and we do want to stay and see if we can win ... That's right, and so we will be somewhat later than we planned ... no, do not worry, she is safe ... so you may start your night's rest and she will be home safe in her bed when you awaken in the morning."
He hung up and smiled at her, spreading his hands. "You could charm the birds out of the trees, couldn't you?" she said.
He laughed. "If I were hungry enough to want to cook them for dinner," he replied in a voice that made her shudder slightly.
They sipped from their glasses for a while, his pouring keeping them filled. He got another bottle and had just opened it when they heard a noise on the deck overhead.
"Ah," he said, pausing to listen, "the owner."
Misty squirmed in her chair, feeling uncomfortable. God, she would be in this boat with two Arabs and God knew what they'd do to her. She hoped that she wasn't expected to "thank" their host for the use of the yacht. She'd had just about enough fucking for one night ... well, perhaps not quite enough, but she did feel uncomfortable.
A moment later there were footsteps on the ladder and then a figure appeared. It was the owner, whose appearance made Misty gasp. He was a she, a dark and beautiful she who wore a peasant blouse and a flowered skirt. She was a swarthy and gorgeous thing with long black hair that fell to her bare shoulders. Her figure was ripe with heavy breasts that peeked over the top of her scoop-neck blouse, and hips that waved hello when she came down the ladder. She wore black slippers with laces that came halfway up to her knees.
She paused at the foot of the ladder, her hands on her hips, looking as though she were about to launch herself into a native dance in some Middle Eastern cafe filled with sweaty men in white linen suits and smoking funny cigarettes.
Ah called out. "Well, so you're here at last. We've been waiting to greet you."
She lifted her chin. "So I see. You have been waiting by getting out of your clothes. How friendly of both of you." She seemed resentful that they were in robes instead of being fully clothed, Misty realized. She had a throaty voice and an accent exactly like Ali's. She wondered if they had been friends in their homeland.
Ah was on his feet, gesturing. "Misty, this is Gypsy Mamol. Gypsy, I want you to meet my ... our new friend, Misty Sommer. We're all going to have a delightful experience together."
The woman named Gypsy swished over to Misty and briefly shook her hand in a mannish sort of way. Her dark eyes, glittering under heavy lashes, swept over Misty's face and figure as she gently pulled Misty to her feet for inspection. The two women looked at one another for a full minute, Misty realizing that Gypsy would be considered a gorgeous and exotic creature in any language. She was a dusky beauty with all the curves, the moves and the face to match. Misty couldn't keep from staring.
Ali's nervous laughter broke the spell. "You see, my two beautiful ladies, I told you both that you would be entranced with one another, and it is so, no?"
The women looked at him and it was Gypsy who spoke first. "You have told her?"
"About you?" he replied. "Yes, my dear. Misty knows that we are friends from the homeland and that we are friends at the college here, pursuing our studies together, often as one. We are all going to be great friends from now on."
"The friendly part," Gypsy persisted. "Did you tell her about that?"
AH cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed. "Ah, please, sit down, Gypsy. After all, this is your home. Please have some of your own champagne. Did you complete your seminar work at the college this evening?"
Gypsy accepted a glass and she drank it down in a single gulp. Her arm came out for more and he refilled her glass. Misty was feeling the drinks they'd had, the cocktails, the wines and now the champagne. Her head was beginning to whirl. Thank goodness, she thought, that she'd had some food to help fill her tummy.
Gypsy shrugged off the question about her evening seminar. Then she casually put her glass aside, stood and began to remove her clothing. Misty stared as she crossed her hands at her waist, grasped her blouse, and pulled it over her head. Her dark hair went every which way and her deep brown breasts, beautifully full things with brown nipples, bounced into view.
Misty's eyes widened and she glanced once at Ali for some sort of an explanation, but he was merely smiling as he enjoyed the view.
It was quite a sight as the Arab woman tossed her blouse aside. She looked down at her breasts, gently tucking her hand under one and lifting it an inch or two. It was a wonderful breast, so earthy, so plump, so young and filled with passion. Misty envied the woman her tight yet voluptuous body.
Gypsy walked over to Ali and looked into his face. Then, her hand still lifting her breast, she thrust it toward him. He licked his lips and Misty could see perspiration shining on his upper lip.
"Very nice," he muttered, his voice tight, as it had been earlier with Misty.
She half smiled into his face. "So, you are not ready to partake?"
He shook his head. "I'll watch for a few minutes, if you don't mind." However, he did place his fingers on the breast and then he bowed so that his lips briefly brushed against the nipple. If this turned Gypsy on, she gave no sign.
Instead she came to Misty, still offering the breast. She held it under Misty's face, smiling into her pale blue eyes, her dark look a startling and exciting contrast. "And you, my new and beautiful friend. Are you not interested? You have enjoyed my hospitality here on my yacht up to now. Now we should know one another better on a personal basis."
Misty gulped. "Oh, well, I don't know about that. Uh, what did you have in mind?"
The flirting dark eyes flicked down to the breast. "Why, what I am holding in my hand, of course. Do you not think it is beautiful?"
"Well ... yes, of course. It's very lovely."
"Then...? "
Misty didn't know what she was supposed to do. She knew that things were tearing loose once again inside her body, that her juices were beginning to flow. Really, this was so out of Arabian Nights that she was turned on. She could feel a moistness start in her pussy, and soon juice was running down the insides of her thighs. She pressed her legs together with the robe between them to soak up some of the passion nectar.
"Perhaps I can examine you," Gypsy said. "From what I have been told by our enthusiastic friend here, you have a figure that is at least as perfect as mine."
Misty shook her head, taking a step back until once again her ass came up against the back of a couch. "Oh, I doubt that, Gypsy. You have a lovely body, from what I've seen. It's no contest between us."
"I will be the judge of that," the dark woman said, plucking at the bodice of Misty's robe, then lowering her hands until she'd opened the sash. The robe drifted open and Misty's breasts swam into view, lovely, white, pink of nipple, high and hard.
Gypsy's gasp filled the room. "Ah, I have seen many American breasts since my arrival in your country, but none to match these. You indeed have two possessions you can be proud of."
Misty flushed, even the roots of her hair tingling. "Well, I don't know what to say. You are very...."
The two Arabs laughed at Misty's discomfort and Ali sat down, making himself comfortable. Misty looked down at her naked breasts and then at Gypsy's mounds. Yes, hers were every bit as good. But she thought it was silly to compare their two bodies. Childish.
She shook her golden head, puzzled. "I wish I could understand what you're trying to do," she said. "I mean, Ali and I are on a date and it's kind of you to offer the use of your yacht. But I don't understand...."
Gypsy lifted her breast until it was right under Misty's nose, and then the dark woman snapped, "Stop this insane prattle. Kiss it at once!"
CHAPTER TEN
Misty stared into the dark eyes and then she lowered her face. She kissed the nipple, pleased to hear the hiss of pleasure come from Gypsy's lips. She pulled the nipple into her mouth and, when Gypsy fluttered her eyes with satisfaction, Misty was amazed for an instant. Her own hands were going into action without any signal from her brain.
Misty was reaching down, even as she sucked on the nipple, and she was working at the other woman's skirt. She opened the zipper at the hip and it peeled away from the belly of the dusky beauty. As the skirt sagged Gypsy kicked off her sandals. An instant later the skirt fluttered to the floor. Immediately after that Gypsy swiped at Misty's robe and it also fell to the floor of the yacht.
Misty gasped as she allowed the breast to pop out of her mouth. She leaped back, naked, seeing that Gypsy also was totally without clothing. The two women looked at one another like a couple of beautiful Amazon wrestlers, their faces wary, their hands half thrust forward as though to ward off any blows.
Ah remained in his chair, sitting back, wearing his robe, and enjoying yet another glass of champagne. He looked like a spectator at a match, eager to see which adversary would make the first move.
Gypsy suddenly dropped her hands. "This is stupid," she remarked. "We must be friends, lovers, is it not so?"
"You and me, lovers?" Misty blurted. "I don't know. That seems sort of kinky."
"What is kinky? All life is kinky, if you so want it to be, is that not so?"
She left Misty speechless as she moved close once again. Again she fondled Misty's breasts, rubbing her fingers over their creamy skin and examining the nipples. "You American girls with your pink nipples. So strange."
Gypsy's were much darker, of course, and they seemed more beautiful to Misty than her own. She helped herself to the goodies, playing with the dark breasts until she saw that Gypsy was very worked up. Her lips were open, her breath was coming faster and her breasts were swelling as they lifted.
The two women played with one another's breasts for several minutes, until Misty felt another hand. She looked back over her shoulder. Ali was behind her, his robe gone, his prick standing straight out from his naked body. He was running his hands over Misty's bottom, dipping between her cheeks and moving his fingers up and down her crack.
Oh, but that felt so good. Misty's eyes fluttered as she reveled in the hands at ass and breast. Oh, so much attention, from two people at the same time. Her hands dropped to her sides-as the two worked her over.
Hands roamed her belly and dropped between her legs to rub the insides of her thighs. Then they came up and brushed across her golden nest. She almost fell when he pressed firmly against her cunt lips and a finger began looking for the hole. God, they moved so fast. They didn't believe in very much foreplay.
Misty loved it. Luckily, she heated up very fast and her body was ready for them. They massaged her from head to toe, moving her to a short couch and lying her down on her back. They knelt over her, their hands playing her like four hands playing a piano.
She responded with a little sex music of her own, going off in a short series of spurts that preceded a major orgasm which soon would tear her apart. They continued touching her everywhere, worming in her ass, up inside her cunt, until she began to grope for them.
She found a pussy and she immediately rammed as much of her hand as she could up into its depths. She was happy to hear a squeal of satisfaction from the owner. She also found a stiff prick and she started pumping it violently, also pleased to hear another exclamation of satisfaction. Then she felt her final swelling.
Her breasts were on fire. Her ass was tingling and her pussy was trying to turn itself inside out. She gasped as convulsions ripped through her crotch and a great gush of musky stuff issued from her body. She felt lips down there, lapping at her nectar, slopping it like a starving person soaking up broth.
Then she felt the pussy she was massaging begin to go crazy. The thing was going off in her hand. In the next instant the prick was exploding, swelling and shooting jizz all over her hand. They came time after time, crying out, squealing for joy, letting go with all the power they had.
They were all making it together, but it finally had to end. They all collapsed in a slippery, heaving heap, gasping for breath, writhing, rubbery, with no strength left. Misty lay quietly under the warm bodies, feeling lucky that her mouth was uncovered so that she could breathe.
After several minutes they came back to life, their bodies shifting. An eye opened a few inches from Misty's and it winked at her. She winked back. Then somebody rolled off her, thudding to the floor. Then another body moved and Misty at last was able to sit up and observe the damage.
Her new friends looked like victims of a bomb blast, their bodies bent at impossible angles. But gradually they gathered themselves together and soon they all were able to stand.
It was Gypsy who finally murmured. "I think we have to use the bay. We'd never fit in the shower, not all at once. And there isn't enough hot water, anyhow."
They crept out on deck, huddled together in the darkness, taking their robes and large towels with them. Then they leaped over the side, into the chilly water of the bay, in a series of splashes. Misty went under, groping in the murk, and finally returning to the surface before her lungs burst. The others were paddling about, rubbing one another's bodies, seeking to get themselves reasonably clean.
They played a few erotic water games, goosing one another, reaching for breasts, a penis, a pussy here and there. Then they were back on the boat, drying themselves. As they slipped into the robes, Misty collected herself. This was crazy. She had to end it for the night.
"I've got to go home," she announced.
Their faces fell, but she realized that if she broke her house rules too badly she wouldn't be allowed out with Ali again. So they all dressed quietly, piled into his Mercedes and drove Misty home. Along the way she and Ah French kissed some, but Misty was suddenly so tired. She wanted to sleep for a week.
They pulled up in front of Misty's house quietly, because it was very late. Even though Ah had called Mrs. Sommer to plead for a later coming home time, Misty knew that her parents would be worried. She placed her hand on the car door handle and turned to her two friends next to her.
"Well, it's been an experience," she murmured.
Ah, behind the wheel, nodded and smiled in the half darkness. "We shall meet once again soon-all of us."
Gypsy was still turned on, and as Misty twisted her body toward her, the Arab woman touched her face. She then ran her hands down over her chin and throat to her breasts. She was busily trying to reach inside and when she at last cupped a breast and began to pinch a nipple Misty knew she had to pull away. She did it with reluctance.
"Please. I love it, but I've got to get inside." She stroked Gypsy's cheek. "If I don't, they'll come parading out here in a minute and then it really will be all over."
Gypsy withdrew her hands from Misty's bodice with a sigh. "Ah, but you are such a sweet thing. I could take you to my home in Arabia and hide you away in the big house forever. Please, think about it. You'd never have to do anything like work in your life. We could be like loving sisters, equal in every way."
Misty gently kissed the dark woman on the mouth. Then she shook her head as she got out of the car. She closed the door as softly as she could and then she watched it pull away. She had a strong feeling that she'd see them both again.
She turned and went toward the house, digging for her key. She crept up on the porch and opened the door. There was a light burning at the top of the stairs. Otherwise everything was in darkness. She crept up the stairs. When she reached the landing, her mother came out of her parents' bedroom, tying a robe about herself. She looked very sexy, her good figure molded by the clinging robe.
She waited for Misty to reach her and then she kissed her briefly on the cheek. "Did you have a good time?" she whispered.
Misty nodded.
"Your father is upset. He's wondering about that man who picked you up. Where did you meet him?"
"I told you. At the beach."
Mrs. Sommer made a face. "Anyhow, your father is going in to the office early and he wants you to come downtown. He wants to ask you about that man."
Misty felt her heart squeeze slightly as she stared at her mother.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Misty kissed her mother good night and crept to her room. She slipped inside and closed the door behind herself, leaning against it for several minutes while she caught her breath. God, what a day, what a night, what a week. She'd leaped into the sexual life with a vengeance, going crazy at the sight of a cock or a pussy. She smiled to herself. What had happened to the naive virgin she'd known only a few days before? Well, her brother Jerry had started it. They had started it, really. They both had been vulnerable.
She turned on the reading light over her bed and got out of her dress. She tossed it aside and started for the bathroom. A faint scratching stopped her. She froze, looking at the door. Oh, oh, her father had awakened and he was going to give her hell right now. She went to the door and leaned her ear against it.
"Who is it?"
"Me."
She turned the lock and opened the door a crack. "It's late and I don't have any clothes on."
"Terrific. Let me in."
Misty knew she had lost a great deal of her modesty when she didn't hesitate another second. She let her brother into her bedroom when she didn't have on a stitch of clothing. And she felt her fatigue dropping away like the taking off of a heavy blanket.
Jerry came in and she quickly locked the door behind him. She leaned against the door, one hand over her breasts, the other over her cunt. He stood, staring, wearing his pajama bottoms and nothing else. He grinned at her.
"You look sort of like you've been through a war," he said with a faint smile. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, but she touched her hair, exposing her breasts in the process. "I guess I look a sight, but I've just been busy, that's all."
"I'll bet you have. That Arab guy looked like he was ready to play ball."
Misty suddenly giggled, stifling her voice as best she could. "We played a doubleheader."
He nodded as he stepped closer to her. "I've missed seeing you, kid sister. It's been a couple of days for us, you know."
It was her turn to nod. "I know, but I've been awfully busy. And, if I'm going to fool around, it's much better if I do it with people who aren't members of my own family. You know what I mean."
He reached for her and she felt her body move toward him, even as she protested. "No, Jerry. It isn't right."
"In a pig's ass it isn't right."
He grasped her shoulders, kissing her roughly on the mouth. She twisted her face away, protesting, "I'm tired."
He let go, peering down into her face. "What" did you guys do all night? Do you realize it's almost two in the morning?"
She shook her head, twisting her face away. "We started with two and ended up with three. It was quite a party, champagne and everything."
"Three? Everything?" he asked, a half smile on his face. "It sounds like I missed some excitement."
"You did. One of his girlfriends showed up at the yacht. It turned out to be her boat, a big thing docked on the bay. It ... um, works very well as a party place."
"Arabs, champagne, yachts, women," he breathed. "I really do feel left out."
He took her shoulders, pulling her against him and she felt his prick poking against her right through his pajamas. He was like a stone, heavy and hot. She could feel dampness from the end of his prick. He was secreting, getting ready for sex.
She lifted her face and he kissed her directly on the mouth, his tongue coming straight out to lance into her throat. She bit down gently on the tongue as a way of welcoming its intrusion. Then he ran his hands down her back until he was cupping the cheeks of her ass. He lifted her up on her toes as he threw his crotch into hers. His prick was like a naming sword, hot, heavy, sticking her everywhere it touched.
She gasped as her temperature began to rise. He really know how to make her hot in a hurry, and she loved him for this. He had been her first and he certainly was not going to be her last, but he was among her best. She shoved her tongue forward, into his mouth so that she could count his teeth and then plunge her tongue into his throat. He sucked on it, taking as much of the tongue as she had to give.
His hands went into the crack of her ass, kneading, pushing, goosing her so thoroughly that she wanted to whimper for joy. He was so satisfying to be with. He ran his hands down over her cheeks and between her legs. He went directly for her pussy, plunging his hands into her fur. Misty tried to bring her legs together, protesting.
"Jerry, I love you and all that, but this is a sin, isn't it?"
"Hell, no. It's terrific."
"But I'm tired. I've had enough sex for one day."
"I know you, sister. You'll never have enough sex until the day you die. You're loaded. You were put here to fuck a hungry world."
She sighed as he pressed her thighs apart and his hands planted themselves on her cunt. She then was hot all over again, gasping as he shoved his hands up inside her body. God, he didn't waste any time. He was up in the heart of her in a matter of seconds.
She sighed and went limp, allowing him to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the bed. He tossed her down so that she bounced, her breasts flying, her hips jerking. Then he was down over her, kneeling over her body. She reached for his pajamas, untying the drawstring and pulling them down over his hips.
There was his cock, out, hot, heavy, turning pink, its single eye dripping a clear fluid. She peered closely at it, her eyes slightly crossed. "God, you do have a cock and balls, dear brother."
He chuckled and then he gasped as she wrapped her fingers around his testicles. She rolled them back and forth, squeezing as firmly as she dared without hurting him. He began to tremble as she caressed his balls for several minutes.
Then her hands moved to his prick and she wrapped her fingers around it. He knelt, not moving, as her hands moved up and down his rod. She was pumping him as though she were coaxing water from a well, but this well was going to gush forth something a lot more precious than water.
He kept working at her pussy, his finger nipping in and out, running across her erect button until it was standing up like a tiny penis. He strummed it until it was vibrating with pleasure.
"Oh, God...! " Her voice ripped the heavy stillness in the room.
"Sh!" he warned. "They'll hear us."
She clamped her mouth shut as he wrapped his finger around the button and pulled. Her hips came up off the bed with his pull, so that her body made itself into a firm bridge, a span that vibrated with tension.
In a few more seconds she was ready to come, and she reached for his head, wrapping her fingers into his hair and jerking with sexual spasms. "Jerry, I'm ready!"
"Me, too," he gasped.
Then he was shoving her knees apart, dropping his pajamas to his ankles and slipping his body between her thighs. She spread her legs wide, let him settle all the way down, and then she began to pull in, drawing him to her like a spider luring a fly into the center of its net.
He placed his knob on her cunt and shoved hard. It slipped inside at once, that same firm fit her brother provided that she'd come to know and love. He slipped several inches in as she locked her ankles behind his hips and really drew him down with great pressure.
It was only a few seconds before he pumped and she began to spurt. Jerry was hot and ready, too, frustrated from waiting to get at his sister once again. His prick was going off like a Roman candle, flooding her with jizz that boiled like something brought up from the center of the earth. They lurched, gasped, and heaved together, their bodies first as tight as drawn bows and then gradually relaxing as they shot their bolts.
Soon they were finished. Keeping very quiet, Jerry lay at her side for a while, whispering. "You're still the best fuck I've ever had."
Misty smiled as she kissed him on the nose. She wanted to say as much back to him, but she'd had so many partners of late that she wouldn't be certain that she was telling the truth. "You're no slouch yourself," was all she could say.
He sat up, stretching. "Well, it's gonna be dawn if I don't get out of here pronto. Thanks again, kid. Anything I can do for you?"
"Yes. You can stop calling me 'kid' I think I've become a woman by now, don't you?"
He grinned as he touched her cheek. "Hell, yes. I owe you that much. See you, old girl."
He pulled up his pajamas and went to the door, unlocking it and slipping out into the hall. He closed the door and she went to it, locking it all over again. Then she cleaned herself up in the bathroom as soundlessly as she was able. She was so tired that she hardly remembered getting into bed....
The morning light hit her in the face for a long time before Misty opened her eyes and squinted into its brightness. She rolled over and slept for another half-hour before a tapping came at her door. She didn't want to hear it, and she pretended to herself that she was still sleeping. But it was no good, and at last she called out. Her mother's faint call replied, so she got up, staggering across the room. She let her mother inside and the two women looked at one another.
Mrs. Sommer studied her daughter for a full minute before she asked, "Misty, what's going on in your life?"
She shrugged, her breasts bobbing. Then he realized she was stark naked and she looked down at her body, flushing. "Oh, I was so sleepy last night I forgot," she mumbled.
"Well, you'd better start remembering. Your father is waiting for you at the office. He's got some questions for you, remember."
Misty sighed, making a face. "All right. I'm ready for the third degree."
Her mother sat on the side of the bed, watching as her daughter went to her dressing table and sat like a lump, staring into the mirror. "What happened last night?"
Misty looked at her in the glass. "Oh, I had a neat time. Ah really goes first class. We wound up on his friend's yacht, having a glass of champagne and ... well, just talking."
Mrs. Sommer looked up and down her daughter's body, making Misty very conscious of her gaze. "Look, my dear girl, we both know that you're like a time bomb waiting to explode. With your face and body no young man worth his salt is going to keep his hands off. How do you cope with that?"
Misty half smiled, all innocence. "I tell them I'm a virgin."
"And are you?"
Misty giggled as she got up and stood before her mother, her hands at her sides, her feet planted apart on the carpet. "Of course I am. Do you want to test me and find out for yourself?"
Mrs. Sommer flushed, getting up herself. "Of course not. I trust you to do the right thing.
Remember that, Misty. If you should give in to a man, it's not the end of the world. I mean, so long as no one is hurt, it's not the worst sin ever committed."
Misty came to her mother, touching her cheek. She ran her eyes down her mother's body very deliberately. She had a fine figure, a wonderful set of knockers and very good legs. Misty tentatively touched the tip of a breast through her mother's thin dress and the older woman jumped.
"Are you speaking from experience?" Misty asked.
Mrs. Sommer frowned, shoving the hand away from her body. "I don't understand."
"You say it's all right to run around getting laid. Is that what you do when you're supposedly downtown to lunch with your girlfriends? Are you really seeing somebody on the side? Don't look so shocked. I'm not. I think it's groovy, so long as you can handle it."
Misty was shocked, however, when her mother smiled. "You little minx. I should have known that I couldn't fool another woman, even though I'm sure your father doesn't suspect." She kissed Misty on the mouth. "You won't give me away, will you?"
Misty impulsively hugged the older woman. "Oh, Mom, I love you for being real. Why didn't you tell me sooner? I've been feeling so guilty. You should have told me all about it so I could have relaxed and had fun." To herself, Misty thought that she'd done a pretty good job of having fun. "You know, I might blackmail you once in a while to get what I want."
Her mother went to the door, laughing. "I wouldn't put it past you. Look, darling, you're blessed with great beauty, and I know I see hot passion in your every move. Enjoy them both, but just take care of yourself. Don't get into trouble with the wrong kind of people. All right?"
Misty went with her mother to the door and again they kissed. "You got it," she murmured, pushing Mrs. Sommer out of her room.
She sighed, gave a little laugh of wonder, and then she skipped into the bathroom where she brushed her teeth furiously to get the sour champagne taste out of her mouth. She then took a steaming shower, which she soon adjusted to needle points that were nearly frozen.
She leaped out tingling, rubbing her body with a rough towel until her skin glowed. God, she could feel her heat rising. She wondered if she dared try anything with her mother. Heaven knew the old doll was good looking enough, and she still liked to get her rocks off. She honed she was as good a goer when she was middle-ased.
She went back into the bedroom. Let's see, she said to herself. You're going down to see your father. You'd better look pretty straight. Still she wasn't going to lose any of her progress toward freedom. She decided that she didn't need a bra or pants.
So she slipped into a crisp cotton dress that had a scoop neck and zipped up the back. It was long enough and just high enough to be decent. If her father didn't approve, well, that was tough darts. She had her mother on her side now, and she fully agreed with the old girl's advice: Enjoy your good body and your passions, because they won't last forever.
She went downstairs and found Jerry in the kitchen, finishing his breakfast. She sat down across from him, helped herself to cereal and fruit and ate in crunching silence. He kept looking at her until she tilted her head.
"What's eating you?" she snapped.
"Mom said I'm supposed to give you a lift to Dad's office. What's going on?"
"Oh, he's going to ream me about staying out later than he liked last night. Nothing heavy. I can handle him. Mom and I are allies now."
He pulled down the comers of his mouth. "Good for you. Nice strategy."
She finished her meal and said goodbye to her mother. They were silent during the ride into the center of the city. As Jerry braked the Ford in front of a high-rise building, he touched her knee. "If he gives you a bad time, remember, I'm on your side, too. And I sure as hell don't think of you as a kid anymore."
Misty leaned over, kissing him briefly on the mouth. His tongue came out, but she avoided it, leaping out on the sidewalk. She hurried into the building without a backward glance. The lobby was busy, but not so busy that a number of heads didn't turn so that eyes could follow her progress. She lifted her chin and twitched her ass as she clipped her way in high heels and bare legs into the elevator.
She entered a crowded elevator and had to stand up front, just inside the door. There were more than half a dozen silent people waiting behind her. As she leaned over to touch the button for the twenty-second floor she felt a hand on her bottom.
She straightened and was about to move out of reach, when she realized not only that she couldn't, but that she didn't want to. She liked the feel of the hand on her ass, and when it came to life and gently slid up and down in her crack she liked it even more.
The little game was over all too soon as the cage silently stopped at the twenty-second level and she got out. She never turned around to see who her partner was. He would be a mystery forever, and years later she would think about that hand.
She approached the opened doors to the outer lobby of Blair and Beeker Securities, where her father was the senior accountant and just a half step below being invited to become the third partner of the firm. He'd been there for several years as the trusted first lieutenant for the two founders, who were about Mr. Sommer's age.
Misty went up to a blond desk where a striking redhead sat. She recognized her and, quickly searching her memory, she recalled her name. She smiled at the tall and shapely redhead. "Hello, Miss Adam."
The redhead looked up and quickly smiled back. She was a tall, flashy woman, about six feet, with flaming hair, green eyes, and a figure that could be described as sinful. Misty figured the partners wanted all the decoration they could get around the place.
"Well, Misty ... Miss Sommer. Forgive me, but it's been a while and you've positively grown up. You're a real young lady now."
Misty crinkled her eyes. She wanted to reply: You bet your hot ass I am, baby. Don't you forget it. I'm your competition from here on out. Instead she merely smiled.
"I think my father wants to see me."
The slinky secretary nodded. "Of course. Let me tell him you're here. I'm pretty sure he's in his office." She leaned over a little box and spoke, holding down a button. They heard Misty's father reply.
"You know the way in."
"Yes. What I'd like to know is the way out."
The redhead frowned. "Oh. No trouble, I hope."
"Well see soon enough."
Misty went past the blond desk and past a couple of office doors until she came to the one with her father's name on it. She went inside. He was behind his desk, frowning at her, his fingertips placed together. A pipe jutted from between his clenched teeth. He waved at a chair and she sat across from him.
"All right," he said, his eyes sweeping up and down her body. "So you're a big girl now. Have you lost your virginity?"
Misty gasped, feigning surprise. "Why, Daddy!"
"Come on. Don't play games. Has a young buck gotten into your pants yet? What about that Arab bastard? I'll bet he was hot to lift your skirts to your waist."
Misty stared, honestly shocked. Her father always had been so proper, so afraid to discuss sex with his daughter. She lifted her chin as she flushed. "I'm a lady, thank you. Just ask mother."
"I'm asking you. I think you'd better stay home after dark for a while." He glared. "You were three hours late getting home."
"Two," she corrected him. "And Ah called, saying I'd be later than midnight."
"I don't care what Ali said. Until I check him out and get a line on what you've been doing, you're going to stay in at night, so I can get some sound sleep."
"That's not fair," Misty wailed.
He picked up some papers. "I have work to do. Go on, get yourself home. We'll talk it over tonight. The jury is still out on you."
Misty flounced from the office, her cheeks burning, her ass twitching back and forth. She knew the eyes of her father followed her bobbing cheeks and she smiled when she knew he couldn't see her face.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Misty got back to the reception room she paused before Marie Adam, the tall redhead who occupied the blond desk. She leaned over the desk, dazzled by the spectacular body behind it.
Marie turned on a dazzling smile and Misty knew that the redhead knew that Misty was looking down the front of her dress. "How did it go in there?" the redhead asked, hooking her thumb toward Mr. Sommer's office.
Misty made a face. "Oh, he's worried about me, now that I'm a woman. I've grown up and he can't get used to the fact that men are after me. You know what I mean."
Marie nodded. "I know what you mean and, believe me, I love knowing that men are after me. It turns me on to know that I look good enough to be pursued by studs." Her green eyes dropped to Misty's breasts and crotch. "You must have them after you in bunches. You're a fine-looking young woman, Misty. You'll go a long way, if you play your cards right."
Misty opened her mouth to reply, when a door behind the receptionist opened. Out walked Mr. Blair, one of the partners in the investment firm. He was about forty with sandy hair and brown eyes, and he smoked a white pipe. Except for a little white at his temples, he looked very collegiate and very young. He stopped and broke into a smile when he saw Misty.
"Well, well, Misty. It's been a while since you've paid us a visit," he exclaimed, shaking her hand in both of his. "Dropping in on your old man?"
Misty nodded. "Something like that," she said rather sadly, although she was pleased at the warm welcome from one of the head men in the firm.
Mr. Blair raised his eyebrows. "Oh, oh, what's going on? Trouble in paradise?"
Marie looked at Misty with sad eyes. "Mr. Blair is a nice man," the receptionist said. "He knows how to listen." She turned her eyes to the partner. "Misty is having growing pains. She's a woman now and her dad doesn't want to recognize it. All us women go through it at some time in our lives."
"Ah," said Mr. Blair, "I think I understand." He gestured to Misty. "Come on inside and well talk. I'm famous for my broad shoulder when people want to cry on it."
"I'm not crying about anything," Misty snapped. "I know how to take care of myself."
"Sure you do," he replied, "but come on inside, anyhow."
He opened his door wider and Misty went ahead of him into his office. She didn't see him wink at Marie before he closed the door behind them, and she also didn't see him set the lock.
She stood in the middle of the imagine office, which was large, bright, with beautiful furniture and a couch and a bar in the comer. It was almost like an apartment, and she had to admire the good life that Mr. Blair led. She turned to look into his face. His eyes were dlrinking her in and he shook his head as he walked toward her.
"You've got a sha ... a figure that's certainly grown up. No wonder your father's worried about you. If I were your old man I'd hire a squad of Marines to guard you."
She made a face as she turned her back on him, walking to the windows to look down on the city. Far below she saw the crawling traffic looking like bugs on the move, ants traveling to and from the nest. Then she made up her mind about something and she turned, again catching him looking at her ass.
"Mr. Blair?"
"Yes?" His voice trembled slightly.
"Do I look like a mature woman to you?"
He sucked on his lower lip as he pretended to ponder her question. "Very much so."
She came to him, placing her palms flat against his chest. "Then prove it to me, and to yourself."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"You heard me."
He was a tall man and she had to stretch herself against him to reach his mouth. But she kissed him on the lips and held the kiss as she allowed her breasts to press against his chest. He didn't pull away, although he didn't exactly crush her in his arms. He did place a hand at each of her hips, very gently, enough to steady her. She broke the kiss and smiled into his face.
"Come on, you're more of a man than that."
He shook his head. "This is crazy. You're Jason's little girl."
Misty stamped her foot in frustration. "Let's get a few things straight, I'm an adult who knows how to fuck. It doesn't matter that my father is in the building. I'm not anybody's little girl. And, though I didn't see you do it, I'll bet you exchanged a look with Marie when we came in here and I'll bet you locked your door behind us. Do you want me to go over and find out for myself?"
Mr. Blair was smiling at last, his pretense stripped away. "As a matter-of-fact, I've been looking at your body for a couple of years, Misty, and I think it's about time you called me Henry."
She smiled and her arms slid up around his neck. She pressed her breasts and her crotch up against him, hard, grinding back and forth. He finally gripped his hands at her back and pulled her up on her toes. They kissed hard and her tongue played across his lips until he opened his mouth. Her tongue darted inside at once and zipped along his teeth. Then his tongue was there, shoving back, playing with her own teeth and trying to move between them. She opened her mouth wider and his tongue was inside, shoving toward her throat. She bit down on it slightly and heard his gurgle of pleasure.
They broke the kiss and he leaned back, looking down at the exposed tops of her breasts. "Christ, do you have a set of knockers. I've been wanting to get my hands on them for longer than you can imagine."
"Don't make me imagine any longer," she purred, her eyes fluttering at him.
He didn't. He shoved her a foot away from him and his hands dipped into the scoop neck of her dress, fishing out both breasts so that they bobbed over the top. He stared, his eyes bugging, as the pink nipples popped erect and her breasts began to expand. He touched each nipple with a forefinger and she hissed her pleasure.
Then he lifted each breast in a palm, weighing them like a fruit stand vendor. He smiled into her face and nodded. "I was right. They're perfect."
"They're not all that's perfect around these parts," she replied. "Come on, help yourself to some goodies."
Henry Blair looked like a man who had died and gone to heaven with an eternal limitless credit card as he walked around her body. He paused behind her and his hands went to her ass. He felt her cheeks. Then he lifted the back of her short dress and gasped.
"No pants! What a delight."
She purred as he again flattened his hands on her cheeks. Then he stole into the crack and she purred some more. Oh, that felt good and she was so excited. Just think, being seduced right in her father's office. It was a marvelous joke and an exciting way to get her first sex of the day.
Now Henry was lifting her dress to her waist and she raised her arms so that he was able to work it up over her breasts and over her head. It came off, and although she knew her hair was a mess, she also knew she looked very sexy. She wore nothing but high heels, and she posed for him, a knee thrust forward and a hand on her hip.
"Like me?" she said saucily.
"Shit, my dear," he replied. "Does a bee like honey?"
He pulled her against him and his hands crept down over her ass, kneading the cheeks, rubbing them, dipping into the crack and sliding down almost to her crotch. She reached back to grasp his wrist. "Easy, stud. Take it easy. You don't get to the main event that quickly."
So he took his hands away and moved them to her breasts, which he cupped lovingly. He leaned down to kiss a nipple, and Misty whispered, "Suck it into your mouth, you turd, or I'll stamp on your foot with one of my heels and go right through it."
Henry didn't need any coaxing. He pulled the nipple between his lips and he nibbled gently on the pink bud. Oh, God, but Misty loved that, and she rolled her eyes, fluttering them as she stroked his hair. She wanted to sag and have him catch her in his arms, but she wanted something else more. She wanted to prove that she'd turned into a tough woman and that she could handle even a sophisticated man like Henry Blair.
So she patted him on the head and purred, "Now suck the other one."
He did so dutifully, making gentle slurping noises in the office. She was beginning to tremble because it felt so good. He had her fully turned on, but she was finished turning into jelly under men's hands. She was going to be the one to turn them into jelly for a while.
She lifted his face, kissing him on the lips.
"You know, it's not fair. I don't have a stitch on, you know. And you're fully clothed. Doesn't that strike you as unfair, Hank?"
He didn't waste any time. He unbuttoned his jacket and shucked it off. Then he loosened his necktie and ripped it away. His shirt went next. He pulled his shoes off and kicked away his socks. Then his pants dropped and, when he was wearing only his shorts, she stopped him.
"That's far enough ... for now," she purred. "I think it's about time you paid some attention to my crotch. You kiss so beautifully, why don't you keep it up?"
He nodded like an eager child, and then he dropped to the carpet, his knees thudding. He wrapped his arms around her hips and pulled her against him. "God, I've been dreaming about seeing your pussy for so long," he breathed.
"Then you may kiss it hello," she purred, again stroking his hair.
He did kiss her, his mouth going into her bush. She smiled down on his half-buried face as his nose disappeared into her hairs. His lips pecked around until they found her lips. She shuddered and fought to keep her feet as he bit down gently on one of her lips. Oh, how she loved that. He was sending lightning bolts of electricity straight into her body, and they felt delicious. Her belly was churning and her breasts were filled with a sweet ache. She wanted to drop her load into his face in the worst way.
Now his face was centered over her hole and she stroked his head. "Go ahead. It won't bite back. Drink from my cup, my charming prince."
He drank deeply, his tongue coming out to lance around the rim of her lips and then to poke straight into her hole. It was like a pink and slippery prick as it plunged into her canal and wormed around until it found her little passion button. It worked back and forth across the button until Misty was close to going out of her mind.
She grabbed handfuls of hair and tugged with all her might, not giving a damn if she was hurting him. His tongue raked into her time after time until she couldn't hold it back any longer. She began to jerk, her hips doing a primitive dance as she lost control of her nerves and muscles. She shot her milk into his face, hoping she could drown him with her dripping passion.
He began to slurp noisily and she rammed her hips against his nose and mouth time after time, as daggers of passion slashed into her breasts, her belly, all through her crotch and all the way down her legs. She kept coming, wondering where all of her juices were being created. She'd given up so much milk the past few days.
She spurted on, seemingly a never-ending well of female milk, her musky odor filling the office. But, as all good things must, she finally began to run out, and her flow slowed. He kept sucking hard, obviously eager to get as much of her as he could into himself before she finally shoved his head away. He lost his balance and fell backwards to the carpet, where he lay on his back, staring up at her. Come was running down his chin.
She made a face. "Do you have a bathroom in here?"
He pointed and she went to it, and soaked a towel in hot water. She brought it back into the office and leaned down to wipe his face. Then she folded it and placed it in his "in" basket on his desk.
She stood over him, her legs spread and planted, her hands on her hips. "Well, now do you believe I'm a woman?"
He nodded, still gasping. "I told you. I've known you were a woman for some time, but I never realized how much female you really were. You're sensational, Misty."
"Thank you," she said, without warmth. She was loving this and, although she knew she was being cruel to him, she'd make it up to him later. For now, she was proving to herself that she was learning how to manage her sex, how to get as much out of it as her partners.
She pursed her lips. "Um, why don't you get Marie in here? She does fool around, doesn't she? I mean, you've gotten some ass off her in the past?"
"Yes," he said, looking down at his shorts. His stiff cock was pressing hard against his shorts and she liked that. For a change it was the man who was frustrated while Misty had gotten her satisfaction. She was curious about his prick, however, so she knelt over him and ripped open the front of his boxers.
His prick came leaping out like a horse leaving the starting gate at Belmont. It was a long and heavy tool, larger than most she'd seen. Its knob was winking at her, nodding and turning a deep pink. There wasn't a mark on his prick, not a scar, not a discoloration. Yes, Henry Blair had a very nice cock.
She pulled his shorts down, making him lift his ass from the carpet. When she'd whipped them away she touched his shaft, delighted to hear his gasp of passion and pleasure. "I guess you're ready for more action," she murmured.
He nodded as she pointed to the door. "All right. Get that six-foot sex box in here. I want her in on the fun. She's as hungry for me as you are."
Henry stared and started to say something, but she put her fingers on his mouth. "Just do it."
He scrambled to his feet, his prick waving like a fishing pole as he hurried to his desk. He picked up the phone and spoke into it. "Miss Adam, will you please come in here? The door is locked, but I don't want to go to the door, so please use your key. Thank you." He hung up the phone after speaking to his receptionist as crisply as though he were asking her to take a letter. He turned to Misty and they stared at each other. In a few seconds the door opened and they turned to look.
Marie Adam was in the entrance, but she didn't stare at their naked bodies more than a second. Instead she turned and closed the door at once, locking it. Then she was smiling at them, green fire flashing from her eyes.
"I imagined as much, so I got Katy to fill in for me at the desk. After all, we don't know how long I'll be in here, do we?" Her voice purred over them like that of a tabby cat, rich, low, filled with sexual overtones.
As they stared at her, Marie slowly began to get out of her clothing. She wore a shimmering green dress that she unbuttoned and stepped out of. Then she was pulling down her pantyhose as she kicked off her high heels. She wore pants which she also discarded at once, revealing her spectacular body to them in all its glory.
Marie was a real Amazon, a freckled Amazon with a ruddy redhead's complexion. She had heavy hard breasts which rode high on her body, flaring hips that looked strong enough to beat down any sex partner, and legs that seemed never to end. She was a woman to match anybody who wanted to mess around. She posed for them, letting them drink her in. Then her eyebrows came up in a question.
"Well, what's the drill, kids?"
Misty giggled with pleasure. "Hank just ate me until I went off. He's hot and bothered. And now you're here. That's as far as we've gotten."
"Not a bad start," Marie murmured as she came to them. She reached for Misty's wrist, pulling her around. Then she cupped her face in her hands as she kissed her full on the mouth, hard, using her height to lean down into Misty and make her raise her face to receive the kiss.
They broke it and Misty staggered. Lord, but this was a hell of a woman. She smiled as she pointed to the carpet. The redhead got the message, immediately falling to her knees. She beckoned and Misty came down with her. Then the three of them were on the floor together.
Misty reached for Hank's prick, grasping it and beginning to stroke the thing. As she did so Marie lifted one of Misty's breasts, testing it for size, weight and quality. It seemed to check out all right, because the next thing she did was to kiss it.
Misty purred as she leaned down to kiss one of Marie's plump breasts. Oh, it tasted of perfume. She loved women who put perfume on their knockers. She let herself tarry long enough to kiss the other nipple, and Marie stroked her golden head. Then Henry was groping, placing a hand on each pussy and squeezing their lips together.
Both women gasped as one as he began shoving his fingers up into their snatches, poking as deeply as he could to milk them of their juices. Soon they were a confused but efficient tangle of arms and legs, each doing its thing as they worked as a team.
Misty felt herself starting to go off all over again. Her pussy was trying to turn itself inside out. She kissed Marie and the redhead bit her tongue hard as Misty felt convulsions zip through the great freckled body. Then she felt the final hardening of Henry's cock. His tool stiffened and expanded under her hand. A second later he was leaping up and hurling Misty to her back.
He threw himself over her and his prick immediately plunged into her pussy, all the way, to the hilt. As he came into her, his hot sauce spilling out the sides, Misty reached for Marie, milking her with her fingers until the redhead was getting her rocks off.
It was all so beautiful. Misty laughed aloud as everyone came together. She knew that she'd grown up to love sex, to give it and to receive it. Her father would have to be made to know that she was a mature woman now.
Misty smiled a secret smile. She figured she knew how to make that happen.
