As much as mankind enjoys patting himself on the back for the huge technological and humanistic advances he has wrought since the time of his ascendancy on this earth, it can hardly be denied that Utopia is still a long ways off. Throughout our world, and particularly these United States, we find greed and envy continuously rearing their ugly heads.
In the plastic world of rock, we see the entertainers vying to outdo each other-to appear freakier, to write raunchier lyrics, to reap bigger fortunes. American sports, too, have become big business.
Thus it is small wonder that Terry Ladron, a former big-league baseball player who returns to his small hometown to teach after suffering some debilitating injuries, finds himself the target of envy and greed. Terry becomes all the more vulnerable for his loving and sensual nature, for his enemies see his erotic adventures as a tool to bring about his downfall.
But it is the very hypocrisy of his enemies which eventually allows Terry to triumph, and, in this case, to let love and kindness win out.
THE NYMPH SCHOOL-the story of one man who refuses to let the greed and envy around him bring him to ruin and corrupt his generous nature. A novel delving into the inner workings of some members in our society.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER 1
IT WAS A CASE OF GOOD NEWS AND BAD news for hard-cocked Terry Ladron, the new physical education teacher at Brandeis High.
The superintendent of the school district which included Brandeis had confirmed that Terry was to coach the girls' softball team. It meant that the old man liked him. It also meant an additional hundred dollars a month, which Terry, used to the very big salaries of major-league baseball, could use to bolster the rather low pay of a high-school teacher.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that, after his first supervisory workout of the girls' team, he knew he was going to fuck his shortstop.
And that might very well mean the whole ball game. After all, she was only fourteen. But he knew in his heart, in his mind-which was crowded and heated and corrupted by the girl herself-that he was going to fuck her. Now. This afternoon. Somewhere in the big old Victorian home he had inherited after his folks had died.
The house had seemed like a refuge to a guy who could no longer hack it in the big leagues and who needed time to think, to rest, to get his body back in shape.
Now, all of that resolve was gone. All he could think of was that tiny, delicious body, that youthful cunt with its long, narrow patch of hair that looked like a Mohegan scalp lock and seemed an awful lot of maturity for a fourteen-year-old to be wearing on her sweet little pussy.
Without touching the lace curtains that looped across the big bay window on his part of the house, he looked down the long drive. He was in khaki bush shorts and sandals, with a light knit shirt over his shoulders, the sleeves tied around his neck so it would look as though he had been working out.
But he wasn't kidding himself. He had the beginnings of a mighty hard-on, which the shorts helped camouflage. And in this rig, he could be naked in ten seconds.
He heard pattering footsteps and looked out again. It was almost too much.
The small, dark girl was like a miniature madonna, her body ripe for such a young kid, but scaled down to pint size. Her fast walk up the walk, her shirt, unbuttoned and with the tails tied around her middle, proved beyond a doubt that she had on no bra.
A bra, my ass, the big man thought. Who needs a brassiere for tits like that? These firm boobs were jouncing and jiggling so that the dark circles around the nipples showed at each step.
And she had on that same postage-stamp skirt she had worn into his office after the workout this afternoon.
Which was really when the trouble had started.
It hadn't been so bad during the brief practice. The girls wore their blouses, red satin with white trim, and their stretched shorts, and they played with abandon under the eyes of their new coach. He had seen a lot of smooth, bright skin, tanned under the Southern California sun all summer. A lot of beautiful legs, too. And tits of all sizes and kinds.
So he hadn't especially singled out the shortstop, except to note that she had great hands. She could go deep into the hole and make the impossible stop, and could get rid of the ball like a major leaguer, making the long throw to first or shoveling the ball to the pivot man-pivot man? With blonde curls and blue eyes and bulging boobs? Pivot girl, maybe.
No, he hadn't noticed the shortstop especially.
Of course, he had the details on her. The roster gave her name, Kitty Morales, her height and weight, five feet even, and ninety-nine pounds. Throws right, bats right. But the roster hadn't said anything about that flawless skin with a dusky pink showing in the browned cheeks. Or about the kid's eyes, so dark brown that they seemed purple. And certainly not that she was both emotional and affectionate.
She had bunted for a base hit, went to second on a ground-out, and scored on a looping single to right field. It had been a close play at home, too; the right ielder had some kind of an arm, and Kitty had made a perfect hook slide around the catcher's tag. Maybe it was his imagination, but Ladron could have sworn he saw, during that second when Kitty's stretch shorts had stretched to their uttermost, a flash of black hair, a puffy bit of cuntlip, a blink of red and shining gash.
And when he had called her "safe!", she had run to him with tears in her eyes and a smile on her sweet mouth, had hugged him so hard that those firm little boobs had bored into his belly, and had whispered: "Thanks, Coachie!"
Coachie? What the hell kind of talk was that? He'd have to put a stop to any suggestion of intimacy. That was why he had said to her in a stern voice: "See me in my office right after boys' team workouts, Morales!"
Now she was on his steps, coming across the porch to his front door, and his cock, swollen and sensitive for over an hour, suddenly felt dead. His mouth was dry, his heart was racing in a runaway beat. "Because you're scared, Ladron," he whispered to himself. "Scared of a fourteen-year-old kid."
But how much of a kid was she? When she came to his office, it was obvious she had had a shower. Her long, straight hair, so black it seemed to have blue highlights, was wet. Her lovely little face was scrubbed shiny, and was composed as if all her Inca ancestors had taken over for those who hailed from Spain. And she had had such a grown-up, wise look as she had said: "I know what it's about, and I apologize. I shouldn't have called you 'Coachie'. It was a stupid, childish thing to do. But I was sort of dizzy because I hurt myself. It'll never happen again!"
He had been touched, she had been so sincere. And she seemed like such a kid, no makeup, neat and clean and fresh.
Still, there had been that faint perfume, rising over the scent of soap. He had noticed it when she had hugged him, there at the ball park. The tangy scent of girl-sweat, of a warm and healthy body. If you stuck your nose into the belly button of a warm girl on a warm afternoon, you'd get a whiff of it. If you raised the covers from a hot woman lying on her back on a cold winter night, you'd get a bit of it, too.
It seemed incredible to call the vulva of a fourteen-year-old a cunt. But what he breathed in, both on the field and in his office, was pure essence of pussy, and the hell with the age factor. So he should have known better. But maybe he didn't want to heed that warning bell.
And, after all, the poor kid said she'd hurt herself.
His voice was soft and concerned, sitting there in his office chair, in his plain, institutional office. "Where did you hurt yourself, Morales-Kitty, I mean? It is Kitty, right?"
She had kept those purple-dark eyes fixed on his, moving close, closer, until she was practically between his knees, and had suddenly said: "Right here!" and raised that tiny skirt.
Christ on a bicycle! Under that garment she was naked as a jaybird's ass. He had never seen a cunt in a better light, or at much closer range, and she had deliberately raised her foot and placed it-stretched it, really-across the arm of his chair so that the lovely, warm little thing popped open.
And then, while his tongue was paralyzed and all his bones seemed turned to jelly, she had taken his near hand and pressed the fingers deep into her warm flesh, just where the fat cuntlips rise from the base of the belly, just where that great tendon comes from the thigh to join the pubic arch, and said, in a child's voice: "I think I tore something loose in there, Mr. Ladron. Can you feel anything there?"
Somehow, as she herself leaned down to take a look, showing her taut titties in the open white shirt, he got his wits and his voice back, and took his fingers out of that warm, dangerous area. He even managed to laugh easily-he hoped it had sounded casual-as he stood up. And he had been cool.
"Sorry, Morales," he said. Looking back, he may have been short of breath. "I'm not the school nurse or the team doctor. You better get them to check you out."
And she had made him feel like a complete fool.
She hadn't stammered or apologized or acted defensive at all. Not little Kitty Morales. She had dropped the skirt, moved toward the door with her poker face unchanged, until at last, with her hand on the knob, she had smiled very faintly.
"I don't think I need professional help, Mr. Ladron," she had said very low. "When I was just a little kid, and got hurt, all I ever needed was for my father to kiss the place and make it well. I guess I was wrong to make a father figure out of you. Unfair, I mean!" And she was gone.
He sat down at once. His knees were a bit rubbery, and he had such a hard-on that it was more comfortable sitting down. And he checked her out with the principal's office. Best scholar in the tenth grade. Never a rap of any kind against her-no smoking grass, no sex problems, not even smoking tobacco. But not an angel, either. She had talked back to Mr. Adamson, the principal, the file showed. Words like "willful" and "defiant" had been scratched out, however, and, in firm but feminine-looking script, a note amended the charge. "Kitty was upset," the note said. And it was signed by the vice-principal, a sweet-faced woman, his teacher when he was in high school.
And the girl had no father. He had been killed in a cave-in along the sandy bluffs above Sonar Beach when Kitty was nine.
The old-fashioned doorbell brought Terry out of his brief trance of flashing memory, but not so far that he forgot how that girlish body had looked with the miniskirt up to the tiny waist.
They looked at each other, the young girl and the grown man, and somehow, without words and in spite of the rank and confusing things that had happened, each read the other plain and clear.
Her eyes were on Terry as they had been in his office, but now she was moving toward him without wariness, and his arms were opened to welcome her.
He kicked the door shut with his foot as she seemed to flow against him, and over her shoulder, he shot the bolt.
Terry had wondered how he would start things, how long it would take to get the crap out of the way, because, after all, he had been the one who had fouled things up in the office. Not that he could have fucked her there in any case. No teacher's door had a lock inside the door. And, sure as hell, no teacher's office had a couch, or even a thick rug. But he need not have wondered. Something in him had heard something in her, and the reaction was out of his hands, really.
They seemed to melt together, the man of thirty-three and the girl of fourteen, and her shirt came up so that her titties were warm against his naked torso. There was some sort of humid heat between them; he felt it through the heavy fabric of his shorts as he picked her up. Ninety-nine pounds! And every ounce of it seemed sweet and hot as she rubbed gently against him.
He was thinking of the big bed in his room upstairs with its sheets so crisp and fresh, the air so fragrant and dry and warm on this September day. But he could not wait. And neither could the girl.
Something was moving between them even as his big tongue went in-was sucked in, really-to frolic and wrestle with her tongue. This was more fun than any kiss Terry had had since he was sixteen-so quick and so innocent, so hot with promise, so sweet with the clear spit and fragrant breath of the young kid.
Kitty's hands were working; they found his belt buckle even while her sharp, sweet tongue was getting into the softness between his cheek and his gums, driving him happily nuts. His shorts fell off, and that big, hard cock must have come right up between the girl's small but beautifully rounded thighs, for he felt something slippery, wet and heavy enough to bend that rigid staff down painfully.
Terry had decided he would fuck her-must fuck her-an hour ago, when she had called him and contritely asked if she might come by and apologize for what she had done to him in his office.
"You can come by," he had said. "But if you apologize, I'll wallop your beautiful little ass," he had growled, and his heart had leaped at the hot note in her voice.
"And if I come by, and don't apologize, you'll do something to it, won't you? To my, uh, what you just said?" And the little bitch, the wonderful, forthright, affectionate, hot little bitch had let out a giggle,-a gasping, frightened, pleading giggle.
It was incredible that they were both completely naked in hardly more than two minutes after he had opened the door. And it was equally incredible that they paid absolutely no attention to anything except the insistence of each body. All of a sudden, Terry Ladron was on his side, holding the tiny girl by the arms, looking into her eyes, looking at her fiercely smiling face, looking at her unbelievably beautiful tits, at the smoothness of her belly, the dark slash of pussy hair.
And she, with two hands soft as only a young girl's hands can be, was holding his cock, pulling the loose skin toward her, pushing it back, gently but with the perfect touch of sensitive strength.
"I love this," Kitty said. "I love this so much!" She wriggled away from him, as active and slippery as an eel. He saw the shine of sweat on her and knew he was sweating, too. He saw the tufts of hair under her arms, and loved it. These kids of today, he thought, how they insist on what is natural!
He reached for her to get his hands under those girlish armpits, to hold her young boobs, and felt a shock of strong, slippery-warm heat on his cock.
He groaned with joy and perhaps with fear as he realized that this child was sucking his cock. But even if he hadn't decided, it was too late to stop her.
All he could do was pry her legs apart, bury his mouth in the sweet slit between the hairy cuntlips, and jam for her clit, for every sweet and tender spot in that young cunt. He wanted to suck that fragrant, faintly salty juice that was coming out of this childish twat in a warm, sweet stream.
It was all a part of a happy dream. He had been horny ever since he had come home. After all, who makes arrangements for solid fucking during the first week of getting settled into a completely new life? His cock had ached with desire, with undischarged fuck-power, since his first morning back in his old home. He had even had a wet dream the morning before. Thirty-three years old, and a wet dream!
He whispered into the wildly pulsating, richly flowing pussy: "Oh, baby, you're for me! Give it out, baby! Turn yourself wrong side out! OH JESUS!" he shouted, as he felt his orgasm start in a shattering burst of feeling, in his balls, up his distended tubes, in the nerve-raw head of his cock. "Oh, my God! Suck me, Kitty! Suck my cock dry!"
It only made a very little noise, for his mouth was plastered against her sweetly spread cunt flesh. The small but strong kid was fucking against his mouth as if she would never quit coming. Her arching back, moving that sweet little cunt up and down on his sucking mouth, kept her pussy jammed on him as if it had grown to his tongue. It was beautiful, a beautiful way to make his own surging come even more thrilling, more deeply satisfying, as he shot his sperm into her hot little mouth....
CHAPTER 2
AFTER SHE STOPPED THE WILD HAMMERING of her juicy little pussy against his face, he let her go, conscious for the first time of how hard his hands had gripped her, actually holding her to him as he had sucked her cunt out.
She stayed on her side, but her thighs were now together, and the straight brush of pussy hair now seemed pinched into a point where her legs snuggled together. And Ladron said quietly: "That was lovely, Kitty. Just lovely. How can a girl your age have so much feeling?"
Terry jumped slightly as he felt her pull his softening prick out of her mouth, and was aware that she had been sucking him so gently that his sensitive cockhead, usually painfully tender after orgasm, had not telegraphed any sensation except warm pleasure. It seemed to him that the child's voice had deepened as she answered throatily: "What's age got to do with it?"
With the smell of her cunt all around him, with the taste of it on his lips and tongue, he had no answer. There was no doubting her physical maturity. He was where he could see everything except her face, and her body, while small, was all woman.
He put his arms around the widest part of this lovely body, around her hips, letting his long-fingered hands slide down over the smoothness of her divided butt, not surprised that an overflow of cum should have slicked every inch in that warm crevice. In a burst of delayed fuck fever, he put pressure on the crack of her ass, pulling the cheeks wide apart, and grinned with his own satisfactions as the girl cried out in alarm: "Hey, what're you doing to me, Mr. Ladron?"
Her thighs had opened again, and, while he had no further plans to eat her pussy again, he shifted his thumbs and held the soft, thick lips open, delighted with the red cluster of inner lips, so slick with his spit and her cum.
"Maybe I'm planning on sticking my prick right up your sweet little ass," he growled, and the young girl squealed in a mixture of fear and delight. She pushed his thighs open and got her face right into his hairy crotch. Suddenly, he felt a new, delightful warmth-she had taken his balls into her mouth, and was tonguing them gently.
For her reward, he licked deep into every warm convolution of her inner cuntlips, being very gentle with her. He allowed himself the full enjoyment of the tactile slickness, the richness of taste and odor, and of the child's quick response.
Terry did not want to send her into another orgasm just yet, for he was determined to accomplish that service with his prick. After all, cunt-lapping was a pleasant pastime for him, and it brought most women to a climax as full and twisting and cum-flowing and fun-screaming as a straight fuck.
But still, there was something about putting it in, something about holding the hairy cuntlips apart with your fingers, slowly shoving the hard cock into the slick, warm, mildly resisting membrane and muscle, watching the girl's face as your cock struck the fun-places inside her snatch, listening for her gasping breath. And then, when it was all the way in, rubbing against her cervix, stretching the sheath at its end, feeling the slide and grip of her inner muscles, it was wonderful to grab both her tits and squeeze them until pain and pleasure met in her belly and in the deepest nerve centers of her cunt, so that she fucked and screamed and fucked again, helplessly, riding up and down your cock, eyes closed, totally pleasured, totally out of her mind.
That was what Terry wanted for himself and this young girl, so unexpectedly ripe for sex, so unexpectedly talented. Just a real big fuck, all good, all powerful.
There was a sense of coolness around his balls; he knew she had released them from her mouth. He wanted to take his time getting his cock recovered into full hardness. He gently locked his thighs around the girl's face before she could move, his balls at her collarbones, his prick just beginning to grow thick again, between her titties.
"Hey, hold it, Mr. Ladron!" he heard her protest. "I can't get my breath!"
He laughed and pressed again on the insides of her asscheeks, watching how her tiny, puckered asshole seemed to wink. He reached down briefly to squeeze her hard little titties around his tool. The girl's laugh came up to him and she put her hands where his had been, pressing her boobs hard and tight against his dong.
He only wanted this for a moment, to give her a foretaste of what would eventually come as he plunged his slick face, shiny with sweat and her cunt flow, into the cleavage of her ass. He rammed his tongue against the tightly held ring of her shitter, then opened his mouth and brought his teeth down across the tender circle until he felt the vibration of the girl's scream against his own hairy bunghole. Then, with tender deliberation, he placed his mouth over her small brown asshole and sucked at it, feeling the first inch or so of trembling flesh open up so his tongue could rim its sensitive nerves. He released her quickly, all of her, and turned her around, facing him, her face looking pleased but frightened.
"What's the matter, Morales?" he joked. "First time you ever got your asshole -rimmed?" He kissed her on the mouth, not giving her a chance to set herself against the stupid taboo that one's asshole is vile and dirty. "If you taste anything odd, it's right out of your pretty ass," he laughed, and the girl, laughing, buried her face in his chest.
"It tastes kind of strong," she said in a low voice. "More like my pussy, though."
"You know what your pussy tastes like, then?" he teased her. "Well, why not? It's a sweet place." He moved her up, getting his strong hands under her arms, and said: "Mmmm, that reminds me!"
He ducked down and got his face under her arm, chewing at the little mat of hair. His cock leaped as he inhaled the strong scent of hot sweat from her armpits.
The girl pushed at his head, giggling nervously. "Get out of there!" she whispered. "I sweat a lot. I must really be ripe under there-it's a hot day, and I jogged all the way here!"
He wiped his face back, across her ribs, across her tit, laughing. "It's wonderful, Kitty," he said honestly. "Don't you know that woman-smell and woman-taste are hot?"
The girl clasped his head to her boob, and he could hear the rapid beat of her heart. "I guess it's natural," she whispered. "I know that your smell-your-well, down there," she said in confusion. "It sort of gets it together for me." She took a free hand and rubbed it tenderly down his belly, around the hair bushing up around his cock, and down along the trough formed by the juncture of thigh and body. He felt her fingers slip in the gathered sweat, and she rubbed there for a minute, without words. It was an incredibly suggestive thing and once more he felt the awakening throb of his cock.
Terry had made no effort to penetrate her, not even with his fingers, but suddenly he felt an immense, aching need to force his expectant cock into her dainty twat. It was hard, now, really hard, and he felt her small hand encircling its big, hairy base. He felt a slow pressure of soft fingers riding up his prick.
He had to fuck her!
But, his mind said, this girl is only fourteen....
So what? Hasn't she answered that? "What's age got to do with it?" A very good question; a very good answer.
He kissed her, sucking gently at her tongue which had come to meet his, and heard her crooning a thin, begging note of lust. Her hand on his cock was insistent. She had thrown one leg across his hips so that her pussy was wide open.
He reached down and rubbed gently in the wetness, the softness of the opened flesh, and her body bucked, her leg over his hip tightened. She knew what she was doing, no doubt of it, and his resolve hardened along with his dick.
"Try to work the head of it into you, Kitty," he said, his breath catching in the beginning of a triumphant laugh. "Easy, now, baby. Just get it partway in, get hooked onto it. I'm not going to shove it in. I want you on top!"
"No, not that way!" the girl cried. "I want you on top. Please! Please, Mr. Ladron! Do it that way!"
She was holding his cock so that it was just inside the portal of her cunt. It was tight, but he had expected it to be. More important, there was a trembling in the ring of muscle which keeps a woman's cunt closed against air and dust and all sorts of intrusions-except fingers and cocks. And tongues. It was a very evident trembling, which was simply great. He would almost have been content to leave his cock right there and let the nibble of girlish muscle bring his load shooting out into the handful of lips and hair and scented flesh.
He laughed. "I wanted to be able to hold your sweet little tits," he said. "I'm too tall for you. With me on top, we can't even kiss while we're coming!"
The girl dragged at his cock, pushing her body against it, and he felt an inch of it slip in, into an insistent warmth that seemed intent on sucking his tool in deeper. "Please," she whispered, giving her small body a pumping motion toward him, giving his cock, now wrought up to a high pitch, a hard grip. Without a word, he rolled over, holding himself high above the perfect, tiny figure with his arms braced and his loins held above the girl's body by his knees. Her eyes opened and he was touched by the tremulous smile on her face. Experienced or not, he would gamble she hadn't done too much of this. She had some sort of bug in her ass about fucking the coach. A bet with some other girl, a shrewd desire to cinch her place on the team. Whatever it was, she had won, thus far. He was fucking her.
Or he would be in a minute. But she was frightened, that was obvious.
"Get your knees up," Terry ordered. "Pull them away up, back to your chest. There, that's right. See what it does? Opens you right up.'"' His cockhead was still in her gash; the shift of her ass had put a delicious, soft pressure on his big glans, just out of sight in the little pink cluster of pussy flesh. "Don't be scared."
"I didn't realize you would be so-big," Kitty grunted, trying to move her body. "Hey, can I hook my legs around your arms? It's hard on my back, holding up like this." She grinned cautiously, avoiding his eyes.
He wriggled his body, making the inch or two of cock inside the girl rub around inside her cuntal rim. She closed her eyes, and her body trembled. "Ooooh, Mr. Ladron, that feels good!" she said in a ragged voice. "How much is in me? It feels like a lot!"
Great little actress, he thought. Probably had enough stiff pricks in her to build a fence halfway to Texas.
Remembering her uncertain smile and his feeling that she hadn't actually fucked all that much, he decided to have it over. "Are you afraid?" he asked. "Afraid I'll hurt you?" It was getting to be a strain, holding his body above hers, and the forces in his cock and balls were killing him.
"No, I'm not," the little girl said, closing her lips tight, tensing her body. "I'll be real tight, mainly because you're so big. It may hurt a little. But come on," she begged. "I can't stand it. I can't wait! I'm about to come!" She bobbed her ass and all her body up and down, grasping his arms with her hands, and suddenly her face took on the intense look of some wild dream.
At the same instant, Ladron's balls, which had been sending messages of need, began to shoot their store of jism down through the straining tube of his cock, and he gave himself entirely to the deathly pleasure of coming.
In blind fury, he drove his loins down with all the strength of his powerful body, and dimly, in his trance of .cum fever, he heard a long, shrill scream rip from the young girl's throat. She hadn't lied; she was tight. For a split second, he felt his cock held up, felt a dreadful pain as if it would bend, and then whatever kink inside her was choking him off gave way, and he was into her cunt, feeling her respond to his pounding, to the deep, jarring thuds as his cock struck her cervix, struck and stretched the closed end of her cunt.
He had stuck this tool of his into many a woman, starting when he was around sixteen. How many? He wouldn't say; it was a lot, but he had had to come to a fourteen-year-old kid, in his own home town, to find the greatest, wildest fuck he had ever known. His feeling of mastery was warming him even now as his cock, supersensitive in the fiery wake of such a complete orgasm, feebly throbbed as the hot young pussy continued to squeeze it.
In spite of having come twice in a matter of about fifteen minutes, this almost unbearably lovely action of the young cunt was keeping him partly hard, at least hard enough to stay in.
He relaxed bit by bit, realizing that he must have almost pinched one of those firm little tits right off the kid's chest. He let it go, looking down to see the amazing hardness and size of the swollen nipple.
"I poured my guts out into you," he whispered, his cheek on top of the girl's dark, clean-smelling hair. "Do you know that you're a wonderful screw, Morales? Has anyone ever told you that?" He wondered if he should harp on the obvious fact that she was vastly hip for her age.
Her smiled, as he raised his head to look down at her, was beautiful.
"Nobody ever told me, because I never did it before," she announced proudly. "This was my first time!"
The cock that had stayed hard in the darkness and juiciness of the squeezing little pussy suddenly died completely, and the tiny cunt squeezed it out. In a daze, with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, unable to look the child in the face and wishing he could die, Terry Ladron pulled away.
The girl whimpered and held out her arms, but he got up on his knees, stony-faced, mouth dry, feeling as if his heart had stopped beating.
She had not lied. That obstruction he had broken through had been that rarest of female possessions-a maidenhead.
Most of that hot stuff which he had pumped out of her with his cock had, indisputably, been blood. From the top of her slit on down, and disappearing under her, was a mass of blood and cum.
She had covered her face with her hands, so he could not see her expression. Even as he looked in stricken fashion at her pussy, now seeming pitifully juvenile where it had, only a few minutes before, seemed so mature and inviting, the little hole was working and a large clot of blood rolled out, accompanied by a pearly stream of his semen.
He was choking on the words he had to speak, but they hurt his throat. "Why didn't you tell me? Oh, God, Kitty! Why didn't you tell me?"
He. had heard of post-coital depression, and had always thought it a joke, a phrase used by psychiatrists to describe their neurotic patients. Now, he knew what it was. Sitting on his heels, his big body suddenly lax with fear, he reached a trembling hand to the girl's pussy, seeming swollen to twice its size, stroked it, and repeated: "Why didn't you tell me?"
Terry almost fainted when the girl exploded with a silvery laugh, and he could not believe his eyes as she pulled her hands away from her face, showing it in a warm, triumphant smile.
She sat up and let out a little cry as she saw the pool of blood and cum on the deep shag carpet. "Your lovely rug!" she cried. "I've ruined it! Get a wet towel, get a bucket of water! Quick!"
He said harshly: "Never mind the goddamned carpet! That's no problem! Why in hell didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"
He gripped her by one arm and stood up, pulling her with him. He had never been more confused by conflicting emotions.
"Why?" he repeated. "Why?"
It was ridiculous, the two of them standing there, so naked, so messed and marked with the evidence of what had happened. And him, the coach, thirty-three, a mature man, being the one who was helpless.
He saw the smile begin at the corner of the girl's mouth, and suddenly it hit him. "Don't answer my question," he said, his own laughter coming near the surface. "If you'd told me, I wouldn't have fucked you. And you were determined that I was going to do it. Isn't that it?" He gave her an affectionate shake, watching the hard little boobs jiggle just the least bit.
She fell against him, her arms around his waist, her face tight against his chest.
"It's true, isn't it?" she whispered. "If you'd known I was cherry, you wouldn't have touched me with a ten-foot pole?"
Her hard-nippled titties were boring into his belly, just above his cock. She rubbed herself against him and he felt all the silken warmth of her body bringing him to life.
"Yes," he answered. "That's true. And now I still want to know-why? But this time I want to know why you picked on me."
She looked up at him, her face serious. She pulled away from him and touched his cock. "It's a long story," she said. "I'm just glad it was you."
CHAPTER 3
CLEANING UP THE MESS ON THE CARPET was nothing. Terry could have left it for his cleaning woman, Ceferina Gonzales. But he was interested in just one thing at this point. He wanted a long, slow approach to a long, slow fuck.
The two slam-bang orgasms had drained him only temporarily. Except for the trouble with his back which had rendered him not quite capable of the desperate perfection required of a major-league ballplayer, he was in perfect health. His balls and the rest of his reproductive system built up jism in him until it seemed he had a deep reservoir of semen somewhere in his body. That was why he had come so fast. But now he let his physical body tune up slowly. His mind was already ready.
"You look great from where I sit," he said, reaching out a long hand to stroke up and down in the warm crack of the young girl's ass. She was on hands and knees, sponging up the mingled cum and virginal blood. There was still a thick film of this carnal mixture between her cuntlips, a drop or two slowly oozing out as she worked.
She stopped her work and, with face raised and eyes closed, a look of dreamy pleasure on her face, she rocked back quickly, trying to impale her cunt on his fingers. She giggled.
"If you like that view so much," Kitty said boldly, "why am I fooling around here cleaning your carpet?" She turned and sat down, knees pulled up and spread, forearms resting on them. She had that look of the child madonna again, sweet and wise, and Terry felt his breath catch in his throat at her beauty.
It was a litany of praise to look her over-the calm and womanly beauty of her small oval face, the incredible perfection of her breasts and her smooth belly with its surprising slash of black hair disappearing between her thighs. She was looking at him with love as plain as day in her expression.
As he held his breath, feeling heat charge into his cock, she reached for it, looked up at him with a look that seemed to beg permission, and moved forward swiftly to take it in her mouth.
"That does it," he said, grinning at her struggles as he had to push her away. "Come on, baby, let's go upstairs."
She looked smaller than ever on the king-size bed, and darker, too, on those white sheets. Also, now that there was no further time for kidding and challenging, she was quiet, but her eyes were happy as she watched his every move.
She had snatched up a towel as they passed the door of his upstairs bathroom, and had carefully spread it under her rounded little butt. Now, as Terry moved toward her, his hard cock out in front of him like a lance, she pointed to a long smear of crimson on the improvised pad. "Don't you want me to wash up first, Mr. Ladron?" she asked shyly. "I'm sort of messy!"
She felt warm and secure and expectant as his hands closed on her ankles, and she let him tip her up and back, feeling the smooth sheet on her skin.
The girl had to restrain a choked cry as his warm breath fell on her cuntlips, and a fierce desire burned in her belly as the big hands held her helpless with her beautiful little butt pointing at the ceiling. There was an itchy feeling of something growing, expanding in her cunt, and without meaning to, her entire body began to move gently, even against the strength of his hands, pumping her ass toward whatever awaited her.
There was a quiet laugh, again so close to her opened pussy that she felt the tickle of his breath. He said: "This is the way to clean such a sweet little pussy!" and a wet, hot, living pressure struck into her superheated cunt, so that she screamed at the pleasure that swept her.
"No!" she cried, feeling the coach sucking at her spasming hole, and again, "No!" She thought of the blood and the flow of her own productive cunt, and whatever might be left of the coach's heavy load of cum. For a split second, it seemed terrible that such a god-like creature should be sucking up a mess composed of stuff right out of her twat.
And then, following that thought as closely as if they were one, was another thought a thousand times as sweet, a thousand times as hot. It burned in her brain, just as Ladron's caressing tongue burned between her legs, between her opened cuntlips, just as his urgent kissing and sucking stormed through her cunt. She was almost out of her mind with the heat and the beat of a screaming orgasm, but she felt a deep gratitude toward this rugged, grown-up man who seemed to know exactly what to do to make a girl swing through the gut-deep thrills of one hard orgasm after another. She could feel the blind muscles in her beloved pussy, slipping and sliding over and around each other in the wet dark. His sucking brought the walls of her twat together in a pain so pleasant that she bit her lips to keep from screaming. Then it became so intense that she no longer cared and let herself go. The deep waves of sensation flowed up through her, wringing her out as she hammered her ass against his face and chin.
One come-shock after another and one wave of fire after another blazed through her. From the swollen, sensitive breasts the orgasms spread down across the belly, diving through the crisply curled hair onto the straining, leaping clit and down the juicy channel of smooth red inner lips. Every pore streamed out its clear drops of girl-cum, every nerve went crazy with lust and heat and wildness. And every deeply rooted nerve down deep in cunt and asshole and guts pounded away in a frenzy of orgasm, of love.
Terry felt her body go into the spasmodic, uncontrolled trembling of series orgasm and knew, with reluctance, that he must back away from this reddened slash of pouting inner lips and pinkly quaking hole. Her thighs, which had been so tight around his head, were now as loose as if she had fainted. Even her screams, which had seemed enough to wake the dead, had subsided to a faint moaning that seemed not to cease. He could not remember ever having so much feeling for a woman.
And he now had a hard-on which would, with just a little bit of attention, last as long as he wanted it to.
Still in a personal fit of cunt madness, he looked at the carmined flush of thick, soft lips, so like a succulent flower with wet and flowing petals. The outer lips, so thick for such a young girl, lay wide open, still not recovered from the violence of the girl's hammering orgasms, but relaxed almost to a sort of membranous jelly. The abundant dark hair, as long and thick on these lips as on the springy pussy mound, was stiff with the mixture of come-juices and virgin blood. He would later soften this residue by much licking and sucking. Yes, he would take mouthfuls of this crinkly, fragrantly coated pussy hair, suck at it gently, then close his teeth down and pull back to scrape the tasty coating onto his tongue, the magnificent taste of cunt and cock and fucking.
Now that his face was away from the sweated valley of her snatch, he could see the crease where each thigh joined the taut little body, the clean lines of her firm buttcheeks, pinched together by her weight and by the cupping softness of the mattress. He licked his lips, finding them thickly coated with the sweet oozings from this girlish but mature pussy, and the ripe flavor and aroma were sweet to his senses and fuel for his hard-on.
"Oh, Mr. Ladron," the tender, hushed little voice came down to him, "I never knew anything could feel so good! Never!"
Her thighs stirred gently; she put her soft hands on his cheeks. Somehow, without looking up, he knew she had tears on her dusky cheeks. "I feel terrible about bleeding and all, but you know something? I feel so wonderful that you would kiss my pussy when it was like that, that nothing else mattered once you started and nothing matters now." Her voice was soft and musical; her screaming had seemed to clear her throat of huskiness.
Terry felt her stir and got his hands under her legs, up and around her thighs, stroking her smooth belly. "Lie still a minute or longer, baby," he murmured. "We've got all day." . She squirmed away from him, then turned her body to slide down toward his cock, and she was laughing. "We've only got an hour or so," she said. "Ceferina gets here when, to fix your dinner? Five-thirty? Six?"
He laughed aloud. "Damn small towns, anyhow," he said. "A man can't take a piss without his neighbors knowing."
"That's not it," she said. "Ceferina's my aunt. I live with her. Raul, my mother, me, Aunt Cef, we all live together."
He shook his head. "Get away from my prick and come up here when I can see you," he ordered. "My dinner's already fixed. All I have to do is put it on the stove, in the oven, whatever it happens to be. Ceferina doesn't come back tonight, so there's no hurry. Like I said."
The girl snuggled her warm, vibrant little body against his so that he felt the distended nipples press against his chest and felt the brushy wetness of her pussy against his belly.
"She picks up your laundry and takes it to the laundromat," Kitty whispered. "Tonight's her night for that."
There was a sound of music through the wall of the bedroom, and both of them jumped, then shared a laugh. The volume of sound decreased, and Terry chuckled.
"That's my tenant," he observed. "A Miss Albright. Some old bat of a music teacher or something."
Kitty moved her head back and looked amused. "Have you ever seen Miss Albright?" she asked.
"No. After my folks died, and I was away all the time, Well Carver down at the bank took care of the property for me. He had it remodeled into two apartments, put in a swimming pool. All of that."
"Yeah," the girl answered dryly. "Mister Carver takes care of people's property, all right. But you never saw Miss Albright?"
"No. Why? Do you know her? What's she like?"
The girl was silent, looking at the ceiling and smiling.
"Well," she said at last, "she's not a music teacher. She teaches dancing. And she's not an old bat. She's no sweet young thing, but she's not an old bat."
She moved against him again, shivering, and hugged herself against him blindly, nuzzling into his neck, so that the clean smell of her hair and the sharp, exciting acridity of fresh girl-sweat came to his nostrils. With these mixed perfumes, there was the thick, throat-tightening odor of cunt. Terry, in no hurry to complete this meeting, said: "Hey, you were going to tell me why you picked on me to pick your cherry."
Kitty climbed higher on him, plastering her open mouth on his, thrusting her hard tongue into his mouth, her breath coming harder and faster. In this position, her oozing little pussy was almost to his rib cage. In a blind passion he shoved his fingers under her split bottom, sliding them into the widespread softness of slick folds and weeping pores. His cock was standing up from his belly, just grazing the inside of her thighs. She trembled and tensed, then relaxed.
"I almost came again, just kissing you," she whispered. "Honest, Mr. Ladron, I never dreamed sex could be so great."
"But how do you know so much about sex?" he asked. "I could ask how do you know anything, but that would be stupid. Girls learn the same way as boys. But you know a lot."
The girl looked doubtful. "It's Raul," she said. "You know him. He's always taken care of me. My big brother...."
CHAPTER 4
TERRY KNEW RAUL MORALES. SIXTEEN, nearly seventeen. A hard, stocky boy, about five-eight in height, carrying a muscular hundred seventy-five pounds on his powerful frame. He was one of the reasons Terry was glad to coach baseball at Brandeis High. The boy was a cinch to be a number-one draft choice in the free-agent big-league drawings. Oh, yes, he knew Raul Morales.
"Best high-school baseball player in California," Terry said gently as the two of them lay quietly. "I like him. He taught you about sex?"
"Who else could I go to?" the child asked simply. "Not to my mama. Not to Aunt Cef. And that was over two years ago. I didn't know about...." and she stopped, biting her lip.
"Okay, I'm not going to bug you to tell me who or what you didn't know about. You'll tell me later if you want to. But what did Raul do? And what did you do?" The big man was near laughter, but he was also near tears. An only child, he had often been lonely. And his father and mother had been so much older than he. Raul meant a lot to Kitty.
Kitty closed her eyes and her face was tense. Then, suddenly, she laughed. "I forgot, you've just done everything to me, we're naked together, no secrets. I can tell you anything." She moved against him. "Is that your cock touching the inside of my thigh? Can you move it so that it presses against my pussy?" She wriggled down and he moved up; the broad head of his tool lay throbbing in her slick channel.
"Raul would do that," she whispered. "Raul got naked, and undressed me. He needed some help, too. He was always scared of most girls. Thought they'd laugh at him."
"He's nuts. They'd rape him if they got close."
"Well, we're Mexican, and pretty dark," the child answered defensively. "And he couldn't stand to be laughed at."
Making a mental note to have a talk with his best ballplayer, Terry said: "So he had a sex problem, naturally."
"He was kind of scared to, uh, masturbate, you know, to jerk off too much. Gee, is it all right for me to talk like this, Mr. Ladron?"
Terry rubbed a big hand across her lovely little ass, and kissed her gently. "Considering all that's happened here this afternoon, it's sort of silly to call me Mister, don't you think? At least when we're in bed together, you might call me something else."
"Coachie?" she asked teasingly, bumping her warm little belly against him. "All right, is it okay to call you Terry? Like when we're up here together," she whispered.
"Raul didn't ever put it into you at all, then?" Terry asked. "Not even just an inch, just enough to come?"
"No, no!" the girl cried. "He wouldn't do that! He wanted me to find someone else to do that. He didn't want me to be frustrated, but he couldn't fuck me!"
"He sucked you, then?" The big man's voice was gentle.
"Only once in a while. When we were both real hot. But mostly, we just used our fingers. He taught me how to do him just exactly right. He said I was more expert than he was!" She laughed nervously, rimming her lips with her tongue.
She moved restlessly and Terry suddenly realized that an inch of the hard column of his cock was into the tight sheath of cunt muscle and wet slickness. He wondered if the girl were too preoccupied to know it.
"You sure as hell handled my prick something great," the big man said. "So you were great for him, I know. And he could feel your lovely little breasts and look at your beautiful little body while you pulled him into a come. How sweet that must have been for him." He jabbed a bit deeper into the clenched pussy, and leaped as her strong young muscles nipped his dick.
"It was sweet for me, too," the girl said. Her voice was choked, hot, eager, and she began sucking Terry's tongue. "He would come all over me, all over my belly and boobs and face. In my hair!" She was unquestionably getting very hot thinking and talking about her sibling sex relief with the memory of this afternoon's fucking and sucking still fresh. The cock was getting a little deeper into her and the smells of lust rose around them.
"You sucked him? Not often, but sometimes?"
"Oh, yesss!" the child whimpered. "When he was real, real hot, too hot to fight, I'd suck him! Oh, Jesus, yess! Oh, Mr. Ladron-I mean Terry-how hot it was! How good it tasted! But I couldn't suck him as much as I wanted to!"
"And you wanted him to fuck you, but he wouldn't, right?" Terry was gently moving his body and had been for several minutes, getting his big cock farther and farther into the incredibly hot little cunt, against the resisting tightness which was moving and sucking at his cock.
The girl suddenly gripped him by his big shoulders, going into a spasm of twisting which got his cock deep into her, banging against her womb, painfully stretching her juvenile cunt, and hammered herself into an orgasm. This time she tried to swallow her screams, but her happily swallowing cunt proved her delight. She kissed him, panting furiously.
"Oh, you wonderful man!" she cried. "I'm so lucky! Now I'm glad Raul wouldn't fuck me! Ohhh! There's another!"
She fluttered her body and cunt against and around him again, and her marvelous flow of cum made her painfully tight little hole seem easier and hotter as she came again.
"Why wouldn't he fuck you? Sister or no sister, I would have," Terry said. His cock swelled marvelously in the girl's sweet, tiny hole; it was so sensitive that he could feel each fluttering caress of her inner muscles. He could feel the warm fluids running down along his balls, too. Magnificent.
They had gradually changed positions until the girl was on top of him, and she smiled with deep affection and maturity.
"I begged him," she said. "I told him I'd go out and fuck somebody else, anybody, if he didn't. But he said I should wait and not throw it away on some dumb kid in the back of a car or on a beach blanket. 'Find a real man, Chula,' he said to me. Chula means-well-it kind of means pretty, or beautiful." She seemed embarrassed at this, far more embarrassed than at detailing her and her brother's fuck-talk. "What he wanted was for me to give it to a man who could appreciate it."
Terry's smile was grave, his voice tender. "I'm glad it was me. But I still don't know why."
Without her willing it, Kitty felt her hips rotate slightly, so that the big cock stirred inside her box, touching every inch of her, rubbing each fold, probing every crevice. The dying fires of orgasm began to build, and she felt as if this man's cock were big enough to hold her in midair. Carefully, still moving her slight body, she put a hand down between her legs, down farther, until she could cup Terry's balls in her fingers.
The sensation was marvelous, making their touching, their joining, more complete. By stretching, she could touch his asshole, at least she believed so. Not just now, but someday, when she was not so close to that ultimate come, when she felt bolder, more secure, she would stick her finger in his ass, he would stick his finger in hers, they would join tongues as they were also joining cock and cunt.
With that engulfing thought, come-fire roared in her twat again, her blood thudding like a machine gun, the big cock seeming to grow into a pole on which she was happily skewered. Red, red, red, she thought. The inside of my cunt, my cuntlips, the head of my true love's cock, the blood in my veins, the blood from my maidenhead. Oh, come, Terry, come! Please come!
As her big spasm of ecstasy died and her body came down to rest sweatingly on his, she sighed. "I couldn't help it," she whispered. "It hit me so quick. I had to come! Oh, Terry, isn't fucking wonderful?"
He held her close. He raised her up so that he could squeeze her firm tits, swollen to almost twice their normal size. He strained his neck and got one of the hard, creased nipples in his mouth, sucking until she squealed and bumped her ass in excitement.
She was once, again on the verge of one of those long, jackhammer comes, one where any touch, any movement, would shoot her into sex-orbit, a pinwheel of sensation, so he held her still on his cock.
"Why? Why me?" he insisted.
The child's face took on that madonna look again, in spite of the scene of unbridled lust, in spite of the cock in her snatch, in spite of her come-juice shining so wetly on the man's face.
"You know what Raul told me," she said in a whisper. "Aunt Cef told me the same. 'Not some no-good pimply kid,' she told me. 'A real man.' And then-well-your folks died. You remember? And you came home."
His heart twisted. He remembered the funeral only too well, the two people he had loved best, both gone; the smell of lilies and slow death; the light coming through the stained glass windows. Did he remember a tiny Mexican girl, big-eyed, with smooth, blue-black hair? No, of course not. "You were only twelve," he whispered. "You couldn't have thought of me in those terms."
The girl tried to struggle, to bump up and down on his swelling, commanding prick. Her amazing little cunt, so grown up in its heat and muscular grip, so girlish in its sweetness and tightness, was trying its best to suck his jism up out of his swelling balls, trying to caress his sensitive cockhead into that compelling throb that starts the big shoot-off of cum.
"I could come then," she cried. "I could jerk Raul off! I could suck him, and he could suck me, and we could come! Oh, damn you, I always loved you! That's why I picked on you to open my cunt! Ohhh! Ohhh! I'm coming again! Again! Again!"
He held her very tenderly and let her thrash out this wild orgasm, making an effort to hold his own load. He had had his cock in her pussy for fifteen minutes, at least. He had indulged in heated play with her, licking her petaled cuntlips, teasing her asshole, sucking her tits, for much longer. He was primed and ready, but he held back with an effort.
The girl needed his tenderness now, but once he began to shoot that hot load into her, tenderness be goddamned.
Her body was so small, so smooth, so perfect! Her skin was softer and smoother than any he had ever known. Like a baby, his senses said, and he grinned lasciviously above her head. Of course, like a baby. Except for those little titties, so hard and firm and trying to swell larger even now, except for that long, thick track of black hair surrounding her cunt, and the fragrant, dark puffs of hair under her arms, she was a baby.
Her cunt hammered and twisted and sucked and drooled out its fluids around his cock. Some blood would still be in it, he knew.
She had been lying flat on her belly, on his belly, her thighs spread, but not really wide. Now, he took her by her knees and drew her legs up until she squealed that he was splitting her. Her ass was wide open; he thumbed up some of her generous flow of goo and rubbed it up and down in the crack of her ass so that she remembered her desire to have her asshole plugged, and leaped as high as she could, falling back until his big cock seemed to go clear to her breastbone, choking her.
"It's too good!" she cried. "Fuck me, Mr. Ladron! Fuck me! Ohhh, my God! Ohhh!" and she bucked and writhed and fought.
And now, inside her pleasured sheath, against her swelling cuntlips, her shivery clit, her sensitized womb, there was a new blast of unbearable joy. His shouting, spouting, hot lashing flow of semen, the hot richness of his seed firing into the darkness of her cunt like a huge pumping of slick heat. Her mouth found his, she felt the sweet thickness of his tongue, the aphrodisiac drowning of their mouths in saliva. Now she could scream, too, as long as it was smothered by his tongue. Now she could ride and leap and writhe and twist, as long as it was on this lovely, smooth, stretching cock.
The girl was turning inside out; her guts were all working, and pulling and sucking at the cock, her cunt was a working mass of heat and softness and loving wetness, a part of her delirium and his. She was fucking and she was fucked; there was a blast of feeling near her cunt; she was rising and pushing. It was in her ass! It was a finger, curling and twisting against the raw nerves in her shitter.
Kitty must have passed out for a few seconds. When she came back to earth, Terry was on his side, facing her, and his big cock was still in her twat but getting smaller. He had his right hand behind him, wiping it on the towel. It would leave brown streaks. Her asshole was on fire, but so darned beautiful!
"Oh, my ass feels good!" She had meant to whisper, instead, it was a happy scream. She laughed, and kissed him and felt with her small hand, trying to stuff his cock back into her snatch. "You can fuck me in the ass, Mr. Ladron! I mean Terry! Please! Fuck me in my navel! Under my arms!"
He kissed her on the mouth, on each nipple, on her belly, and rooted between her fat, slick cuntlips to kiss her hidden clit, now withdrawn. "You don't need any more right now, baby," he laughed. "So cool it. Your Aunt Cef may be here any minute, so maybe you better split."
They clung together, kissing, feeling of each other, his hand finding rare beauty in the flowing split between her legs.
* * *
"Will you not worry about anything?" she asked him as she dressed. "I'll never be a drag. I'll come here when you want me, and stay away when you don't. You gave me so much! I won't beg for more."
She was so young, so sweet, so serious. He kissed her softly, all over her young face, licking around her ears, and pulled her tied-at-the-bottom shirt aside so he could nibble at one of the dark-crowned boobies, so pumped up with blood and heat.
She wrenched away, laughing, and trotted to the door, pulling her tiny skirt up to show him her pussy as she left. He heard his back door open as the girl disappeared down his long drive, and sighed in relief.
He went into the kitchen and smiled at Ceferina as she came in, a woman with the blessing of a beautiful body, the curse of an ugly face.
She gave him a wicked grin, twisting her fine body so that her big tits somehow seemed to reach out for him. "You look happy, boss," she grinned. "And the' place smells happy. I'll bet the sheets are already bundled up and off the bed, huh?"
She walked past him boldly, stopping just as she passed him, so that her big, softly rounded ass was a challenge.
Impishly, Terry deliberately took one of her asscheeks in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and pull, opening the crack of her ass. She jumped and squealed, but was pleased.
"Wise guy!" she smiled. "Glad to see you getting settled in, boss. A man needs more in his bed than a book and an apple."
"You're a dirty old woman, Cef," he joked.
"Hmph! Look who's calling me old! Listen, coach, you want me to get your dinner ready?" She smirked broadly, but there was a real invitation in her pleasantly homely face.
He watched Ceferina going up the stairs with the strength and grace of a tigress. In that thin, light dress, and in this strong afternoon light, it wasn't hard to see that she had on no underpants. No need to guess; it was clear she was hot.
He rubbed his hand down the front of his safari shorts. No doubt about it. His cock was rising. Beautiful! Just beautiful!
CHAPTER 5
THE COACH WHO HAS A GIRLS' TEAM AND A boys' team to direct, as Terry did, does not have a soft touch. True, there were rewards. Higher pay, for one. And Terry was not one to ignore the nubile young bodies showing their bouncy attributes so fetchingly as his Softball team got into daily action.
Maybe it's my imagination, he told himself, smiling, but I'd swear there's a ripe aroma of hot, greasy pussy every time those kids jog by me!
Terry sighed as he watched some of them trot past him on the way to the practice field. He looked for Kitty, Cissie Norton, thin little Mindy Kahn, Janice Chandler. There were others, too, but these four had the ability, though they were maybe not the best-looking. Some of the girls were spectacular, but Terry was a baseball man as well as a cocksman. He loved kids, girls as well as boys, who could not only run and throw and hit, but who could make the big play and who knew what to do with the ball instinctively.
"Good morning, Coach," Kitty called as she passed him at an easy lope, her young titties almost too firm to jiggle. He looked at the meeting point of her butt and thighs as she went off down the path, fancying he could see the darkness of sweat already visible in that hot area. What a magnificent piece of ass!
He was playing with dynamite, messing around with jailbait, but what the fuck? Everything in life was a risk; crossing the street was a risk; taking a bath was a risk. And what of the rewards contained in that hot, juicy young body?
A thud of light steps slowed, there was panting at his shoulder, and a husky, sweet voice said: "Hi, Mr. Ladron!"
It was Janice Chandler, his catcher, quite pretty in a sunburned blonde way, with big blue eyes and damp ringlets of curly hair down her cheeks. She was in her practice uniform, and she blushed as Terry looked her over. "I'm trying to get some of this weight off me, Coach," she said intensely. "I know I look like a freak!"
He looked at her magnificent body and shook his head.
"Not you, baby," he said. Her golden thighs were rounded and strong, no blubber there. As with all women, the big muscles that came around and up the backs of her thighs moved as she walked or ran. Her butt was enough to drive a sculptor bananas.
He would gladly have patted her on that gorgeous big ass, or given her classically rounded tits a loving feel, but not in this frame of reference. Whoo-ee! His ass would have been bounced out of town so fast he would have been at the bus depot before he could slow up.
So Terry put his feelings into his eyes and voice as he grinned and whispered: "Don't change it on my account, Chandler. I don't know how you got it together, but it's a great job!"
And the kid understood him, or at least she seemed to.
She flashed him a smile with the whitest teeth and the pinkest tongue as she sprinted away.
At that moment, she eclipsed the dark little angel who had just passed. His mind saw Jan's golden-haired pussy, the coral pinkness inside the thick, strong lips that disappeared between her legs when she stood upright, that parted into a pair of fat, thickly haired cushions. He knew how sweet that young cunt would taste, how smoothly it could grip a big cock.
"Live seventeen years ago," he whispered nostalgically.
At sixteen, he had had a girl like Janice. Stocky, strong, eager, warm. Warm? Wow! He had gone hiking with a group; the girl, Candy Something, had unobtrusively fallen in beside him, nodded toward a side path, started thumbing down her white shorts as soon as the first bush hid them.
She had gotten down on the grass quickly and pulled him down with her, her big ass bare and beautiful, her pink split showing wetly through the soft blonde hair. "I knew you weren't too young, kid," she had said. "I'm Candy. Your name's Terry, isn't'it? Did you ever eat pussy?"
Sure, he had gotten himself a little pussy before then, quite a lot for a kid his age and in his time. But this was the first pussy that had been opened to him, with a big, smart, good-natured girl pushing it up to him boldly, yet with a certain humility. "You can kiss it if you want to," she had said. "It's clean, except I got a little hot thinking about your prick."
No wonder they called her Candy, he thought to himself in the privacy of a green campus covered with fifteen hundred moving people. It had been like sucking a tiny little lollipop, his lips around her clit, a piece of female equipment of which he learned the name just that day. Her cuntjuice had been as divine as nectar; not sweet, not quite salt, just clear and slick and warm with a little smell to it.
The coach changed his stance. His cock was making a holy show of itself. Thinking of that pink-and-gold cunt from so long ago, the first pussy he had lain and looked at, licked and kissed, fucked gaily and without hurry. And that marvelous girl! She had come. Pow-pow-pow-pow! Humping her gorgeous ass on that natural green cushion, moaning love and fuck and cum and cunt and cock and every love word in his young ears.
"Oooops!" he said. "Got to get to my class!"
Janice, Janice! he thought, can you possibly be that cunt of cunts, that warm, rippling hole between two fat and furry cuntlips that milked the old Coach's jism from him seventeen years ago?
"Hi, Terry!" He whirled around, his hard-on quickly wilting.
"Oh, hi. Hello, Carver. What's with you?"
Wells Carver was a boyhood chum, member of the same football and baseball teams at school, but never quite as good as Terry.
"Want to thank you for taking care of the house, Wells," Ladron said. "I've been meaning to take you to lunch."
The man was dark, stocky and muscular. He dressed casually but in a way that told everyone he was in the money. Wells smiled easily, full of confidence, of good will, of a Rotarian commitment to serve.
"You thank me every month, kid," he said, "when the bank deducts that fat six per cent of your rentals for property management." His handclasp was a shade too aggressive, held a shade too long. I could break his fucking hand if I wanted to, Terry thought, and was surprised at such an unfriendly thought toward such an outgoing man.
"Well, fine. Okay. What got you out to this un-likely spot? Not resigning my account, are you?"
"No. Nuts, Ter, nothing like that. I hear your girls' team is working out this pee-em." He nudged his old friend and winked at Terry. "I thought maybe I could share a look at some of that young and juicy cunt with you!"
It didn't sit right. When they'd really known each other, Wells Carver hadn't been that way. Terry chased pussy. Bob Alls and Tim Smith and Tom Gentry and George Laws-they chased pussy. But not Wells Carver.
"Come along," Terry said. "I can't talk to you-I'll be busy. And actually, it's sort of dull. Fungo flies and infield, mostly. Couple innings of real play."
But he was uncomfortable. Twice, he had to frown at Kitty for standing too close to him. So close he could smell that lovely rank smell. And Janice Chandler, her tits suddenly looking bigger than ever with nipples sticking out like ninety caliber bullets, looked around at him from her crouch every time he called a ball or a strike, her young face adoring. And that wasn't all.
Maybe it was just that sweet, delirious fuck with Kitty, or the memory of that golden day in the woods with What'shername, but he was twice as sensitive to the wealth of youthful cooze. God, what wealth! And they were on to him, somehow; he felt it in his bones. In his cock, too, and in their glances.
Sweet Mindy Kahn had nothing on under her warm-up jacket, he'd bet his ass against a dime. Incredible! Thirteen years old. Tall, tall, tall! Five-eleven, and no wider at any point than a six-year-old. But her shape, that was something else. Beautiful, firm little ass, like a tiny woman. Cup-sized little titties, but she wore such a tight jersey that you couldn't miss them. Didn't weigh over a hundred twenty-five pounds, but you could see the shape of a very fat pussy under her tight stretch pants. And even as he turned to look at her, standing by the water cooler, she deliberately ran the zipper down on her jacket and looked at him deadpan. She and her two tits!
There they were! Two of them. Lovely, pinky-white cones, with startlingly dark areolas. And her shorts were hips huggers, slung so low that he could see a tuft of dark hair peeping above her belt. Tits! Belly! Cunt hair! His eyes misted with heat and shock, and he miscalled a pitch that was just on the outside corner. Called it a ball. "Two balls!" he cried.
And when Jan, her sunburned face beet red, had turned and stood jaw to jaw with him, hollering, he could only think of the delectable bulge of her boobs and how her cunt would taste.
Betty Page, Peggy Considine, Mae Thatcher, his beautiful little black outfielder, all gave him the eye, snickering. It made him uncomfortable and he was glad to call practice over. He said good-bye to Wells Carver rather pointedly when the latter wanted to discuss the charms, hidden and otherwise, of his girl ballplayers. He had never felt hornier in his life.
Terry felt warmth and congestion around the base of his cock; his balls were swollen and tender. He saw Miss Suzette Parker, a Latin teacher, maybe twenty-three, auburn-haired, with a look of come-on in her deep blue eyes, a smile of humanity on her red, full-lipped mouth. Together, they made a very plain please-fuck-me sign on her lovely face. She smiled at him, but he saw Kitty and Janice and Mindy and the rest, and Miss Parker looked old, the warm place between her legs less warm, less juicy.
In his office, he did a double-take. W.R. Adamson, Old Riff Adamson, sitting in Terry's chair, smiled at him. A smile from Old Riff was rare.
"This ain't much of an office," Adamson said. When you've got twenty-two years' tenure, when you've been principal for thirteen years, fuck grammar.
Terry felt the hair at the back of his neck stir. "It's not bad," he said tentatively.
"Damn good office goin' to waste in the main gymnasium," the big old man said. "Right close to your boys. And your girls, too," he added, getting up. "I'll have Maintenance move you over right away."
He shook hands with Terry and gave him an odd look. "Hope you've got enough judgment to keep your mind on coaching," he said. "The girls, I mean. As I recall, you weren't a cherry-picker as a kid. No angel, but you didn't pick on little kids."
Thinking of the heat and womanliness and cascades of hot fuck-juice pouring out of the red gash in Kitty Morales' belly, Terry looked earnestly at Old Riff. "Thank you, sir," he said calmly. II they fuck me, I'm going to fuck them, he thought, looking the stern old bastard in the eye.
By the time he got to his new office, the men from the maintenance group had moved him in. He sat, sweated and happy, listening to the high-pitched cries and talk and laughter of girls. Girls? What the hell!
There was a painted window, painted over with opaque white, on an inner wall. It was a dandy office, big and bright, with two big windows looking out on the campus. Even a lock on his door, with a key in it. He remembered. This used to be the office of Moms McKay, legendary dragon who guarded the girls at Brandeis. She had been the school's first phys ed teacher.
Absently, keeping his mind quiet, he took a nail file and scratched a small hole in the white paint and looked through it. He could have fainted.
In a brightly lit shower room, there was his entire squad. Buck naked, every one of them. Pink and white and brown tits. Blonde and black and brown and red pussies. And a couple with almost no hair at all, just thick, soft, grownup-looking cuntlips with a deep groove running wetly down to hide between strong young thighs.
Weak-kneed, Terry dragged a chair over, thoughtfully opening his fly to let his cock hang out.
"Did you see Coachie's hard-on?" It was a soft-mouthed, tender-looking child, one of those with almost no cunt hair. She doubled her fist, placed the other hand on the joint of her elbow, and raised her forearm, aping a risen cock, laughing. "Brother, has he got a cock! Mindy, you must have creamed your tights, hey, baby? Mindy's got it up for the coach!"
One of the girls, not on his team but obviously at home with these other kids, laughed and said something that sounded like: "We ought to take her over to see Denny!"
Most of the others looked blank, but Cissie Norton crowed: "Yeah, man, Denny'll fix her!"
There had been a tumult of cries, but in the sudden silence after, Kitty flashed across and slapped Cissie on the cheek. The tough-looking, short-haired girl, looking very butchy in spite of a rankly female build, aimed a roundhouse right at the little Mexican, but a girl who was a stranger to Terry caught her arm.
"Let it go, Norton," she said clearly. "Kitty could kick the shit out of you even if she is smaller. I'm sorry, Kit," she said. "I shouldn't have mentioned you-know-who. Right?"
It was a mystery, but not enough to pry the coach's attention away from the lubricious treasure-trove of warm, sleek nudity. He had a hard-on, he was getting a headache, and he suddenly wanted to be alone. He didn't want Kitty; he did want Kitty; he didn't know what the hell he wanted. But he didn't want this confusion where baby tits loomed at him in all shapes and shades and sizes. And those gamy, lovely little chalices of dripping flesh bordered with crinkly hair became too much when they also became too many.
To air out his crotch, to give his balls a chance to recede, he drove home slowly with the air-conditioning on in his car. His pool was full. It would be like the proverbial cold shower recommended to control a hard-on.
He did not go in his house. He shed his clothes at the pool's edge, down to his shorts, and dived in. The pull of the water snatched the shorts off him, but what the hell. That old-maid dance teacher, music teacher, whatever the hell she was, could just keep her long nose out of his business. It's my house, he thought aggressively. II I want to go naked, balls and all, and she doesn't like it, let her kiss my ass! Then he let his body float, eyes closed against the slanted September sun.
CHAPTER 6
TERRY FELT GREAT AS HE RELAXED IN the pool, he wished that he had been less confused. He could have gotten Kitty to come by. How that kid could suck cock! Fantastic talent! There was a sound in his ears, just at the waterline. Water always made noises in his ears.
But water never giggled. And water never said: "Hot damn! Debbie was right! The coach has got a cock like a mule!"
He opened his eyes in panic, and closed them, hoping he was wrong. But he wasn't. It was Mindy and Jan, one strong and round and blonde, the other slender and tall and dark. He had never seen a prettier pair of young twats, never seen two twats this young, ever, and he panicked.
His churning sprint across the pool, his dash for the cabana, where at least he might hide his nakedness, failed him.
He fell as he fled through the cabana door, and laughed with keen delight as the two young bodies fell with him, on him. "I can't hurt you kids," he laughed, twisting so that his hard-on, suddenly real again, wouldn't rasp on the rough canvas of the pad that had tripped him. "I won't fight you. Hey! Watch it! Oh, goddamn!"
The big, soft boobs of the Chandler girl were across his face, their nipples arising from shining, swollen circles of puckery flesh, pink as carnations. He sucked wildly on the big nubbin of hard flesh and got one hand down to that blonde cunt he had seen for just a flash.
Hot and slick with cum, already. Could she be that other girl's daughter? She moved down, taking her tit out of his mouth, her pussy off his probing fingers, and kissed him hard, her tongue a thrusting delight.
Where was Mindy? So slender, so light, he hardly felt her weight on his legs, but he felt her smoothness, her warmth.
Terry raised his head and saw her. She was anxiously trying to get her cuntlips open, squatting across his loins, aiming her narrow but beautiful little ass right at the head of his cock.
"You could get yourself speared that way, Kahn," he said, but his vision was cut off and his breath stopped, too, as two big haunches settled across his face and warm, slick cunt juice ran into his eyes and nose and mouth.
He gulped with joy, almost with disbelief. The smoothness of opened cuntlips caressed his mouth; the girl knew enough not to mash him with her weight, knew enough to give his tongue and lips the space they needed.
In the face of this obvious savoir faire, Terry Ladron lost the panic he never should have felt. If they fuck me, I'll sure as hell fuck them. That was what he had thought when Old Riff jabbed at him. Ah, this warm, smooth flesh, these hot and dribbly little cunts, these sweet and chewable titties! And, God Almighty! That pressure on my cock!
He shot his hands down, down to his prick, felt straining flesh and muscle and tendons right at the base of his root, and he rubbed softly and fiercely where he knew the hidden clit would be, hearing a wild, sobbing cry from the lanky kid whose cunt was so tightly jammed over his throbbing cock.
A kind of madness came over him. He'd make them come before they got to him, by God, he would. He ate with brutal skill at the flowing clutch of pink lips, feeling the blonde hair caressing his lips and cheeks, getting the miniature hardness of Janice's clit right where he could suck at it, love it with his hard tongue, rub the surfaces of his teeth on it. Even with her big thighs clamped on his head, he could hear the volume of her happy cries, and he fucked up hard into the tight little cunt of that marvelous skinny kid. His nuts were crowded painfully by a brand-new supply of semen; he would shoot her snatch so full she'd drip for a week. But God, how long could he keep up? It was the taste and smell and richness of Jan's pussy that was keeping his mind off his own orgasm. His tongue was going into that sweet hole every time she rode forward, creaming his face with her cum. And the hole was nipping him, chewing his tongue. Incredible! That juice, thick and clear and fragrant! Wonderful!
The violence of the stocky blonde kid's orgasm was delightful; his mouth, sensitive and erotic, felt the forces inside that strong and youthful twat, and he felt a deep respect for the sexuality of these two child-women. The treasure-trove of cunt was tighter, hotter, more vibrant than if they were mature. Juicier, too. Did maturity and its disappointments lead to diminishing lust? The thought kept his mind off the pins-and-needles pain in his balls, off the raw nerve ends in his cockhead. He sucked hard on the twisting hole of velvet soft flesh and got a lump of cum, and heard a child-like scream as the pressure on his ears eased and Janice fell sideways on the mat.
It affected Mindy, too, apparently, for there was a great pull on his prick, and as his eyes got used to the light again, he knew why. The girls had been kissing above him; while Mindy was speared with his cock deep in her belly, and while Jan's cunt was vacuuming his nose, mouth, and taste buds, the two had been kissing, had been squeezing each other's titties. He knew because they were still joined, their eyes closed, sucking at one another's tongues, groaning, clamping down on all four tits until they seemed ready to burst. And Mindy, too, beyond a doubt, was coming.
Her slender body, so perfectly turned in spite of her dainty build, was moving as the shock of orgasm struck through her. He could see, because of her position on his cock, the gummy pink inside of her left cuntlip; she was leaning sideways on him, one long leg bent beneath her, the other stuck out into thin air. There was a slick stream of her cunt syrup flowing down his stem and his mass of pubic hair, sopping up the rich flow, had transferred it to her nest of soft pussy hair. They were both soaked in it.
The first surge of painful ecstasy raged in his body, far in, near his asshole. The tall kid, feeling the powerful throb in her stretched cunt, cried out sharply and tried to get back on. She let go her hold on the blonde Janice's deeply carved and bountiful boobs, and her tongue came out of Jan's mouth with a pop. She had to roll clear off to try and remount the cock, standing straight and full, the head dark red and shiny from her cunt juice and from engorgement, but it was the blonde who leapt on it.
Her open mouth caught the first milky white jet and she went down on him so hard that his prick jammed deep into her throat. Her ass, its cheeks spread wide by the stance of her knees, held a drooling, hair-fringed bull's-eye of slickly wet lips. Mindy, superheated, squirmed on her back between those knees and her girlish mouth clamped on the spot where Terry's had been seconds before.
In the brightness and uncontrollable joy of blowing his new load into the warm throat of a girl just into puberty, the coach put his long fingers tenderly into the lips of the tall kid's pussy, still blindly sucking at the prick it had lost, but which had brought her to a flow of orgasmic joy. Either she had not finished that blasting come, or her sucking of Jan's flowing cunt had brought her to the verge of another.
For, as Terry's long fingers probed into the slick, gooey hole, feeling the hard and girlish cervix, pressing on the pads of grainy glandular tissue, the girl's entire body began to weave sinuously up and down and her cuntlips seemed to suck at his knuckles.
At the same time, she locked her long arms upward and around Janice's wide hips, and pulled her face up to the open box so that she could bury her mouth in reddened, squirming flesh. Mindy pulled so strongly at the leaky little hole that Janice cried: "Oh, God, kid! You're sucking out my guts!"
There was a good deal of laughter as the three untangled. The two young kids were inclined to be a little doubtful of their status, now that their lusts had been slaked and they found themselves so completely naked in the presence of an adult. For a moment they huddled together, cunt to cunt, stealing glances at Ladron, but he stopped that with a few words.
"Cut out the teen-age dramatics and quit behaving as if this were the first time a guy ever saw your cunts," he said in coarse good humor. "I'm as curious about you two as you were about me. Come on, lie down, let me look you over. And feel you over," he laughed.
The two girls laughed, too, and came to stand above him, so that he had a perfect view of both their twats, so sweetly juvenile, so ferociously grown up.
"Wrap up in something," he said, rising to his feet and grabbing a towel. "Let's pick up our clothes and go in the house; I've got an idea. Come on," he said, taking one of Mindy's small buttcheeks in such a pinch that his fingers squished in the wet hair between cunt and asshole, "move it!"
He had no need to tell them what to do once they were in his big bed upstairs. They swarmed all over him and all over each other. Mindy's squeal as Jan's bite left teeth marks on her young tit had a vast effect, for the slender pitcher put a cupped hand over her young snatch and said: "You'll make me cream all over the coach's clean sheets!"
Terry caressed them both, looking at their flaming inner lips, each tiny vein a scarlet tracery against the wet, pink tissue. He nibbled briefly at a distended young clitoris, getting shrieks of joy and wads of come-goo. Their tits, so different in size and shape and coloring, intrigued him, and he sat on Janice's belly to thrust his cock, now hard, between the soft cushions of her tits, holding them together with his hands so that the bulging nipples shot out between his fingers.
"Oh, Jesus, Mindy, push a pillow under my head," the stocky blonde begged. "Look, by bending my head forward-ohh! ohh! look! I can lick his cock!"
To Terry, the sight of the young blonde's craning neck, his cockhead shooting out taut and purple between those marvelous pillows of titty meat to where her pink tongue could touch it, was wildly hot. It must have been so for Mindy, too, for she cried: ""Hold it a sec, Jan! Let's you and me kiss a little. No, like this-put out your tongue to mine!"
She turned her face on its side with a mischievous grin, her tongue meeting Janice's. And then, as Terry moved his cock forward, and Jan's hands joined his in pressing her soft titties around it, its head seemed to go in both young mouths at once.
They both screamed in mock anger as he pulled away, but he roughed them both up a bit, and sternly said: "You've got twenty years on me. I'm not going to waste this load shooting it into a gap between two mouths. No, babies. This," he said, fingering his hard-on, "is going to spill it in some tight little pussy. And since it's already been in Mindy's, I think I'll explode this bomb full of jism in here!" and he deliberately crowded two fingers into the exposed slickness of Jan's wide-open twat, feeling her body lunge against his hand.
It was as sweet and hot and wild a fuck as he had ever had, lasting for long hours when it seemed at times that he could not control it.
"You've made me come three more times, Coach," Janice panted as she knelt astride his loins, the big cock buried deep against the end of her cunt.
"And you've sucked me almost dry," giggled Mindy, putting two of her fingers into her young pussy and drawing them out to lick at them. "Are you going to put it in me again?"
Terry grinned, jogging his ass up and down against the soft, smooth weight of the blonde catcher, watching her big boobs bounce and sway.
"I've been missing out all my life," he said. "Or at least since I was sixteen."
At their curious looks, he added: "I thought it was smart to fuck grown women. After all, they had all those tits, all that hair on their cunts. No bigger than these," he laughed, squeezing the softly swollen boobs of the girl sheltering his cock. "And no more hair, really. I just never realized that girls around thirteen, fourteen, you know, like you two and-." He bit off the name, and Janice and Mindy looked at each other, laughing.
"Well, is it this town, or these times, or what?" he asked.
Janice leaned her jugs on him and reached down and kissed him and straightened up. She lifted her tits and looked at them, pinching one hard nipple. "I don't know," she mused, her young face serious. "We have a friend, an older person. Denny. Denny says the time to enjoy sex is when it feels the best, and it feels the best when you're not scared or guilty. So no girl should feel guilty."
"Yeah," Mindy said, her delicate face bright with interest. "Denny says that almost all young girls are hung on a cross. One arm of it is that they're hot and curious and dying for sex; the other arm is that they've been brainwashed into a, uh, a something, I forget the word, of fear and guilt. What's the word Denny uses, Jan?"
"Delirium," Jan said, rocking gently on the prick lodged so deeply and wonderfully in her stretchy young cunt. "She says that too many grown women are the same way."
"She?" Terry demanded, suddenly interested. "This Denny, it's a woman, huh?" He was so excited that he fucked hard and deep into Jan's hot, strong belly, and she clenched her teeth and screamed through them as she writhed and twisted in a new rush of come-joy. She lay limply on Terry, her big ass quivering as her cunt twisted out a tired flutter of muscle.
"Oh, let me off, Coach," she whispered. "I've had it! If I come once more, I think I'll die!"
"Horseshit!" Terry scoffed. "You could come forty more times and still fuck me into a limp piece of meat! Roll off, then, baby, and let Mindy get on it. Before it goes soft."
He watched with hot interest as the sunburned blonde, still not out of it, went to great pains to help Mindy get set. Bending down, reaching a strong hand between the slender girl's thighs, holding the black-haired cuntlips apart and guiding the hard, slick cock into the right spot.
"Come down easy, an inch at a time," she whispered. "God, that's a big cock! Does it hurt?" Her voice was lust-filled.
"Oooh!" the tall kid whimpered, closing her eyes. "It feels like it's going to split me open! But, man, it sure feels wonderful! How far is it in, Jan?"
"Halfway," the blonde kid panted. "Jesus, I'm hot again! Let me suck it out of you when he comes! Okay, Mindy?"
The slender kid banged down on it. "It's killing me!" she yelled. "Killing me, killing me, killing me!"
With each repetition of the phrase, she banged down hard.
"It's all the way in!" Jan shouted. "You're down to his balls, almost! Oh, my God!" she added as she saw Terry's tool swell, and a vast throb go up his huge tube, "I think he's coming!"
As for Terry, the lascivious sight of one kid slipping his cock into the squeezing little cunt of another kid had broken him up sexually. Hot fire, tremendous pressure, unbearable joy shot through him from asshole to cockhead as he blew another big load into a straining, clasping young pussy.
He could see the slender kid's face tighten into a mask of pain, see a red tide of hot blood wash up from her hairy young belly, across her small, pointed tits, up to the roots of her hair. He was beyond words, but he pulled the slight body down against him in a bear's grip, sucking and tonguing into the sweet young mouth in a drowning spasm of fuck-fever.
* * *
"Do come back, girls," he said to them in mock formality as they stood at his door, once more dressed, demure, sweet. "We must do this more often."
"I want to suck you half a day," Mindy hissed at him, her tender oval face twisted in animal lust. "Remember, I didn't get any of that hot goop."
"Except when I sucked it out of you, I shared it," Jan giggled. "It was just the same, except for a little of my spit!"
"You beat me," Terry said wonderingly. "That Denny! She must be some kind of a woman! Not a Lez, if she tells you to enjoy sex with men."
"Oh, Denny believes in a girl getting it from another girl. Says it's good for us. Says it will win our team a championship. But she says nothing's as good as a hard cock."
Terry gripped Mindy's arm. "Win the championship? How the hell? Who is Denny? I want to meet her."
Mindy pulled away. "Never mind," she muttered.
Terry turned to Janice. "What's she talking about?"
Mindy started for the steps. "You better cool it, Chandler," she said darkly. "Remember what Morales said she'd do to anybody that blew Denny's cover!"
The blonde shut her mouth, but came back to Terry, standing inside the door, tenderly feeling his cock through his shorts, kissing him with all the young strength and sweetness of her tongue. "You're marvelous," she whispered. "You'll find out about Denny. One of these times."
CHAPTER 7
FOR AS LONG AS HE COULD REMEMBER, Terry Ladron had been interested in sex. By the time he was sixteen, he had figured out that every woman had the same sort of hot, slick, fucking apparatus that girls had, and he was curious about this, curious enough to ask women twice or three times his age for a lay. Of course, he had the shit scared out of him a few times, with his mother's friends, some of them, at least, threatening to tell on him. But, miraculously, nobody ever told.
And so, because he was a well-grown lad and, later on, a well-set-up young man, not bad-looking, and with the guts of a burglar, he got a lot of pussy. A real big lot.
Now, after eating the big meal that Ceferina had left for him to heat up, lying alone in his big bed watching his new color television, he thought with warmth and gratitude of the unbelievable gold mine of slick, tight young cunt he had found. All over the world, he knew, there were millions of pubescent girls, just sprouting hair on their soft, springy mounds, on their thick, sweet cuntlips.
Of course, as one of the kids had said, quoting the mysterious Denny, most of them were hung up between desire on one hand, and fear and guilt on the other. Thank God, he thought, that there were women like Denny around, at least in his home town.
He never had had all the tail he wanted. All he could use, yes; sometimes he had had more than he could use. But never all he wanted. He thought of the three young bodies in which he had buried his cock, in which he had spurted his seed. All were delightful. He had a partiality to Kitty, true, but Mindy and Janice, each so different, were spectacular, too.
And they were only for starters!
He shivered with the same fierce joy that causes a hard-muscled hunting dog to tremble as he goes rigid as the rich scent of quail turns him on. Cunt, cunt, cunt!
The telephone rang and he got up to answer it, passing a tall mirror, admiring his cock, about half-hard.
"Hello," he said pleasantly, "Terry Ladron, here," and stiffened as he heard an angry voice.
"Whoa!" he half shouted. "What the hell are you talking about, Mr. Adamson? Of course I've got women 'in the house,' but that doesn't mean I'm doing anything wrong."
He listened another minute and his lips formed a silent oath. "Ceferina Gonzales cleans my house, does my breakfast dishes, fixes my dinner and leaves," he said indignantly. "The lady next door, some old maid music teacher-all right, all right, she's a goddamn dance teacher, what the hell's the difference? She's in the other side of the house. And she's got a lease, so I can't throw her ass out of here."
He covered the receiver with his hand and said "SHIT!" in a tone almost a scream.
"Members of my baseball team? My girls' baseball team?" His voice turned silky. "Of course they come by, Mr. Adamson. Why not? We're out to win the county championship for Brandeis. We talk inside baseball, play pepper in the yard, maybe hit a few fungo flies. It's a big lot, you know. Yeah, they come by two or three at a time. Safety in numbers, you know, ha-ha!"
He was sweating when he hung up, and was so fucking mad that he had to grit his teeth to keep from screaming.
The lousy, fucking old snoop! Well, piss on him.
He went to sleep easier than he expected, because all that wonderful, juicy, hot screwing had brought him into a sweet lethargy from which not even Old Riff could shake him. And he slept late, so late that he had to race around a little in order to get a scanty breakfast and make his nine-thirty class. It didn't help his temper, still warm from Adamson's nosiness.
So, as he was buttoning his shirt, once more admiring his half-hard cock in the mirror, he leaped in anger as a loud burst of music came from the other side of his house.
It gave him a quick outlet for hostility, and he took it, pounding on the wall, yelling: "Turn that thing off!"
And got a shock.
A strong, irate female voice, resonant enough with anger so that its phrases fell clearly on his ear, replied: "Why don't you go read your copy of my lease, you dumb shit?" There was a brief pause, and the voice said: "And while you're at it, why don't you go fuck yourself!"
The gutter language fell harshly on the still, cool air of morning, and Terry went and sat on his bed, his face a study. Here was an odd twist, surely; a dry-cunted old teacher using the bald, raunchy phrases of a truck driver.
His eyes were turned toward his big clothes closet, and he was struck with an idea. Years ago, when this was all one house, and his folks entertained a lot in the upstairs sitting room, now Miss Whatchacallem's dance studio, the little Ladron boy, overly smart for his age, found a grate near the back stairs, through which he could see the grown folks dancing. And see right up some of those full skirts, too. The door from his side was long gone, the other one boarded shut, but the grate was there.
With an embarrassed laugh at his own childishness, Terry got into his closet, lay full length on the floor, and tried to make out what was causing the movement, the change from light to shadow, the appearance of a fringe appearing and disappearing as a triangle of light opened and closed. Puzzling!
Then the music changed, something solid rolled away from him, getting into a better focus, and he started to sweat again.
Not more than two feet from his eyes, in the brilliant light of morning, was perhaps the most beautiful body Terry had ever seen. The thighs, shapely and strong, were covered with a thin film of-water? No, of course not; not really. Sweat, that was it. The beautiful body, turned away from him, was doing a very heavy set of calisthenics. They would have been tough for a trained athlete. Raising that long and beautiful leg, up to a forty-five-degree angle, raising it and lowering it in controlled and exact speed, to the beat of the music. No wonder the woman was sweating.
And sweat she did; he could see drops of it gather in the semicircular crease under her full, firm buttock, leaking out of the thick bush of crisp brown hair, darker around the rounded edge of her fat cuntlips. And every time the music went ta-da-da-DAH! the leg wet up and came down, and every time it went up that dark red split opened with a sucking little pop, and Terry's heart-and his cock-throbbed with it. Slusssh-pop! Slussh-pop! Open, pussy; close, pussy, until he was half out of his nut.
He was about to tear himself away, the sweat rolling down his face and blinding him anyhow, the position just too tough and cramped, when the girl rolled over, right on her hands and knees, her head hanging down. And those TITS!
Those big, firm, dark-nippled tits, so long and round and firm, begging to be sucked, to be squeezed. Not as big as those of the full-bosomed catcher. But more intriguing in their maturity. And that glorious split that showed between the thighs when the girl rolled Tram side to side was certainly not as dainty, as girlish, as the coy cunts of his three nymphets. But good God, how mature and drippy and plain, outright suckable!
That lovely sphincter above the red of the drooling cunt, so round and brown, so puckered by its fastidious tightness. He knew the wild and crazy joy of fucking into an asshole. It was not the same as a cunt. A cunt was best, no doubt about it. But there were times of deep yearning for something different. He remembered a line from a book by Anatole France, part of one of his college courses in literature.
The old Frenchman knew something, all right.
He remembered the lines exactly: "We are asked: What do you wish? And we reply: Something else!"
He had to get the hell out of there. He was late, no way around that. And he would run into Ceferina, sure as hell. Well, that was all right, but the way he felt right now, with this hard-on, Ceferina had better not flirt with him!
He backed out of the closet as quietly as he could, and put his pants on. Who in hell was that beauty? Looked to be no more than twenty. Maybe a year or two more. Jesus, what a build! And Jesus again, what a pussy! And so fit that her hide was as glossy as a panther's.
"Boy," he muttered aloud, bending to keep the rigid hard-on from murdering him, "she could make your ass touch the ceiling!"
He jerked off his shirt, now soiled and sweated, and went toward his shirt drawer.
And his entire world went haywire, in about three simple steps.
First, there was a pencil lying on his polished hardwood floor. He stepped on it, and he was in a hurry, off balance. His entire weight came down on the small cylinder of wood; his foot shot out into a painful split. His arms went up, his butt went down, his other foot, trying to catch up, tripped him and he went crashing into oblivion.
But just before his head hit the floor, he heard a sharp "crack!" and knew real terror.
That goddamned disc! That back that had betrayed him, put him out of the glamour and big dough of the major leagues! Operated on, but it was a long way from perfect.
"Take care of it," the team doctor had said. "Maybe, some day, you'll be back!"
Slip, crack, kaBOOM! The house shook, and there he was, out cold and unable to move.
* * *
Terry was still unable to move, unable to speak, when he smelled perfume, soap, cunt, femaleness, and felt soft hands tugging at his armpits. Two sets of hands.
Hazily, through a fog of despair and a headache, he saw the homely face of Ceferina, soft with concern, and the beautiful face of the naked girl who had turned him on.
She was now in a long, bright dress, chaste with thickness and opacity, but, even in his helpless state, he remembered the contours of edible flesh, lickable, suckable, fuckable items under that masking falseness that hid her beauties.
If he had looked the other way, he would have seen, down the scoop neck of Ceferina's peasant blouse, two tits of equally classic beauty, skin as soft and smooth-although perhaps a shade darker.
With the strength of two fit bodies, the two women easily hoisted him into bed.
"Maybe we ought to undress him, get him under the covers, then call a doctor," the brunette beauty said in a worried voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Ceferina replied with emphasis, reaching for his belt. "The phone's over there," she added, nodding her head.
"Hey," the girl laughed, "let me have a look at him, too! It's not often a single young lady gets a chance to look at a grown man's dong. Wow!" she breathed as the Mexican lady jerked Terry's pants down, his shorts going along from the friction. "It's a good thing he didn't fall forward-that lovely thing could have snapped right off!"
She put out a hand and touched the tremendous hard-on, and Terry, unable to move, with even his vocal cords temporarily paralyzed, could not even groan his pleasure.
That warm, soft hand encircled the hard column, moving the loose skin up and down, up and down, while her breath came faster and shallower. Her lovely mouth was open; Terry could see her white teeth, the ridged roof of her wet mouth. Oh, damn it all, if he could only raise one hand to clasp one of those tits! To pull it down to his mouth, to mark it with the scars of love and heat, to chew the nipple half off. And then what?
And then plunge this cock of his, helpless now, but oh, so hard, deep into that bubbling furrow of sucking red lips, so thickly bordered with lush cunt hair!
One more stroke and he would have shot another slick stream of hot semen into the air, onto his belly, onto someone's face.
But the beauty shuddered, shut her eyes, groaned and let go.
"Oh, shit, Ceferina!" the girl cried. "I've got to go downtown! I've got errands to do before ten-thirty! Will you call the doctor? And call the school?"
Unmoving, in no pain except the ache in his nuts from an unused hard-on, feeling sweat roll in a tickling stream down his balls, Terry had seldom felt more helpless. And this cock! He couldn't even roll over to frig himself on the white sheets, couldn't get a hand around it to jerk his way to soaring pleasure and swiftly found peace. He heard Cef on the phone.
"He hurt himself, that's all I can tell you, Riff," the comely Mexican said. Somehow, the sweet concern on her utilitarian features made her look beautiful, like the mother who had coddled him when he was sick and helpless in childhood's round of routine ailments. "Oh, you know what it is? Yeah, a slipped disc. Riff, it can't be too bad, then, can it? Good! Good! I'll call the doctor."
But she didn't.
She came back and sat on the bed, holding his hand, looking at him with so much trouble in her face that he wished he could say something, anything, to comfort her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her sensuous lower lip trembled, and at last she turned away from him, her face set. He could not believe it.
The blouse came off quickly, and now, without kidding himself, he could see that her boobs were superb. Her belly was like vellum, soft, smooth, seeming almost transparent. Above the black hairs which came up out of her skirt, almost to her deep navel, he could see the living blue veins, making traceries of pulsing blood.
When the skirt came off, he saw that her bush of black hair was big and full and long, sopping wet between her legs, where the bright shine of cunt-dew reflected light on her thighs.
And his mind said: Be happy, you dope! She's clean, she's as hot as a mink! You lucky bastard! And his cock throbbed and jerked, just as she was bending over to look at it. To kiss it, maybe? To go down on it, taking it up to the root in her mouth?
He felt her hot breath on the tenderness just under the corona, and it almost made him come right then and there. Oh, please, Ceferina, he would have said if his throat and voice-box would work, please suck it!
Instead, she took the throbbing rod in a hand surprisingly tender, squeezed it so carefully that some of the urgency went out of it, held it with her thumb just pressing under the head, so that Terry knew that he would not shoot it prematurely. To enjoy this odd experience even more, he kept his eyes on each point of interest, delighted in spite of his helplessness.
He could actually feel warmth coming from her body. Her big, soft jugs, firm enough to hold their roundness in spite of their weight, swung only a few feet from his eyes. Oh, if he could only catch them, leave his finger prints embedded in that silken flesh, suck those gorgeous, long nipples!
He looked at her opened pussy, so brightly, wetly scarlet between those huge cuntlips, framed by the thick sideburns of long black hair. And all of this took only seconds, all of it.
If miracles happened, he would have gotten his voice back so he could yell with joy as Ceferina threw one splendid thigh across him, whipped his cock up and down in her free-flowing split, and engulfed it in her pussy. It was heavenly tight, heavenly hot. Even with the generous flooding of her twat, a spate of rich clear juice that literally dripped its sweetness down his cock, her cunt was like a loving fist clamped around him, skinning his cock down until he felt circumcised, opening the nervous underside of his glans to the slick friction of a superb pussy.
And, with tears still streaming from her eyes, moaning wordless songs of lust, the woman's sensuous mouth came down on Terry's, and her long, thick tongue curled smoothly into his mouth, creating such erotic joy that his tongue, no longer inert, stirred and gripped hers in loving embrace, while the strong muscles inside her black-thatched pussy danced a fluttering maypole celebration around his happy cock.
She could not keep her strong body still, and he was glad, for he could not move his loins in unison with hers, could not swing in circles to massage each interior inch of her sucking pussy. Her broad ass, which he could see reflected in his mirror, moved up and down, made counterpoint figure eights, giving his delighted prick a far better going over than if fifteen dedicated cocksuckers were blowing him all at once. Lap, lap, suck, suck, pull, rub, milk, grip, and lap again, like a thousand small, hot tongues all going at once.
On a barnstorming trip his club had made to Japan, he had had the famous Namara Innyouee and her group of Geishas. While the Oriental lady's lovely, experienced cunt had worked his cock into a fever, her six Geishas had licked his balls, his asshole, the inside of his thighs, even the soles of his feet. And, when he had at last shot his big wad of jism, three other very young and naked Geishas had rushed at him to smother him with their hard, youthful boobs and their tiny, hairless cunts.
But it hadn't been this good!
He had thought it could not be better, but suddenly, the motherly creature with the big, coffee-and-cream-colored ass with the black-bordered red split began to come and he was transported into a new dimension of screamingly marvelous lust.
He could not buck and heave, could not use his weight and strength to slam his iron-hard cock in and out of that hot and milking sheath. And he was glad of it.
Lying still, with no feeling anywhere except in his mouth and tongue, and in his cock and balls, he could enjoy the intensity of being brought to a high-rise orgasm, the selfless joy of feeling a woman come like some heavenly love machine.
No lightweight, Ceferina brought the big ass down, skinning his cock still, so tight was her hole, until he felt the end of her cunt strain the head of his prick in painful joy. She would rest there, cunt muscles throbbing, then shoot up and gyrate with his cockhead caught in her muscular cunt-rim, and then bang down again.
He became aware of a new point of feeling. His asshole. And perhaps two inches up his rectum. Up there in the dark of his guts, where the small, powerful prostate trembles before it bursts into the crazy ecstasy of shooting a man's sperm. It was a lance of light, of pain, of pleasure, the intense pleasure that borders death and insanity as love's flood pours into a twisting, sucking, creamy-hot cunt.
And Ceferina, probably starving for cock, went berserk, hammering into him, rising and falling, her tongue washing every inch of his face and neck and ears as she thundered into a giant orgasm, and suddenly, unbelievably, Terry was thrusting and shoving and he had wrapped his long legs around Ceferina's, and he was fully aware in every nerve of his body.
Aware of the smoothly sweated belly, so richly warm on his own; aware of the hard-nippled tits moving and sliding on his breast, going down his ribs under his arms; aware of the gorgeously female perfume of armpit and asscrack and cunt heat, of the stretching of softly sheathed muscles all along his grateful body.
They both lay silent and unmoving for long moments after Terry's cock had throbbed out its final dry contraction, after Ceferina's shuddering cunt had given its last loving response.
She rolled from the bed, snatched her blouse from the floor to cover her tits, and looked wildly at her boss.
"I don't care, Mr. Terry!" she cried. "I don't care! You can kill me, you can fire me, but I had to do it! Oh, God forgive me!" she moaned, looking piously upward. "I could not help myself!"
She turned and fell on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably, but her face was buried in Terry's crotch, and her hot breath blew on his pleased balls, his tender cock, slick and sticky.
In his ears there still echoed" the subdued "crack!" which had gone unheard during the loud, wrestling fuck, when the Mexican lady, so busy with her unbridled fuck-lust, had thrown her weight on him with such ferocity.
His hand stroked her back, and he had never known skin more delightfully smooth or inviting. He felt in the damp and hairy warmth of her armpits and, unseen by the woman, raised his fingers to his nose, then to his lips, stirred by the heat attested by her lascivious gaminess. She was talking, unintelligibly because her face was pressed into his crotch, and he raised her head forcibly, asking: "What is it, Ceferina?"
"I'll call the doctor for you," the woman said brokenly. "I'll do your breakfast dishes and clean the house. Then I'll go. Oh, Mr. Terry, I know it was awful, but I couldn't help it! I'll find you another housekeeper. That is, if you can trust a whore like me!"
He exerted his strength to pull her around where she had to look at him, to where he could see her lush body, her deeply sculptured jugs, the fiercely rising crest of black hair at the base of her belly.
"Ceferina, shut up!" he yelled, and she closed her mouth at once, sitting mute like a child.
"Now," he said, smiling at her, "listen to me. I don't need a doctor, you can see that. Somehow, during our, uh, our little affair, I guess you'd call it, my back slipped back in place. But it had scared the shit out of me, right?" He held her chin in his big hand and shook her gently. "Smile!" he commanded, and the woman did, a soft, tremulous smile that made her undistinguished face lovely. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Terry!" she cried, beaming. "You're all right. And I won't leave today. I won't leave until I find a real good person to do your work."
Now that he could move his hands, he did as he had wished he could. He felt both of those warm, heavy knockers, squeezing them until Ceferina's face went white with pain and ecstatic with heat.
"Has all my cum leaked out of you?" he demanded. "Is your, uh, your-Ceferina, I'm not sure just how I ought to talk to a respectable Mexican lady of mature years."
"Formerly respectable, Mr. Terry," the woman answered with downcast eyes. "And I'm not all that old. You want to know how old? Twenty-seven. I dress older than that to keep people from talking about me. And you can talk to me like you would to Kitty. Oh!" she cried, "don't take that wrong! I just mean that modern kids say cunt and cock and fuck! Honest! I wouldn't get you into any trouble for anything!"
He laughed at her and rolled her over, pushing her legs up, pushing her thighs down on her chest.
"Get your hands under your knees," he ordered. "Hold your ass up. Your cunt," he added deliberately, smiling down at her. "Of course you won't get me into trouble. How could you?"
Terry went down to the wide-open gash that had looked so wildly appetizing seen in his mirror. Its aroma was strong, lovely, rich. There were flecks of semisolid lady-cum in the creases of her inner lips, some opaque streaks and drops of his own pearly jism leaking out of the clutching hole.
He looked up between the strong legs, seeing the eager light of total lasciviousness in the woman's black eyes. "Hold onto yourself, baby," he whispered, and plunged his mouth into the steaming pudding of pink and red flesh, the joy of her cunt's raunchy flavor twisting his guts, sending messages of awakening to his sensitive cock. He moved his lips and tongue, rooting up the sopping channel, sucking up her juice, gently chewing the thickly engorged inner lips, feeling the coarse hair from her cuntlips graze him.
Ceferina was trying to hold still, but her entire body was humping in rising passion, and he sucked deeply at the bubbly closure of her cuntal opening.
He got a mouthful of savory, richly scented cum, hot from the inner fires of her fantastic pussy, and he fetched a shuddering groan of delirium from the fiery woman. He sucked once more, deeply, deciding that, no matter what, he would not fuck her again. Not now. Later, for sure.
Now, he would give her her screaming jollies since her cunt and clit so obviously responded to sucking.
Terry crowded his hands between her thighs and chest to grab her titties, braced himself as he gave them a lovingly painful pressure, and bored into her cunt like a maniac determined to suck each petaled nerve right out of her clutch of hot flesh.
The dusky woman writhed in a convulsion of shooting lust, her powerful legs almost pushing him away, but he had the advantage of weight and his grip on her tits, so she thundered her big orgasm out in wave after wave, screaming with wild joy.
Afterward, refreshed and with a new hard-on comfortably hiding somewhere in his nuts, Terry pulled his clothes back on, smiling at the beautifully nude woman who lay so relaxed.
She rubbed at his back as he sat and put on socks and shoes, and he put his fingers between her cuntlips, caressing the wet, warm gash, hearing her laugh in quiet happiness.
"Let's have no more bullshit about you quitting, Ceferina," he said. "You're my housekeeper, hear me? We've had a wonderful, unexpected fuck. And a suck, old girl," he grinned. "Old twenty-seven-year-old dowager. Maybe, when and if we both feel like it, we'll fuck again."
"And suck, Mr. Terry?" she asked humbly. "I never sucked a man in my life, but I bet I could do it!"
"Sure, sure, Cef," he answered, touching her lips with his fingers. "If and when. You know. Now, listen, what was that about trouble? Did you say I was in trouble?"
"No, I said I wouldn't make you any trouble."
"Yeah, I heard. But you came down hard on the T, meaning you wouldn't, but somebody else might. What trouble?"
"I never said you were in trouble, Mr. Terry," she said, but there was worry in her eyes and panic in her voice. "I never said it, never, never!"
He stood up and felt with one hand for the sore place in his spine. It was gone. It was miraculous. He wouldn't bother phoning old man Adamson. He had an idea, or thought he did, of the trouble Ceferina was so reluctant to talk about. This was a mighty small town. Everybody had a kid in school, or knew a teacher, or did business with them. One word of gossip at the school, and it got around.
Well, fuck Old Riff.
He paused. Funny. Had he heard Ceferina calling the principal by his nickname? Strange, that a Mexican woman who went out to earn her living by housework should-but what the hell! He must be mistaken. Had to be.
Anyhow, he owed such a debt of gratitude to Ceferina for snapping his back into shape that he couldn't be annoyed at her for not telling him what she meant.
He looked at her again, voluptuously naked, looking utterly wanton with her legs spread. Mighty nice to have around. And if she could learn to blow a guy-wow!
CHAPTER 8
THEY CALL BRANDEIS "BASEBALL, U.S.A." wherever the national sport is played or talked about. Santa Noce County has sent more talent to the major leagues than any other in the country. Brandeis High wins the state championship nine years out of ten. But they would rather defeat Santa Noce Central High than have the team's picture on the cover of Sports Illustrated magazine. That's why both the boys' team and girls' team were still at it in September, when baseball, except for the majors, is buried under football whoop-dedoo.
It's also why the district strained its budget to hire an ex-Big Leaguer for coach, and why Terry, the ex-Big Leaguer, took the job.
A good year at Brandeis, and he'd be tapped by a good college. Maybe even Southern California.
And a good year there, and maybe he'd be back on the big circuit. If not as a player, then as a coach. He had twelve years in; he wanted to reach that fifteen-year plateau; there was a hell of a difference in the pension. Which was one of the reasons he was willing to walk the chalk line to keep in good with Old Riff Adamson. The stiff-necked old fart! But it just wouldn't do to be "fired for cause" as the school contract read. That could ruin him, now and forever. So, he decided he'd go to school. Bending over, acting a bit.
But first, he wanted to see Wells Carver. About that lease to Miss Albright. That old bitch! Telling him to go read his lease. Her lease, that is. And to go fuck himself. Wow! She was a hardnosed old party! Not like that delicious piece of stuff he'd spied on through the grate. And who had come at Ceferina's call to help him to bed.
Who the hell could she be? A pupil? Nope, too old for that. An assistant? Sure, that had to be it. Jesus, what a body! And he remembered, cameo-sharp, three-dimensional warm, the interest she'd had in his cock. She was not only eating-pussy, she was better than ordinary table-cunt. Dessert, that's what she had to be! He remembered the sweetness of all three of the young kids and the contrasting but rankly wonderful fullness of flavor as he sucked Ceferina. That girl from Miss Albright's, she'd be prime!
After those calisthenics, after that sweating, after her native heat had poured out her cunt juice, and especially after it had had a chance to ripen in the dark heat under her leotard, good God above us, what a mouth-watering dish!
Turn her ass up like he had Cef s, push those big thighs down to mash those big tits flat, open that fur-trimmed chalice of red-veined, pulsing cunt, and it would be better than ambrosia!
He had to stand outside the bank for a few minutes to let his hard-on go down a bit. Embarrassing, but something to be proud of. He might be over the hill in baseball, but not in sex.
Fuck fuck, fuck! Kitty, Mindy, Janice. And now, Ceferina. Still, it wasn't all that striking; he'd always been a quick one for recovery. And of course, the surpassing beauty and heat of all that young cunt, plus a lot. of celibacy these past two weeks or so.
He set his mind on other things and walked in, caught Wells' eye as the stocky young banker sat at his desk, and smilingly asked to see his lease to Miss Albright. Without comment, Wells sent for it, excused himself, and gave Terry a comfortable chair.
The old gal had been within her rights. The lease stated just why she'd taken the place-as a dance studio.
"No loud music between five p.m. and nine a.m., or on Saturdays, Sundays, or holidays."
Well, that was fair enough. And it had been after nine when the music started. But then, where had Old Lady Albright gone after their exchange, and when had the beautiful, syrupy-voiced young cunt come in? A mystery, but kind of funny. He chuckled.
* * *
At school, he was greeted by a number of his varsity male players as he walked through the halls, and was given a big, behind-the-hand grin and a wink from Raul Morales. Terry liked the big, quiet, tough kid. He respected him for the smooth, powerful swing which would surely carry him to the majors, just as his grace and judgment in the outfield, and his sure glove would guarantee him fame. But he felt a sharp anger, a puzzled surge of dislike at the cryptic grin and wink. What the hell was in this dummy's mind? If he knew something, God forbid, why didn't he have the sense to cool it, to keep it to himself? Maybe it was just that a guilty conscience needs no accuser, and he was carrying a hot memory of the kid's little sister right up front in his mind. And maybe it was just that he had fucked himself into a very sensitive state. He was angry and anxious.
Going to his office that adjoined the girls' locker room and the big gymnasium, still ruffled, he returned Kitty's sweet and demure "Hello, Mr. Ladron!" with a black scowl.
And when she followed him into his office, her forlorn face questioning, he sputtered: "What the hell goes on with Raul? What does he know?"
At her blank look, he thrust his house key into her hands, blurting: "Got to see you this afternoon, hear? Try to see that no one sees you. Go over right after practice. I'll get there as soon as I can."
He pushed her out the door, his hands almost burning with the feel of her young body under her thin knit shirt, and, after he'd watched all those hot little bodies, eyeing each of them as a potential fuck and also as a potential piece of jailbait, he spent as short a time as he could sucking around Riff Adamson, not subservient, only being jovial, then hurried home.
His front door was unlatched so he knew the juicy little kid was ahead of him, and he fixed the latch and shot the bolt, then did the same with the back door before taking the steps two at a time.
There was a sound of hissing water coming from his shower. He relaxed a bit and grinned; the wonderful little thing hadn't even waited to shower at school, after an hour's hot workout; she was washing off the sweat under his shower.
Terry set some kind of record in stripping, poking his head inside the streaming glass door to say: "Don't wash off all that good taste, baby!" He was almost free of fuss or irritation by the time he was under the warm stream, his cock being held and soaped by the diminutive little girl who held her face up, eyes closed against the shower, to suck his tongue into her sweet mouth.
It was wonderful beyond his memories. She was so tiny but so grown up, so naive but so eager to become sophisticated. He had almost to jerk her head off his cock, so eager was she for the feel of his prick in her mouth, the taste of his cum across her taste buds.
"I never told anyone, Terry," she vowed, her flower-like little face serious. "Not Raul, not any of the girls, nobody! Not a hint! I could never do such a thing, no matter what happened! Believe me!"
He had to believe her. "Maybe it's a morbid imagination, maybe my conscience," he admitted.
"Oh, conscience!" the child cried, a look of almost comic concern clouding her face. "I'd die if I thought you felt bad about something I forced on you!"
She held on to him, pressing her warm, slippery nakedness on him, his hardening cock caught between his belly and her tits, and wriggled in happiness.
"Feel me!" she whispered. "I'm wetter from my pussy than I am from the shower!"
In the heat of the afternoon, they ignored towels, rolling on the big, clean bed to dry off. She lounged against two big pillows, right knee pulled up so her elbow rested on it, her left knee bent but flopped down to-the bed. Her cunt, in this position, looked bigger, wider, more mature than ever, and he felt an overwhelming need to own it, to look at its every fold and hair, to smell it and suck it. And, naturally, to fuck it.
She let him pull her about, lay happily inert as he put her legs this way and that, pulling the puffed-out hairy lips apart to show the gleaming red slickness beneath, pressing his head down as he leaned in to inhale its rankly beautiful aroma.
"Maybe it was Miss Albright," he heard her say, even as he curled his tongue toward the trembling flesh.
She snuggled farther down and he kissed her thoroughly in the wet cluster of flesh, very softly, very carefully. He kissed all around, getting her slick come-fluids all over his face, and then moved up to let her suck his tongue, to taste her own sweet pussy.
"Oh, Terry, Terry!" she whispered as his face moved to her neck. "Suck my titties! Ohhh! Ohhh! It shoots down all the way to my pussy!"
Her butt heaved and bounced up at him, and he sought her redly opened slit with a finger, holding the nipple hard in his teeth for a moment, hearing her wail of pleased lust.
"Will you let me suck you off again?" she whispered, holding his face tight against her aching tittie. "Oh, suck it some more, Terry! I think I'm coming. I am! I'm coming!" It was a husky scream, and she thrashed like a fish on shore, fucking against his finger so that his knuckles shone with her cum.
"Lie quiet for a minute, Kitty baby," he whispered. "I want you to come as much as you want to, but to take it slow. We've got all night if we want it. Your aunt's not due here tonight. She brought my laundry back this morning."
He had an odd thought. Had Ceferina guessed something? She was no fool; she would know someone had been fucked in his bed, had bled on his carpet, had leaked more blood and semen on a towel.
"Could Ceferina have figured something out? About us, I mean?" he asked, keeping his finger barely touching the soft, muscular inside of Kitty's cunt.
The girl had her bare feet on his cock, smilingly playing with it, but she stopped, looked grave, and then smiled. "No way," she said. "You don't know Aunt Cef. She couldn't think that and not say something. Oh, my God, that feels so good! You know so much! Were you kidding about, maybe, some day, putting that huge thing up my poor little butt?"
She shivered and clung to him, and he felt a quick flow of cum wetting his fingers, slipping down between her buttcheeks. She would be prime for it, right now; wet, slick, tremblingly passive. Assholes are even stretchier than cunts; he could get it into her butt.
"Not yet," he laughed, squeezing her boobies until she arched her entire body upward in pained delight. "There's so much to feel, to know. We'll save it for later, okay?"
Her little body undulated, her eyes closed. Unbelievably, she was coming again, a slow, gentle spasm of love. She reached down and took his wrist, getting his finger a little deeper into her clutching pussy, holding it still while her ass rotated.
As he watched, grateful that he could experience such unconfined lust and joy, she opened her eyes, her smile angelic.
"If I get up on you and suck you, with my ass right where you can finger everything, would you press and touch all those little feel-good spots, Coach?" she asked dreamily. "I won't suck hard, just a little to feel the smoothness. If it gets too comey-feeling, tell me and I'll blow on it to cool it!"
The smell from her clean little ass, from her opened twat which, thank God, she hadn't washed too well, was so sweet that Terry pulled her butt and belly and all down to him. He began chewing on her crisp cunt hair, raining wet, sucking kisses on her little cunt, which looked surprisingly large from this view, and sucking hard on her pink asshole, penetrating it for an inch or more as she twisted and squealed in playful heat.
When she at last got up, with all the treasures of her divided rump a foot from his face, he held the hairy pussylips open while the girl gently sucked the head of his cock.
She put her hand around the stem and pulled her mouth off to giggle: "Touch me gently, Terry! This cock's so sweet it makes me want to pop. Feel me. When I finger-fuck myself, I can't put it right on my clit, it'd kill me. I press all around it. But when you suck it-or when Raul does-it seems like it's better the harder you suck."
"How about right here?" he asked, stroking his tongue over the richly blood-filled labia. "Is that good?"
She nodded her head violently, which sent her mouth down to the base of his cock. "Hey," he said shakily. "Take your lips off my dick and speak up! You damn near got a load of cum!"
She spat out his aching cockhead and flashed a merry smile over her bare shoulder. "Maybe that's what I want," she said. And then, speaking seriously: "That was the greatest experience of my life, having you shoot off in my mouth the other day. Honest!"
"Where do you really want it, Kitty?" he asked. "I'm willing to make this your party. We've got plenty of time to play, and you can say how we finish it off."
The girl turned and threw herself on him, her warm, smooth little body rubbing him, her exuberantly youthful tits squashing out like hard little balloons, the rigid nipples pressed out.
"Oh, I love it when you talk to me like that!" she cried. "Like I was your little girl, and you were giving me a treat!"
Kitty reached under her belly and took his cock in her hand, pumping it up and down with tender vigor. "I love this big old thing so much I don't know where I want him to spurt into me! Maybe all over my face, so I can lick it up! Maybe-oh, I don't know, Terry!" She began kissing him frantically, her tongue slathering her spit in his mouth, drooling down his lips, and beat her hairy little pussy mound on his belly while tears poured from her eyes and her breath came in gusts.
"Keep coming, baby," Terry whispered, jamming a finger up her wet pussy, reveling in the child's heat for him, his own passion stoked by the fire in the girl's loins. "To come like that, just from a touch, just from thinking, is beautiful," he whispered. "Rest a minute. I've got an idea."
He had her kneel on the bed, and he knelt behind her. The big mirror was arranged so they were reflected clearly.
"You know I love your armpits," he said, smiling at her in the mirror. "I'll bet you do, too."
"I nearly came when you were sucking them the other day," she said intensely. "I told you, I never knew sex could be so good. I want you to teach me everything!" She reached behind her carefully, under his cock, and felt his balls, now drawn up tight against the hard column. "What now?"
Carefully, he put his prick under her arm, let it press against the sweat-slicked hair, then pushed farther so that the big red prickhead, its one eye plainly visible, stood out a good two inches beyond her. She clamped her arm down on it hard at first, then, with an intent look on her face, released the pressure to about what a tight cunt would provide.
"Oh, golly, Coach!" she whispered, "that's so sexy! I feel like if you were just to reach under me, touch me, I'd come!"
"Not yet," he grinned. "Look." He reached over her shoulder and pressed her tit hard to one side. It touched his cock. He pushed hard under the pneumatic handful of flesh, and the nipple came right up to the straining red tip. He moved his loins forward, and the soft cockhead, backed by rigid muscle, went softly and deeply into her areola, taking the nipple with it on a lopsided stance, deep into the tenderness of her mammary gland, so that her eyes closed and her body went taut, rigid.
"Ooooh, please!" she whimpered. "It's too much, Terry! I just have to come! Please let me!"
"No!" he said. "I want you to stay hot, so you can appreciate some of the things a girl's body can do and enjoy any time. Even when she can't fuck."
Terry felt her body shift just the least bit, felt her jerk forward. He held her against him, painfully straining his mind and body to keep from coming. He held her as still as he could, clasping her body, holding her boobs. Her eyes were open and glazed with heat, her laugh was triumphant.
Very carefully, he lifted her away from him and let her collapse on the bed. "Whew!" he laughed shakily. "I underestimated you! What'd you do?"
From her limp collapse, Kitty grinned and opened one eye. "Moved and got my heel up against my snatch," she giggled. "I almost got it into myself. That's good to know."
Terry pulled her up to where he lay, tonguing her, playing with her titties again, smoothing his big hand down across her belly. She was content to cling to him, murmuring wordless nothings, feeling herself oftener than him.
CHAPTER 9
"LET'S TALK," THE GIRL WHISPERED AFTER they had lain quietly for a few minutes. "I know you're trying to keep from coming. Let's talk about other people. It'll cool us off."
He had a question. "Janice and Mindy sucked each other," he said. "Oh, don't jump and look at me. I've got a pretty good notion you knew they were here. Don't lie."
The girl laughed. "They told me. But honest, Terry, I did not tell them anything about us. Yeah, they play with each other. You don't think they're Lezzies, do you?"
"No," he answered. "I thought it was nice. I never sucked another guy's cock, but I can see where girls, if they had the sense to be crazy about their own pussies, and lacking the ease of chasing sex that men have, would love another girl's cunt.
Does that make sense, or am I a male chauvinist Pig?"
She twisted down and tenderly sucked the throbbing head of his cock. "You're the sweetest, hottest, most wonderful daddy in the world," she said. "Oh, you taste so good!" She sucked at his dick ferociously for a couple of seconds, then drew away regretfully. "Look at him swell up!" she cried. "That monster!"
The child moved to lie with her face on his chest, and her voice was dreamy. "We all suck each other," she said. "Everybody on the team. I swore I'd never tell, but I don't care! I'm so happy, and it's for you, and I feel so-so warm and close!"
Terry was alert, shaken by the surprise of his life, aroused by this fantastic story, an even more fantastic confidence.
"Suck each other for me?" he asked, careful not to let his shock appear. "What in hell does that mean?"
Her face was tear-streaked and frightened when she raised her head to look at him. "Do you absolutely promise and swear and cross your heart that you'll never tell? Because they'd kill me. I mean it. The others would kill me! Besides, there are really two or three that may hold out. They're kind of scared."
"I never heard of a club or a group of girls doing that particular thing unless that was the reason for being a club in the first place," Terry said slowly. "I won't tell. Promise!"
Kitty dropped her eyes. "You said something about doing things when a girl can't fuck. You meant monthlies, didn't you? A girl's period."
"Maybe. Maybe I didn't mean anything in particular. I've known girls who liked to screw when they were loose and hot and slick from a period. They liked balling better then. I plan on you and me fucking each other when you come around next time."
The little girl closed her eyes and shivered, then fell on him and sucked at his lips and tongue fiercely. "Wow!" she gasped. "That sounds hot, hot, hot! All that white juice shooting up into me, mixing with all that blood and junk! Wow!"
She settled herself back and looked straight at him. "Okay. Some doctor found out something about helping women. You know how most girls feel lousy around that time? Some of them really feel rotten. Cramps, backache, headache, depression. You know?"
He nodded and stroked between her naked buttcheeks, idly fingering her wet crack.
"So this doctor uses a pump. A lady we know told us about it. When a lady's period starts, zoom! In goes the pump, he gets it going, out comes all that blood and goo and that sort of grainy, dark-red stuff. You ever hear of Germaine Greer?"
"Woman's Lib person," he answered, but his mind was on ten million ripening cunts, swollen from the moon's fullness, with ten million wombs beginning to quicken, to awaken, to get ready for the menstrual cycle. Ten Million Billions, everywhere. He so loved cunt that anything, absolutely anything about a woman's fucking apparatus gave him the thin shiver of a cock-throb.
"Yeah, you better believe it," the little girl said, with a sort of challenge to the male world in her voice. "She's some kind of great, that Greer chick. She says if a woman never stuck her finger up herself during a period, if she never has found out what that flow tastes like, she's got a long way to go!"
Having eaten pussy under almost every circumstance imaginable, Terry laughed and patted the child's rump. "Couple of times, going down on someone in the dark, I've come away looking like someone hit me in the face with a tomato."
"Did it taste any different?" the little brown girl asked.
"No. Thicker, of course. More of it. I liked it all right. It seemed richer, I guess."
"Oh, my God!" Kitty cried. "Jeez, that makes me hot! When I come around, will you suck me? Just a little?"
"Yes, I will. But get back to the subject. The championship. I think I know the plot."
"Well, I don't know whether all women have periods at the same time. I know they don't. But most of us do. And we don't have a pump. You see, that pumping, it gives a girl her whole entire period in about a half-day. Gets all that crap out, kills the depression, knocks out the backaches. It's really true, Coach!" she cried. "We've tried it!"
"So?"
"So, no matter what date the championship falls on, if one of us has a period, or all of us, we suck each other! Get it? And we don't play under a handicap!"
Terry closed his eyes and held his breath. His cock, swollen almost to bursting, was ready to shoot. The mental picture was too much! "God, Kitty," he said. "How I'd love to see that! A line of you little beauties, your little twats up and opened, and all those sweet mouths sucking and licking! Have you done it yet? Come around here. Lie down. I'm about to come, baby, so you better decide how you want it."
"In my cunt!" the girl said tensely. "Oh, hit me hard! Slam it in! I'm dying for it! Oh, God, my pussy!" Her lithe brown body squirmed and undulated; it appeared likely to Terry that she had been swept into another orgasm.
His own urgencies spurred him to brutality. With one big hand, he encircled most of one of the firm thighs, holding the girl in spite of her screams, and with his other hand, he bent his straining cock down to the red, slippery pussy.
Twice he almost had it in and the girl's struggles took the ring of muscled membrane away from his aching rod. If his need had not been so great, it would have been funny, but he was obsessed with the drive to plunge his cock into that hot slash, to spout his reeking seed into the darkness of that beautiful cunt.
By chance, the girl was straining up at the precise instant that he next slipped the head and an inch of cock into her box; he let go and she flung her body up so that she literally impaled herself on him. For a shocked instant he saw it all, her belly, the width between her spread thighs, the small, clenched ass, all seemed pitifully small beside the breadth of his cock. Impossible that it should go in without splitting her.
But there was a new factor at work, the factor of a greater heat than the girl had known before, and it made even her childish tightness come open to welcome this hard, necessary tool.
Terry knew she must be still sore from the ripping of her maidenhead such a short time ago. In that slick darkness, the wounds would still be raw and bleeding.
But here, too, that greater heat must have had anesthetic qualities. As he drove in, banging solidly against the end of that girlish channel never stretched and opened but once before, his ears rang with her thin, agonized scream as his swollen tool rasped those bloody surfaces. But she gripped his body as hard as she could, and the wail became: "Fuck me! Oh, fuck me!"
His clenching prostate gland, his driving butt, his big balls emptying themselves as the white streams shot over her immature womb were only a part of his joy. There was the satin feel of her perfect thighs trying to grip him, the slick rub of her warm little belly against his, her tongue going slack and soft in his mouth as she shot her own great wad of love and heat. There was her sweet breath blowing hot in his mouth and nostrils, the gut-tingling smell of cunt and sperm and sweat.
He continued to fuck long after he was all through shooting semen into her gushing quim, and she rolled against his drive, sucking up a grating, broken laughter from overtaxed lungs even as she -rimmed her tired tongue around the drooling areas of his mouth.
"I never had it better, Kitty baby," he gasped, holding his body up off of her slight frame. "You've got the greatest cunt I ever knew or ever heard of!"
"Lie down on me!" she ordered. "Mash my tits! Mash me! I want to feel you on me." She kissed him voraciously, sucking his mouth dry of spit. "Ohhh, that's so beautiful! Why does it have to end?"
Her inner muscles contracted sharply, as they had been doing all the while, but this time his cock was half-soft, and her gripping cunt squeezed it out of her hole. She cried out angrily and bucked up, but his fucking was done for a while, and he drew away, looking at her with all the love he could muster.
"I really filled you full of jism, baby," he said. "Or you really milked it out of me." He handled his wet and sticky cock. "Look at the blood! That's from where I got your cherry!"
She lay with one arm bent, one small hand up near her smiling mouth, her sweet little face quizzical, teasing.
"I'd like to say I could do that all night," she said. "But it'd be a silly lie. You squirted enough of that stuff into me to put out my fires. But I'm still hot enough to want something. Will you do it for me?"
"If it doesn't need a hard-on," he grinned.
"Suck me out," she begged softly, touching his bloodied cock. "Suck out your cum, and mine, and the blood. Don't swallow it, just hold it in your mouth, and let me suck it out of you."
Kitty's pussy seemed so large, now that the long play, the hot talk, the build up to raging heat, and the brutal, animal fuck had relaxed it. The inner lips were still swollen, but were losing their deep magenta hue. Her hole was actually sagging open, so that he could see the slick, reddened interior for more than an inch. It was touching and lovely to him.
He got his lips placed just right and made one preliminary suck to make sure the seal was perfect. The girl whimpered and rolled her head on the bed, eyes closed, and this time he drew as hard as he could, getting a big mouthful of slick, warm goo. Kitty beat her small fists against the bed, but gasped "More!"
Terry had his forearms around her thighs, hands on her belly, and he sucked once more, getting one big dollop, then nothing whatever, and knew he had literally sucked the walls of her cunt together. Slamming those raw nerves into each other must have half killed the girl, but he thought he had what she wanted.
She was shaking and her lips were trembling, but she opened her mouth like a baby bird waiting for her mother to feed her.
He put his sticky lips softly around her soft mouth, and let her sip the richness of their cum at her own speed. His lips felt tired, but it was lovely to feed this elixir of life to this super-hot little chickie. So young, so small, so hot!
His shrunken dick, lying on his thigh, felt a tiny throb of life as he pushed his tongue like a plunger, and felt the girl's slow, appreciative suction as she savored each drop. His hands were on her young titties, now soft, the nipples gone back to normal size.
They were both drained.
* * *
Terry did not urge her to stay. There was always another day. Or another night.
The blonde strength of Janice Chandler, the tender animalism of the skinny but beautiful Mindy Kahn, the kaleidoscope of young tits and bellies and cunts as he looked into the locker room-he thought of them all. "I was made to fuck," he muttered, grinning. "God made me the way I am."
He wiped himself off with a damp towel, but left his cock alone.
From his upstairs bedroom, he saw Kitty duck into a clump of bushes, and saw why. Wells Carver, striding briskly up the drive, his face set in a businessman's grin.
He was dressed and ready with a drink when Wells came in.
"I won't keep you, Ter," the banker said. "I've wanted to tell you something you maybe don't know." He gestured at the window, where rolling lawns and old shrubbery flourished.
"You've been away so long, I don't expect you've been in touch with the real-estate market," he said, grinning, leaning over to put his hand on Terry's who unconsciously moved it.
"I wasn't in a vacuum, Wells," Terry said drily.
"Yeah. Sure. Not in a vacuum. But there's been a boom around here."
"And you've got a buyer for my home, right?"
Wells leaped up, more theatrical than ever. "Have I got a buyer? A dozen. Terry, you've got a gold mine here. A lot this big-boy, your granddad knew what he was doing!"
"All the old settlers got a block," Terry said. "My folks hung on to theirs. That's all."
"Well, sure. But it's only a couple of blocks from downtown." He waved to the south. "There's my bank, sticking up over the trees. Imagine what this place'd be worth as an apartment-house site!"
"I know," said Terry. "A million or two."
Carver gasped. "You're nuts!" he said, his mask slipping. "Half of that! No more!"
"Makes no difference," Terry said. He yawned. Man, how a long, slow fuck relaxed a guy! He stood up pointedly. "Because, Wells, I'm not selling."
"Not for any price?" The banker's lip curled. "Boy, you don't know what's good for you! No way. You may want to get out of this some day." He went to the door, his face red. "You ought to sell right now, while you've still got a reputation. And a job."
Terry laughed. "Jesus, Wells, how did you ever get to be a banker? You're too damned anxious, too pushy. You ought to know I never took kindly to being pushed."
The dark, stocky man tried to smile. "Sorry, Terry," he said. "I guess I get too enthusiastic sometimes. Seeing an old friend missing an opportunity. You know."
"Sure," grinned Terry. "I know. An old friend that may be in trouble and have to jump town, naturally he needs money. That what you had in mind? Well, goddamn it, what kind of trouble are you talking about? Who've you been talking to? I whipped your ass a half dozen times when we were kids-you want me to do it again?"
Carver set his jaw and walked to the door. "Suit yourself, dummy," he said. "I never specified any trouble. You did that. You give yourself away. You're letting a taste for cunt cloud your judgment."
"Maybe so, Carver," Terry answered. "But listen, buddy. Whoever gets fucked around here, and whoever does the fucking, it's not going to be me getting fucked out of the old homestead. And damn sure, not by you!"
He leaned against the door after Wells, wordless with anger, had strode down the drive.
He thought of all that had happened.
"I need to fuck like some guys need money," he said aloud, and grinned happily. "Turds like Old Riff and Wells Carver-what do they know?"
He went into the kitchen and turned on the oven. Sex made a guy's other appetites even sharper. "Man, I'm hungry," he said. "Let's see what Ceferina left."
CHAPTER 10
IT WAS ALMOST NINE-THIRTY WHEN Terry finished a mammoth breakfast. No classes until eleven-fifteen on Fridays; he could take his time. The sun had been up a few hours; this time of year, it got hot early. The thought of the pool intrigued him, and he strolled out, in his faded bush shorts.
He was thinking with tenderness of Ceferina; he didn't want to be in the house with her, since he'd have to have some of that hot, juicy tail. She was fantastic!
He was shuffling along, head down, feeling the warm rise of his prick against his thigh as he thought of how that Mexican cunt had kept its tightness, of how its owner had screamed as she slid down his pole of meat, and he almost fell into the pool when an amused voice said: "Good morning, Mr. Ladron!"
His pool had never looked so good. And he had never been startled more pleasantly.
The girl with the blue eyes and the dark-brown hair was in the pool. She was holding onto the coping on the far side, and had let her body float up until it was just on the surface. Parts of it were sticking up above the surface. Actually, the most important parts. Two lovely breasts, darkly tanned, with white bikini stripes giving a milk-white background for the dark areolas, the long nipples. And her cunt mound, crested with long, dark hair, holding shining droplets of water. Yes, all of that, plus the roundness of belly. The lady was naked.
Confused, and slightly irritated at being off his stick, Terry took to irony. "Oh, excuse me!" he exclaimed. "Sorry to intrude on you so unexpectedly!"
The girl laughed, swam over to his side, and reached for his ankle. "Come on in," she said. "After all, it's your pool. And after all, I saw you yesterday, just as bare-assed as I am."
She was so sweet, so warm, so unaffectedly good-natured that Terry was charmed. Once in the pool, they splashed and played, and she not only allowed him to feel her up, she seemed to invite it. Finally, as they stood breathless with their toes just touching bottom, and water up to her chin and Terry's armpits, she very softly and deliberately took hold of his cock, looking closely at him.
Whether her pull on his tool moved him to her or her to him didn't matter; all at once they were kissing, sucking at each other's tongues in a frenzy of heat, and his cock had come up hard in her hands, and she was doing her best to get it inside her snatch, both feet off the bottom, one leg up around his waist.
It went in without too much trouble, and Terry knew that she had to be hot and juicy, for water dissolves the slick cunt-ooze and makes entry into a twat a painful business. Only not this kid. His dick hung at the entrance, then went in with a slipping, sliding rush. And she was as good as she looked!
Terry said: "Hang on, baby. Let me move you back to the deck," and she moaned: "Just shove it in and twist it hard!"
He was as excited as a school boy, slamming his cock in, pulling it out, but connoisseur enough to watch her face, her closed eyes with the veins showing so plainly in her lids, the sun was so bright. He wasn't just fucking her; she was fucking him, too, and she was marvelous. Her cunt was not so tight as, say, one of the three young kids he'd laid. Maybe not even as tight as Ceferina. But hot-goddamn! And she could have waved a flag staff with those cunt muscles!
He felt his balls tighten as they did before an orgasm, and he slowed down. This was too good a screw to rush. He had almost forgotten his manners, he had gotten so hot, but now he felt for the girl's glorious jugs, finding the nipples hard and long, and held them in his big hands like toy balloons, squeezing them so that she came up on tiptoe as the titty-heat shot down to her loins.
Terry lowered his mouth to hers, then, and took her tongue, long and sweet and searching, into his mouth, marveling at how these two things, the tit squeezing and the tongue bath, raised them both to high heat.
He had her bang against the pool side now, driving into her pussy with a song of lust in his heart, when the quiet air was rent by the sharpest, loudest, most idiotic blaring of an auto horn that Terry had ever heard.
It startled them both so that they broke apart, and Terry, burning with rage, looked at the girl and said: "Wait a minute-I'm going to beat some jerk's ears off!"
He almost forgot his shorts, but the girl whistled and pointed to them, and he angrily got into them.
When he rounded the corner of the house and saw who it was, he stopped dead, and his anger was more intense. Riff Adamson!
He tried to remember that this man was his boss, but he also thought of that simply marvelous pussy he had been forced to pull out of. His lips were white with rage as he strode up to Adamson's car. But the old bastard beat him to the punch.
"Don't you work for me anymore?" he demanded. "Okay, you hurt yourself yesterday. It was all right for you to stay home."
"I was there in the afternoon. We had practice-I talked to you."
"Yeah, and I figured you'd make it up today. But where were you? Lying around, swimming, being a playboy!"
"You wanted me to make up for yesterday?" Terry demanded. "With no classes scheduled? And the kids not notified?"
"You could always do some paperwork," the old man growled.
"Honest to God, Mr. Adamson, this beats me," Terry said. "I've got fourteen days sick leave coming to me. Take yesterday morning off of that. Unless you want me to come over to your house and mow your goddamned lawn to make it up."
Adamson, his face unsmiling, started his car. "I'm trying to be your friend, Terry," he said grimly. "Don't push me!"
Adrenalin was pumping through Terry's veins when he went back toward the pool. "The old son of a bitch!" he muttered. "Well, if he thinks I'm going to bust my ass getting over to school, let him run an instant replay!" He chuckled, visions of that gorgeous girl and her hospitable cunt warming him, and cursed bitterly when he saw she was no longer in the pool.
In an unreasoning rush of anger, he hammered at Old Lady Albright's door until, realizing the dance teacher was not at home, he decided the hot young assistant had flown the coop.
It was fantastic how anger had cooled him out. His cock hung limp when he walked in and slammed the door behind him. Automatically, he started upstairs, and his heart leaped when he heard the music in her voice: "I'm in here, Mr. Ladron! On your bed!"
And there she was, still naked, wide open to his view, her beautiful legs spread wide, so that a crimson line of wet pussy gleamed through the drying tangle of dark hair.
His good nature and his hard-on came back magically; he had his face buried in the soft, fragrant pussy before one could say "Suck it!" and he looked up at her merry face through a deep fringe of cunt hair, his tongue burrowing for her
: clit.
"You maniac!" she cried, pressing his head into her puffy gash. "You wonderful maniac! God, that feels great! Whew, that hit me right on the-ohhh! Wow!" She squealed and tossed her lovely body,, her strong thighs gripping Terry's head until his ears rang.
He held her down, keeping his sucking mouth in the bubbling trough of slick flesh, lapping up mouthfuls of her cum, and let go only after she had heaved a final sigh and he heard her whisper: f "Come up here, baby!"
She pushed one of those gorgeous boobs at him; the nipple was long and hard; it had been a I thorough orgasm for her.
She held his cock with tender expertise, looking at him, then at the red-tipped peter, and suddenly ducked her head to lick the glistening drop of come-dew from its single eye.
"Hard as rock," she whispered. "Is that why they're called peters? Petrus, rock-aren't I silly? ; Talking about Latin when all I want is this!"
She whirled her athlete's body and put her strong thighs next to his head, dropping her lips to encircle his cockhead, going down so hard that he struck the back of her throat, giving the most sensitive areas of his prick a shattering burst of feeling.
Her long hair hid her face and he lifted a handful so he could see her. As near as he could tell, she r was smiling.
He let her suck for a minute, then pulled her over to his mouth, burrowing under the archway of soft, muscular flesh crowned, with dark hair. There was a musky sharpness in this slick cover where her clit trembled. It was strong and wild and completely hot and he chewed into the soft folds of membrane with controlled ferocity, hearing the vibrations of her passionate scream all through his cock.
She pulled away and jumped on him, laughing. "You're a real man!" she cried. "Bless you for it! God, how good it seems to be eaten by a man!" She jerked the skin on his cock up and down, but without roughness. "Damn you, anyhow, Terry Ladron!" she cried. "You must have fucked Ceferina yesterday. Who could leave this cock alone? You spent all afternoon making some young kid holler for more. And now, look at you! You're so hard I could chin myself on it!"
She held his balls in a firm, gentle grasp and smacked her mouth down again, giving his cock that jolt against her throat.
Terry pulled her off his dong, and held her close, biting at her tits, getting his entire hand over her soft, flowing split, finally rolling her over. "I want to fuck you," he said in a simple, conversational tone, and she laughed like a little kid.
"Here it is," she cried, pulling her legs back, knees almost at her collarbones. "Let me watch it go in! Oh, Jesus!" she cried as he knelt above her, "that cock! Hurry, please!"
She held her head high off the bed, looking right down the smooth valley between her tits to watch the red head sink into her. The beauty watched the slow movement of the big column, now red with desire, feverish with unspent jism, as it stretched her twat, nothing moving in her body except for the slow, delicate nibble of her cunt muscles, welcoming the hard prick in.
"You're clear in," she panted, her body quivering. "Feel my cervix? You're past it! Oh, what a man! Just hold still and let me love you, baby!"
She began to rock, holding her ankles, her strength more than a match for Terry's weight, and as he felt her entire body move to work his cock inside the gripping cunt, he knew that this girl was someone very special. Not just a beauty, not just a marvelous piece of ass, hot enough to fry eggs on. She was good, a good, sweet person, compassionate, courageous. Even in a mean-spirited, hidebound town like Brandeis, they hadn't been able to quench her spirit, her headlong zest for life.
"Now, you lie still," he commanded softly. "Put those beautiful legs around me. There, like that. Don't strain, baby. You aren't going to have to drive me into you!"
Her cunt gave him a hard nip, and he lurched against her, choking with laughter. "Don't do that!" he cried. "I want this to last at least until you come."
She hugged him, holding his face, pouring tongue into him. It felt long and hard, very much, he imagined, as a man's cock would feel in a girl's mouth, and he marveled that she could drive it so deep. What a girl friend she'd make for some girl, he thought, and was amused that he would attempt to hold off his ejaculation by such offbeat ideas.
He began to push in and pull out in very tiny movements, holding the weight of his big body against her so he could be the boss, and he could feel the vibration against his tongue as she either cried in joy or protested. She was warm inside, wet and slick and very, very tight, and his cock never lost contact with the hardness of her cervix or the closed end of her cunt. Only when she began to beat at him with her fists did he release her tongue and stop his motions, looking at her with a smile.
"I'm right at a peak," she gasped. "I've had about four or five orgasms since we began. Would you just as soon do a sixty-nine with me? That way, I can have one more great, big come, and I want to suck in your jism just when I shoot it. Would you?"
Terry kissed her, pulled out, and lay on his back.
"Oh, wonderful!" she whispered shakily. "May I be on top?"
She gave him a big pillow, but he said: "Let's make it on our sides. I can get more of your cunt in my mouth, and you'll have more freedom to move on my dick."
The sweet, strong flavor of her dripping pussy seemed to have increased, the red and swollen inner lips seemed bigger. He found no need to hold the thick outer lips apart, since they were rolled back from inner heat, but he got a thumb in at the very top of her pussy to pull the protecting lips off her clit.
Her throat ached around his cock; he knew she must be almost choking since he had felt his glans strike the soft closure at the back of her throat and then slip in another two or more tight, contracting inches. God, the way she was swallowing!
He pulled his mouth away from the oozing hole, the slobbery lips and said: "Am I too deep for you? Am I choking you?"
She shook her head vigorously, and he thought he would come for sure; it was like the wildest gyration of a cunt. But he thought he knew what she was trying to do-make him come first.
He grinned in the slick, hot gulch which wriggled against his cheeks, and made sure he had her clitoris between his upper lip and his tongue. When he proved, by her startled leap, that he had the jerking little bud of tissue and nerves where he wanted it, he began thrusting his cock into her strained throat. She had already told him she could come just from sucking him; he imagined that what she needed was just a bit of brutal action, and he gave it to her. And then, holding her clit with lip and tongue, he began to hum, a high baritone note, feeling an almost electric vibration in his mouth.
At once, she began to go crazy, thrashing that marvelous body in a frenzy, but he had gotten his grip before he started the humming and he ground his mouth against the seat of her orgasm. And he, feeling the trigger of his release go off in that thrilling blast of a come's first jet, gripped her face between his thighs, sucked harder as the girl continued to buck, and let his throbbing cock spout joyfully in her sucking mouth.
They came apart by slow degrees. He loosened his thighs and heard an explosive breath go out of the girl's lungs, then heard her laugh softly.
Her head moved; he felt her tongue licking up stray drops of semen all around his prick, and he kept his mouth directly over the entrance to her pussy, gently sucking out the generous flow of her fluids. He chewed very gently on the folds of slick flesh, his nose an inch from her asshole, and smiled to think that, if all went well, he would stretch that golden brown sphincter.
When she at last sat up, tossing her long hair back, giving him a merry smile, he realized again how sweet she was, how good a person, how open and unaffected.
"I hate to eat and run," she joked, "but I've got work to do, and so have you."
She leaned to kiss him, and rolled her eyes. "I'm just a bit overripe, aren't I?" she asked. "No? You like it that way?" She hugged him delightedly. "I'm so lucky to find you! A single girl in a bitchin' town like this could go crazy!"
She got out of bed in one graceful movement and into her dress. "Sorry to rush, but I must," she said.
He took her wrist. "Wait a minute. What is your job? What do you do for Old Lady Albright?"
"Oh, my!" she smiled. "It's too long a story Just say I do most of her work. Okay?"
She twisted away and out the bedroom door, laughing, and Terry slowly, in a lazy kind ol happiness, dressed and went off to school. Once more, he had reason to feel grateful for his love o life, his innate ability to fuck without debilitation to remain on a high level of sexuality. "But with such cunt," he muttered laughingly, "who could get sick of it?"
Most of the rest of his day passed uneventfully He saw Riff Adamson in the hall, and they nodded at each other; he hit grounders to his varsity as they took infield practice, and walked over to the Brandeis diamond to put his girls' team through a rigorous hour. He was proud of Kitty and Janice and Mindy, not just because they shone at their positions and on the field, but because none of them took any liberties with him.
True, Janice pretended to have something wrong with her chest protector, and opened her shirt right under his nose to rub at one of her big pinky-brown nipples, but she did not look at him as she rubbed at it.
But he thought of all of them, and he paid more attention to the small girl with the soft little tits and the hairless pussy, the one who had spoken of the coach's cock as he looked in on the shower room scene the other day. She had the innocence of all childhood on her face; he could simply not imagine a child like this entertaining such lewdness in her cute head.
After practice, he found his cock stretching along the leg of his uniform, and hurried to his office. He took off the Brandeis flannels and stood in his underwear to peer through his peephole into the shower room. It had become one of his sweetest little pleasures, a real bonus on his job.
It was impossible to concentrate on any one of them; they were all so sweet and tender and different. The little kid they called Debbie-what was it? Debbie Forrester-looked smaller and younger and sweeter than ever. She had not been in the shower yet; he saw, in the bright light, that she did have some hair on her protuberant little cunt. But not much, and it was a buttercup yellow, even lighter than the hair on her head. Was she smaller than Morales? He looked for Kitty and did not see her. He saw Mindy, in a shower stall with some bigger girl. The water was streaming down, and they were hugging each other lewdly, but none of the others was watching. It wasn't Janice with Mindy; it was the butch-type kid who played centerfield and also pitched.
Strange and beautiful, how a girl so apparently unfeminine could, by the simple act of stripping off her clothes, become so womanly, so desirable. Cissie Norton, that was her name. Short hair, snub nose, square jaw, and shoulders broader than her hips. Still, her boobs, while only medium in size, were absolutely perfect in their tip-tilted avocado shape; her small butt was simply beautiful.
She had a tremendous mass of curly blonde hair on her cunt-no, on her belly; it ran almost from one pelvic point to the other, and ran, long and thick, down between her thighs.
His cock throbbed, and Terry, his eye glued to the peephole, stroked it unconsciously. What an idea! If the kid really did have a Lesbian leaning, how perversely hot and exciting to fuck her. Maybe against her will, against her cries and pleadings. Or to hold her and suck her, and prove to her that a man's tongue can be as knowing, as tender as a woman's.
He actually had a firm grip on his hardening, pleasantly tingling cock, milking it up and down in an old familiar way, grinning slack mouthed as Cissie bent over for a bar of soap, a broad slash of coral pink showing between her big, puffy cuntlips. God, she was hairy! The long, curly hair grew thickly down her thighs, right on past her cunt hole, up the crack of her ass to the base of her spine.
He thought of chewing on that mass of hair, and his cock gave a real throb. The gorgeous brunette with the blue eyes and the wonderfully mature body, even his three team lovelies, even the soft-bodied little Debbie, were forgotten as Terry mentally devoured the Norton girl's pussy.
There was a click of the lock on his door behind him, a deadly moment of silence while Terry wondered what disgrace he had brought on himself, and there was a swift, light rush of feet across the room.
It was all so quick that he did not even lose his hard-on. He hadn't been able to see Kitty down there because she wasn't down there; she was on the stairs, on the way to him.
Her young face was twisted and she was crying as she threw herself into his arms, one warm little hand going down to take hold of his hard prick.
"Oh, Coach!" she whispered brokenly, "I hurried! Did you need me so much? Oh, please!"
She dropped to her knees between his hard thighs and took the big cock into her mouth, sucking gently, sending shivers up his spine as her warm, hard little tongue knowingly licked each spot of tingling delight.
Very practically, Terry asked: "How about the door?"
"I locked it," the dark little girl smiled at him, holding his prick in her hand, just at her mouth. "But can we take the chance of someone wanting in?"
Terry picked her up and carried her to his desk, stripping down her practice shorts as he did so.
The hot odor of young pussy swirled up to make his mouth water and his tongue curl. He was so hot that he debated shoving it into her twat at once, but the promise of that cunt perfume got to him. Maybe her head hit the desk as he laid her down; she didn't cry out and he didn't notice; his only desire was to get as much of that sweetly reeking cunt in his mouth as he could.
He still had the long, thick pelt of Cissie Norton in mind, so he sucked at hair and all, getting a salty tang that came from crotch sweat as well as cunt squeezings, and he bit into the hair and flesh with controlled savagery to get to the flaming clit as soon as he could.
The little Mexican, her thighs as wide as they could go, hung on to his hair, pumping up and down against his mouth in a fury of orgasm, and he dropped his mouth a notch to catch the clear, sweat-enriched flow from her cunt.
In a fierce desire to get his nuts off before anyone could possibly get up his steps and knock on his door, Terry held the child as he had the previous afternoon, knowing she was coming, crowding his cock into her writhing slash of reddened flesh. He stabbed into her hole, and once more, she was so hot that her tight little cunt let him in swiftly, although his force skinned his cock back against her tightness.
Come-fire swept through him, up from his straining balls, through the distended tube, and he rubbed his mouth into the sweated profusion of dark hair on her head, its taste and smell as sweet as clover as he poured his hard jets of slick seed into her. He felt her straining up to keep her hot little belly pressed against his own as the wet heat of slick cum spurted against her womb, stretching her cunt with its pressure.
The coach was half blinded with sweat, and almost ashamed of his quickness in coming, but the little kid, her thighs still locked around his waist, gave him a fierce grin of satisfaction, so that he again marveled at her capacity for sex. And he grinned back at her, knowing that she created an animal mood in him as he did in her, and that this ferocity made their fucking that much better.
"I know what you want, Kitty baby," he whispered, and pulled her taut little ass up, up, so he could suck her clean of his cum and hers. And once more, as he had the previous afternoon, he transferred it to her mouth slowly, droolingly.
Hot women, he thought. They're so sweet, so great-the dark girl who works for the dance teacher, this lovely, tiny child with the sleek body, the wise mouth, the gifted pussy.
There was not the slightest need to apologize for coming too quickly, for being found with a hard-on, jerking off. The dark little girl kissed him and, clung to him a moment, laughing in sheer pleasure.
A minute later, she let herself out the door, looking out first to make sure she would not be seen. And Terry licked his lips, enjoying the sweet flavor, slack with release, filled with joy.
CHAPTER 11
FOR A MOMENT, THE NEXT MORNING WHEN he heard the music from next door, Terry forgot it was Saturday. He felt so kindly toward that girl next door that he almost felt friendly toward that old harpy, Miss Albright, and hated to appear churlish.
Still, an agreement was an agreement; the old battle axe had ribaldly invited him to go fuck himself when she had been within her rights according to the terms of the lease. Now, Terry was in the right.
Jovially, then, he beat on the wall, thinking maybe this would be his chance to meet his tenant face to face. Not likely her young assistant would be there on a Saturday morning.
So, when a sweet voice called out "Sorry!" and the volume of music was cut to a whisper, he cried out, his cheek against the dividing wall: "It's okay! Go ahead. I was kidding!"
It was fun to review the week. All that tail! Marvelous! And more to come, he hoped. Would he dare try to get into that babyish-looking little chickie they called Debbie? He was living dangerously just as it was, but that little kid looked to be no more than thirteen. Still, she had tits, her cunt might be nearly hairless, but it was fat and woman-sized. He remembered his pledge: "If they fuck me, I'm gonna fuck them!" and laughed, pleased with his guts. .
Well, he could rest up this weekend. He'd had plenty; no use in fucking himself into a decline just because the stuff was there. Maybe he'd take a quiet swim; breakfast was long over; maybe he'd jog over to the school and do some of that bookwork that Old Riff was so hot for.
He was rummaging in a drawer for his surfer trunks when he heard voices coming from the open door of his closet, and remembered how he had looked through that old grate, long forgotten when they remodeled. It would be fun to peep in on them once more; maybe see what Old Lady Albright looked like; maybe see some of her little pupils, lithe and fetching, in their leotards.
As quietly as he could, he moved boots and shoes and boxes, took a couple of pillows for comfort, and lay himself down to see what he could see.
His gasp of amazement and interest was almost too loud; he saw that gorgeous girl, whose name he didn't know, glance at the grating. But how could he have helped it? It was a scene out of the most lascivious voyeur's hottest dream! Fantastic!
Four girls, ranging from about thirteen to fifteen, and all of them beautifully, smoothly naked, stood sober faced in a semicircle, their feet wide apart, their fingers in their twats, watching the older girl.
"Feel for your clitorises very gently, kids," she was saying in a quiet, soothing voice. "You know where it is, but you also know it likes to move around a little. Claudia, did you wet your finger? You're dealing with some delicate flesh, and you mustn't be rough! Remember, you must have the courage to tell boys what to do-even your best boy friend. They can be rough, and it's more fun when they're not!"
"I'm sort of dry," the little kid with the barely formed tits said, flushing. "I just learned to come about a week ago. Lily, here, brought me along, but she didn't tell me I had to play with it so soon."
The beautiful girl, whose unaffected goodness had so appealed to Terry, pulled the little kid against her warm body.
"Get up here," she said, helping the child onto a sort of padded table. "I'll get you wet, baby doll! There, that's it. Open up and hold still!"
The other kids jumped up and down and clapped hands, and an older girl, probably Lily, since she was an exact replica of the kid on the table, said with a husky laugh: "Claudia's always lucky!"
When the beautiful, smiling woman knelt between the young kid's thighs and, holding the fat, slick lips apart, began to suck, Terry could not help it-he whistled.
The response was strange.
The kids, if they heard it, had no idea what it meant. But not so the grown woman. She glared at the grating with fury clouding her usually serene face, and then, swallowing her rage, she jumped up and began apologizing to the kids-sorry, but she had had a sudden pang that worried her; she would have to call Doctor Everts; she'd call each of them before noon.
"Don't worry, Claudia, we'll finish your first lesson," she promised. She gave each childish butt a squeeze in parting. A couple of the older ones looked deliciously nubile, as did their owners' swelling boobs. The kids, in turn, hugged their pretty mentor, patting her lovely ass, stroking her big, firm titties. She kissed a couple of them, and from the length of the contact and the working cheeks and throats, it was obvious that they were tonguing each other delightedly.
As they all left the room, and Terry, really ashamed of himself for his awkward if well-meant action, backed out of the closet, he heard his front door open and slam closed, and right on the heels of those sounds, a furious charge of feet up his stairs.
He had no time even to slip into his trunks; the girl blazed into his room, her beautiful face mottled scarlet and white in her towering rage, and faced him, both hands stretched out like talons.
"Of all the people in the world I thought was a decent human being!" she cried, choking with anger. "You, a sneaking, dirty-minded pervert. Spying on little girls getting a lesson they can't get anywhere else in this dirty, stinking town!"
Her full-lipped mouth was trembling and a clear trickle of saliva ran from one corner of it. In the excitement, neither of them had noticed that, in her haste to berate Terry, the girl had not taken time to dress, was still clothed only in her skin. And it was such clear, healthy, beautiful skin! And she was hot in other ways, too, from this jarring experience. Of course, she had been engaged in very inflammatory sexualities with the warm little kids, and she was, as Terry knew, affectionately eager. So it was no surprise to him that the bottom fringe of hairs on her fat cuntlips showed little jewels of clear fluid distilled in her overheated twat, copious enough to drip the drool.
She looked so enormously desirable and, at the same time, so vulnerable-like a doomed lioness protecting her cubs before the cruel hunter, that Terry was struck dumb. Good thing, too.
"Don't open your lying mouth to me!" the angry girl shouted. "Snitch on me if you want to, you filthy bastard! I'm the only person in this county that will lift a finger to help girls get adjusted, to live like humans and not like scared animals! Oh, oh, oh, oh!" she moaned, suddenly putting her face in her hands. "My poor little kids! My poor babies!"
He was set to slap her out of her hysteria when they were both struck silent by a new sound. Once more, the door opened and shut, but softly, and a bolt clicked. Once more there were footsteps on the stairs, but they moved and stopped, moved and stopped, and suddenly, in the door, there was little Kitty Morales, just shedding her last garment.
She saw only Terry, and she cried: "Come on, Coach, let's fuck!" before she caught a movement with the corner of her eyes, and turned full on to view the angry lady.
There was a moment of shocked silence, and Terry said dumbly: "This is Kitty Morales, Miss ... er ... and, uh, this nice person works for Old Lady Albright!"
. There was a sort of spasmodic quiet. Terry knew the lady was assimilating what Kitty had shouted; wouldn't that prove to her that he was a nonjudgmental person where sex figured? Now lie was vulnerable as she; he hoped for understanding, a truce.
There was a double whoop of laughter, and Kitty ran at the lady and pressed her tight, dark little flower face into those fantastically beautiful tits.
"Work for Old Lady Albright?" Kitty shrieked, tears of laughter streaming. "She is Old Lady Albright!"
The mystery peeled away, and with it, all awkwardness.
"Denise Albright," he said. "They call you Denny, right?"
"Right, and now you know the things I do beside teach dancing. And I'm glad you know, and sorry I was so loud and defensive."
"I told you there was a lady who taught me," Kitty said, her eyes adoring them both. "Oh, Denny, Terry has taught me a lot, too!"
The woman hugged the slender young girl to her. "Taught you I was right that a cock is best of all, didn't he? Kitty, you had a virginity to give, didn't you?"
She pulled Terry down to her and kissed him, and, at the same time, little Kitty kissed him on his prick, which had not gone down since he first looked through the grating. Rather, she kissed first, then sucked, and Denny cried: "Oh, no you don't baby! Age before beauty!" and pulled on the big man so that they all fell in a tangle.
"I'm only kidding, baby," Denny said as she held the little girl's cunt up for her kiss and for Terry's cock. "You came to bring him your darling cunt. Let him have you."
"No way, Denny," the girl laughed. "Oh, I've missed you so! I know you said I was graduated. But I miss you. I miss your pussy. There's never another one so sweet!"
She was on hands and knees, dropping her face to snort between Denny's thighs, and Terry, wordless for so long, saw how bright and wet and open the child's scarlet twat gleamed, how hotly distended was her asshole.
He held up a thumb and forefinger to Denny's brightly smiling gaze, and nodded down toward Kitty's divided little ass. The woman closed her eyes and sucked in a hot breath, nodding devoutly, and Terry quickly wiped a handful of the girl's slick cunt lubrication from her overflowing lips.
When she waggled her body in lust, trying to push back to catch his finger, he leaned and kissed hard, spilling a gob of spit on the tight brown hole, and then, with loving deliberation, pushed his finger right into it, right into her asshole, clear to the palm of his hand. At the same time, he sunk his thumb into her suddenly relaxed cunt, pressing so hard on the lower rim that he could feel thumb and finger meet, with only two thin layers of muscle and membrane separating them.
For a moment, the little girl was motionless, and Denny, holding the dark head down to her own joyful pussy, looked her doubts at Terry.
Then there was a loud, muffled cry from the hot place between Denny's spread thighs, a cry of such piercing joy, such intense feeling, that the hair on Terry's neck curled. And with it, the strong, slender young body began to move, the head to bob, and Terry, mindful of the gap in the child's wide-open young aperture, reached with his free hand, under Kitty's taut belly, down into her scalp lock of black cunt hair, and got to the trough where her clitty button, swollen to bursting, was waiting and trembling.
They all fell together, so violent was Kitty's orgasm, and she was trembling all over when they at last got her quieted.
"I can't believe how wonderful it was," the girl said soberly, holding Terry's hand pressed against her tittie with its nipple hardened from the orgasm. Her entire body seemed to be blushing. "That was the biggest I ever had," she said. "But only your finger! When can I have this wonderful thing up me?" and she fondled his cock, looking shyly out at him from under her long lashes. "Are you afraid it'll kill me?"
Terry, his other arm under Denny Albright, his fingers happily moving in her squeezing hole, laughed softly. "Not at all. There's no maidenhead to break. All women can stretch to take a prick bigger than mine. But in a way, I want to save it.
You're young. I want to keep a couple of mysteries for you. For later."
"So now what, Coach?" the girl smiled. "Will you fuck Denny? Please? And let me watch? Oh, great! Oh, Denny, get on top! I want to guide his cock into your pussy! Please! Look in the mirror!"
It was hot and it was fun, and Terry good-naturedly let them move him until the light was exactly right. And it was great, squeezing those wonderful titties as Denny, her face in a grimace of concentration and pleasure, let Kitty hold her cunt open with one hand and steer Terry's prick with the other.
"I'm so hot, Terry!" Denny whispered. "Is it all right if I come real quick?" And Terry, looking over her head at the delighted little Mexican girl, winked at her and, from his clasp around Denny's strong back, raised his index finger. It was enough. The child gasped, grinned, and, wetting her finger in her own flowing cunt, calmly, lovingly stabbed it into the big girl's stretched brownie. It was like an earthquake of flesh and muscle and ass and tit and belly and legs.
The nerves in his cock, the emotional factors inflamed in his mind by the delightful, human heat of two beautiful females, collected somewhere in his belly, in his crotch, in his balls as the lovely, sucking cunt muscles rose and fell on his prick. He felt the solid thump of Denny's womb and the end of her cunt, felt the cock-like probing of her long tongue in his mouth. He heard Kitty's muffled cries of triumph and felt a warmth and closeness around his balls. The hot little baby was sucking them. He guessed that she could not stand this much heat without coming; one hand would be in her cunt, finding the right places taught her by Denny and herself and Raul.
Afterward, while all were still panting, and Kitty was crawling delightedly over him and Denny, kissing, playing, looking, laughing, he turned to the open smile and blue eyes of the woman next door, and said simply: "You're a wonderful woman!"
She kissed him and said: "No. I'm just a voice in the wilderness, trying to help kids that need it. Girls have so few people to trust. Even you, Terry, and surely, you're one man in ten million. But you've got your axe to grind-this lovely blunt axe here," and she stroked his fat, limp cock. "You're better than any man I've known, and probably far kinder and more considerate than any man Kitty or the others will ever know. But still a man."
He felt a truth squirming in his mind, and sat up. There was an ancient, unbelievable feeling in his eyes, the sting of tears, and he looked at the two females, so brave, so loving.
"I think I get some idea of what women need, why they can be bisexual without being homosexual. I've always thought a cunt was so sweet that anyone should love it, man or woman. But it really isn't enough, I know," he said humbly, "to make me able to say that I understand it all. Right now, I sort of wish I were a woman!"
"God forbid!" Denny cried. "Look at this!" She held his dick and waved it back and forth. "We can always find a woman who understands us. It's not so easy to find a wonderful, sweet old business like this! Mmmmm!" She sucked it like a lollipop, closing her eyes, and pulled it from her mouth with a loud pop. "Now, you, Kitty," she cried. "Make him realize why he's so necessary!"
It was a day off for Ceferina, so they rolled in the bed, played with each other, ate food with cum-smeared hands, and acted, in general, like a honeymoon trio.
Terry got in a couple of questions, and got quick, honest answers. "How old were you when you met Denny?" he asked Kitty, his finger going in and out of her tired, juicy little cunt.
"I picked her out when she was twelve," Denny said, and the girl, patting her friend, said: "We wouldn't have had money for dance lessons." Terry kissed them both. It was beautiful.
"How about that little Debbie kid? Debbie Forrester, is that her name? She looks like a baby."
"Baby, my ass," Kitty said coarsely. "She's been fucking for two years. Trouble with her is, she never gets enough!"
Terry shook his head and reached for another sandwich.
"I guess men just never do know," he said vaguely, and the two women, one on each side, hugged him.
"You'll do, Coachie," Kitty said, holding his hand hard against her youthful tit. "But don't talk so much. Let's fuck!"
CHAPTER 12
TERRY WAS, HE TOLD HIMSELF AFTER Kitty and Denny had left, only human. Life had been so bright, so intense, in the presence of that abundance of sweet female flesh, that pair of sweetly hungering pussies, so ready to give of themselves. The telephone call from Raul, the quiet Mexican boy seeming nervous and upset, touched a really negative chord in the coach. Somehow, he felt it concerned Kitty, and he didn't want a confrontation with an upset brother concerned with his sister's sex life.
His invitation was grudging, his greeting to the strong, swarthy boy rather cold, and Raul showed his youth and insecurity by asking, in humble tones, "What's wrong, Coach? Why are you sore at me?"
Terry first said: "Skip it, kid. Forget it!" but his favorite varsity outfielder turned away with tears in his eyes, and Terry, deeply touched, said: "Come on, Raul! It's not all that big a deal. But you turned me off yesterday when you gave me that big wink. What was that for? What do you know about me that you'd act so mysterious?"
He was actually tense, waiting for a reply, but Raul took him by the arm, looked him in the eye, and said: "God Almighty, Mr. Ladron, you were looking at a couple of those kids on the girls' team-I'll admit they looked pretty good, too, little as I know about girls. But you looked at their swinging little butts like, well, like a man with, uh, sex on his mind."
The boy laughed uncomfortably, and Terry, feeling a great sense of relief that he didn't have to face the Kitty business here and now, slapped him on the shoulder. "That all, Raul?" he questioned. "No wild talk about me personally?"
"Couple of those dumb kids said something the other day," the boy admitted. "The blonde catcher with the bit tits, and another one, I don't know her name. Tall and skinny, but a cute chick. Popping off about your, uh, abilities."
Terry laughed. "You told them to shut up, I guess, eh, Raul?" he asked. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Now, kid, what did you want to talk to me about?"
It came out with a rush. "A man from the Pirates was here this morning. He says they'd like to draft me as a junior, let me finish high school and send me to one of their Class A farm teams. Mom and Aunt Cef looked pretty hungry when he flashed a check on them. Twenty-five thousand.
Jesus! That's a lot of coins!"
Terry sighed. It always happened with the good ones. No matter what the sport. "Who makes the living at your house, Raul?" he asked kindly.
"Mom and Aunt Cef," the boy answered. "And we own the house. Dad's insurance, plus Social Security, give us plenty. But Mom thinks if I wait I won't, or might not, get as much."
Terry's face cleared. No hardship here, at least. "Listen, Raul, I'll talk to your folks," he promised. "You won't lose by it. I'll talk to Red Patterson or Al Campanis up at the Dodgers. Wait a year. You'll bring a bundle."
But Raul didn't look happy. And it took some pressuring to get an answer. When it came, Terry was amused.
"I figure, once I'm away from home, if I want to fuck-I hope you'll pardon me talking rough, Coach-I can go out and get myself some pussy," the boy confessed.
"Raul," Terry said in honest surprise, "you could get more right here than you could ever handle! Why aren't you screwing the chickies that hang around the practice field? That's why they're there."
In the end, after a lot of protesting, it came down to a very simple favor.
"If I get you a kid, and get you started, and let you use my house, will you for Christ's sake go out and get fucked on your own?" Terry demanded. By this time, he was really laughing, and Raul grinned.
He sat with shining eyes as Terry talked to Kitty-Kitty! It was a momentary shock, and then Terry said: "I want you to get me a girl to help a boy on the varsity. One that's absolutely certain, because this kid is bashful. You know what I mean? No, not you, baby, of course not. Whoever you get, tell her what's up, tell her to come straight to my house and come upstairs. Kitty, I'm grateful. I knew you'd understand."
He almost feared to look at Raul. He had given himself and Kitty away. Or had he? Maybe this kid was simple enough to think a coach could ask such a favor without any other implications.
It was a crazy business, anyhow. "Get your clothes off," he ordered. "Go on, strip. I've seen you naked, plenty of times. I want this chick to know what she's here for. I have an idea that Kitty won't let us down."
By the time the doorbell rang and a girlish voice, just a bit doubtful, called through the open door: "Hi, in there! Is anybody home?-Where are you?" there was no question of Raul's readiness. He had a big hard-on, and he called out: "Come on up! The stuffs up here, chickie!" using a response fed him by the coach.
"I'll duck out," Terry whispered, "and down the back stairs," but he kept his fingers crossed. I wouldn't miss this for a spotted pony, he told himself. I hope the girl knows what to do.
When he got in place, leaving the door to the back stair cracked an inch or more, he got a real kick. Not too surprisingly, Kitty had called the little Forrester girl. "She never gets enough," Kitty had said.
Well, looking at that short, thick cock, barrel-shaped like Raul's body, her juvenile twat would get plenty of stretching. Kitty and Denny had drained him, but some spark remained. When he saw that sweetly childish face light up with lust, and the girl shucked a simple frock off her bouncy young body, Terry felt a dry throb in his well-used cock.
"Raul!" the kid cried. "Oh, dear, I should have known it was you!" She ran to him and hugged him, looking down at his hard cock before putting her open mouth up to him. "Don't you like to kiss, baby?" she crooned. "Oh!" and the boy, turned into a tiger by the sight and smell and feel of this cutely built little girl, cut off her speech and the two kissed furiously.
"Oh, Raul, that was great!" Debbie whispered. "You do know how to French kiss. Kitty said I might have to help you."
The boy laughed, put his big brown hand between Debbie's thighs, and said: "Kitty didn't even know who she was hustling pussy for, so what does she know?" He picked the little girl up and carried her to the bed. "You ever get your cunt eaten?" he asked from his position between her thighs. "By an expert?"
He turned her right up, legs in the air, and dived into the almost hairless split between her legs. He came up with a happy grin, his cheeks shining. By God, Terry thought, that little beauty sure packs heat in that little pussy! He was in a perfect position to see every detail, even the baby fringe of yellow hair on the surprisingly big cunt, and Raul was intrigued, too.
"You've got a beautiful pussy, Debbie," he said, "and it's so soft and smooth."
The child laughed in wicked glee. "Raul, there's a couple of old bastards in this town that give me ten bucks a pop just to feel it and look at it," she said. "They think I'm a pure virgin. Can you believe it? Ohhh! Ohhh! God, that's good! GOOD!" Her voice was high and shrill, her lithe little body with the delicious pink-tipped titties was flailing up and down so hard that the Mexican athlete had to use all his strength to hold her.
"Oh, baby, you are an expert!" the little girl said chokingly, her body reddened from the rush of blood following her cum. "Kitty really doesn't know you. You don't need any help!"
She pulled at his long hair, pulling him up, and poutingly said: "Aren't you going to stick that big thing in me?"
He kissed her, and she used her tongue to lick his cheeks and lips, her angelic face serious, and then giggled. "I love the taste of my own pussy! Does that make me queer, Raul?"
Raul was stroking her young tits, now, pressing his' thumbs into them, pressing the nipples down hard and letting them pop out, and he continued kissing her mouth. The two actions set a fire somewhere in the hot little babe, for she pushed up hard against Raul's powerful body, and got a childish hand around his cock. "Oh, God, Raul!" she whispered between kisses, her eyes closed, her face a mask of need. "Please fuck me! Or eat me! I don't care what! I'm burning up!"
Raul followed a suggestion Terry had given him, but he was not exactly suave. He disengaged from her mouth, pulled her head down toward his prick, and in a croaking voice said: "Try the taste of my cock, baby! Wow! Wow! Oh, baby, you do know how to suck!"
He pulled her away and she looked angry, then grinned, wiping her chin. "I can come that way, too," she whispered. "I can come any way any other girl in the world can! Do you believe me?"
She jumped up and pressed her thighs tightly together, so that her fat, smooth cuntlips were pinched between them. "See that?" she asked, walking a few feet, taking short steps, keeping her thighs tight. "Even this will make me come!" she said thickly. "Ohhh! Here I go!" She staggered to the bed and fell back, her legs trembling as they fell slack with her feet on the floor, and Raul, the opportunist, slid between them, sucking up the cunt flow which bubbled out of her red split. The girl continued to cry and hump her body weakly up at Raul's probing tongue, and Terry, realizing that he had a hard-on, muttered: "If he doesn't fuck that kid, I will!"
But Raul needed no help. There was a genuine tenderness in the big, tough kid's face as he pulled the little girl around and moved her thighs gently back and up, so that her cunt seemed to protrude, begging for something to fill it.
Terry could see the shine of Debbie's spit on the broad, dark cockhead, but Raul knew it needed more. He cupped a hand under Debbie's flowing cuntlips and swept the fingers, loaded with her clear, slick juice, to his cock. It was smeared all over with the sweet stuff from her own insides, the ideal lubricant.
No matter how much she had fucked, the little girl was still very tight. Any girl might be tight for that thick prick, Terry grinned. He felt a throb in his cock as the girl's rounded body shuddered, her voice rising in a fierce moan of pleasure as Raul hung above her, his big cock only half out of sight in her tiny box.
The girl was saying something, and her lover and the voyeur made it out at the same time: "Roll over, please! Let me on top!"
Actually, it was a much better view for Terry when Raul obediently rolled onto his back, laughing up at the flower-like little face, so determined as the girl twisted her small body.
"Take it easy, chickie," Raul grinned. "You're tearing the skin off my cock. Try to relax!" He couldn't have done better himself, Terry decided mentally.
Oddly enough, the little girl seemed to relax just before orgasm. She shrieked with pain and pleasure as she came all the way down, her smooth, distended cuntlips seeming to open up for the thick and hairy root of the boy's tool.
She kissed Raul's red mouth while fucking excitedly up and down on his hard, thick cock. Terry, fascinated, saw her pink cunt turn inside out each time her ass raised and saw the friction of the boy's tool push them in as she came down. His own cock was so hard, so filled with the need to come, that he released it from his slacks, just as Raul, suddenly fucking up hard and fast, began to shoot his load into the tight, hot young cunt.
There was so much noise that none of them, not even Terry, heard footsteps on the stairs, heard the choked scream of anger, and little Debbie Forrester, so well-fucked that she was half unconscious, fell off on her side and stared unbelievingly at Ceferina Gonzales, her face contorted in fury, raising her hand to strike at her nephew.
The girl rushed at the nearest door, which happened to be where Terry was concealed, and he held her, whispering to her to be quiet, until she eventually realized where she was and who was with her. The big cock had something to do with her recovery from the shock of Ceferina's unexpected entrance, and she shyly held on to it, looking up at Terry for permission. She made little cooing sounds as she dropped to her knees, and, ignoring the continuing outcries from the bedroom, began to suck his prick with a skill that Terry had to recognize. It was crazy, it was the end of a wild coincidence that must have begun with the Pirates' scout bugging Raul, but Terry could not let this pass. The child sucked too beautifully, too strongly. He had to have it, had to let her have it, too, and he felt it would not be too long in coming.
He let himself down, the little girl going down with him as well as on him, and he twisted, there on the cramped landing, trying to get to her smooth little cunt. All the time, he was aware of the Mexican woman's yells, and Raul's calm, quite, laughing voice, trying to cool his aunt down.
"You bum!" the woman screamed. "Fucking around at Ladron's instead of bringing in money! The coach! Yah! Your friend! He fucks your sister! Did you know that?"
Debbie must have heard, for she giggled and bobbed her sweet little mouth up and down on Terry's cock, and moved just enough so that her blonde-fringed split popped open just at Terry's drooling mouth, and he sucked her big, swollen twat into his mouth.
The child bucked and screamed softly, sucking harder, and she took his cock away so she could say: "Oh, please, Coach, shoot it! I want your cum! Please!" and then she was back, her young twat so wide open, so hot against his face that he felt her clit on his upper lip, and the flow of her come-juice almost choked him. He began to come in a sore, jerky way, feeling that his balls were dry and he was only coming with his bare, wasted nerves, a hard pain in his prick with each throb.
But the little girl was sucking hard, eyes closed, ass bucking against him, and she must have really gotten a mouthful, because a rill of milky, opaque semen leaked out of her mouth.
They both lay quietly, listening to the final spate of words in the bedroom. From his cramped position, Terry could see that Ceferina was holding desperately to her nephew's cock, her face streaked with tears, but more peaceful, and as Terry watched, she brushed the back of her hand against her lips.
"I'm sorry, Raul baby," she whispered. "I guess I went sort of crazy. Can you forgive me?"
"Don't sweat it," the big kid answered kindly, looking more manly than Terry had ever seen a young kid look. "You want to suck my cock, why not? Sure, you were excited. That's fine. Get excited tonight, after I've recovered a little." He grinned. "Believe it or not, Aunt Cef, this was my first real fuck. You can be the second. Mom's going to the movies tonight, right?"
Terry saw Ceferina's hand close on the big tool. Lucky guy, that kid; his aunt was one magnificent piece of ass. In some odd way, during her passionate screaming fit, the older woman had gotten out of her clothes, and it was sweet and hot to see the big boy, his face eager but loving, squeeze one of Cef's big tits, making the nipple run far out, then sucking it very hard.
"I'm sorry for the things I said," the woman whispered, and Raul, taking his mouth from her nipple, laughed.
"So, okay, you think Coach Ladron is fucking Kitty. Well, why not? Kitty's old enough. She couldn't get her education from a betty guy. Or a better teacher." He grinned. "He was trying to help me when he got me that little girl."
Debbie, now with her eye to the crack and her hot and sticky little cunt right in Terry's face, giggled.
"Good teacher, huh?" Ceferina asked. "Well, okay. We just keep quiet, right? I came by to leave some laundry. But listen, you stay home tonight, hear?" She giggled, eyes bright, and got up. It was time to go.
CHAPTER 13
AS SOON AS THE DOOR CLOSED BEHIND her mom and Aunt Ceferina, Kitty left her bed and trotted down the hall to her brother's bedroom, a small cubicle away from the others, just big enough for a three-quarter bed, a chest of drawers, a straight chair. She was naked, her sweet brown body filmed with sweat on this hot Sunday morning, and she cuddled against her brother's big body warmly, feeling for his cock, raising a wild cloud of fuck-perfume as he rolled on his back, half-asleep, opening up his thighs to let his steamy cock and balls come open to the air.
She seldom was permitted to suck his cock, so she took advantage of his drowsy condition, her lips and tongue quickly vacuuming his fat prick into her mouth, rolling her tongue over and around the head, going down to the barrel of it until it stuffed her throat with hot meat.
Raul pulled her small body across his chest, and she crooned wordless thanks as he ate deep into her furred split, putting heavy suction on her leaking hole, releasing that to move to her clitoral area, where he gently frigged at her little button with his hard tongue. He felt her hunch up above him, and pulled her ass down so he could really lave her entire channel, for that leap of hers signified an approaching orgasm.
Mouth open on her slit, he said: "It's a hot morning, Chula! And a hot kid!"
She had been hanging on a hair trigger, and his moving lips and the vibration of his voice did the rest. "Suck it!" she cried just once, going wildly back to jamming her head down on the beloved, familiar cock of her brother. She came a long time, it felt like two or three orgasms rather than one, and she was really giving his cock a wet, slick going over all the time, but while he was hard, he did not come.
At last, exhausted, she rolled off him, laughing, her hot little split feeling warm, good and satisfied.
"Oh, brother," she whispered, kissing under Raul's arm, "that felt so good! Sucking or fucking, it's out of the world!"
The big boy pinched her hard on one of her firm tits.
"Fucking, hey?" he laughed. "So you've started fucking."
She snuggled against him. "Yes, I have," she answered. "And you'd never guess who with."
Raul stuck his finger deep into her pussy and felt around.
"He sure stream-lined you-inside," he said. "I don't even find a sore place where the maidenhead was."
"You be quiet!" his sister said. Then laughed. "Listen, Raul, I've had it so much, and so good, this last week! No scabs in my little pussy! He's good! You ought to see him do it! Wow!"
"Yeah, I heard he was good," her brother teased. Soberly, the big boy, putting a quiet hand on his sister's hairy young twat, said: "I'm glad you lost it to the coach, baby! He's a real man!"
The shock brought Kitty upright; they laughed and hugged and kissed. He admitted that now, if she needed him, he'd feel free to fuck her. "Why not, Kitty?" he asked simply. "We love each other. You're not a virgin. It's even better now than it used to be!"
She clung to him, crying in joy. "Why can't you get it up now, Raul?" she asked, running his foreskin up and down.
Holding her to him, laughing, he told her of the day before.
"You're killing me!" Kitty gasped. "Well, I sent you a hot kid, didn't I? But that wouldn't burn you out!"
"Listen," he said, "are you ready for something real heavy? I was in bed with Aunt Cef all night. Honest! She's so sweet, and so hot, and been dying for a prick for years. It was a real blessing to her, Chula!"
They swelled with pride in each other, and Raul's cock stayed hard as he told of the times he had fucked and been sucked. But there was no cum-feeling left in him, and at last Kitty gave up, letting Raul suck her off with less than her usual thanks.
When he was done, and Kitty had kissed her cum from his lips, she got up briskly and said: "Get dressed, baby. We're going visiting!"
They made it to Terry's quickly, getting a hitch almost to his house, and Raul looked worried as Kitty let herself in. "He gave me a key," she whispered. "Come on, I'll bet he's still asleep."
Terry was awake, but barely, and he was startled. He had had a bad dream, and had awakened with a nagging feeling.
"Not to worry, Coach," Raul said, his arm around Kitty. "I know about you and Kitty. You and Aunt Cef, too," he grinned as his sister looked at him dumbfounded. "I couldn't get it up this morning, and Kitty's hot, so we dropped by."
It was too much. He wanted to be angry, to shout at them that they had too much guts, but it was so crazy he had to laugh. He sat up in bed and held out his arms to the small dark girl, and she came toward him shyly, looking back at her big brother as she pulled her skirt up, and Raul squeezed her bare little ass unselfconsciously.
Without embarrassment, he said: "I'll get your lawnmower out and give your yard a little going over," and left the room.
Terry helped Kitty with her dress, and sniffed at her sweet young body. "A girl's really prime on a day like this," he said. "Smell means so much. Almost every animal, every bird, every insect depends on smell to get sexed up. And American women spend billions every year to keep from smelling sexy."
Kitty held his cock, smiling, squeezing it gently.
"You're just like Raul." she said. "Fucked out. But it sure feels good. And smells good, too."
"So okay, we can take it easy and still have fun," he said easily. "Every time we've been together, it's been a slam-bang deal. No chance to talk, to play."
"Yesterday was pretty good," the girl said. "With Denny."
"Wonderful. But too much going on. Here, we've got a good light. Let me show you a few things. I'll get the mirror close."
He positioned her on the bed, two huge pillows under her head, a smaller one under her butt. "Raise your thighs," he said. "Wow! Hear your pussy pop when the lips came open? So rich!" He had to bend and suck at her swelling cuntlips. "See," he said, "because you're dark, your cunt is rich and deep in color. These inner lips are dark red all the time. Then the blood crowds in, they get purple."
"How about black girls?" Kitty asked seriously. "They can't be black inside, can they?"
Terry sucked briefly in among her massed lips, rooting for her pussy hole, right at the base of her body. "Funny thing," he said, "they're lighter than you. I must have had my nose into half a dozen black girls' twats, and none of them were dark red or purple. More pink, like a blonde. That's weird."
He fingered her slit, and she jumped. "Oooh, Terry," she whispered, "you touched a real good-feeling spot. What was it?"
He felt again, touched the hard clit, passed it, slid his finger down over the opening from which she pissed, and then moved it smoothly up until it was above her clitoris, and then down very softly. She jumped again. "That's it!" the girl cried. "Show me the place."
He kissed her and laid her on her back, off the pillows.
"You little fraud," he said. "As many times as you've fingered yourself off, as many times as Raul has brought you up and coming, what the hell can I teach you about your cunt? It's a treasure, it's yours, you know it better than I ever can. You wanted to get fucked, didn't you?"
"Your hands are so beautiful, Coach," she said, hugging his arm. "Your fingers are big and long and smooth. Put one of them in my pussy. Put two in me. Let me fuck them while you kiss me. I just felt so good, hearing about Raul and Debbie. Wait a minute!" she cried. "Did you fuck Aunt Cef like Raul said?"
The girl laughed and frigged at his cock as she looked up at him, and he suddenly felt wild and free. "I sure as hell did," he laughed. "And man, she's wonderful!"
With his fingers in her cunt helping, he lifted her off the bed and pushed a pillow under her, finding her laughing face the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Nothing to hide with this marvelous kid! No deceits. No obligations. He bent to where his fingers held her beautiful little pussy open, its pink petals of flesh like sharp Gothic arches that hid her hard little clit. So wide open! He put his mouth down to the top of her crest of soft flesh with its thick, dark hair, and drew an enormous sucking mouthful of her tenderness, her flavor up to his teem and tongue.
She went limp, and a strange sound came out of her mouth, a howl, almost. He sucked again and she beat her body up against him while her strong young cunt muscles clamped hard on his fingers, then went limp.
He looked up, triumphant. She was dazed, her eyes out of focus, her mouth slack. As he looked, she stirred and smiled, and rolled away from him. "That was too much," she whispered. "What did you do?"
He laughed. "Same thing I did to Debbie, yesterday. After Raul fucked her." He held her tits, laughing, giving her all the lowdown on the cramped, hot, marvelous time he had had with the tiny blonde girl.
She came up and hung on him. "I'm so glad you and I can talk!" she said. "Like I can tell you when Raul and I fuck, and you and I can fuck other people. You know what I mean," she said. "How good it is!"
"Better than being married," Terry answered. "But what if someone blows the whistle on us? We could get married," he said, smiling, "but our ages are far apart."
He had been joking, of course, and was surprised when the little girl put her face in her hands and began to sob.
"Oh, no!" she cried. "Never! I wouldn't ever marry you!"
He rocked her in his arms. "Don't worry," he whispered. "Don't let it bum you. Am I that bad?"
She shook her head violently, sniffling, then looked up at him with a strange look. "I don't want you for a husband," she said. "Even if you were just kidding. I need you to teach me. To boss me. To tell me what I can do and can't do. Even to whip me if I need it!" She kissed him hard, her tongue going into his throat, then knelt humbly above his crotch, holding his cock, running the soft skin up and down, gently kissing the smooth red tip.
Terry knew a moment of panic. "You mean you want me to be your father?" he asked incredulously. "To bawl you out, to make you behave?" The unreality of the scene suddenly took him and he smiled down at the dark head so assiduously bobbing up and down on his cock.
"Okay, my dear," he said softly. "I'll be your dad. But I intend to see that you get fucked, is that understood?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy!" the child cried. "That's what I want! For you to fuck me!"
He lay back, smiling at the ceiling, and let the little Mexican girl suck him off, slowly, carefully. She nibbled at the space between his balls and his asshole, sucked his balls slowly, warmly.
He looked directly into her streaming red split, trimmed in its deep collar of coarse black hair, fingering it from time to time, loving it when she clamped down and came, the red of her cunt winking in her spasmodic joy.
When she got to the head of his cock and went down on him slickly, up and down, licking around the head, taking it down into her throat, he was a long time in coming. Long, slow, luxurious, but not the dry and painful throbs of yesterday. He just lay there, his hands idly playing in Kitty's relaxed pussy, so red with heat expended, and let his seed flow out, let it be sucked up by this charming, delightful child.
They lay together for some time, just holding their bodies together, and Terry thought: This is one hell of a daughter I just adopted. What do I tell her not to do? Don't fuck strangers?
She crawled up, tired and happy, to kiss him, and he got the slick feel of his own jism. It made him think of the riches in her tight little sheath, and he smelled his fingers. "You're a treat, baby," he chuckled. He pulled at the cheek of her ass. "If I'd known I could get it up, I've have given it to you here," he said, dipping the tip of his finger into her asshole.
She almost leaped off him. "Don't!" she said. "Don't get me hot again. I couldn't stand it!"
They had been hearing the putt-putt of the power lawnmower as Raul killed time while his sister fucked the coach. Now it stopped, and they heard voices. In no hurry, Terry looked out and swore. "Wells Carver!" he said shortly. "That prick!"
He held Kitty by the arm as she wriggled in panic. "Don't worry about him," Terry said. "Here, take your clothes. Go down the back stairs and get yourself a Coke, then go out and stay with Raul. I'll get rid of this dumb shit!"
That Raul, he was no dummy! Terry had plenty of time to dress, to get downstairs, even to walk out on the porch and, looking innocent, to say: "Oh, hi, Wells. What brings you over here?" And then, as the banker stepped on the porch and peered through the screen door, he said: "Come on in. What's on your mind?"
It was funny, the way the banker busted his ass to find reasons to look around, even to a point where Terry finally said: "What the hell's eating on you, Carver?"
The man stammered: "Oh, nothing, Terry, nothing. Really. I thought I heard someone, er, I mean I thought I saw someone. You know, not Raul." He was really hung up, Terry thought.
He looked at Carver with all innocence. "You did, Wells," he said. "Raul's little sister, Kitty. She was out in back, last time I looked. Is this some more of your worry about me and my morals?"
"No, goddamn it!" Carver rasped. "Jesus, I can't make a friendly call on you without your flying off the handle! Well, nuts to you. I had some good news for you-a big offer on your place. But the hell with it!"
"My thinking, exactly," Terry said coolly. "The hell with it. Oh, hi, Kitty!" he called. "You and Raul okay? Come on in and have a cold drink." He moved to let Carver out the front door and winked at the two Mexican kids. It was just right!
CHAPTER 14
IT MAY HAVE BEEN A VICTORY, HIS putting down of Wells Carver, his slick way of having Kitty appear outside the house after the banker had apparently been fairly certain he would find her, or someone, inside. And it definitely was a sort of safety valve to have Raul know about him and Kitty, and to approve, even to help them make it. But even so, the next three or four days were a very tough time for the coach.
"I let you get me sore yesterday, Terry," Carver had said pleasantly in a Monday phone call. "That was immature of me. I guess, in a way, I'm still envious of the way you were in high school, and the fact that you rubbed it in. Still," he had said, "you're going to need me someday, so I'm going to hang in there and try to help you, baby. You've got trouble coming."
It had made him furious, and being furious had made him silly enough to bluster, which was unlike his usual cool. And Carver had laid it on him when he challenged the banker.
"What kind of trouble, old buddy? I'll tell you: cunt trouble. Young cunt trouble. Think of a small, very dark pussy. Think of a slender, not quite so dark one. Imagine a fat young blonde cunt. Now, ask yourself this: What's the penalty in this state for statutory rape?"
It was a shock, especially when Carver had said: "It's no secret. Girls can't help gossiping about their sex lives. A lot of people know."
It took the starch right out of his prick. It made him remote, cold, querulous, and the girls, especially Kitty, Jan, Mindy and Debbie felt forlorn and rejected.
"It's like he was having a period," Jan said "Man, he sure is indifferent, all of a sudden."
But Cissie Norton, who spent quite a bit of her life feeling rejected and misunderstood, saw it differently. "He's been hurt, poor baby," she whispered to herself as she knelt in the on-deck circle. She knew how misunderstanding hurt.
Some of the girls who subscribed to the suck-it-out program that Kitty had described to Terry pretended, just kidding, of course, that Cissie had dreamed up the whole idea. That she was, in effect, a Lesbian. She knew it was true. True that the girls said it. Definitely not true that she was a Lez.
No matter what they said, there wasn't one girl on the team that didn't like the idea. It was natural for girls this age to have hot pussies. And to be willing to try anything that felt good to those warm, juicy, sensitive little hair-pies.
Sure, she wore her hair short, and had broad shoulders and slim hips. Maybe, for all she knew, she liked playing with another girl's pussy better than some of the others did. And maybe not. One thing for sure, she hadn't had much of it, but she sure loved cock.
Terry was really surprised when Cissie fell into step with him as he left the campus. She was one of the few girls he had not felt he had to avoid, mainly because he had not felt she wanted anything from him. Automatically, he had answered "Sure," when she asked if she might walk along with him. Automatically, he had stopped when she had stopped to tell Miss Denby, chief girls' counselor, that she was on her way to get a blood count at Doctor Everts' office.
And, since it was a warm day, it seemed natural enough for Terry to offer the girl a cold drink, and for her to come in to his house. After that, though, it was a whole new ballgame.
Not that a young kid pulling her clothes off in his house was unusual. Not this past ten days, at least. But the calm way Cissie did it, walking along behind Terry as he went to the kitchen, shedding clothes as she went, so that, when he turned to offer her the drink, there she was, naked, young, beautiful. And, if her young heart was trying to burst right through her lovely young breast with fear and excitement, she had enough guts and determination to hide it.
Cissie took the drink from Terry's nerveless hand and put it on the sink. Her young titties, pertly aiming their dark nipples up and out, begged for one of his hands to touch them, to squeeze them, for lips to kiss them, for a face to burrow between them. And all her body, her lovely, muscular, girl-child body, was a poem. And Terry, not much of a poet, heard the rhythms of what the girl was saying to him without words.
"God, kid," he said thickly, "do you-are you-" and then, as natural as breathing, she flowed against him and they were kissing, her boyishness making it all seem hotter, sweeter, better than Terry would have believed. His response was explosive.
Long afterward, Cissie would tell him how scared she was that he would reject her. "But I felt you would think it was safe to have me," she said artlessly, humbly. "Why would anyone think that a man like you would ever want to fuck me? And I knew none of the other girls had been around, so I knew you must really be aching to get your nuts off."
When he asked her how she knew so much, she replied without guile: "I have two older brothers, for one thing. And the first time I got talked into a fuck, the boy told me about how he would have the stone-ache if I didn't give him some pussy!"
Terry was in a sort of daze as he followed her up the stairs. How did she know where the bedroom was? And it was beautiful, really, watching the play of her muscled thighs, the cup and stretch and re-forming of her gorgeous ass, the long blonde hair hanging down from her cuntlips, the flicker of soft, wet, red flesh peeping out like a protruding tongue from a bearded mouth.
His voice was thick, just as his cock was hard, when he turned her to face him, hungrily plucking at her boobs, pushing her gently down on the bed, getting between her strong thighs to look at her lovely young pussy. How like a young goddess, this girl who thought herself not good-looking enough!
And how sweet her body was in smell and taste. The aphrodisiac fragrance of feminine heat, from armpit, belly, between the legs, even from deep in her slick cunt as his fingers opened the lips and turned them out to his kiss. He was nude, too, now, The girl was so quiet! She gasped, she shut her eyes, she groaned with lust when she took his cock in her hand and eagerly tried to get it into her cunt, and cried out with impatience when it glanced off the excessive tightness of her cuntal opening. But only after Terry had asked: "Wouldn't you like to try it first with you on top?" did she really talk.
Then, with her strong young legs spread above his loins, with his hands pressing on her eager boobs, she said: "Oh, Coach, you're so kind! It's not too easy for me to come. My whatchacallit just isn't in the right location. You know?"
She was so hot and willing, and still seemed so shy as he showed her how to wipe his cock back and forth in her flow, that he encouraged her with deliberately explicit sex-talk.
"Your hot little cunt is going to open, baby, just because you're so hot," he whispered, himself growing hotter as he felt her fumbling attempts to get his prick into her tight hole. "My cock's hard and hot, just for you. You're going to take it all in.
Then, after I sop up all your cunt juice, you're going to suck me off-Oh, Jesus!" he cried as she suddenly slid down his prick, her cunt muscles loosening to let him in, and her solid body slammed down by strong muscles and pure fuck-wildness.
She was as crazy as a mink in heat, her entire body spasming, and his cock, now that it was in her twat, had plenty of room as her interior relaxed in a series of orgasms-relaxed and clamped shut, until he felt like a super large, slick, sloppy mouth was treating his prick like a nipple, milking and sucking, until his nuts suddenly seemed to burst with their load.
The girl seemed lost in an excess of wantonness, and she was fucking him as if she wanted to open herself and engulf all of his body. It was amazing and sweet, once he got back some of his own senses. In this unexpected scene, Cissie Norton, accused by some snippy girls as a possible Lesbian, had given him one of the wildest, most draining fucks he had ever known. And it had drained her, too.
She fell on her side, then on her back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as though she were looking into space and seeing Nirvana. Her hand was pressed into her cunt, deep into it, and she was making a long series of musical, happy little noises. Her nipples, long and creased and blood red, stuck out at right angles to her breastbone, and her young titties were swollen to almost twice their normal size.
With a sigh of amazement and gratitude at such perfection, Terry turned and took one of the magnificent nipples into his mouth, then opened wide to get a large part of the tit in, giving it the most powerful suction he could muster. With his face blindly pressed into her, he felt her body begin to squirm, heard her cries of completion rise on a higher scale, and knew that she was coming again.
* * *
Afterward, Terry tried to hold her when she started to leave. He pressed his hands in her muscled ass, its crevice slippery with their cum; he sucked with deep pleasure on her lovely boobies, and knew she was also pleased. He kissed her, and she responded gladly, her tongue strong and warm against his. "But I've got to go," she whispered.
Even as she bent over to retrieve the numerous bits of her clothing, he continued to stroke and play with her cunt, still hot and slick and wriggling inside. She kept saying: "I've got to go."
When he held her for a final kiss, she whispered: "If you want me, I'll come back. If you want more than me, I'll get some other girls and stay all day," he began to understand. She was one of those rarities, a girl completely satisfied with just one huge orgasm, which may actually have been a closely tied series of orgasms. She had surely to God come like the circus entering a hick town-boom-boom-boom, and the sky lighting up. But it wasn't enough for him; the working-over he had given her had strung him out with another hard-on.
It was still hard when the phone rang; it abated with his growing anger as Wells Carver, now apparently feeling ascendant, sniggered a lewd and unfunny crack about high-school cunt.
Terry was completely outraged by this snooping. His paranoia, which had set him up for this fuck, washed over him. He felt he was the focus of a world of spies. Then he thought of the only person who would know for certain that he had just had a girl in the house. Denise Albright. Denny, the warm, seemingly steadfast woman adored by his girls. And by himself, until now.
Denny had to be the one keeping Wells Carver and perhaps even Old Riff informed of his movements. Added to his frustrated rage was the heavy, painful factor that he had liked her and trusted her. But he knew what he must do for revenge.
There had always been more than one door between the two halves of the house, but they had been boarded over or papered over to give privacy to both tenants. All but one. There was a heavy latch on it, so that Miss Albright could have opened it. But Terry, telling no one, still kept a key.
He did not bother to dress; his nakedness was-the signal of his intent and even of his contempt. He hoped she would have a pupil or two on hand; he wanted to humiliate her totally. His cock, getting this message from his angry brain, firmed up, too, and it was rising ahead of him like a gun at the ready when he purposefully marched through the house.
She was not downstairs; she was not upstairs; she was not in either bathroom. Then he heard a noise; on the back porch, glassed in, used as a sewing room, he had gathered. And there she was, her treacherous face as calm as a summer sea, ironing a blouse, standing barefooted, humming a little tune.
He might have taken her expression for affectionate lust as she cried: "Oh, Terry! How good to see you!" when he crashed into her, tumbled her to her knees, and then, as she arose, half dragged, half carried her to a broad couch in the old dining room.
"Terry! What the hell? Are you nuts?" the woman cried, now seeming alarmed. "Oh, damn you!" as he tumbled her on her back, fumbling in her crotch, under the short skirt, getting his hands wet and slick from the warm flow from her cunt.
She made absolutely no effort to fight, once he had grated: "I'm going to fuck you silly, you snooping bitch!"
She lay inert, unmoving, and he thrust into her, churning his big cock in a pussy that seemingly could have taken his arm.
It was totally contrary to his nature to be brutal, unless it was a laughing, loving, fucking sort of brutality, and there was certainly no love or laughter in him now. He lifted and drove his body down at her, his cock into her twat, and she was as lifeless as a wet rag, as loose and sloppy as a bucket of lard.
He had quit cursing her, as she had stopped any word or action, and their panting breaths were the only sounds to go with the rhythmic creaking of the couch.
All at once, Terry thought of a hole that could not be relaxed willfully; he gripped her ankles and raised her legs high, his cock coming out of her streaming cunt with a sloshing suck, and he caught a hint of a cold grin on the face he had thought so sweet and open.
There was, what he planned to violate, seeming to be centered in that wet mat of darkly curling hair, and her amazing cunt flow had covered it and all the haired area around it with a slickness made for his purpose.
Before Denny could gather her wits to figure out his motive, he had slammed his cock into her tender asshole, with a shock of fright and pain that tore a wild scream from her straining throat. And for him, since it meant a contemptuous defeat of a presumed enemy, as well as a friction which brought all the heat in his body to a fiery head in his cock, it was such a triumph that he hooted with laughter.
There was a long moment while the shocked and angry girl stayed tense and taut as a drawn bowstring; then something broke.
Already heated in spite of herself by his savage fucking into her slack pussy, heated further, indeed, by the strange savagery of his attack, her entire system let go as his hard tool rasped into a virgin area where nerves as sensual as those in her cunt had never known a conqueror.
With her dancer's strength, Denny freed her legs from Terry's grasp, and perhaps could have rolled him over and escaped or bucked him off. But her body betrayed her. She screamed and screamed again, and her strong arms flailed at him, but her asshole clung to his cock no matter how much it bucked and twisted. And it was the oddest fuck of her life or his, for it raged and, at last, exploded in a shower of semen, without a kiss, without love, with not a word except of protest, without any laughter except the mean voice of a petty triumph.
I don't feel like much of a winner, Terry thought, even as his hot jets of semen were washing the girl's bowels.
"I hope you're happy with yourself, you lousy shit!" the weeping girl sobbed, after his prick hung down to stain his naked thighs. "If you're quite through, I'll put away my groceries. I'd just come in and stopped to touch up a blouse when you went berserk!"
She was angrily brushing away tears as she put frozen things" in her freezer, and milk and butter in the fridge. And a horrid truth burst on Terry-she had been shopping and could not possibly have known that Cissie was with him, nor could she have telephoned Carver.
He had never felt so like a whipped dog, and a dog who deserved the whipping. Symbolically, without a word, he handed her the key to the one door that existed between them. Now, the act told her that the door would be opened only at her choosing.
Terry could not read the look in her face. Perhaps it was just as well. His own spirit had dropped into a shocking world of grief and pain and shame. He had been worse than animal. An animal acts from natural lust; he had acted from a meanness, a pettiness, a babyish rage for revenge that he could not accept as a part of himself.
The man did not look back, or he might have seen that Denny's face was no longer mutely stricken. Somehow, his gesture with the key had told her of his damning wave of self-reproach, of guilt.
"He must have had a reason," she whispered, her face soft. "He's not a maniac. He couldn't do such a thing without reason."
In a complete change of mood, she put her hand down and felt between her cuntlips, grinning as she recalled how well she had stalled his efforts. But the gigantic cum that resulted from being forcibly screwed in her virgin ass had left its fiery aftermath. She leaped as her finger touched the charged areas around her clit and in her inner lips.
"Wow!" she said, and lay back on the couch. "I can't let this go until Terry and I make up!" She thought of something else and got up, going to the groceries still on the table. The rub of her fat cuntlips almost made her come; she had to hold her thighs apart as she walked back, holding a knockwurst, glad to feel it was at room temperature. She spread her legs wide and slipped the big, smooth sausage into her cunt, grinning lewdly.
It wasn't quite enough. There was another hunger flaring.
With deep pleasure, she licked her middle finger. She inserted it into her asshole. She moved the sausage and the finger. She went into a slow, perfect orgasm, closing her eyes in a happy smile.
CHAPTER 15
THE REST OF THE WEEK PASSED, AND Saturday and Sunday dragged by. Terry knew a terrible, hateful drought of body and spirit. No young body to warm his bed or his balls, to raise his eager cock. And what was even worse, he didn't care, care.
He was kind to all of "his kids" as they came to practice, both the varsity boys and the eager, warm young girls. But he no longer saw them as members of one sex or the other. Hell, he had pasted a piece of masking tape over the peephole in his window on the shower room. The nasty business with Denny had ripped off his desire; he was a mental eunuch.
But an odd thing happened after five days of this. He became aware that music came from the other side of the house. It was happy music, and quite loud. Either Denny wanted to hear him bang on the wall so she could tell him to go fuck himself-they had had some good laughs about that when things were happier between them-or she wanted him to try and break the lease. In any case, it was better than her simply hating him, ignoring him.
He clung to the idea that maybe he had been right. Maybe her innocence was faked. It didn't really help, but he hung on to it. And he decided to investigate.
"Raul," he said to his best outfielder, "are you getting enough pussy? Remember what I told you, there's probably not a girl in either high school, if she's got any red blood at all, that wouldn't be glad to stick her ass up for your cock!"
Raul grinned. "I been doing pretty good," he temporized. He felt it might not be a good idea to tell the coach about him and Aunt Cef, and how much fucking she had to have. Or that his little sister, now that she was no longer a virgin, seemed the best fuck in the world, even if Aunt Cef did keep him milked.
"How's about something new?" Terry asked slyly. "You know that catcher on the girls' team? The one with the built-in chest protector?" He made a gesture out and around and back from his chest, and Raul looked interested.
"She's really got the tits," the boy said. "You mean I could ball her?"
"Man, she'd take you on in Bullock's window at high noon on Dollar Day," . Terry said. "Want a crack at her this afternoon? You can use my house."
Sneaky, yes, but sort of necessary. If, by any chance, he had been right about Denny, well, this might do it. He went home openly, taking Janice Chandler with him, whispering lewd nothings to her so that her big, soft knockers were tingling, her fat, tight little cunt was drooling. "This kid's great," he told her. "Cock bigger than minethicker, anyhow. And he eats pussy like a gourmet! You'll love him!"
Without knowing what a gourmet was, but blindly trusting the coach, Janice skipped happily as she walked up the drive with Terry, her huge boobs jouncing in a tumult of flesh.
Perhaps as his little agent's fee, perhaps to change his luck, Terry could not resist a feel, a quick suck between those soft, slick cuntlips. He sneaked out the back as Raul sneaked in, and he whispered: "Go on up, kid. She's hot and ready!"
So was Terry, all at once.
If Denny was a cheat, a spy, he'd soon know it. If she were not, well and good-no harm done; Raul and Jan would have had a nice, sweet time as boys and girls should. He felt his load lightened, and a different kind of load suddenly growing in his balls. And a great idea. If Denny phoned Riff Adamson, the old fart would tear off to Terry's. And he, Terry, was safe.
In a moment of new freedom, he thought of Kitty. She was his, and she was, after all, the best.
* * *
Kitty was hot with yearning as she ran to Terry's office at his summons, excited as a kid at Christmas, wild with the needing heat in her little cunt.
"My baby," he whispered as he took her in his arms, so light and small that she was off the floor, her arms around his neck, her lovely legs around his waist, her wide-open young pussy hot and slick against his naked belly.
Naked? Yes; he didn't worry about Adamson. And the big wrestling mat on his floor, perfectly legitimate for a team coach to requisition, was just perfect for fucking.
"Let me kiss it," the little girl said wistfully, holding his cock after they lay down. "Oh, Terry, it's been so long! I'm so hungry for a mouthful of your cum!" It was true; she felt it was smoother, richer, than her brother Raul's. Just as his cock, although not quite so thick, was longer, and made her cunt feel so much deeper, made it flow more generously.
All his blasted manhood flooded back; his balls seemed twice as big, achingly full; his cock, surely, had never been so hard, so full of that raw nervousness that makes coming such a painfully delightful experience.
"First," he said huskily, "I want to lick you all over!"
Kitty let out a muffled scream of laughing protest as he started in the crack of her ass, surprising her because she thought he was surely aiming at her open, itching pussy. "I'm not even clean back there!" she cried, but she bounced her sweet little ass up at him, and squirmed with skin-crawling pleasure as his tongue went in where his finger had been so long ago.
"God, how I love your sweat!" he growled, chewing in the thick clusters of black hair in her armpits. She, with his cock now deep in her stretching throat, made little noises of joy, their vibration adding to the cummy feeling in the head of his cock.
She pulled his thighs apart with her hands, feasting her eyes on his big balls, on the sweat-matted hair, believing that she would come before he ever touched her pussy. This was life and love; this was why a woman had been given her cloven body to fuck with, her mouth and tongue and lips to suck with. If I had teeth in my cunt, how I would chew that lovely prick, her heated imagination said, and once more she almost creamed in her empty cunt, so wild was the thrill of the idea.
The coach was now sucking her tits, taking first one and then the other deep in his mouth, sucking hard enough to draw milk from them, and she giggled at the notion. Aunt Cef, she knew from Raul, was actually producing milk like crazy. Real milk, strong as hell in taste-rich and chili flavored, he swore. Some day, maybe she would do the same thing, but now she felt an orgasm grow unbidden in her belly, flare and flame and shoot through every dark inch inside her cunt, in her guts, until it seemed her pussy was turning inside out and her inner parts, guts and all, would tumble out.
"Ohhh! Ohhh!" She had pulled away from Terry's prick, her little face twisted against the come-pains which were so lovely, as the coach ate into her throbbing pussy, sucking the walls of her snatch together so that the raw nerves, so near the surface in that tight and flowing sheath, rasped against each other in unspeakable joy. "I'm coming!" she cried, her inflamed body leaping in Terry's strong arms.
And then, as his own heat flamed uncontrollably, and his semen boiled up through his cock to lash across her titties and face, she gave way to the final delirium of lust, taking the spurting prick deep into her throat, sucking the sweetness of his jism under her tongue, swirling the milky flow in her mouth as the fire of her own coming grew and grew and burst at last, leaving her limp.
Limp and happy, still softly sucking at the softening cock, letting little, slick drops of the coach's cum dribble from her mouth, scooping them up with her fingers, eating his seed in an afterglow of love and peace. She held his big, wilted prick in her warm little hand, now licking at the head as if it were an ice-cream cone, squeezing the pliable column and laughing when this caused the head to swell and turn purple again.
They were relaxed and happy to a point where the lashing voice from the door struck them dumb and paralyzed with shock. It was W.R. Adamson, the principal, his craggy features suffused with blood, almost speechless with righteous anger.
"Get dressed, Ladron," he said in a shaking voice. "Clean your desk out and don't let me ever see you around here again. There's a board meeting tomorrow afternoon. You'll get formal notice of being fired then. FIRED!" the old man screamed. "I wish I could have you hung!"
He turned to Kitty, who, partly dressed, was trying to leave, and cried: "Get home to your mother! She's as much to blame for this as anyone!"
Terry was glad, in a way, as he drove slowly home. At least the trouble, about which Carver and Ceferina and Riff had warned him, had burst in his face and was over. There were other towns and other jobs. He would live; there would be other girls; his getting caught was more than simple bad luck.
He puzzled over the notion that it might or might not be Denny Albright; how could she have guessed he'd be eating on Kitty's pussy in his office? His heart was heavy.
He tried to avoid Raul, who looked happy and excited. He didn't want to hear of the big boy's success with the big-titted young catcher. But the boy wouldn't let him go, and his babbled story began to make sense.
"These two dudes, Coach," Raul said, "they thought I was some wetback gardener because I was mowing your lawn again. They talked about buying your property. 'Suppose he still won't sell?' one of them asked. Right in front of me! Just for laughs, I told them I no sabe Inglese, and the dumb assholes believed it!" He capered about, gesturing, grinning.
"Come on, come on," Terry said testily. "What else?"
"Why, the other guy laughed and said: 'No sweat. He'll sell. When Wells really gets on to a guy, he gets the poor bastard where he has to jump if Wells hollers frog.' So they went all around, stepping off the lot, figuring on paper, the works."
All the rest of the afternoon, alone and unhappy, he tried to figure things out. If Denny was against him-and who could blame her?-he'd as soon leave town. That fucking Wells Carver, let him have his cheap little victory. He thought of the love and the silly, girlish, hot devotion of those warm little cunts from his team, but what the hell? "I couldn't take care of all of you, anyhow," he muttered to their invisible presences.
And Kitty? The sweetest of all-fantastic. Hot and loving and giving, always loyal, needing him to direct her. "To make me behave," she had said.
"I'll break you up with that Denny Albright," he swore aloud, and then, realizing that it would be a cheap revenge that would only hurt Kitty, he laid his head in his hands and wept.
He started when a soft, warm hand touched his neck, and looked wildly around. "I might have known!" he said. "Kitty! You'd always come to help me, wouldn't you, baby?" He held her to him fiercely, and in spite of his cold anger and fear, he was aware of the shape and warmth and firm resilience of her boobs, covered only by one thickness of thin fabric.
There was a sweep of headlights up his drive, and he whispered to Kitty: "Go out the back way, baby. This is trouble!"
She kissed him on the lips, not lightly, but with hot ferocity, and he marveled that this child, in trouble just as he was, could still keep passion in her lips and tongue. And then she was gone, down the hall, into his big kitchen.
He went to the door, amused at himself that he should still care what happened when nothing but bad could happen. He was right; it was trouble.
Riff Adamson, and he was cold and vengeful.
"I told you, Ladron," the principal said. "I had hoped to get you out of town without having you arrested. But I followed little Kitty Morales here. You've debauched her. I hate to use such a melodramatic word, but it fits. Goddamn you! A thirty-three-year-old man, almost twenty years older than Kitty! I'm calling the sheriff. Right now!"
There was girl talk, not quite audible, from the kitchen, and light laughter. The door flew open as the old man stared, and Denny Albright came in through the dining room, on into the living room where Terry stood transfixed. She had Kitty by the hand, and they were both laughing gaily.
"Oh, hi! Mister Adamson!" Denny cried. "You got here just in time! I asked Kitty to come by, and we're making some tea! Won't you join us?"
She looked so fresh and beautiful, so utterly without care or guile, that the entire bottom fell out of Riff Adamson's built-up wrath. And, as he turned to go, muttering: "Thanks ... sorry I can't stay," the gorgeous girl with the voluptuous body and the full-lipped smile looked at the dazed coach and gave him the biggest, most confident wink he had ever seen.
It was hard to settle down after such an adrenalin-flooding climax. They ate simple things from the refrigerator, from cans and from Denny's larder. And Terry, holding Denny and looking straight into her clear, blue eyes said, time after time: "To think I could believe anything bad of you!" And th'ey would kiss, warm tongue searching out warm tongue, her hands playing up and down the hard shaft in his slacks, his hands softly, lovingly on her jugs.
Except, of course, when the happy Kitty was crawling all over both of them. And undressing them. "Because, after all, Terry and I got interrupted," the hot little girl laughed, dropping her sweet little face to suck with poignant affection on one of Denny's long, hard nipples, or on Terry's long, hard prick.
It reminded the coach too forcefully of the scene in his office. "Old Riff still has enough on me to fire me. To hang me, if he gets mad enough," he said sorrowfully, even while Denny was sitting on his belly, lifting her beautiful ass to get his cock into her horny box. "Oh, well, fuck it!" he grinned, and the dance teacher, her face taut with lust as she slid down his cock and it struck her cervix and stretched the closed sheath of her cunt, gasped: "That's what I want, baby! Fuck it!"
Life wasn't too bad, Terry felt. If a miracle like Denny's love could happen, maybe another miracle could occur.
"Like that old bastard falling under a truck," he muttered, his face pressed against little Kitty's parted cuntlips.
"What'd you say?" the girl gasped, rubbing her split hard against him.
"I said it's nice to fall into a fuck," he lied, and they all laughed, boldly, defiantly, courageously.
CHAPTER 16
UNFORTUNATELY, THE COURAGE THAT lives only on lust can die as a prick softens, as sated nuts shrivel in their sac. Terry was drowned in gloom as the fateful day dawned.
He called in sick, as a cover, then called Wells Carver and said: "Em ready to sell. Get your money boys around here."
And his one-time friend crowed: "No need for that, baby! I've got my own check here as a binder. I'll bring you the Agreement to Purchase in an hour. By the way, is that the pool-cleaner guy there now? Ask him to call me, will you?"
Some sort of light shot through the darkness of Terry's mind. He went to his east window. Sure enough, there the fellow was, giving the pool its usual biweekly cleaning.
He went upstairs and got his old Navy binoculars out from a drawer. Over his hedge, he could see the top five floors of the bank building. Two blocks away! One reason his property, so close in, was so valuable as an apartment site. And Carver's office was on the top floor! Well, well!
Terry knocked on the door and Denny, her lovely body warm with sleep, smilingly opened.
"Come have a look," he said. "That's who's been spreading stories about me, the son of a bitch up on that tenth floor. And I was going to let him have my property! Brother! I think I can get him for criminal conspiracy. The least I'll do is beat his ears off!"
The lovely woman, her generously sculptured ass in plain view under her very short shortie nightgown, smiled at him.
"Make love, not war, Terry dear," she said softly. She put one foot on the window sill, her scarlet inner cuntlips showing bright between the long-haired outer lips. "No long fuck, my darling-just a sip."
He grinned up at her, opening his mouth, and drank deeply of the warm, saline flow from her pussy, filled with joy as the wonderful girl held his head with her strong hands, quivering as she felt the heat burst in her clit.
"That's enough for now," she whispered, bending to kiss his wet mouth. "We'll have lots of time." She went swiftly to the door that led to her side of the house, and disappeared.
Anger stayed with Terry as he packed the things he meant to take with him. "No hurry, now," he muttered. "I'll have to find new buyers for my place. That fucking Carver!"
He was interrupted by voices from downstairs. Ceferina, of course, but who were the others?
He trotted downstairs, and found Kitty and Raul with their aunt, who was looking faintly ill.
He greeted them all, and said: "I'm sorry, Ceferina, I haven't eaten breakfast yet, but you can start cleaning up the bedroom." He grinned sourly. "Maybe for the last time!"
He smiled as bravely as he could, but his heart ached. Ceferina looked so sad. If these kids weren't here, he'd tumble her in his bed as she bent to make it up, jam his cock into that richly muscled, gratefully responding pussy. Those magnificent tits, too! He hated to leave them. But Raul was speaking.
"Aunt Cef s here to clean up something a hell of a lot more important than your bed, Coach," the boy said gravely.
And Kitty, almost dancing with eagerness, her hand on Terry's arm, said: "Yeah! You know what you were wondering last night-why Old Man Adamson was always on your back about me and the other girls-but mostly me? You'll never believe it!" She was close to hysteria, giggling and swaying, and Terry slapped her across her rounded little ass and said sharply: "Cool it! Now, Ceferina, what goes on?"
It was a pitiful little tale.
"Oh, Mr. Ladron, I never had any idea it would ever hurt you," the woman choked, tears pouring down her face. "When I was a kid-Kitty's age, I guess, I had a long, uh, well, I guess you could call it an affair. With Riff Adamson! I can't help it!" she cried, looking at Raul and Kitty. "He never should have treated me the way he did!"
"Nobody's blaming you, Aunt Cef," Raul said kindly. Unconsciously, his hand patted and stroked her lovely, strong rump.
"You got pregnant?" Terry prodded.
"Yes, I did!" the woman sobbed. "But he wouldn't marry me! Said he had always put his career first, and he always would. My sister adopted Kitty. And after that, Riff never spoke to me again! Look at me!" she cried. "I'm not all that ugly! You like me, don't you, Mr. Ladron? And Raul, you like me, don't you?"
"You're marvelous, Ceferina," Terry answered, smiling a tight smile. He, too, patted her on the ass, looking down into the peasant blouse at her boobs. "It's fantastic that Kitty should be Old Riff's daughter.
Ceferina spat in anger. "That dry-balled old fool!" she cried. "He was always so careful! He never knocked me up. My baby!" she cried, folding Kitty against her breast. "Her daddy was Raul's daddy! Manuel Morales-Paransa!"
The kids nodded, and Terry swore. "Who knows of this?" he demanded.
Ceferina was calm. "Only my sister and these two," she said. "I never took money from the old rat. But I let him eat his guts out, let him believe that Kitty was his." She wiped her eyes and smiled. "I guess it was a stupid, cheap thing to do, Mr. Terry. But I can blast him out of his job any time I want to. I've got a stack of letters from him, begging me to stay quiet!"
Kitty pressed her warm little body against him, unashamed, and felt in his crotch to squeeze his prick as Ceferina and Raul smiled. "I guess we've got no secrets from each other, have we?" Terry grinned, and bent to kiss Ceferina on one of her big, firm titties. "Ceferina, I think you've just saved my life!"
He had a little trouble getting Adamson on the phone. The old boy was really rough. But when Terry said: "I've got the dope on why you've been so hard-nosed about little Kitty Gonzales-oh, pardon me, I meant Morales, of course!" The man caved.
After they had the big confrontation, and Adamson, more shaken than Terry could have imagined, crying and trembling, Terry asked him: "Why, in God's name, with your kind of track record, fucking a thirteen-year-old Mexican kid, did you have to pull that holier-than-thou crap on me? That's not a rhetorical question, I want an answer. Why?"
The older man shook his bent head, one hand over her face.
"It was guilt, I guess," he answered in a low voice. "That and maybe envy. And the idea of protecting my daughter."
Kitty giggled. "You were always trying to look up my dress, Mr. Adamson," she said. "Every time you had an excuse, you put your arm around me and felt my boobs!"
"All right! All right!" the man shouted. "You reminded me of your mother! Of your aunt, I mean! Well, of Ceferina!" He stood up. "What do you want? Surely a confession of all this dirt wouldn't help anyone. I'm of retirement age. I'll resign." His voice sounded like a dead man's, and Terry pulled the bent old fellow down into a chair.
"Take it easy, Riff," he said. "I hold no grudge. Maybe Ceferina does. She's got a different reason. I don't want you to resign." He thought a minute.
"What I want from you is more backing for the kids' teams. A little more budget. Better equipment. Class schedules that let the kids have time for play and practice."
Adamson was incredulous. "And that's all?" he asked.
Terry smiled. "Well, it'll make me look good, too," he conceded. "I want you to help me when I get a chance to move up."
The principal was a changed, charged-up man as he left.
"Looks like he did fifteen years ago," Ceferina said as she, too, left. She kissed them all, giving Terry and Raul each a squeeze on their cocks. "Hasta luego," she whispered, and Raul answered: "Vaya con Dios, Aunt Cef!"
It seemed only natural that they should gravitate up to the big bedroom, and it was certainly necessary that they had Denny over to hear the news.
She was in the skimpiest of thin shorts, with a ruffled satin blouse that gave her big boobs free play to romp and quake. "I've been practicing some easy routines," she said, and Terry, grinning, said: "You ought to ask us into your hall of mirrors and do some of those cunt-popping calisthenics."
Her severe tone was canceled by her smile as she answered: "Really, Mr. Ladron! Before this young man?"
Raul spoke up boldly:;-"I'm old enough to appreciate such things, Miss Denny. Ask the coach. Ask my sister!"
"And you ought to see what he's got to appreciate them with," Terry laughed. "You'll love it!"
It was easy to break the ice after that, since there was enough heat in that quartet to melt the snows of Kilimanjaro.
To make certain that Raul felt easy about it all, Denny and Kitty undressed him, making much of his cock Denny, insisting that she got first dibs on it, screamed as his thick cock seemed to stretch her pussy. "You're just too big!" she cried, and little Kitty, kneeling before Terry with his cock in her throat, rolled her eyes and winked at him.
Wonderful little kid! What a fuck he'd give her! Right in her tight little asshole. She could sit on it and lie on her back on his belly. Jesus, how a cunt gaped open, red, wet, yawning, when its owner had a prick in her yearning, squirming ass! Raul could slip it into her from above. What a sandwich that would be!
"Suck easy, baby doll," Terry whispered, holding the small head in his hands, feeling her titties against his legs. "Come on, get up," he said, flashing a glance at Denny's tense face as she fucked so expertly up on Raul's strong cock. Heat ran through him!
"If you can take that cock," the coach whispered to Kitty, smiling as she nestled her little ass down on him, "you know damned well that Denny's got to be kidding!"
She placed the head of his cock into the bulging wetness of her cunt with one hand in front, one in back, to guide it.
"Don't be vulgar," she said, and then laughed in delight. "Denny can open up so you could get your whole fist into her," the little kid confided. "And she can put a pencil in it and hold it so tight you can't pull it out! Ooooh! That feels good! Ooooh, Terry, can you feel me kissing you way up inside?"
Her serious little face was a study in concern, and the man felt the slow, caressing strength of muscle inside that young and amazingly talented cunt. Around the head, around the stem, then a slow crawl, then a hard clutch of softness and heat.
"Raise up just a little, baby," Terry grunted. "Let me get my fingers into that hair. Wow! You're so sweet! Can you come for me? I love that flutter in your cunt when you come!"
The hot little kid jogged her ass, eyes shut in concentration, then threw herself madly down on his chest, her tongue going into his mouth as her cunt came almost off his extended cock. She kissed and tongued and slid back, and he felt the muscle-flutter he had asked for. As he held her, listening to her breathing get back to normal, he heard his front door open.
"Don't panic," he laughed. "Who can hurt us? I'll kick that finky Carver's ass out if it's him. He already knows he's lost any chance to grab my house." He pulled on shorts and went downstairs. To a sight he could hardly believe.
Ceferina, on her back, her beautiful belly with its deep puff of black hair framing her red slash of cunt, that he could believe. Her grunts of lust and dedication, those he believed.
But not Old Man Adamson. Fully dressed, pants open and down around his knees with his shorts.
Right there between Ceferina's legs, with a big hard-on, tickling the sweet pussy with his fingers now, but with shiny smears on his cheeks which showed he'd been sucking that twat as soon as Ceferina hit the carpet and got her dress up.
The principal looked at him with a hangdog grin, humbly asking for understanding. "Ceferina said it would be all right," he said. "We had no place else to go."
He started to get up, but Ceferina grabbed his cock.' "No, Riff!" she cried. "Stick it in me, big boy! It's been so long!"
Terry looked stern. "You stick it in her, Riff," he said. "Or, by God, I will!"
He laughed as he turned to go back upstairs. He went back to the door and shot the bolt. Those two chumps had forgotten to do it. Ceferina was humping like a machine and the busy cock and cunt were making a wet and sloppy sound. It was an arousing sight, and Terry took the stairs three at a time.
His tiny girl friend was lying with her legs apart, two of her fingers playing in and out of her sweet little pussy.
Terry pulled her hand away gently and turned her up to his mouth, pushing his tongue slowly into the flowing lips, pushing the. black hairs out of the way, nibbling with his lips. Her smooth little body moved gently up and down, the young cunt seeming to nibble back at him, and he felt his cock rubbing hungrily against the smoothness of the sheet.
He sucked a long time, feeling the flesh of the young girl's thighs tighten and relax as he gave her come after come, each one a soft, rippling release that left her more and more tender and sensitive, so that they were coming closer together.
When she hung, all her body trembling, all muscles taut, her clenched ass a couple of inches above the sheet, he got up swiftly, held her thickened cuntlips open, and drove into her pussy with all the weight of his body, all the length of his cock.
Kitty screamed against his neck and her cunt clamped around his dong like a tender vise, its young muscles riding and rippling and milking. Her cervix ground slickly around and against his flaming cockhead, and the closed end of her cunt compressed it in tender force.
Terry fell forward on her, his prick pumping its jets of semen into her dark, hot interior. He came for a long time. He was free. She would suck him up. Or Denny would. Life was okay.
