THE CHEERLEADERS REALLY ATE UP THE FOOTBALL HEROES....
"Ohhh!" She gasped as Peter's head came forward. Before she knew what had happened, his hands had slid up the backs of her thighs. His fingers were under her panties, caressing her buttocks. And his mouth was at her crotch, his hot breath melting her secret feminine treasure, his lips working against the fabric of her panties, his tongue pushing boldly at the target of her shrouded sex that puffed out against his face.
"Ohhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Oh! Don! Don!" she whispered, instinctively knotting her hands in his hair, thrusting her abdomen forward in delirious reaction to the startlingly obscene homage he was paying to the pit of her body. She wanted to spread her thighs, jackknife her legs open and sink down on his ravenous, electrifying mouth, to abandon her genital jewel to his lips and tongue....
CHAPTER ONE
Sixteen seconds to go, tied at thirteen even, the whole stadium on its feet, gnawing at knuckles. Sixty yards from the playoff-without the ball.
"Come on you guys!" Jennifer barked. Shelly and the other two girls snapped out of their stupefaction, leaping to join Jennifer, not facing the stands now. To hell with all those people, this was it for the team:
Scared in the hunchdown Stomp em to the floor They want a touchdown We want it more!
Shelly lunged to left and right, flourishing the pompoms high above her head as though they were lightning bolts she could smite the other team with. She was sweating all over from tension and hard work-sweating inside the skintight sweater, steaming in the high black boots, sodden where the flimsy scarlet panties clung to her bottom and belly.
The huddle was breaking up.
More for Saturday Again on Sunday Show em who you are now Come on Bundy!
Come onnnnnn, Shelly despaired, kicking her booted feet high in the air, bending over so that the little black skirt flipped up over her jerking buttocks, then uncoiling, leaping into the air with her breasts and arms thrown out.
The clock was moving insidiously. The teams squared off. The ball snapped back as the black-and-scarlet Panthers smashed the defensive line apart. A furious blur of scuffling players. The ball whizzed out in a lateral-intercepted.
"INTERCEPT!!...." Carla screamed, frozen stiff by the miracle. Shelby's eyes bulged. The crowd was roaring.
"Ronnie, Ronnie!" wailed Jennifer.
Shelly glanced to Ronnie, breaking loose, charging down the field as Stefan feinted with the stolen pigskin. Ronnie was free, waving as he half-turned. Stefan saw him-a bullet pass. He had it, had it and was sprinting.
"Go, go-go-go, go Ronnie GOOOOOOO!" the girls shrieked in unbearable ecstasy.
Shelly tightened herself into a ball, then exploded into the air, pom-poms whirling, her body arching in a gravity-defying spasm with her skirt up around her waist, her heels kicked up behind her, the scarlet triangle of her panties signaling to Ronnie like a red flag. She would have burnt at the stake for either of them!
Ronnie raced upfield, eluding his last potential captor. The roaring swelled to a thunderous manic clamor. He was headed for the goal posts, running right between them, downing the ball victoriously and turning in a panting smile.
The whistle was screaming shrilly-they had done it, they had won, touchdown and it was over.
"We won! They won! Yaaayyyyy! Yippee, Panthers, mighty Panthers, school's open Monday, Ronnie and Stefan, the heroes of Bundy! Bundy! Bundy! Rah-rahrah! Panthers! Panthers! Sis-boom-bah, Rah-rah, rahrah-rah! Rah-Rah, Rah-Rah-Rah! RAH! RAH! RAHRAHRAH! BUNDYEEEE! YAAYYYYYYEEEEEEE!"
Shelly turned cartwheels for joy. The other three cheerleaders jumped up and down in triumphant agitation. Nearly trampled as excited parents and students swept down out of the stands and poured onto the field to congratulate the astonished team. A perfunctory cheer for the losing school went up as the scoreboard readjusted itself to show the final 19-13 score.
"Don't catch cold!" advised a sneering voice. Shelly came wheeling upright, her blonde hair shaking down over her shoulders as the little skirt flipped down over her loins. She glared at Walt, then spun away. What did she care about his cracks! They had won-the Panthers would go to the play-offs and they would too! Shelly grabbed Carla's hand and they ran across the field, throwing their pom-poms high in the air and turning beautifully-coordinated somersaults, racing to be among the first to kiss the heroes, the players they had slaved for through the hot afternoon.
Glorious, gorgeous day! She knew how Stefan felt the moment she caught his shining eyes. She felt the same fullness of the battle, for him, for them, for herself, for the whole school.
* * *
Ronnie's father had given him the new Bonneville for the week-great bathtub of a car that he'd wished he hadn't accepted when he learned how it wallowed. He had parked it at the rear of the Froster Monster Drive-in, holding court as hundreds of jubilant schoolmates bucked and squealed around the big parking lot.
Shelly and Stefan sat in the back seat. Shelly was going to ask Ronnie again why he hadn't invited one of the girls into the mobile lounge but she was feeling too deliriously happy. Crammed full of cheeseburger and onion rings and creamy milkshake.
The radio blaring out good music and announcements of Bundy's victory: Bundy can go all the way now, Go-Go Panthers! The WJIZ Good Guys salute the outasight Bundy Varsity....
Shelly laid her head against Stefan's game-wracked body. She was still in the sexy cheerleader's outfit, proud that she could wear it at his side in front of all the kids who were convening on the Drive-in.
She ran her hand up his leg, gripping the hard thigh muscles in fascination, squeezing his knee adoringly. Ronnie craned his jaws open and inserted the last half of his third cheeseburger between his teeth.
"How you guys doin?" Ronnie asked, winking at her in his rear-view mirror.
Shelly winked back at him. Sometimes she felt just like a sister to Ronnie. Superstud and athlete though he seemed to be, he really acted just like a kid. Maybe he really was bashful-would you believe it!
"What is it with you and girls anyway?" she blurted.
Stefan sat up, choking on his mouthful of cheeseburger.
Ronnie gripped the Bonneville's steering-wheel, staring back at her from the mirror.
"I mean, Jennifer's really hung up on you. She is! Not to mention about fifty thousand other girls right here now."
"You too?" Ronnie was going mischievous again.
"I might be," Shelly grinned, "if Stefan wound up in a body cast or an iron lung or something-I'm only kidding, sugar." She gave Stefan's knee another, more meaningful squeeze. He looked at her. Words weren't necessary.
"Hey, pal, great run today!"
"Great steal, man-you Armenians are too much, man!"
"Sleazy and sneaky as they come. So long, Ron!"
"By-bye Ronnie-remember what I said. I hate to leave you sitting in a car all alone like this!"
"Ah, don't sweat it, Shelly. See you guys later!"
"Right. Take it easy, Ron!"
"Fantastic game, Ronnie!"
"Thanks."
"Later, man."
"Are you shaking your ass more than usual?" Stefan asked as they walked to his Javelin, waving to the kids.
"Suppose I am, haven't I got a good ass?" Shelly wiggled it a little more for Hm like a show-off because they both knew everyone was looking at her jutting behind over which the black skirt barely draped.
"Yeah, just so long as I get the first piece of it!" Stefan said archly.
Clank, clonk-they both slammed their doors shut. Stefan started the car's engine, which had been tuned to irascible temperament.
"Who said anybody's gonna get a piece of itoowwwww!" she exclaimed trying to guard the nipple he had reached over and pinched.
"I know somebody's going to get a piece of something!" he said.
Blahhh-rummmmmm-screech-blahroooooomrhuuummmmmmm, the car jockeyed out of the maze of metal and sauntering teenagers and took off up the street.
It was parked several minutes later in the shadows across the street from Shelby's house. The windows were already turning grey with steam. The seats were reclined. Shelly laid back after their torrid tongue-meshing kiss and embrace. She looked like a succulent Barbie Doll.
Her eyes were wide with playful vanity as Stefan's hands came to her waist. He pushed the scarlet sweater up, baring her flat girlish belly with its darkly navelled pit. His hands held her by the waist for a moment. His hands were so big-he could almost wrap them around the narrowest pinched part of her hourglass figure. She sighed with satisfaction as his touseled head bent and planted an awkward kiss on her tummy. It was so nice when he did things like that-as though worshipping her body. It made her so proud! But it also triggered apprehension: so hard to hold back the strange forces that had been gathering in her body for the last two years!
"Ohhhhh!" she breathed, watching intently as he pushed her sweater up further until it bunched around her chest. She didn't want to heed the programmed warnings speaking in her head. She reached down herself and pulled the sweater up over the tightly-stuffed domes of her brassiere.
Stefan's breath audibly quickened as she exposed herself to him. He looked at her shielded breasts with unconcealed hunger. His legs swung over hers and he reached up under her, his fingers searching for the hooks of the tantalizing bra.
Shelly let him grope for a few seconds, reveling at the feel of his feverish fingers. Then she arched her back slightly, still looking into his dark eyes as he tore the clasp apart.
His hands surfaced and hooked the top of the cups which had molded themselves to the twin bulges of her rising bosom. He peeled them down, slowly, arousing them both as the voluptuous swellings on her chest were exposed, inch by inch, rich mounds that glowed sensuously, mounding up, high firm hemispheres, and at last the erotic spectacle of their summits-the deceptively small jutting tips of her nipples atop the dark circles of mammary tissue, and then stripped free of her bra, the pristine peaks fully uncovered....
"Mmmmmmmm," Shelly sighed, stretching her arms above her head and pulling the sweater completely off, further exciting them both by the way her breasts changed their contours as she lifted her shoulders. Now she was naked from the waist up for him. Yielding to the desire she felt to have him caress her beautiful body, the eventuality of the intense mutual petting they were both crazy for.
Stefan closed his large hands over the upthrust creamy globes. Her soft budding nipples tickled his palms. He couldn't resist the impulse to squeeze his fingertips around the base of her boobs, to sink them into the resilient fleshy spheres as if searching for the secret marvel of their milk-making mechanism which lurked within like an elusive bone blooming out to the tip.
His palms roughed back and forth over the sensitive nerve-rich nodes of her nipples. Shelly could almost feel the blood flooding hotly through her breasts, gathering in the erectile tissue at their tips, summoned by the dreamy friction his hands applied to her statuesque spheres.
Stefan loosed his grip and with surprising gentleness began coaxing forth the drama proclaimed by her promontories by caressing the soft baselines of her naked bosom. He knew she was watching with him, their eyes focussing intently, as the crinkly nubs became flushed, and then filled with blood, almost surging forth, enlarging, hardening, rising, turning to hard horny darts nearly half an inch high that stabbed upwards into the air with each stimulated heartbeat.
He licked his lips at the sight of the turgid berry-tips that only he, so far as he knew, had ever tasted.
"Mmmm, lick them, Stef! Kiss them, angel!"
He needed no encouragement. Bending over her body like a wild boar, he rooted his face in the hot cleavage formed by her precocious vibrant domes. His tongue shot out and wet the groove that ran between them. He started licking, his saliva pouring forth, painting them with wetness, up the deliriously sloped sides of each mound.
"Uuuuunnnnhhhhhh!" Shelly breathed, her heart racing as her breasts turned to shining wet melons under his greedy tongue. She was breathing quickly, her chest rising and falling, hardly able to wait till he got to the top.
"Ohhhh sugar yes! Yes!" she affirmed when his lips finally sought one of her itching nipples. His mouth closed over the entire pointed tip of her boob, the throbbing nipple sucked in, distorted between his jaws, pulsing in his mouth, her bare nipple being sucked in the wet vacuum of his devouring mouth. Shelly stared down at the top of his head, feeling his face buried in the richness of her ripe breast, moaning softly as he pulled the nipple up and up and then began running his tongue-tip round and round the distended wooden knob, sending feverish thrills of erotic longing dancing through her body.
The other one was hard and dry too. She wound her fingers in his thick hair and urged his head over. Reluctantly he loosed his leech-like hold, leaving the erect nipple tingling, nearly numb. His mouth went gumming its way down into the velvet valley and then up the soft meaty side of the mirror-perfect twin teat. He pursed his lips around the nutty protuberance, chafing it, teasing her until her fingers tightened urgently in his hair.
Then he slooped his mouth over the conical summit of her ballooning bubby, scouring the long stiff nipple with his tongue as he pulled at the swollen sex-flushed sphere.
"Yes, oh yes, Stef, it feels so good when you suck them!" Shelly held his head in her hands, guiding him like a great barely-tamed animal back and forth between her shimmering, saliva-coated orbs. Twisting her body to make him take the aching nippled tips, giving him her swollen girlish teats, arching her back in rapture as his mouth voraciously suckled, pulling at the lush twin crowns of her femininity like a greedy, gasping human pump.
"Ohh-oh-oh-ohhhh, careful, angel, be careful!" she crooned, when Stefan drew his lips back and gently ran the sharp edges of his big white teeth back and forth around the fibrous nodules that pulsed up into his mouth.
Shelly held her breath, ready to choke off a scream should he forget himself and actually bite her in his excitement. But she simultaneously shut her eyes and threw her head back, concentrating on the pressure of his lips and face pushing, nuzzling, seeking her beautiful pliant breasts. This is how she had been introduced to sex, overcoming her fears and exposing to Stefan the breasts he'd fondled for so long, that he had told her he dreamed about. It was so much better than a dream-his mouth kissing and sucking the nerve-rich tender tips of her half-naked body.
She felt his hands sliding down her tapering narrow waist. His body lifted off her slightly and she arched hers, pushing up to maintain the erotic pleasure she derived from feeling his captive bulky sex organ pressing down on her pubis like a thick log of living need. His fingers slid under her buttocks, and he squeezed them in his hands momentarily, reminding her that the globes of her firmly-muscled behind were nearly as sensitive as her breasts.
Then he unclasped the little hook on the costume miniskirt. She felt him pushing it down, felt the skirt and his hands riding down her thighs, and knew he wanted to undress her, to see all of her. And she wanted him to! In the misted privacy of the car, she wanted to reward his ardor with the sight of her nakedness, her lush body that she herself admired so in her bedroom mirror. She had never been completely naked in his hands and even though she had mixed feelings about giving herself to Stefan, she knew she couldn't deny him or herself the pleasures for which she was so conspicuously equipped.
She drew up one leg, bringing it up until his hands groped for the black leatherette boot, unzipped it, and worked it off. Then the other and it too fell to the floor of the car. Then he was arching his body up over her, the weight of his mouth crushing down against one of her breasts as she crooked her knees up under him and let him push her skirt completely off.
Shelly opened her eyes, shivering with delight as she saw his gleaming gaze sweep down her body. She watched almost breathless as he stooped and kissed her belly softly, centering his face over her navel and surprising her by boring into the shallow pit with his wet tongue as she squirmed and squealed.
"Ooooo, baby! Oooooo, it feels so weird! Ooooooohhhhh!"
His fingers were at her hips, hooking into the waistband of the flimsy scarlet panties.
"Swwoooooo!" ... Shelly sucked in her breath and timidly lifted her buttocks again, permitting him to do that which she had never dared trust herself with before: letting him take off her underpanties, the last symbolic barrier which she had always relied on to comfort her virgin consciousness when she petted with a boy and let him explore her tantalizingly matured body.
"Jesus, Shelly, you're so beautiful! You got such a beautiful body!" Stefan whispered hoarsely, studying the naked length of her shadowy contoured nudity with awe and rising lust. She had never let him undress her completely before. First, winning the game, and now this! The blood roared in Stefan's head. He moved back on his knees, then lifted them and gently pulling her lovely legs apart, knelt between them. He could look right up between her thighs now, staring at the brazen triangular hairy mound that advertised the secret center of the sexual core his fingers had so often pleaded to touch, to tease open, to learn, and prepare for his rockhard fantasy-stiffened phallus.
"Ohhhhhh! Oh! Ohhhhhh!" Shelly sighed, shivering as Stefan's fingers, splayed wide, slid up the glossy trunks of her thighs. She didn't have to fake it like she had sometimes. This was different-the caress, unimpeded by clothing, coming right up from her knees, awakening all the nerve-ends in her bare thighs, and then: "Ohhhh, Stefan, angel!"-his fingertips were brushing the filament-like hairs in the fine creases where her thighs joined her pelvic cradle.
"Ohhhh!" Shelly was suddenly filled with mixed feelings of apprehension and desire. She had been touched through her panties, letting Stefan grope under her skirt or in her jeans, but masculine fingers had never actually violated the sanctum of her virgin sex organs. And now Stefan's thumbs were working softly down into the gap between her thighs, brushing the hot, hair-rimmed, clam-tight rims of her itching vulva.
"Ohhh, Stefan, oh my god, Stef! I had no idea, ohhhhhl"
She spread her legs more widely, knowing the gesture would expose what she herself had once seen with the help of mirrors: the delicate curving slit of her seemingly impenetrable sex parting slightly to reveal the crescent perimeter of her plumply pursing cuntal labia.
"OMihhh god! God, it feels so wonderful!" she exclaimed as Stefan took advantage of her fully-exposed crotch to tease the barely-open pussy lips with his thumbs.
He looked up the length of her prostrate body with lust-filled proud eyes, drinking in the exciting shallow plane of her belly, the twin arches of her rising ribs, the provocative profile of her lasciviously bare breasts, and the lovely face with the encouraging smile that the duskily-tipped cones framed.
Stefan couldn't remember when he hadn't wanted Sally. Now that she was naked before him, it was almost too much to believe. He had always loved her body, the alluring figure that was never more temptingly displayed than in the sexy cheerleading outfit. But now as his mind reeled with the sheer bounty of her shivering shining body, he was gripped by an unprecedented impulse to really love her, to show her she was right to trust him.
Shelly gasped in surprise as Stefan's cheeks brushed the skin of her inner thighs. She could see only the top of his head. Suddenly she felt his breath, hot, flooding between her legs, melting the tension in her groin.
"Ohhh???" Was that his mouth? His mouth pushing at the slot of her vulva?
"Ohhh-ohhhh!!!" It was wet. Hot and wet! Blinding sensations of erotic shock swept through Shelly. He was kissing her secret parts! He was kissing the hidden openings of her body with his lips! She could feel it nosing near the hooded timid trigger of her clitoris. But his tongue!
"OHHHH!" Shelly panted. "Oh Stefan yes! YESSSS!" she hissed, drawing up her legs, turning up her chaste cuntal crack for him.
"Oh angel, lover, sugar, yes, YESSS!! Eat me, Stefan, eat me!" she demanded. She craned to see, looking down over the jiggling hummocks of her breasts, her mouth open in panting amazed anticipation. He was doing it-Stefan was doing it, going down on her! Eating her!
"Ahhhhhhh, my god, ohhhh Jesus H. Christ!" she moaned, falling back on the car seat, her head exploding with the knowledge that it was his tongue which was running up and down the hot wedge of her pussy lips, anointing the unsullied labia with delicious wet oral fervor, melting the vestal divide of her young body.
"Yiiiii-ohhh! Ohhhhhh! OHHHHHH!" His lips were clamped to her, glued to the furtive furrow that framed her innocence. His tongue had transformed the protective portals into a humid, wet, delicious wound. Her body was opening for him. She could feel it! Every impression was being etched on her brain. His tongue was a small hard wet tip, pushing, pushing, boring in between the slippery soft vise of her pubic slit. Inside her! Stefan's tongue was darting inside her, unlocking the glossy walled mystery of her cuntal chasm. She had never realized this during the few times she had tentatively fingered herself: but her body was hollow. It was a soft socket, and his tongue was the key, opening it up, slithering in the shallow shoals of her fiery vulva. Like a match touching off a fireball of newly-awakened desire within her. The roiling thrusts of his worshipping tongue pulsing into her, igniting strange explosions which reeled through her body and started her loins pounding with a desperate empty sensation, a hungry hot feeling of need such as she had never known she was capable of.
"OH-OH-OH-OHHH!" Shelly was stupefied. Her body went rigid as his tongue actually found the hidden inner opening of her virginal vagina. The tiny pink-rimmed recess, the invisible orifice of her very soul. The barrier of her hymen, the protected gate of her untested vestal membrane; his tongue-tip was rooting, probing, actually penetrating this most intimate, childishly small and furtive hole! His tongue was moving back and forth in the slippery trough of her pulsating vulva, the tip licking, tantalizing, almost penetrating the ruffled gasping vortex of her vagina.
Now she felt a tremendous flooding sensation. Her body was draining. Her groin was responding to the milking frenzy of his slavish oral seduction. The long-prepared latent juices trickled down from every cell of her sex, joining in a lubricious tide that boiled in the cauldron that was half her sex organs and half Stefan's mouth, a pulpy palpitating pit awash with their combined creaming frenzy.
The rhythmic stabbings of his eager tongue started Shelly into wanton complicity with the yearning that bubbled and surged in her seething sex slot. She reached down and grabbed Stefan's hair, and hugged his body with her legs, jerking her hips, reveling in the unimagined erotic intensity of the slushy union between her virgin cuntal hole and his ravenous mouth.
Suddenly Shelly found herself picturing the accomplishment and rapture of sexual intercourse. Not the rudimentary mental sketches her mind supplied when other kids were talking or joking about sex-but the real thing, her body surrendering as it was now, her legs split open-when she had first tried out for cheerleader she had been embarrassed about exposing her crotch-surrendering, welcoming the male intrusion with convulsive rapture, the muscular, sexual spasms she could feel now for the first time in her own vagina as Stefan's tongue flickered in and out of the redolent slimy sacred orifice, her body, every cell, every nerve, focused on the pit of her body as, instead of a tongue, the real and staggering fact of the male penis penetrated her being and moved back and forth, around and around, plunging the lava-hot depths of her clamoring loins as their two bodies clung to one another.
Shelly was so transported she almost wanted Stefan to take her right now-no matter how it hurt or anything. She couldn't imagine waiting to consummate the passion they were sharing. No, she told herself, not here, not now! Yes, her body demanded, writhing and humping against the mouth and tongue that riddled the jelly of her private parts with unleashed animal hunger for the miracle of real fucking that could at last happen, if only she'd consent to it.
Panting, wild with bucking erotic greed, her sopping channel turning inside out, the pit of her body sucking at Stefan's salacious tongue, Shelly reached down and urged Stefan's body up on the seat. He twisted at right angles to her. She raised one thigh, groaning for an instant as his mouth left her, then settled it over him as he replaced his head between her legs, his head lying on her leg, his mouth almost perfectly aligned with her dripping passion slot, his tongue thrusting up deep inside her now, jamming with meaty urgency into the rippling ring of her membrane-gated cuntal aperture.
Shelly felt like a chip on a tidal wave, soaring higher and higher, being carried along at incredible velocity atop a crest that was building and building, gathering ever more force and urgency.
She struggled up and reached for Stefan, her dainty hands feverishly working to unloose his belt, the button and zipper of his fly, not only feeling but seeing the huge distended lump in his trousers. She wanted it as never before-wanted to see Stefan's sex, the rigid intimidating organ she had petted through his pants, that had been rammed against her body in the past.
Feverishly she pushed his trousers down, baring his undershorts which stuck out from his groin as if filled by some monstrous growth. It was almost impossible to control her hands with the fire of carnal hysteria that was consuming her body. She grabbed the elastic of his shorts, pulling down on them, then realizing she was bending his erect penis down with them. She seized the front of the white shorts and yanked them, out and over, past the obstacle.
"Stefan!" she gasped, her eyes filled by the spectacle of his massive engorged column snapping back against his belly, then vibrating out towards her.
It was fantastic, at once more exciting and terrifying than anything she had ever imagined. If his tongue, his mouth was launching her to what threatened to become a temporarily insane state of sexual rapture, what would his penis do? The long thick cudgel grafted to his hairy crotch like a mahogany limb.
Groaning with lust as the volcanic commotion between her legs shook her entire body, she reached out and closed the small fingers of one hand around the thick shaft that twitched in the air. Immediately, as though summoned by her virgin touch, the tiny slit at the end of Stefan's stiffened penis winked and extruded a large whitish drop of seminal fluid that hung from the mushroom-shaped crown.
Shelly tightened her fingers around the shaft, feeling every vein and channel in the stony pillar, instinctively aware of the struggle that the disparity between her tiny cuntal hole and his thick manhood would precipitate. She pulled on his penis-astounded to discover that the sheath of skin slid in her hand over the marbled hardness of the phallic column. She pushed and the sheath slid the other way, eventually stretching the burnished purplish foreskin until the single eye winked open at her.
She felt Stefan groan, the sound mixing with the lightning strokes that were beginning to flash through her heaving, clenching thighs and loins. She pulled again, stretching the cassock of skin, trying to reach the flange of foreskin, watching in awe as another drop of oozing slime milked from the blunt cudgel head.
She found the viscous drops with her thumb and timidly spread the wetness over his bell with the ball of her thumb, skating around and around until his foreskin shone like brass. His body moved, lunging at her, the thick cock moving through the handle of her fingers. She polished the bulbous foreskin again, overcoming her timidity, knowing how good it must be for Stefan from the lewd sparks in her thumb. It was so big! His thing, and his balls-the bristling hairy sac that lolled from between his football player's thighs. All of it was so formidable, so enormous. And her body was so small-she could barely get her fingers around his cock. But it was marvelous the way she could pump him.
Heaving in excitement, vaguely aware that the crescendo building in her body was going to climax in some unbearable ineffable peaking instant, she grabbed his penis with both hands. Thrilled as she was by trying to imagine his organ actually going into her body where his tongue was now thrashing wildly, she wanted him to keep eating her like she had never wanted anything in her life. Her fingers closed around his petrified phallus and she began jerking with both hands, driving the handle down until the foreskin almost split, then yanking on it as if to rip out his cock by the roots. Faster and faster, her hands started flying, finding the natural rhythm for stroking the great club that supplied the impetus for the leech-like mouth that slobbered between her legs.
She was going to have an orgasm-she knew that now. Sobbing for joy as the pressure mounted in her body, Shelly beat his rod in her jerking frantic fists.
She half fell back, one hand flying to his hair and holding his gobbling mouth against her bursting quim, the other hand flying in blur up and down the length of his twitching steely penis.
"GAAAHHHHHH! JESUS! STEF I'M COMING APART! IT'S ALL COMING, COMING! COMEEEEEENNNNNGGG!" she wailed, arching her back, delirious with the waves of flowering joy that were washing through her body, dissolving her in a multi-colored sea of mysterious, bottomless ecstasy. She held to his prick like a lifeline, jerking it uncontrollably, suddenly wanting it, wanting him, wanting all of it, over and over, never stopping, going on for ever.
Stefan lifted his dripping besmeared face in time to witness her feminine fingers exhorting his penis with a last few desperate strokes, just before he grabbed for it himself, unable to bear the bursting compression that welled up in his balls, bloating every centimeter of his hot cock with a fiery burning tension.
"Don't stop, Shelly, don't stop!" he begged her, his hips suddenly lunging up, pushing his cock toward her body as her fingers tightened like steel bands around his granite phallus and gave a last glorious pull.
"OH-GOD! I'M COMING!" he grunted, driving a finger up into the molten cavity of her pulsing cunt as his penis suddenly jerked and disintegrated.
SPLACK!-Shelly felt the sizzling hot gob thunk against her breast. She rolled her eyes, just catching the awesome sight of Stefan's mighty cock recoiling again and again, the great domed head pulsing with spasming contractions that shot glob after glob of the white stuff-his sperm, his seed! she realized dazedly-against her naked skin like hot pellets of boiling cream.
Panting and heaving, they watched as the just-spitting ramrod deflated in her hand, limply sinking and collapsing to rubbery flaccidity, shrinking as she clasped it tightly, slowly pulling on it with her fingers, deliberately milking the last seed from his slackened balls, letting the warm primeval liquid run over her fist and down her wrist ... trying to imagine what it would have felt like had he gone off inside her like that-whether he wouldn't have ruptured her soft insides when his sperm, white-hot jizz, foamed into her vitals.
She pulled on his pliant organ, embracing him, their bodies coming together, the spunk smearing between them as their mouths met wetly. Shelly tasted the heady scent of her own cuntal cream in Stefan's mouth as they embraced each other and she knew, rejoicing in the knowledge and wrapping her arms and legs around his hard young athletic body, that though she was still technically a virgin, she had crossed the most important threshold of her life. She now knew the power of the human body, the incredible desire that could move herself, the savage force of the male eruption ... and the inevitability now, the fact that she would not long be able to resist the magnificent pleasures she had just tasted, that lay ahead of her in infinite variety and profusion once she completely surrendered her virgin body to the inspiration of pure sex.
CHAPTER TWO
Carla listened carefully, as if trying to sense what the rest of the house was like. It seemed empty, with Walt's father at work and the maid off for the day. He had a nice house. She hadn't known about the swimming pool. Funny that Walt never asked any of the kids over to swim. He was so freaky, she thought, watching him set up the projector.
"You better not be bullshitting me," she warned him. "I see enough home movies at our house, boy!"
"Don't worry," Walt grinned at her. "You haven't see anything like this." He threaded the small reel into the projector.
"Are they? ... I mean, is it really raunchy stuff?" Carla asked him, trying to imagine just what they would be like. Maybe she shouldn't be doing this after all.
"What'sa matter-going to chicken out if it's the real thing?" Walt responded.
He had a funny kind of sneer that put Carla off. But she was also attracted to him simply because he seemed like such a know-it-all. He acted like her brother, and her brother was three years older, in the middle of college. Heck, if he could watch movies like this at his fraternity, so could she. She'd had enough of his boasting and looking down at her like a kid sister.
"You sure you've seen this kind of thing before?" Walt quizzed her, suddenly unsure of himself-always guarding against any situation that might compromise him.
"Hell, yes!" Carla lied. "Come on, let's see it!"
"Okay, but I don't want you spreading it around!"
"I told you! No one'll know, I promise!"
"Okay," Walt shrugged. He walked across the den and flicked off the lights. Then he drew the blinds. He flicked on the projector and focused the countdown flickering on the screen, then flopped down on the roomy sofa next to the sexy girl.
"It's in color!" Carla gasped.
"Sure-whadja think, Charlie Chaplin flicks?" Walt replied.
Carla leaned forward, watching the screen in fascination. It showed a garden, with a swimming pool-that was weird, she thought.
Then a young woman in her mid-twenties appeared. She was dressed in bikini, a little heavy, but with a good figure, almost bursting out of the small two-piece suit. The camera followed her as she walked around the pool, her buttocks jiggling heavily in the cups of the bikini-panties. The camera stopped at the comer of the pool as the girl walked to the diving board and got up on it. She walked to the end of the diving board. But instead of going into the water she bounced on the board, jumping up and catching the board on an upstroke so that her whole body, particularly her large breasts, vibrated intensely.
Carla had done that herself-big deal, she thought! Then the young woman turned, facing the camera, and pushed the bikini-bottoms down, letting them fall to her ankles, revealing the hairy patch of her pubic adornment. Carla caught her breath, then let it out slowly, not wanting Walt to think that the mere nakedness of another woman could excite her, although in fact she loved the locker-room nakedness she and her cheerleader colleagues shared at school.
Now the woman was slowly bending her knees outward, hunkering down like an oriental sculpture with her legs making a diamond-shaped frame. Carla's eyes bugged out-what was that thing? Something coming out where her pussy was, emerging from under the hair! A trick? Carla chewed on one of her fingers, watching in consternation as the woman's vulva slowly extruded a cylinder between her thighs.
It must have been jammed up inside her, Carla figured-she must have had it inserted in her twat. It was maybe four, no six, god, it looked like eight inches long-as big around as a man's cock! How had she gotten it all inside her and walked around like that???
The woman reached between her legs. Smiling at the camera like a model in a hairspray or deodorant commercial, looking completely self-satisfied, she gripped the wet cylinder and pulled it completely out of her body. She held it up for the camera which zoomed in on the object. It was a slightly curved wooden-looking rough model of a masculine sex organ, Carla realized, like a masturbator, like a candle or something. Carla stared at the woman, wondering how in the world she had let herself be filmed like this, like being caught fingering yourself in the shower or something!
The woman sat down on the diving board, her back to the pool, her legs drawn up, knees apart. The camera moved around in front of her, looking down the matting on the board to the hairy effulgent grotto of her wantonly displayed cuntal rift. The woman smiled and leaned back, reclining on the board, just her bikini-capped breasts and chin visible between her thighs. Keeping the soles of her feet together, she lowered her knees. Incredibly loose, Carla thought, admiring how the woman could almost make her legs he parallel to the ground in spite of her feet being drawn up. What it enabled her to do was completely open her vulva, the exertion of the posture pulling open the labia as if with invisible fingers until Carla suddenly found herself looking as intimately into the woman's open sex as though she were a glossy photograph in some of those sex magazines she had seen. It was amazing. Her pussy was completely laid open. They could look right up into it, easily seeing the ragged hole which lurked in the shining wet recesses of the tear-shaped sexual abyss that yawned lasciviously for the camera.
Carla shivered, immediately angry that she had displayed any emotion in front of Walt who sat uncomfortably close to her. But she had never seen a woman's sex organs displayed so revealingly, so openly. The spectacle of the vivid cuntal anatomy which the screen portrayed five or six times larger than life stirred Carla with strange emotions. It was almost disgusting, but it also enthralled her, filling her with curiosity and anticipation of the next move.
The woman's next move was to hold the wooden banana-sized dowel up over her completely open pussy. Then she angled it, inserting the tapering tip right into the fleshy maw which gaped so nakedly and aggressively.
Carla's heart skipped a beat and started pounding heavily. She remembered when she had once been so horny that her finger wasn't enough. She had snuck downstairs and in a desperate kitchen search, rejecting various bottle-necks and utensils, she had taken a sausage from the refrigerator, a large, bratwurst, cold and clammy. In the furtive secrecy of her bed, her body burning with desire, she had warmed the sausage between her hands, and then between her breasts, and at last, when she could wait no longer, she had put it in her mouth, wetting and sucking it like a boy's penis. She had spread the lips of her vulva with the fingers of one hand and slowly exerted the still-chilly sausage in a downward stirring motion that gradually forced it into her vagina.
Just like the woman onscreen. Only her vagina was so widely stretched that she held the sausage-like dildo in both hands and pushed it slowly into herself, the camera catching every detail of the smaller inner hole retreating, then expanding, its uneven lips slowly parting, pried open, yielding to the penetrating pressure, gradually swallowing the wooden log that had been completely lodged in the vaginal passage to begin with.
Carla's ears were burning, as though the movie was of her, that night in bed, instead of the strange woman on the diving board. She could remember every impression of that night, how real the sausage had seemed as it became coated with her juices and she could work it in and out of herself. How exciting it had been to be able to control the rhythm of the debasing self-fucknot having to struggle with some boy who was going too fast or pooping out, but able to guide the sausage herself in just the tempo that most excited her straining pussy rims, and all the secret muscles and nerves therein.
She had thought that was all long behind her-for some reason she had never treated herself like that again. Sex was too easy to come by now. But the spectacle onscreen inspired that strange, lewd desire once more. The camera had moved right up between the woman's knees, the sides of the screen filled with her twitching inner thighs as it focused on the pair of hands and the wooden cylinder they were pushing in, and pulling out, of the sucking scarlet socket of female twat-treasure.
"You like that?" Walt spoke in a low, husky voice.
Carla tried to answer naturally, only to find that her throat was all choked up. She couldn't speak without clearing it. Her whole body suddenly felt congested, claustrophobic in the darkness. She nodded, staring at the wooden implement which rose and fell in the roseate chamber entrance like a pile-driver or battering ram, completely filling the cuntal chasm.
Carla stiffened when Walt's hand touched her. He was caressing her, no!-he was unbuttoning the back of her blouse. She tried to shrug him away, but his fingers climbed up, expertly plucking open each button. "Hey!" she said thickly.
"Hey yourself! Be cool, Carla, whatdya think-I'm going to rape you?"
"Well, rub my back, then," she said, trying to concentrate on the screen but submitting to the need to have a male hand-even Walt's-make contact with her hot skin. His fingers crept up, button by button.
The woman onscreen was stuffing the wooden dowel into her vagina now, pushing against the butt end of it with the heel of her hand until it was all the way into her, then pushing with her fingertips until the iris of her pussy orifice suddenly reappeared and closed over the sunken, completely swallowed, tool. Carla blinked, unbelieving, trying to digest the fact that she was once again confronted with the utter naked hole-within-a-hole of the woman's genitals-that somehow the woman had absorbed all of the implement. She remembered being unable to get more than a couple of inches of the sausage inside her that night, despite that fact that the boys who screwed her were much longer than that.
She realized her blouse was all the way open, that Walt's hand was massaging her bare back. It felt so good. For some reason she had never thought of Walt as being capable of caressing a girl in an arousing way, but his fingers were like feathers on her back.
"Ohmigod!" Carla gasped, raising both hands to her mouth in semi-shock. She flashed on a film she had once seen of a human birth-the female genital abyss pulsing and dilating. Just like this full-color twat onscreen. Only as the cuntal aperture stretched and enlarged, the wooden butt that slowly emerged resembled a turd being forced out of the vaginal canal. No, now it was coming out, emerging inch by inch-the woman must be forcing it out with her muscles, Carla realized, suddenly conscious of a fluttering feeling in the hollow of her own body. She tried to imagine the muscle control it would take to be able to gradually expel a wooden thing like that in the rhythmic way the woman was doing. It was like looking at what it felt like when a boy entered you-in reverse! Inch by inch of the round shaft emerging from the straining vaginal doughnut.
"Zat turn you on, Carla?" Walt said in the darkness, simultaneously popping open the clasp of her brassiere so that the blouse and bra fell from her body down around her arms.
"Wowww!" Carla murmured, so strung out by the movie that she couldn't find the motivation to stop Walt. She had promised herself to, but what-the-shit?? She could practically feel that thing coming out of her own cunt, it felt so hollow all of a sudden. How could she resist Walt's hand moving across her back, circling and caressing her spine, her shoulders, the nape of her neck. She shrugged-disappointed in herself, but hot, too, and let the blouse and bra fall to the floor.
"There you go!" Walt said approvingly.
The wooden dildo was just hanging out of the woman's vagina by the tip, its gleaming length draped between her buttocks where they curved together to form her rectal crease.
Walt moved behind Carla on the couch. Before she knew it he was sitting behind her, his legs to either side of her. And his hands were snaking around her sides, teasing the bare skin of her belly, then moving up, gently cupping her naked breasts.
"Obhhhhh," Carla sighed, hating herself for giving in to Walt whom she had always felt slightly contemptuous for being such a weirdo. But the feel of his hands gripping her breasts, his thumbs toying with her stiffening nipples, was irresistible. Carla wanted Walt to feel the lushness, the heat, and the weight of her breasts and she stiffened her back, thrusting the cones into his hands.
The young woman on the diving board was edging back now, the wooden pole still hanging out between her legs like a forgotten cock. The camera was moving around to the side of the pool, watching as she edged off it and let herself hang down, until she was suspended by her knees from the end of the board, her hair hanging down toward the water, her breasts settling in heavy upside-down blobs, the wooden phallic finger extending out like an erection from the constant clutch of her invisible vaginal muscles.
Walt was runing his hands up and down her body, making her squirm with involuntary desire, setting her body tingling, flushed with the preliminary excitement that warned of impending lust. But she didn't want him to stop, she couldn't push his hands away when they swooped to her pants and began to unfasten her fly.
Whoooosh! Up out of the water popped a naked bronzed male figure, grabbing for the diving board, hauling himself up out of the water, sleekly dripping, muscled magnificence, slowly letting himself back down, lowering his dripping, drooping penis to the young woman's upturned, open, expectant mouth.
Carla felt a vague sense of embarrassment. Was Walt watching? He was the kind of boy that the girls all agreed probably day-dreamed about getting someone to go down on him. Did he expect her to suck him off? He was opening her pants, pushing his fingers down, tunnelling through the matted mass of her pubic hair.
The woman in the film had caught the naked phallus between her lips. The camera zoomed in, catching every detail of the workings of her jaws, the swallowing motions in her throat, the blatant act of sucking stimulation she was administering to the water-borne man whose legs were spread wide to accommodate her head.
And he was responding. That was obvious. The limp cock was growing in her mouth, spreading her lips to a wider oval, making her crane her jaws to keep the head lodged in her wanton embrace. The muscles in Carla's cheeks fluttered, remembering-vividly-the urgent bulk of the masculine sex organ driving relentlessly into her own mouth, thrusting at her throat, hands gripping her head, the cock rammed into her mouth inch by inch until she was gagging but still sucking, still pulling at it, knowing it was the strangest, most intense pleasure she could give a boy, yielding up her mouth as a receptacle for his driving lust.
Just like the man onscreen. He was swinging back and forth, causing them both to swing from the end of the diving board, his cock pushing up into her head, she miraculously absorbing its lunges as her back arched and she swung up under the board. He held on to the end of the board with both hands, his naked beautiful body bucking and lunging, the buttocks tightening, the stomach rippling as he pushed his long stiff cock up into the upside-down O of the woman's mouth.
Carla bent over almost unconsciously and helped Walt to push her pants and panties off. She was totally absorbed in the film, hardly aware that Walt was half-naked as she settled back against him, half-reclining, seeing out of the bottom of her vision his hands snake across her belly and over the hairy hump of her pubis, energetically foraging in the ripe damp of her young but notorious cunt.
"Look!" she gasped. The man had taken the wooden dildo in his shining white teeth and with bobbing head, was driving in and pulling it out of the woman's naked sex. She had never imagined anything like it: a sixty-nine with the woman hanging upside-down, blowing a man while she herself was being fucked by a fake cock held in his teeth-like a dog, Carla thought, like a dog!
Walt had hooked his finger in the slushy furrow of her twat. He was revolving it round and round, massaging the noose of muscles at her pussy portal, sending thrills of erotic longing through her body as she tried to imagine herself hanging from the diving board, the wooden dildo stabbing into her body, churning like a great pesde in the seething pulpy tissues of her genitals.
Carla felt something hard and stiff pushing at the small of her back. Walt's hard-on! she flashed. She groped under herself, burrowing into his half-opened clothes, her fingers finding the rigid mass of his erect penis, gripping it, slowly, tantalizingly pulling on it, deliberately coaxing him to wilder manipulations of her sex organs with his thrashing jerking finger.
It was like a dream, the strange film of oral intercourse, the body underneath her, the hard penis underneath her, Walt's finger ravaging the cream pie of her pussy ... Carla spread her legs wide and groaned with pleasure, knowing it would all happen, that she wanted it too, that her body demanded satisfaction. She looked down, seeing by the light of the film Walt's hand flying from breast to breast, squeezing and pinching, his other hand only partially visible as it pushed into the hot honeypot between her gaping thighs.
No!!! she thought. The film had run out. The leader had slipped through the projector and was going slat-slat-slat-slat, running free.
Walt struggled to get up.
"No!" Carla demanded, twisting her body, pushing him down, straddling his surprised body with her knees, pulling his pants down, wanting to see his manhood, the darkly looming column of horny flesh that sprouted from his crotch.
"Hey, lemme up!" Walt protested.
"Fuck the projector!" Carla retorted, wriggling up over his crotch, her loins hungering to be filled with the delicious spike of real manhood. She reached under herself and spread the wet lips of her vagina, grabbing his long spiny penis at the same time and yanking it up, sinking down so that the hot hollow of her body seized its blunt pulsing tip.
Slat-slat-slat-slat-slat: the projector ran on unattended. A bizarre reflected light from the empty screen illumined their coupling, the sweat beginning to glisten on their bodies as Walt suddenly forgot everything and reacted to the wild touch of her cunt on his penis by lunging up, driving the curving shaft of his need into the resinous passage that enveloped it like a wet, velvet hand.
Carla leaned back, bowing her back, throwing her head back, pulling at the very base of the stalk of his sex with her cunt, bending it almost to the breaking point, reveling in the pressure of his stony flesh against the pussy lump that arched over the crack in her body. She wiggled back and forth, holding him captive in the unnatural angle, letting the granite base of his cock strain against the friction-thrilled pleasure centers that surmounted the rift between her straining thighs.
"Oh-god, uh, jesus, you're gonna break it off!" Walt stammered, sitting up and reaching for the carnal beauty of the classmate who was making no secret of her animal appetites.
He seized her viciously by the breasts and dragged her up over him, forcing her to kneel over him, to ease the ache in the root of his cock. Then he locked his arms around her, feeling the hot darts of her nipples skate against his chest, but best of all, able now to slide his long cock at will up in and out of the jellying channel that took him far into her struggling passion-wracked body.
How many times had he imagined himself fucking Carla? Ripping off that sweater and that mickey-mouse skirt. Right in front of the bleachers, in front of the jocks, ripping the scarlet panties from her little buns and spreading her legs, splitting her body with his demanding cock, just like he was now.
"Unh! Ohhh! Annh! Unnh! God! Oh my god! Oh it feels so good! Oh! Ohhhh! Oh god, ohhhh!"
Carla writhed and panted with lust, locked in his embrace, her body fired by the skewering strokes of his penis that felt like a white-hot sword raking the vulnerable pulsating passage of her sex.
Walt suddenly gave a great heave, rolling them both off the couch, cushioning the fall to the floor, hardly missing a beat as he fell on top of her, rivetting her succulent buttocks to the floor by stabbing his cock into her belly to the very hilt.
"Oh fuck, yes, oh give it to me, all of it, fuck me, fuck me!" Carla demanded, throwing her legs around Walt's body, her hips jerking uncontrollably as his cockhead scoured the end of her elastic inflamed vaginal socket.
Walt was elated by her clamoring command, by the unmistakable frenzy of her hips and thighs buffeting and gripping his body. He began to screw her in long undulating thrusts that started in his toes, put the strength of his wiry legs behind the motion that drove his cock deep into the liquid softness of her twat, clenching his buttocks and drawing up as he withdrew, pushing down with his stomach, burnishing the hidden bud of her clitoris with the flat ramp of his phallus until she was scratching and pummeling him, her head rolling back and forth wildly, the muscles in her young cunt clutching at his pistoning penis. He was fucking her, miss big time cheerleader, one of the sexiest chicks at Bundy, football fucker, and he, Walt, was giving it to her on the floor.
The fact of the conquest made him almost berserk with lust and pride. He knew from the way her body was responding to his that she had been dying for an expert fuck, for a fuck that melted every nerve in her body, a cock that reamed every centimeter of her desperate, greedy, molten cuntal maw. In and out, round and round, whipsawing, bloating and pulling at the spasming glove in Carla's knotted belly.
"AHH! AHHH! AHHH! AHHH!" Carla gasped, convulsed in the throes of orgasmic explosion triggered by the ravaging thrusts of the cock smashing in and out of her steaming cylindrical sex cavity.
Spurred on by her cries of lustful climax and the whipping sound of the slapping film, Walt rose up on his hands and toes and buried his penis one last time in the glorious gorge of her miasmic vaginal meat, mashing his cockhead into the center of her body as the storm of volcanic sperm erupted from his throbbing balls and spewed out into Carla's feverish form, a white-hot torrent lashing them both into the final spastic embrace of mutual climax and youthful animal abandon.
CHAPTER THREE
"What's keeping Shelly?" Gene Shoat asked his wife, Margie, trying to conceal the anxiety in his voice. "Here," he grabbed Don Peters' glass, "lemme give that a little freshening!"
"That your daughter-Shelly?" Peters asked.
"Yeah, she's our only kid, but she's quite a girl!" Gene said. He had to stop himself. One of Gene Shoat's failings was his readiness to get off on the subject of his daughter-and stay on it to the exclusion of everything else.
"Lessee, I guess someone down at the station told me about her," Peters mused. "She's a young girl, isn't she?"
"Sixteen, only sixteen," Gene said, never ceasing to marvel at the swift passage of time.
"Now that's an age!" Peters chuckled. He glanced up and seeing that Mrs. Shoat was out of earshot, leaned over in Gene's direction. "That's the age when they really start to get interesting!" He grinned broadly as Shoat handed him the refilled drink, and winked.
"Uh, yeh, yeah! Hah-hah! You can say that again!" Gene laughed nervously. The way Peters was looking made him uncomfortable. But maybe he was too sensitive. Jesus, he didn't want to come off like an old puritannical fart!
"Hi everybody!"
"Shelly, baby! Come over here..
"Someone's been at the make-up!"
"Oh mom! You said it was special..
"Come over here, baby, and meet Mr. Peters. This is Shelly, Don...."
"Helllo! This the sixteen-year old you were telling me about? She looks more like twenty-two or so. My pleasure, Miss Shoat!"
Shelly giggled as Peters took her proffered hand and without warning, the first time any man had ever done so-raised it to his lips and kissed it in homage.
"Hi! Gee ... thanks, nice to meetcha!"
"Gene, can you give me a hand turning the roast!" Margie Shoat called from the kitchen. Smiling obsequiously, Mr. Shoat gestured to his daughter to help herself to a soft drink and keep their guest company as he backed out of the room.
"He certainly is a smooth type," his wife commented as he wrestled the roast out of the oven and turned it
"Yeah," he grunted, "a real city-slicker!"
"Did he say anything one way or the other?" she whispered.
"Shit no, I can't tell if he's playing games, or maybe, he doesn't even talk business when he's socializing!" Gene Shoat bit his Up and furrowed his brow. If Peters didn't come through with that contract, the station was in big trouble. And so was he. Things were so tight that if they didn't get the ad package for Peters' motel complex, the station would be up the creek for revenues. Not to mention his personal bonus. Boy, if he didn't land the contract-the biggest possibility to come along since he had taken over sales-and didn't get that bonus, he'd be up shit creek without a paddle too. He wished he hadn't bragged about the deal before it was confirmed. It wasn't a matter of just becoming a laughing-stock. No one was laughing these days down at the station. If he didn't land the Peters' contract and get his bonus there was going to be a lot of belt-tightening all round! Gene Shoat felt tired. All his life he'd been a super-salesman. Now he was getting over the hill. Wife, family, good house, new car, planned vacation-all the security he had built up still rode on whether or not he could close the deal. It wasn't fair; he was getting too goddamed old to have to worry like a rookie sales ace about every big deal. But without the big deals he was just another paper-pusher, going broke like everybody else for the past couple of years. He was tired of pitching, of flattering, of waiting on younger men to decide, to sign, to fall into line. But he had to go on. Sometimes he thought of quitting, of chucking it all in, taking a back seat, getting out of the rat-race and working for a few more years at some relaxful job, just to build up solid retirement benefits and have enough dough to put Shelly through college. He saw himself free, like a boat bobbing on the water. Except that the great sails hung down heavily, flapping, weighing on him-the mortgages, debt, time-payments and the rest. Becalmed, mired in financial obligation. No good. He had to get up steam, fill the sails, drive on, drive on.
"Hi-hey! Where're you going? We're eating pretty quick now."
"I'm trying to persuade her to show off her cheerleading talents!" Peters grinned. "I understand she's one of the tops in her school!"
"Oh, yeh, that's right!" Shoat confirmed. He looked proudly at Shelly, his eyes dissolving the elegant gown she had dressed herself in for supper and replacing it with the colorful costume of her high school cheerleader's charms. He didn't respond to the silent message of intercession his daughter was trying to enlist him for. He didn't see that she really didn't want to show off.
"You got time, sugar," he nodded. "Whyn't you whip up and change and give Mr. Peters a little exhibition. Hah-you should hear what the kids chant these days. Sure doesn't remind me of anything we used to think about on the old gridiron!"
"So I understand!" Peters nodded. "I've been trying to get her over her modesty but I guess when you're used to whole stadiums-full of people it's a little hard to get worked up over an audience of one."
"Shoot, sugar! You've been teasing Mr. Peters. Get on upstairs now and change into that costume!...."
"Oh, daddy!...."
"C'mon, stop playing that hard-to-get stuff with your old man. Cmon! On the double!" Mr. Shoat shooed Shelly out of the room with a prompter's impatience.
He turned to the bar to hide his embarrassment. He knew full well how sexy she looked in that skimpy costume-hadn't he almost forbidden her to be a cheerleader because of that outfit they wore??? But he also knew that if the sight of her going through her paces didn't get Peters off the back-burner, nothing would. Hell of a thing to think about your own daughter. But shit!-if he wasn't such an expert about human psychology, they wouldn't be sitting around eating roast, much less have the dough to finance the cheerleading with its costumes and all that was so important to Shelly. He poured another stiff drink. Interesting?-hell! Shelly was a knock-out in that outfit! Reminded him of Marge when they were kids and used to go swimming in nothing but their undies. Marge had had the same ripe alluring body then that Shelly had bloomed with now. He went into the kitchen to warn Marge not to make a scene when Shelly came downstairs. She never had gotten used to the immodesty of the cheerleading bit and he didn't want any family squabbling deflating Peters' enjoyment.
Shelly unzipped the back of the long dress and hauled it up over her bosom and head, shaking her blonde hair free when she had it off. For a minute she thought she was angry, annoyed at having to get out of the outfit she had taken so much care to display herself in-hadn't Mr. Peters thought she looked several years older than she was? And now she had to get into her outfit and parade around downstairs.
But that wasn't what really bothered her. Shelly looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. The naked length of her tawny virginal body, punctuated by the bulging cups of the white bra that held her breasts captive, and the dainty triangle of white panty fabric that hugged her hips and flattened belly. That's what Mr. Peters had been looking at she knew. Looking right through her dress as if she hadn't been wearing it, his large dark eyes studying her body, evaluating it, gazing upon it like the kids who sat around the field when she and the other girls practiced, waiting for a glimpse of female flesh as they went through calisthenics and drills.
He had looked at her, talked to her, treated her like he was really interested in her. Not like an older man, like her father's friends; or with that guilty interest that older shopkeepers and other men tried to hide in her presence. He was right up front with it, communicating an almost-discomforting intimacy to her. Boy, if he didn't have bedroom eyes, she didn't have two tits!
But didn't it feel good? It did! Maybe it would be different if he weren't so good-looking, so young-looking. He might even be forty, but he sure came on a lot younger. He liked her-even better, he desired her. That was it! He looked at her the way Stefan looked at her. Warm dark eyes that praised her beauty, admired her golden hair, surveyed the contours of her body with candid covetousness.
Shelly ran a hand over the soft shallow of her belly. She was getting to be woman enough to respond to a man like that, especially when he was so groovy-looking. It was so dumb-all the high-school riding around and dating. Who was interested in impressing boys? She had a man, a real man, practically eating out of her hand. And it felt good. It felt wonderful. She was sexy, built to be looked at, made to be admired by suave men. Why not!
Steady boy, Peters admonished himself when Shelly reappeared, a vision of sylph-like girlish sensuality that almost made him drop his drink. Fantastic! He'd just travelled back and forth across the country and no nightclub girl, no stripper, no topless dancer, no showgirl he had seen was as lovely as this blonde daughter of this tired old prick. What a piece. What a honey!
Shelly blushed, feeling almost naked in the boots, short skirt and sweater. But she tossed her hair over her shoulders, letting her breasts jut out proudly, lifting her knees high as she strutted around the room in front of her father and his super friend.
Gimme a B
Cause we're free! She rustled the pom-poms overhead, feeling her breasts stretch into conical mounds.
Gimme a U
Cause we're new! She swooped from the waist, legs wide apart, almost trailing her mane of hair on the floor as her upper body described a full circle and straightened up.
A big N
From our friends! She swooped the other way, finishing up with a backward arching motion that pulled her miniskirt up and actually bared the scarlet-banded bulge of her feminine pubis.
A D
For you and me. ... She kicked one boot high up into the air, shoulderheight, showing another flash of her scarlet-satin crotch.
A Y For victory!
She kicked with the other leg, toe pointed, smooth golden flesh of her inner thigh rippling with muscled firmness.
Peters smiled at Gene, at his wife, and at the beautiful girl parading in front of him. He strained to keep his face composed in a mask of interested attention, trying not to stare at the agitating limbs which flashed only a few feet away from him.
His fingers curled around the glass he was holding. He all too easily imagined the firm flesh of her thigh, the young resilient meat-silky soft skin, smoothly muscled, lithe column of sensitive girlish flesh, hot to the touch, exciting in the hollow that was emphasized when she raised her legs. It was all he could do not to look directly at the upper exposed inner flank of her thigh, the parabolic surface between the tendons that almost revealed a crescent peek at her crotch under the straight tight legband of her panties.
Those underpants! Scarlet, bulls-eye bright, conspicuous target under the absurd gesture of a skirt which barely covered her buttocks or crotch. Peters gulped from his drink, shutting his eyes for a moment, imagining the delicious moistly perforated hump that bulged underneath the triangle taper of the tempting torrid underwear.
Jesus, what a body! Peters fought with himself, fighting to hold back the stirrings of his penis in his lap that seemed to sense the dancing nubile body parading before it. He couldn't remember when he'd seen such a perfect body. Even the showgirls, regularly exercised like dogs on a runway, went a little soft from drink and luxury. He had gone through three of them in his last stay at Vegas, yearning for just the angelically firm but lush body that was now being shown off for him.
He nodded his head in time to her adolescent exhortatory chants, smiling thin-lipped, trying to look a little bored, trying to conceal his excitement ... Virgin! ... Virgin was all he could think of. Did she lay for her football heroes? Her high school friends? Did they have the privilege of stripping that tight sweater off her, of pushing the shiny panties down over the tempting globes of her little fanny, of pushing her naked slender body down, spreading the creamy thighs, those innocent athletic thighs soft with sensual promise, joining together in the intimacy of her sex ... and she must be blonde there too! Her quim small and delicate, naked and vulnerable beneath a scanty transparent tufting of golden curls....
Yayyyyyyy BUNDY!
Peters' eyes nearly popped out when Shelly finished up her performance with a high jump, nearly touching her heels to her head as she arched her back in mid-air and momentarily levitated the fiery burnished apex of her body before his face.
He took another pull at his drink, registering the anxiety on Mrs. Shoat's face out of the comer of his eye. Then he turned to the husband.
"That's really something!" He winked at the girl, whose forehead glistened with perspiration. "You really got talent, Shelly, no kidding! You ever think of dancing professionally?"
"N-no, do you think I could?" Shelly panted, her breast heaving, flushed with pride that he had really paid attention to her, was complimenting her, obviously commending her beauty and physical abilities.
"Could you? Do ants climb trees!"
"Hah-hah!" Gene Shoat laughed ostentatiously.
They gathered around the dining table. Shelly lapsed into modest silence, turning down her eyes as the older man looked fondly across the table at her.
Margie Shoat busied herself with serving and clucking. She disapproved of the whole exhibition, much less her daughter coming to table in that outfit. Her husband was in high spirits. He had picked up on Peters' change of attitude, his admiration of his daughter, and he was determined to make every use of it to seal the advertising contract that had to be landed. And it was going to happen-his old sixth sense told him that.
"You haven't got a pool?" Peters was saying in disbelief. "You sure have a swimmer's muscles. Must be all those exercises, huh? You train pretty hard for cheerleading? I never realized it was such a big thing. Back in our day it was just a couple of water-carriers in letter sweaters, huh Gene?"
Shoat smiled uncomfortably. Back in his high school days he had been just that-a water boy for the team; it still rankled him.
"Tell you what!" Peters said brightly. "You come down to the hotel this weekend. Use the pool as my guest. No no, I mean it. Anytime."
"Maybe you could visit with a friend, dear," Mrs. Shoat said, casting an I-don't-want-her-in-strange places-unchaperoned look at her husband.
"Hell, Marge, she'll make new friends down there. You always do around a pool, huh Don?"
"Yep. I've done half my business poolside."
"And the other half over the bar!"
"Ha-ha-ha! You could be right. Whataya say, Shelly, come down and have a swim on me?"
"Sure-I'd love to! Thanks!" Shelly responded, picking up her fork and trying to eat ... not at all hungry as she sat there, opposite the darkly handsome man who acted so warmly, so admiringly, toward her.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Saferest Hotel had been fashioned around a large old hunting lodge left over from the early part of the century. Until recently it had been almost completely boarded up, one small wing leased by a local hunting club for their lodge meetings. Then Saferest had come along and refurbished it, built a modern complex of new rooms and restaurants, enlarged the pool, constructed tennis courts and a golf course and opened the old lodge as hotel and nightclub showroom.
It wasn't the kind of place the townspeople would ordinarily go to-hence the difficulty Gene Shoat was having in selling advertising time on the local station to the Saferest management. As far as Shelly knew, none of her friends had ever been there, although some of their fathers had participated in various business and marketing conventions held in the complex.
She had debated half the morning whether or not to take someone like Jennifer with her for the security of companionship. But at last she had decided just to go.
"Sugar," her father had said, "be sure to thank Mr. Peters, and behave yourself!"
For some reason that had really annoyed her. "Whadya think-I'm gonna pee in his pool?"
"Hey now, you watch your mouth, miss. You aren't so big yet you can't be-turned over my knee and be reminded about manners!"
"Oh, daddy!!!"
"Okay, but listen, if Mr. Peters should want to do anything for you like take you to dinner, be nice to him, sugar. We need his business-it's important to all of us."
"Okay, tell mom so long, see you later!"
* * *
"Whaddya mean, drop you down at the bus station. You taking a trip?"
"Oh, sort of," Shelly replied, hanging her head out the window of Walt's car and letting the wind stream through her blonde hair.
"Jesus Christ! Here I give you a lift and all of a sudden you got big secrets."
"As far as you're concerned, my life is a secret!" Shelly said defiantly, grinning at the boy. Would he flip if he knew where she was going, and who had invited her! Later for kids like Walt! She was going to enjoy herself in the adult world!
* * *
"Mr. Peters," the intercom from the office called. "Young girl name of Shelly Shoat down here asking for you. Says you invited her to swim. Looks like a minor."
"Give her one of my passes. And listen, put one of the boys-tell Manx)-to show her around; have him at her beck and call; anything she wants, sign it to me. Give her the run of the place and never mind about that minor shit."
"Yes sir," the desk replied.
* * *
It was like a dream. Like being in Honolulu or something, instead of just a few miles from town. Shelly immediately forgot the man at the desk and the suspicious way he had questioned her. The dark-skinned boy in white linen named Marco had come to her side and guided her to the cabana. And all afternoon, he seemed to be everywhere, thrusting menus at her when she climbed out of the pool, waiting on her hand and foot, encouraging her to order food and drinks-what would Daddy say!-as if she were a princess on a vacation cruise-ship. He seemed to be her personal servant, and everything in the opulent complex seemed to be at her disposal. It was heaven.
Shelly swam and sunned herself. She played a game of tennis with a young man who played in the nightclub orchestra. She had a mid-afternoon lunch of cold crabmeat and sparkling wine. Then took another swim, conscious of the attention focused on her by the older women and their potbellied husbands arrayed around the pool.
She sunned some more, submitting to the unbelievable luxury of having suntan lotion applied to her bare unstrapped back by a female pool attendant.
She smoked English cigarettes which Marco had picked out for her. She nibbled at oysters and stuffed olives which came around on a silver cart, served to her by a waiter in formal dress. And after giggling consultation with Marco, she reclined in the late afternoon sun with her very first martini! Wrinkling up her face, nearly gagging, then getting used-with the narcotic help of the cigarette taste-to the stinging shock of the alcohol etching down into her insides.
She met a young girl, hardly older than herself, who had just flown in from England with her parents, one vacation to another. Shelly froze up at first but then discovered that by vaguely pretending to belong to someone registered at the hotel, that the girl readily assumed she was also a member of jet-set society. They talked about clothing and horses and jewelry-or rather the other girl did, Shelly hazarding an occasional muted opinion and thinking all the time how close real life was coming to her dreams, how near she was to luxury and high life, how open it seemed now that she had accidentally come through the doors.
After the girl departed she closed her eyes and thought for a long time how good it would be to always spend her days in the sun-not prancing around like a jack-in-the-box in her high school cheerleading games, but surrounded by comfort as she was now, the atmosphere of the Riviera, Acapulco, the South Pacific. And she had Marco bring her a second martini, luxuriating in the ticklish numbness it imparted throughout her warm prostrate body.
* * *
Don Peters kept an eye on her from his tinted-windowed office above the pool. He watched her for a long time as she swam, standing with hard, throbbing erection as she raised her hands to the sky, stretching her bikinied body to the fullest and then bounded off the diving board in a golden arc to the blue water below.
She swam like a dolphin, plunging below the surface and doubling up her arms and legs frog-like to propel herself underwater. He imagined her in bed, on her back, drawing up her legs that way. No bikini bottom interfering with her nakedness, but instead her young tufted vulva splitting open, smiling vertically for him.
He saw how she wriggled and giggled when the attendant rubbed her down with suntan oil, and he longed to substitute himself, to slide his hands over the shining flesh of her back, running his fingers in the elegant groove of her spine, itching to burrow under her bikini panties and probe the wet warm furrow of the rift between her rounded buttocks.
He noticed how his guests regarded her: the women frowning out of jealousy at her youth and beauty, the old men reaching to their big-bellied crotches, readjusting their ageing pricks which stirred as they watched her walk round the pool, thighs flashing, breasts jiggling heavily in the hammock of the bikini, her shimmering hair streaming wetly down her back like an otter's.
It was chancy. He'd almost blown it in Miami for the same reasons. Unable to stifle his desire for the young daughter of a man who turned out to be a major stockholder; discovered by her sister as they rolled together on the deserted sunroof, his body mad for her, his hands reaching underneath her, fingers molding the lovely melons of her buttocks, spreading them, the tips pushing toward the rearward juncture of her hair-rimmed treasure.
So here he was, transferred several thousand miles away. A huge success. Virtually put together this Saferest by himself and doing a land office business. He hadn't been there more than a week when he had taken on a young chambermaid as his mistress. The young, he couldn't resist the young.
He had been walking around the corridors, inspecting the final touches of decoration. The open door. Donna bending over, tucking in a bed. Her short maid's skirt raised up to reveal the twin creases where her black-stockinged thighs bloomed out into buttocks. He had slipped into the room, softly closing the door, silently unfastening his pants, taking out his instantly rockhard penis, holding it in his fist, coming right up behind her as she bent forward, legs spread, smoothing the sheet on the bed, her skirt riding up over her protruding buns.
Ripping her panties down with one hand to mid-thigh, he had rammed forward, locking his prick between her thighs in the bushy crease of her sex organs, falling on top of her, pinning her to the bed. Holding her head down in the mattress as she screamed muffled shrieks of alarm. Then extracting a one-hundred dollar bill and slowly letting her raise her head, holding it in front of her eyes as he lifted some of the weight of his body, sliding his cock back until its blunt cherry-red aching head was nestling at an upward angle in the hairy furrow of her vulva.
She had craned her head around, wide-eyed, studying his face, accepting the money, relaxing beneath him, pushing her buttocks up under his groin, allowing his penis to push and spread the lips of her vagina, to force itself into the hot, tight, irritatingly dry socket of her sex.
God, how good she was! He vividly remembered that first time. Her dress up around her armpits, his hands holding her by the waist as on her hands and knees she rocked back and forth, worming the resinous sheath of her slime-warm pussy up and down the pulsing length of his rigid screwing organ. Throwing his head back, kneeling straight up, his buttocks aching with the ferocity of his thrusts as he bludgeoned his way in and out of her, reveling in the slap of his loins against her rotating churning buttocks. He recalled her fingers twisting handfulls of sheet as her arms spread out. Her head tossing. Strange guttural cries of pleasure rattling up from her throat as she scoured her heavy breasts against the palms of his hands. Their bodies thumping together. Her cunt practically tearing the head of his penis off in frenzied lust as his balls exploded and he dumped his hot load of sperm into the cavity that winked up at him around the glistening base of his cock.
Donna came today, as she always did, naked beneath her uniform, eager for the little perversions that lightened his afternoons and weighted her paycheck. But he sent her away, sight unseen, too involved with watching out the window, watching Shelly innocently gambol in her heady new surroundings. He knew just from watching her how effective the martinis were, how they had slowed her hitherto perfect coordination, causing her to drop a cigarette, to forget, as she rolled over, that her bikini-bra was unfastened, and thus nearly dropping it and giving him his first glimpse of the lush bosom that his hands and lips itched to have laid bare.
It was chancy, but there was no way around it. He wouldn't be sane until he had had her. He knew the pattern full well. Knew that if he didn't seize this opportunity, and the implied safeguard of her father's dependence on him, he'd go crazy from bottled-up lust. He had to at least have her naked before him, so that he could memorize and feast upon every detail of her voluptuous unnawed loveliness, to own her with his eyes if not with her body.
He looked down late in the afternoon and smiled to himself. She was fishing for the olive in the martini, awkwardly spilling the dregs of the cocktail on her bosom. His heartbeat quickened as she brushed away the liquid with her hand, poking a finger between her breasts to fish out a small shard of ice which was melting down into the trough between her hemispherical captive mammaries.
She was lying on the lounger like a young starlet-o-nthe make, one knee drawn up, her foot on the other knee. He saw the old codger in the next chair, hiding behind his sunglasses, undoubtedly fixated by the thin band of bikini that curved down between her tawny thighs-the only thing that protected the fascinating fissure of her teenaged twat from intruding eyes, or fingers, or more!
Peters leaned against the window-sill, deliberately pressing his erect cock against the ledge, feeling a dewdrop of seminal fluid rise from the swollen glans and stain his shorts. He could imagine how it would beher naivete, her protests, her submission. Or maybe not. Maybe she really was as worldly and whorish as her posture suggested. Maybe she'd come crawling toward him, her ruby mouth open, her lips wet and soft, eager to give him head, to take his masculine need in the sacred chamber of her mouth, to enslave herself on the lance of his lust and suck the storm from his balls which he could feel gathering even now.
Thanks, Gene, he thought. Thanks for this present. Wasn't it worth it to drop a few thou down the rat hole of local radio if it bought him protection when, with a virgin's fresh outrage, or with a social climber's malice, this spring chicken ran home holding onto the hot cunt in which Don Peters now fully intended to bury his itching, iron-shafted, fantasy-feeding phallus.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Mom? Mr. Peters has asked me to stay for dinner out here, okay? ... Oh, it's beautiful, I've been swimming and meeting people and having a really super time! ... Yes, he asked me to. No, he did ... well ask him then...."
Shelly winked at Peters, cradling the phone between her cheek and shoulder. She looked at her reflection in the window, admiring the sexiness of her legs almost naked beneath the abbreviated toga-type dress Peters had helped her pick out in the hotel gift shop. She'd never worn anything quite so daring before and even now she self-consciously carried her shoulders slightly forward to minimize the brazen spectacle of her cleavage that the deep V-cut in the front of the dress revealed. She had hesitated in the dressing room upon discovering that it was either her bra or the dress-she couldn't wear both. But the dress had been too beautiful, too challenging. She had left her bra hanging on the hook and stepped out into the aura of his warm, flattering smiles.
"He said yes? Goody! Listen, mom, if it gets real late-because I'm going to see the show after dinner-I might spend the night here...."
Peters nodded shrewdly from across the room, approving her performance.
"Ahhhh! Listen! We've got our own room and everything....We? Oh, I mean, uh, Jennifer and me. Yeah, she came along to swim too. Yes, she already got permission-Mr. Peters gave us a room, like, we're his guests ... well maybe I will be home tonight but I just wanted to let you know ... listen, they're lots of kids here, Jenny 'n I aren't the only ones, it's like a party, like a big party ... okay, uh-huh, okay, see you later, bye-bye, bye!"
Shelly spun around, grinning wickedly in embarrassment at the he she'd trapped herself into. "Boy, think fast! Everything's cool!"
"Who's Jennifer?" Peters asked.
"She's a friend of mine, we're in cheerleading together. I had to-didn't you hear me slip, I said we!!"
"Good girl," Peters nodded. He crossed the room toward her, all he could do to hold himself back, to keep from ripping off the minidress which separated her succulent breasts in two soft shrouds, which barely covered her tuffet. Instead he put his arm around her shoulder.
"I'm glad you can stay, even if you did have to bull a little."
"Oh, I'm so glad too!" breathed Shelly. "I wish I didn't even have to go back to town! It's so beautiful here. And you're so nice, and the dress and the shoes and the earrings-it's all so beautiful!"
"I'm glad you like it." Wait, he told himself, hold on, boy. But he couldn't, couldn't resist the temptation to tighten his arm around her, to pull her to him. She was so soft, so pliant. Bowing her head against his chest, filling his nostrils with the scent of her blond hair. The warmth of her body-hot animal temperature of a wild young creature. He could feel the bulge of her ripe breasts press against his diaphragm, her thigh slide against his pants leg. He slid his other arm around her, not saying a word, drawing her close, pleasantly surprised at the way she molded her body to his, sinking against him with erotic intimacy.
It was so strange to feel his body, Shelly thought. Daddy was one thing-old and paunchy, like a familiar, friendly bear. But Peters had the leanness, the hardness of Stefan, tough like the young men who hitherto had comprised her tactile experience. Strangely exciting! That he should have bought her the clothes and stuff. Obviously he liked her. But what really flipped her out was how much she liked him. Even if he was older. She felt so close to him, like the way they both laughed at things. Like, age didn't seem important as she had always been told it was. Here she was in the arms of an older man, and he was so sexy! She half-wished Jennifer were here with her, so she could see them together and show the approval Shelly vaguely felt a need for. And envy her-because she would too!
Peters was good-looking enough to be in the movies. He reminded her of Peter O'Toole, or maybe Omar Sharif. Tall and lean and handsome. And he made her feel so much older.
She sighed and leaned against him, letting her pelvis tilt forward just below his crotch. What a gas if she could really have a lover, a man to take her away, to take her around the world, clothe her expensively so that everywhere she went, people would stare at her the way they did when they came through the hotel from the gift shop.
Shelly felt Peters breathing, his arms tightening around her back. She laid her face against his chest as he pressed their bodies together. She still felt tiddly from the afternoon martinis. And she felt hot-the prickly sensation she got when she and Stefan, or someone else, made out. Would she make out with Peters? Wouldn't she! If she had the nerve. She wondered how an older man kissed, the difference experience made. Would he be gentle and seductive, making her melt the way she was right now. Maybe she shouldn't be doing this. She shut her eyes, bothered by a vision of her father seeing the two of them embracing. What did Peters want from her? Did he really want her?
With a heavy throb of her heart, Shelly realized her question was being answered. She became aware of the wooden mass of something pressing against her belly, like a club, like a ... migod! she thought. It was Peters' penis, erect beneath his pants, stealthily arisen, now bulging against her body. Now that she was conscious of it! ... She began to paint a mental picture of what her body felt-the inset of his crotch that her thigh was fitted against. Yes, and the soft weight of his balls-she could detect them behind his trousers, lurking there. Then the long thing-as long as Stefan's-maybe longer, hard and rigid, pressing against her, more intensely toward the top, above her navel, the mass of its head conspicuous to her now. She imagined it all, the long rod rising and wedged between them both, the urgent masculine hard-on, hard for her, he was hot for her.
She leaned back and looked up at his face. His eyes were dark, clouded, heavy with desire. Neither one of them said a word. The girl and the man, three times as old as she was, stared into one another's eyes, riveted together by the chemistry of their bodies that had locked their loins tightly to a fleshy fit of desire. Shelly lowered her eyes under Peters' intense gaze and stared at his necktie. It was true. He did want her. And what was more, it excited her. Not in the flirtatious way like when he had been at the house and ogled her in her cheerleader's outfit. But really seriously. Her body was responding to his, stimulated by the sensation of his imperious rod laid against her body.
She shivered in excitement and hugged herself close to him again, imagining for a moment that his prick was thrusting even further up, sliding between her breasts, its granite bulk ploughing into the velvet softness of her body. Hesitantly, she slid her arms around his waist, placing her hands on his back, feeling the maleness of his body, aligning her own directly against his form. Unsure of herself, wondering why she was embracing him, but wanting to, reveling in the directness of the thrills that she was receiving from him. So different from making out in the darkness, in the car. Here, in broad light, like a woman, she was being made love to, clung to. With Stefan it was sheer excitement that made her hot. But now, with Peters, she had a rarer feeling, of being wanted, of being possessed in spite of the fact that they were only embracing. Shelly remembered the scenes in war movies where the couples said goodbye, holding to one another fiercely, not moving, not showing emotion, but locked together as if all the emotions of their fives were flowing back and forth between each other.
"We better get down to supper," Don said huskily, feeling a certain exhaustion from the mere promise of the young girl's body which was snuggled so erotically against him.
"Ooooooo, it feels so good, I don't want to," Shelly pouted.
Peters hugged her more tightly to him, making her aware of his male strength as the breath was slowly pressed out of her body. She lifted her head back and turned up her face for him, shutting her eyes innocently, the beautiful features of her teenaged countenance imploring him with angelic selfishness. He bent his head and brushed her lips with his, causing her to gasp and nearly fall backward.
"Hey, hey! Easy! What'll we tell your family if you come home with a bump on the head?"
"I'll tell 'em you snuck up behind me and hit me and then dragged me off and raped me," Shelly laughed.
Peters went stiff, the potential reality in her humor a little too direct for him.
"Or, I could say I dove too deep in the pool."
"Yeah, that might go over a little better with your folks."
Shelly was looking at his crotch, at the prominent lump his erection made. He looked at her and knew what she was looking at, but he couldn't read her mind about it. Shelly realized that she knew that he knew that she knew his condition and was suddenly possessed with an unnatural curiosity.
"Why did you buy me this dress?" she asked.
"Because you look good enough to eat in it!" he answered her, reaching down immodestly and moving his rigid penis to a less outrageous position and closing his jacket.
Shelly blushed, not so much at seeing him arrange himself as at hearing the verb which symbolized the profoundest depth of sex she had so far plumbed in her virgin status.
"No, c'mon, really, why??"
Peters walked swiftly toward her and without warning dropped to his knees before her. She looked down startled as he pushed the skirt up around her waist, baring her lovely hips and the triangle of silken panty that cupped her tufted vestal vulva.
"Ohhh!" she gasped as Peters' head came forward. Before she knew what had happened, his hands had slid up the backs of her thighs. His fingers were under her panties, caressing her buttocks. And his mouth was at her crotch, his hot breath melting her secret feminine treasure, his lips working against the fabric of her panties, his tongue pushing boldly at the target of her shrouded sex that puffed out against his face.
"Ohhhhhhh! Olmhhhhh! Oh! Don! Don!" she whispered, instinctively knotting her hands in his hair, thrusting her abdomen forward in delirious reaction to the startling obscene homage he was paying to the pit of her body. She wanted to spread her thighs, jacknife her legs open and sink down on his ravenous, electrifying mouth, to abandon her genital jewel to his lips and tongue.
But just as quickly he had detached himself, slipping his hands out of her pants, screwing a last kiss against the moist warmth of her panty-clad pussy, and standing up before her. She looked at him with wide, newly wise eyes. He winked at her and straightened his tie.
"Believe me?" He sounded smug and he was. It was a trick he had used with devastating effect on the showgirls down in Vegas. Most of them were inclined to be sexy anyway so it always bowled them over to be presented with this oral promise of mixed reward and restraint.
Shelly's jaw gradually closed. She looked down, wondering if she had just imagined what he had just done to her-he had almost eaten her right through her underwear. Underneath the brief skirt she felt slightly wet, like when she came home after a heavy make-out, her pants soaked from the effusions of her frustrated sex parts.
"Didja like that?" Peters asked her.
She nodded. "It, I, it-it felt so good!" She felt so foolish. What did you say after a grown man had gone down on you like that?
"C'mon, let's get some chow," Peters said, opening the door.
Shelly tried to make her legs move, but they wouldn't-they were still immobilized by the hot stamp of his intimate kiss.
"Cmon. Hey, you know it's much better when you make love on a full stomach."
She blinked at him, digesting the implicit promise in his words, realizing that they had the whole night, that she was free to do what she wanted, to stay with him, with a man who wanted to kiss her twat as much as someone else might kiss her hand. Her hand?
She extended her hand. He looked at her seriously, then winked and dropped to one knee. He took her hand and pressed his lips gently against her fingers. She nearly fainted with excitement. He was so suave. She was so lucky. What a trip. A fantastic trip, she thought as arm in arm, every woman and girl in the hotel regarding her with suspicion or envy or both, they proceeded to supper.
CHAPTER SIX
It was past midnight. They were in Peters' office, Shelly's head buzzing happily from the long evening of alcohol and excitement in the hotel showroom and lounges. She watched Peters attending to the nightly shutdown of the hotel, checking on things here and there by telephone. All night a wondrous sense of the inexorable had been building inside her. From time to time she had snapped awake, her conscience jabbing her, her common sense telling her that it was all just good fun, a novelty, a trip. But these warning messages were submerged again and again by the fever that increased within her, the thrilling indulgence in what she knew was an illicit progression leading her from the illegality of public drinking to the challenge of the female impulses Peters had been skilfuUy courting and rousing since late in the afternoon.
"All shut down?" she asked as Peters replaced the phone and smiled at her.
"Yep, everything quiet, except for our secret room. All the bunnies in their hutches."
"All except me," Shelly smiled coyly. "What are you going to do about me?"
Peters licked his lips, his eyes heavy with the sight of her, tousled blonde hair, long gleaming legs, the promise of her delicate breasts and flaring hips beneath the sexy dress he had installed her in.
He beckoned her to approach him. Shelly complied, not really knowing what was supposed to happen but feeling that the inevitable moment, the threshold she had been anticipating all evening, was now at hand. She crossed the room to him quickly, grateful that he was taking the initiative, sparing her the embarrassment of being revealed for the innocent and unworldly teenager she knew herself to be.
She came up to Peters and stood between his legs, facing him as he sat on the edge of his desk. She was breathing heavily, her eyes luminous with apprehension and awareness of what she was doing, presenting herself to him. They looked at each other in silence, the girl and the man, sizing each other up again, completing the contract begun the day before, wordlessly divining each other's desire and readiness.
Don reached out and slipped his fingers under the two straps which the deeply slit dress made over her shoulders. He pulled them out and over her shoulders, slowly easing them down her arms which hung at her sides. Shelly stood motionless, her rummy fluttering, as she felt the two halves of the front of the dress peel away from her breasts. She didn't look down but stared into his eyes, discerning in them the bright reflection of her own young bosom as he laid her bare to the waist, leaving her standing only in the skirt-the split top of the dress hanging limply down. She saw him swallow heavily and knew that he was just like Stefan, entranced and excited by the sight of her naked breasts. It was so different to be exposed to a man like this, especially an older man. She shivered almost imperceptibly as his eyes travelled up and down, devouring the beauty of her naked upper body, the hollows of her collarbones, the swell of her body from her narrow waist, the twin pendant glories of her pert boobs which she knew, from the goosepimply sensations running through her, were probably contracting at their nut-brown nippled ends. She was being inspected, looked over, admired, approved by this man who had obviously seen and had so many women and yet was so doting and respectful toward her. She felt terribly naked and wished he would embrace her and spare her this deliriously ambivalent torture of being transfixed like a statue on a pedestal.
"You're so lovely, Shelly," Peters murmured. "Such beautiful breasts, such a beautiful body!"
"Do you like looking at me?" she asked in a flirtatious tone.
"I could look at you like this all week," he answered. "But that's not all I want to do."
Shelly put her hands on his thighs, feeling them tense under her palms, conscious of the power in his legs power that would be directed at her young and vulnerably body.
"Don, I-I've got to tell you something-"
"You want to bail out?" he asked her rather sharply, too inspired by his growing lust to pretend subtlety any longer.
"No, no, not that," she shook her head, running her fingertips up and down the tops of his thighs and looking down now at her naked torso, swelling with the bare buttery mounds of her breasts. "You've been wonderful, it's all so wonderful, I wish I could stay here forever. But...."
"But???"
"I don't know how to say it!" she half-laughed, hanging her head in shame. "I should have told you before, I guess."
"You've got a boyfriend," he fished.
"No, well, yeah, I do, I mean that isn't, that hasn't got anything to do with it." Or does it, she thought, thinking of Stefan, of the times he had begged and pleaded with her to accept the consequences of their intimacies and yield herself to him.
"You got v.d.?" he asked her, his voice hard with incredulity, his face crestfallen at the thought that the prize so nearly his was about to be snatched away by medical considerations.
"No, no," Shelly insisted. She was so frustrated! She couldn't stand this inadvertent guessing game.
"Your period?" he demanded.
"No!" she shook her head. She seized his hands and jerked them to her, making him take the warm soft globes of her breasts, frantic for physical contact, to replace the immodesty of nakedness with the sinfulness of actual lovemaking.
"Well, what's the problem? We going to sit here all night?"
Shelly kept shaking her head. Her eyes were moist with tears. She liked Don so much. She wanted so much to stay with him, to live in this enchanting world of fine clothes, the rich, the leisured, the cultivated, heady drinks and sumptuous food.
His fingers were automatically closing on her breasts, beginning to knead and caress the pliant sensitive flesh. She could feel the specter of lust rising within her body like the quicksilver telltale in a thermometer.
"I ... I, I'm a virgin, oh god, I'm sorry, Don, but I am, I really am!" With a sob she fell forward against his seated form, hiding her honey-haired head in the folds of his suit jacket.
Peters was struck dumb for a moment. Not by her grief and confusion-he had gone through too many mistresses and their emotional tangents to be affected by that. No, he was smitten by his good luck, incredulous at his good fortune, amazed that in this day and age when virgins were rarer than declarations of war, this sweet young pussy had stumbled into his life. Not only was she a virgin, she was ashamed of it. No struggle here, he knew, no near-rape which always carried so much danger of legal and physical vengeance, but a psychological case, a trauma, her virginity an awkward burden which he, expert deflowerer of the female sex, would be only too happy to relieve her of. He recognized her performance for what it was-an appeal to him to take the crushing weight of her purity off her shoulders, to assume complete responsibility for her surrender of that fragile badge which precipitated so much distress in the female soul. And he delighted in the invitation. He knew just how to handle this kind of callow little cunt.
He slipped an arm around her bare back, leaving his other hand on the sumptuous swell of her quaking breast. Nuzzling her hair, he ran his fingers up and down the long groove in her back, getting his rocks even harder under the guise of soothing her.
"That's why I want you," he whispered in machiavellian fashion. "Because you are a virgin, Shelly, such a beautiful, fresh virgin."
"Y-you knew?" she croaked in a quavering voice, lifting her tear-stained face up to look at him.
"Of course," he assured her. "I knew that you were, and that you didn't want to be at the same time. That's why I knew we were going to enjoy each other so much-because you want to know what I'm going to teach you, and I want you to learn."
"Oh will you? Will you?" she implored him.
"Will I what?" he suddenly changed tunes, reveling in the debasement to which she was unconsciously submitting in her almost adolescent anguish.
"Teach me, teach me about sex," she whispered feverishly, holding up her glistening face as he wiped away her tears with a monogrammed handkerchief.
It was all he could do to check himself from whipping out his cock and beating her with it. It was so hard, so terrifically aroused by the pageant of her sexiness and innocence combined. But at the same time he wanted to prolong and savor the drama of her submission.
"Do you want to learn to fuck?" he leered down at her.
Shelly nodded. Yes, she did, she wanted to end her captivity, her isolation, her scaredness.
"And suck-have you ever sucked a man's cock?" He assailed her with the vile suggestion and she recoiled momentarily, imagining herself doing what Carla used to talk so vividly about in the locker room.
"No," she mumbled.
"No??" Peters said, surprised. "And you're still a virgin?? I can't believe you don't have lots of boyfriends who're itching to get into your pants. How do you satisfy them?"
Shelly colored violently, recalling her first bold experiment in sexual reciprocity-her frantic manipulation of Stefan's surging cock, the way it had exploded in her hands, shooting his climactic gobs of sperm at her as she gripped it like a bat handle.
Peters' hand had tunneled under the waistband of her panties by now and his fingers were exploring the crescent crack which plunged between the tense spheres of her rubbery behind. Instinctively Shelly clenched her buttocks together, trying to trap his probing finger before it began to hook down into the rearward seam of her secret genital juncture. But she couldn't escape the digit which remorselessly came up like a torrid tendril between the mossy apex of her thighs, laying itself along the furry rift which protected her much-hounded hymen.
With his other hand he lifted her face up by the chin, not so much to look at her as to further admire the perfection of her firm breasts.
"Do you want it, Shelly?" he asked her rhetorically.
"Do you want me to fuck you here, tonight?" He looked her straight in the eye, until she had to drop her gaze. His finger moved restlessly, insinuatingly in the hot groove, inciting her to remember how much she loved pressure against her pussy, the insistent pushing that came from riding, from bicycling, from Stefan's hands masturbating her, from a hard thigh pushed between hers at a dance.
"Tell me you want it," Peters dictated. "That you want me to take your cherry, want me to fuck you, to make you a woman."
"Yes," she sighed, squirming languidly atop the finger that threatened to bore right up into her insides and actually penetrate her intimate slot before his penis could perform the duty she heard herself agree to. "Yessss," she breathed. "Fuck me, Don, please! Fuck me, I want you to fuck me, I'll do anything you say."
Peters beamed at her, glowing with the knowledge that the liquor and environment had set her up so perfectly. With a deft motion of the hand that was lodged deep inside her pants, he separated her dry labial lips and drove a fingertip right up into the resinous knot of her vestal treasure, making her eyes grow wide with surprise and her breath puff in an excited gasp.
"Undo my pants," he commanded, stopping just short of raping her with his finger, leaving her tiptoeing atop his fingertip, as finely taut and tense as a string wound to the breaking point.
"Ohhh!" Shelly gasped, fearful of the pain that any movement toward disengagement might bring her from his finger which she could feel actually lodged in her body's crevice. She glanced into his eyes. They were glittering, imperious, demanding. She was suddenly flushed with the urgency of the passions that had been simmering all evening in her.
Inexpertly and embarrassedly, she fumbled with his belt and fly, undoing his pants as he looked down in pleasure at the sight of her delicate fingers undressing him. When she had them undone, he lifted himself up from the desk and allowed her to pull them down.
"The shorts too. Pull 'em right off. I want you to see my cock, to get to know it before it goes into your pussy!"
Her ears burning at the lewdness of his language, Shelly struggled to free his shorts of the massive upright erection contained within them, finally working the waistband over the stiffened penis and sliding the shorts down, her heart skipping a beat at the spectacle of the curving stony rod rearing upward from the dark shield of his groin and the bristling sac of his testicles which seemed to spill out below.
Peters withdrew his finger from her vulva, his hand from her pants and quickly shucked off his upper clothing as she untied his shoes and slipped them off together with his socks. Then he was naked, seated on the desk, his penis an angry red column rising up past his navel, throbbing before her wide, nervous eyes.
"Take your clothes off," he instructed her.
Standing in front of him she pulled the dress up over her head.
"No, leave them on," he said as she began to slip off her shoes. "Take your panties off."
She shivered and hooking her thumbs in the waistband of the last garment left on her body, slid the silken triangle down, revealing the dark blonde swatch of pubic hair which tufted her aggressively mounded pubis. She bent over, stepping out of the panties, conscious of his eyes on her breasts as they hung pointedly down from her naked body. Then she straightened up, a portrait of voluptuous sexual femininity, clad only in the high-heeled shoes he had purchased for her earlier.
"Come on up here!" he directed her, taking her hands and helping her up atop the desk, placing her feet to either side of his lap and pulling her down into a hunkering position over his penis.
Shelly felt confused. She had expected him to take her to bed, to seduce her slowly and sensuously. Instead she was crouching on his desk, her brain befuddled, fearfully aware of the bluntly domed scarlet penis which loomed up under the tremulous petals of her exposed crescent sex.
Peters reclined on his elbows, luxuriating in the sight of the naked girl squatting over his pulsating cock, studying the succulent hair-rimmed lips of her vulva which had parted slightly in her crouch.
"Beautiful, beautiful!" he exulted, beaming at her and drawing an uncertain smile from the apprehensive object of his erotic designs.
"Stay right there," he ordered. He made a fist with the fingers of one hand around his penis and pushed it up so that the tumescent tight ball of foreskin skated against the hot soft tissue of her virginal cuntal lips.
"Oooooo!" Shelly squealed, gripping his hips to keep her balance, wanting to raise up away from the intimate contact but electrified by the friction of his cockhead going back and forth at her silken labia.
"You like that? My cock feel good?" he asked her, stirring the bulbous head around and around, spreading the spongy hair-lined lips.
"Yessss, oh, it's too much, I can't stand it!" she panted. It was too heavy, the delicious friction of his ballooning glossy foreskin against the sacrosanct skin of her genital divide. She looked down, past her pink-flushed breasts-the nipples unmistakably erect and turgid-down to the obscene pestle dance his penis was performing against the mushening mortar of her vestal aperture.
Peters felt her crotch growing hotter. He could barely stand it himself. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain. At any second his cock might explode from the unbearable friction against her labia and it would all be over. He forced himself to concentrate. This was one of his favorite amusements and it was working now. Instead of having to grapple with the little bitch and pitch woo and bullshit, he relied on the contact of his cockhead against the most sensitive area of her body, the very flanges of the coveted target, to bring her physical passions to the boiling point.
"Ohhhhhh! ObMhhh, Don, I can't stand it. It's melting me, your cock is melting me!"
He smiled grotesquely, feeling, as she spoke, the first traces of moisture seep down from inside her straining cuntal cavity, anointing the fleshy lips and the tip of his penis as it -rimmed them and loosened them, parting them bit by bit, readying her body for the onslaught he craved.
He sighed between her golden thighs and saw that the golden brown pair of thick lips had indeed begun to part, revealing a trace of shining pink within, the satin pathway that would guide his aching prick to the hoarded membrane of her hymen-the cherry he had hardly expected in such an active, flirtatious girl.
"Ohhh! Ohhhh?? Ohhh! Ohhh, god! Ohhh! Ohhhh!"
Peters grinned at the sight of the girl rocking back and forth on her hands and knees, beginning to move her hips awkwardly to increase the friction between their sex organs as he steered his cock more pointedly between the shining narrows that were opening atop his manipulation.
"OHHH!" Shelly looked down at the source of the stabbing sensation, her blonde hair cascading to Peters' abdomen as she saw with startled eyes that the flanged and brutal-looking dome of his cock had actually insinuated itself between her glistening labia. She wondered why it felt so much more slippery then, like a hard nub of soap wedging into her body, and she realized that the flow of sex lubrication her body had produced before when she was making out or masturbating, had become an incredible flow of sopping wet, bathing her own sex parts and the slit-eyed crown of the penis working back and forth in the sopping hair-matted groove.
"Ohh! Don?? Don, will it hurt? Your-your cock is so big, so big. Try not to hurt me, please," she begged, feeling queasy about going through with her surrender, especially in so bizarre a manner, but unable to detach her gaping tingling sex parts from the divine pressure of Peters' insistent penis.
"It'll hurt," he told her, delighted by her fears. "It'll hurt plenty. But only for a little bit. It's all up to you, sweetheart. I'm ready when you are!"
"Ohhh!" Shelly gasped. It dawned on her that he was right, that his penis was hard and ready, terrible looking in its erect impatience. And her cunt was creaming now, whipped to a froth by the motions of his cock skewing wildly around in the oval of her labia which had spread to reveal the tight sheath of flaming pink tissue within. She was poised, in fact, on top of his engine. It awaited her below, anxious to receive the socket of her cunt. Her cunt! Up to this point she had only thought of it in textbook terms-the cutaway side view of the channel leading up into her body, conveniently hollow and curving, the outline of the male organ, an abstract space. All she had been really conscious of was the barrier of her "cherry"-the badge of her virginity which necessitated buying small things for her period. To Shelly, her cunt was really the shallow slippery shelter between her puffy lips, sealed off inside by her hymen. Now, her whole body restless and aflame from the intoxicating dance of Don's cockhead against her feral fissure, she realized that she really had that space inside her-the receptacle for his penis, something which, incredibly, could accommodate the long thick bludgeon which nuzzled her wetly. Or could it fit? Suppose he was too big for her? Too big to even get through into the inside of her, into the itching vacuum which made her belly crawl with feelings of lust that were almost nauseating in their intensity now.
Peters let go his penis and the head slipped from the jellying vise of her labia as she gasped in consternation. He folded his hands behind his head and lay back on his desk, his legs hanging over the edge, his cock aimed up and out between them.
"Unnnnnhhhh!" she protested, desperate with lust, grabbing for his granite-hard column, closing her fingers around it and jerking it upright again, moving her inner flanks over it until she could push the awful head back into the slushy mire of her vulva. But the touch of his glans against her channel made her wince with desire. She wanted it, she realized, she wanted his cock inside her. Now that the embers of her passion had become dangerous, sparks radiating out from her clamoring cunt, she wanted to feel it within her, stroking her, filling her, satisfying the terrible hunger that seemed to eat into the marrow of her pelvic hollow.
"Are you ready?" Peters asked, with the nonchalance of a carwash attendant.
"Yes, oh god, yes, I want it, Don, I want you so bad!"
"Is your cunt good and wet inside?" he taunted her.
She drove a finger up between the mons of her underthighs, spearing herself, testing the welcome her sex glands had prepared for the awesome coupling.
"Yes, god, it's all running out of me. Will I bleed a lot?" she wondered wildly.
"Don't worry about it. Ready to lose your cherry?"
"Yes! Yes!" she insisted. "I am! Really, I am! What do I do?"
"Do?" he echoed, smiling innocently at her. "Put my cock in your cunt, right up against your cunthole."
She nodded feverishly and tucked his prickhead up between the gelatinous sides of her seething abyss, feeling the pressure of his foreskin against the tiny-seeming hole of her virgin vagina.
"Bounce up and down a little, get used to the feel of it."
She jiggled on her heels, testing the resistance of her scared and sacred unsullied membrane atop the bulky cushion of his fiery phallus. "Feel good, huh?"
"Ohgodyes! Yes!" She was arching her back, lifting her head and breasts high in the air, the pink nipples dancing above him. With the fingers of one hand she was lewdly holding her cuntal chasm open while the fist of her other hand held tightly to the ramrod which was centered at the very bulls-eye of her sexual being.
"Want it?" he leered.
"Yes, yes, yes, ooooo!" Shelly moaned, her loins boiling, desperate for the promise of the first real coupling in her life.
Don grunted with satisfaction at the tightness with which her tiny cherry-laden cuntal perforation gripped him, and at the fantastically erotic sight of her shivering form hunching on top of him.
"C'mon then, fuck. Fuck!" he encouraged her.
"Oooooooo," Shelly wailed plaintively, twisting and turning above him, trying to screw the impossibly small socket of her straining vulva onto his club-like cock. Her high heels scraped on the desk top as she let go his penis and with both forefingers tried to pull the taut lips of her dripping slot more widely apart around the wedging mushroom of his glans.
"It won't go in, it's too big, I'm too small, it's too big, oh Don, it hurts, it hurts!" she chanted, half out of her head with the need to jam his cock inside her unsullied pit, yet simultaneously distraught with the pain shooting out from the center of her virgin canopy.
"Sit down on it!" he insisted, reaching out and pulling her ankles forward so that most of her weight unexpectedly transferred to the outraged membrane that denied him access to her succulent slit.
"Ohhhhhh!" she cried, shaking her head-her blond hair flying back and forth as her breasts heaved with the labored breathing of her exertions.
"Fuck yourself, fuck yourself!" he nearly shouted at her, maddened at the unbearable tantalizing contact of her virgin's shield on his cocktop.
"Ohhhh!" she mewed, stricken with the knowledge that it was really going to happen, that the bloated column spiking into her intimate cleft was really going to ravage her, to strip her of girlish pretensions and maiden modesty. All the times she had imagined ither lover bending over her, parting her body, slowly prying her open-it wasn't like that. Here she was poised on the cruel stake of his masculine power, screwing herself down toward the fatal cataclysm that would rip her belly open, the final violation, the almost unthinkable union of their bodies which she wanted, god how she wanted it, but it wouldn't happen. Her hymen seemed to be made of steel, to resist the combined force of their mutual lust.
"Ohhhhhh!" she groaned despairingly, feeling an ice pick pain flare in the center of her pelvic cradle.
"Now!" he shouted. "Fuck yourself, fuck my cock. Open up that virgin pussy!"
With a rough motion he pushed her knees almost 180 degrees apart. Shelly felt a splitting sensation as her abdomen angled open. Her whole quaking body remained poised for a split-second atop his prick. Then she heard a tearing sound in her bones. A bone-chilling rip. She gasped with the fierce pain that assaulted her.
"You're ripping me, ripping meeeeee!" she cried, fighting his hands as they kept her body upright, captive, unable to lift off from the agonizing, prolonged rupture of her splitting cunt.
"Yaaaoowwwwwww!" she yowled, her pussy a ring of white-hot pain as his penis bulled its way between the little noose of her inner labia. For a brief instant she struggled with him, trying to disengage from the awful torment that licked at her loins.
"C'mon!" Peters panted, holding onto her, grimacing as the untouched virgin channel inside her gradually opened and stretched to accommodate the trauma of his bucking penile pole. She was so tight! He'd never felt anything like it-not even in the little Mex whores that had been sold to him down in the border towns. Fantastic! He could feel each ripple of her slimy elastic cuntal sheath as his cock bored its way into her bleeding palpitating belly.
"Ohhhhhhh!" she groaned, reaching aimlessly between her legs to try and comfort herself and finding only the mahogany column of his organ where once there had been the unviolated soft mystery of her feminine treasure.
"OYVTVWWWWW!" she screamed as Peters pulled himself nearly out of her and she looked down in time to see the froth and crimson rivulets of her blood besmearing his terrible totem. Then it was driven back up inside her, stretching her little vaginal glove to the utmost, buffetting the furtive secret of her dewy cervix, grinding between her pelvic bones as he finished the ravaging of her tattered and torn hymen and took full advantage of her newly mined pleasure lode, forcing her down as her cunt grated open until with another scream of pain, her spongy throbbing pubis was nestled around the agonizingly large hilt of his cock.
"Oww! Oh it hurts so much, it hurts, Don, pleeease! Pleeeeeease!"
But he ignored her entreaties, his hips working laboriously as he struggled to skewer his penis in and out of her blood-flecked convulsing female wound, beginning the inexorable cycle of pumping, fucking lust.
"Ohhhhhh! Oh! Eeeeeeynuunnh! UUnnnh! Aaaa! Ahhhhhh! Ohhhh!" she huffed, dumbfounded at the sight of his enormous prick actually disappearing up inside her, and rapturous as the fearful pain began to subside, replaced by a scintillating glow that was fed by his pistoning cock as it began to awaken the dormant nerve tissues of her feminine recess.
"Ahh! ... Don! Don, you're fucking me, I can feel it!" she clamored ecstatically.
"That's right!" he panted. "Get moving, swing that little ass of yours! Shake that little cheerleader's fanny. C'mon, it takes two to fuck!"
Still wincing as his engine bludgeoned away the last tatters of her despoiled vestal gateway, Shelly began to ineptly wiggle her buttocks, groaning with each revelation of his cock angling and crashing inside her sweat shiny tummy. Then she caught his rhythm, biting her hp, desperate to occupy her mind with something other than the hideous impression of her hymen being ripped open, and slowly her lovely body began to milk his mighty member with the blood wet cylinder of her girlish twat.
"Ohhh, oh Don, god, oh! I can feel it inside me. You're filling me. Oh god, it feels good! It feels good! It feels so goooood!"
Peters leered at her, confident now-after the brief uncertainty of her panicked anguish-that she was going to take to cock like a duck to water. He pitched forward, picking her up and getting off the desk. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his butt as his feet found the floor, her tummy jerking wantonly against him as her whole being warmed to the strange marvel of heady copulation. With his fingers gouging her anal crack, feeling his own carnal cudgel jacking her pussy slot open, he turned around and laid her down on the desktop. Grinning at her wild thrashing-the result of her pleasure and fitful traces of pain as his penis carved her more fully open in this new position, he seized her ankles and lifted her legs up and over her body, pinning her feet to either side of her head. Now he could look down and study his corded cock plunging into the tight miasma of her inflamed tear-shaped pussy hole. Back and forth, in and out, spiralling to one side, then the other, he reamed her deliberately, carving open her cunt with such finality that it would never again impede his or anybody's entrance to the delicious hot mold within. Her crotch was turned up to him like the cavity of a stuffed goose. She rolled on the desk, bent double, as he pulled his cock out until her wounded slit began to curl closed over his glossy prickhead. Then he pushed in, parting the puffy red-orange chasm, delving into the pink bud within, re-opening it and sliding in all the way, feeling his long scimitar arc up into the yielding softness of her young body until his groin ground against the fleshy trap of her swallowing cunt, prying it open to the limit and driving involuntary gurgles of delight from her as she wriggled beneath him.
He picked up her legs and held them up in a wide mid-air split, almost envisioning the progress of his cock beneath the delightful dark blond beaver of her crotch as he drove it into her faster and faster, beginning a regular engine-driving rhythm of lust.
"Aaa, aaa, aaa, ohh, OWW! Aaa, aa, aa, yaahh, aaah!" she bleated each time his instrument scythed through the muck between her widespread golden thighs and speared into the cuntal jelly beneath her tawney belly. She was doing peculiar flips and flops with his every movement, her cunt leaping up and nipping at his surging phallus, gripping and sucking at him until the blood roared in his head and he fought to hold himself back, to keep his prick from exploding within her.
"Aaaa, aaaaa, yaa-yaa, yaaahhh! Oh Don, oh shit, it's coming, it's happening! Oh darling, oh sugar, I feel it, it's coming, it's coming!" Her head thrashed back and forth. Lost in a reverie of her approaching sexual initiation, she clutched at her own breasts with adolescent narcissism and chugged her hips up and down as the fire within her began to bloom with multi-hued visions of utter dissolution and divine carnal climax. "Don, Don, Don!" she canted. "Give it to me, fuck me, faster, sugar, faster, fuck me, fuck me, it feels so good, your cock's so big, so big, so good, so good, ohhhhhhhh! OHHHHH SHIT! Yes-yes-yes-yes! Aalyeeeee, aalyeeeee, oh, help, yaaaaaahhhhh! OHHHHHH-HHH!"
Her eyes opened and bulged as though they would fall out. Her body curved up, face twisted in a wild animal expression of blind captivity and intoxication as she clawed in his direction, then fell backward on the desk, her head rolling to one side, her body limply sagging as the spasms of relief rolled through her sweating form.
Peters hooked his arms under her knees and hauled her off the desk until only her shoulders were on it. Bending her body in a downward curve, he bent his knees and began a sudden vicious fucking that sent his cock knifing up into her, rasping between her thighs, scoring the top of her jagged cuntal orifice and deriving the ultimate satisfaction from the friction of his blood-filled cockhead against the stippled surface of her pulsing pussy sheath.
His balls swung to and fro, gathering their storm, feeding it up to the powerful muscles that clenched together at the base of his driving prick. With a last, sobbing lunge, he nearly lifted her in the air by the sheer exertion of his cock levering up into her cunt and then his nerves snapped.
"Yiiiii!" Shelly yelped, astounded at the thrill, the unexpected revelation, of his first sperm wad erupting against her uterine aperture. Then another, and more, scalding her insides, running out of her as his cock bucked and fucked in and out of her, the hot viscous sperm ebbing out of her channel and running in rivulets down the shiny globes of her buttocks as she reached down and wonderingly fingered his shrinking pumping male member-the spit that so hard and inflexible, had robbed her of her innocence and that now, spewing its passion load into her newly opened hair-lined funnel, demonstrated her newfound worldly knowledge and the unimagined capabilities of her will and body.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Boy, that's an outasight maneuver!"
"Shit, suppose we lose the game and the girls cop the cheerleading trophy. Man, will our ass be grass!"
"Hey, we wouldn't do that," Carla laughed. "After all, you guys come first. Whaddya think, we want to embarrass you?"
"We're not going to lose!" growled Ronnie. "And you guys better not come in second too!"
"That's right-both trophies!"
"Ain't it something? We have to kill ourselves to bring back the cup, and all these broads have to do is wiggle their asses a little to cop everyone's attention."
"Yeah? Well, without us, you'd be mighty lonely out there on the field, without anybody cheering for you, either."
"Just remember, though, it's the team that's important."
"No one said any different. You guys are the heroes. We're just happy to come along!"
"Anyway, we'll be watching you girls when we can. After all, we still got to decide who gets the jock-strap-of-the-year."
"Wha????"
"That's right-best cheerleader gets the team jockstrap."
"Far out, I want it."
"Ugh! Who wants a smelly jockstrap?"
"Oooo, I do, remember me, you guys!"
"Couldn't you give us all your jockstraps after the game. You won't be needing them any more."
"What're you gonna do with a couple of dozen jockstraps?"
"Listen, they're lots of girls who'd really give a lot for one."
"No shit! Hey, I'll give you mine!"
"I'm gonna cream in mine, then you can have it and auction it off to the highest bidder."
"Hey! Watch your mouth!"
"Un-unh! I'm too busy watching you when your skirt comes up!"
"Yeah, wouldn't you like to see what's underneath!"
"Wouldn't you like to see what's underneath?"
"!!!!"
"Boy, those guys are really getting foul," Jennifer commented as the cheerleading squad walked to the locker rooms.
"Ah, it's tension, they're really worried. Logan's really good, you know, and they outweigh us all around."
"Yeah, but their quarterbacks stink."
"Yeah, but they've got the weight. And they really play dirty. They get all kinds of penalties called against them, but by the time they're through, half the other team's laid out with sore nuts and cracked ribs."
"Hey, Shel, is something wrong. Like you were hardly getting off the ground today when we were practicing splits."
"Oh no, nothing," Shelly answered her friend self-consciously.
"You sure you didn't get into something out at the hotel?? I didn't really understand why I was supposed to pretend to be there anyway."
"What do you mean?" Shelly asked.
"You know what I mean," Jennifer replied, winking. "Like why you couldn't do your splits today."
"Oh, I...." Shelly didn't know what to say. It seemed like all day kids and the teachers had been looking at her, as if they knew what she had done, how she had been changed from a girl into a woman overnight during the weekend.
"Did you?" Jennifer asked curiously as they walked slowly to the regular after-school rendezvous at the Froster Monster drive-in.
"What?" Shelly stalled.
"Did you get screwed, Shel?"
"Oh! I, uh, I...."
"You did, didn't you. Wow, the first time, too. Did it hurt?"
There didn't seem to be any point keeping up pretenses with her oldest high school friend. Shelly turned to the other girl and saw the concern in her eyes. She felt strangely older, superior to Jenny, because so far as she knew, Jennifer was a virgin too.
"Well, yeah, some."
"Who was it-someone I know?"
"I don't think so."
"Someone from school?"
"No."
"No? Shell Someone older ... a man???"
Shelly looked down at the ground, remembering how she had begged Don Peters to fuck her, and how she had nearly passed out in the throes of her first glorious orgasm.
"Was it??? Was it a man, someone you met out there?"
"Listen, Jenny, you mustn't ever tell, really. Promise you won't say anything, because I don't even know if I should tell you."
"Oh yes, Shel, I won't, you should, I mean, I want to know, you can tell me. I was right, wasn't I? You're sore from screwing! Did it hurt a lot?"
"Yeah, it did," Shelly admitted, recalling the searing pain and the awful splitting sensation when her hymen had finally yielded and been torn asunder by Peters' powerful penis.
"Was it worth it?" Jennifer asked ingenuously.
"Yes, oh yes. I can still feel it. You have no idea-it, it was just fantastic once the pain stopped."
Jennifer looked at her with admiring eyes. She made out as much as Shelly ever had, but the same constraints had prevented her from going all the way. Fear, fear of pain, of being discovered, wanting to do it with someone who wouldn't abandon the field of conquest and go crowing around the town.
"Did you bleed a lot?"
"Like a stuck pig!" The two girls laughed.
"How come you're still sore?"
"He was so big, Jenn. I didn't think, I couldn't see how he was going to get it into me."
"Boy, you're not kidding. Some of these guys-it would be impossible. I mean, they're just too big for any girl. I can't even get a finger hardly inside my bird and when I think of some of their things!!!"
"But it works!" Shelly assured her friend. "I didn't think I could take it. It really hurt when he went in. I was so tight, and my cherry was so tough. Woww!!" She shook her head, remembering what it had taken to break the seal of her craven virginity. "But it went in, all the way. It felt like he was pushing it right through me, like my whole insides were caving in."
"But it was worth it?" Jennifer egged her on.
"Oh yes, oh it was so good. I thought I knew what it was to come from making out. Like Stefan's really sweet. He's brought me off lots of times. But it's just not the same. The real thing is so much different. You feel like you're flying, like you're melting, like your whole body's wrapped around the man's thing. It was incredible."
"Are you having an affair with this-this man?"
"I don't know," Shelly wondered. She turned to Jenny, "seeking understanding in the other girl's eyes. "To tell the truth, I thought it would be a lot easier after ... well, after losing my cherry. But I'm ten times hornier, I swear, I really am. It's all I've been thinking about."
"When are you going to see him?"
"Oh, I guess not till next weekend, if I do. I shouldn't, I mean, it's too dangerous. But Jenny, wow, you can't imagine. It was like being on a cloud. I keep trying to think about other things, but all I can picture is his prick inside me...."
"What???"
"I mean, you can see it going into you. In certain positions you can watch. It's fantastic. This thing," she made a gesture with both hands, indicating the size. "It pushes against you, and your twat opens up and the whole thing slides up inside you and it's so, so delicious! I don't know! Every time I think about it, I want it more."
"Well, what was all that about me being there."
"Oh, I had to fib to my parents to spend the night. Like, I made out that we were both there, so it was cool as far as they were concerned."
"Can I come with you if you go out this weekend?"
"Hmmmm?"
"I want to, Shel. I want to do it, too. I don't mean with your man. Don't get me wrong. But, really, I've been trying to get up my nerve for months now to just let go and let it happen. I'm so sick of all this jerking off and finger-fucking, you know? But all the kids, I mean, the team, they're like animals. I've been afraid they'd really rip me up."
"Maybe you better look for someone with a small cock," Shelly joked.
"Hah! Lots of those around. No, I'd want to do it with a real man, the real thing, only someone who knows what he's doing. Do you mind if I come along, too, Shel? Please say you don't. I'm so jealous."
"Don't be jealous. I can't even jump, in fact, I'm so stiff it's hard to walk."
"Boy, once, a few years ago, I tried to fuck myself with a bottle neck, you know? I got it just up inside me and diddled myself. It really felt good at the time, but afterwards-ooo! I was so stiff, I could hardly walk, either. I know what you mean, some, I mean. Hey, what about getting pregnant-aren't you worried?"
"No, Carla gave me some...."
"Wow! She must've brought back about fifty thousand pills with her. You too??? That's really far out. I've been taking them too."
"You have? But why?"
"Same reason you were. C'mon, Shel, we all know it's just a matter of time till we start fucking. Who wants to mess with all that other junk anyway."
"Really," Shelly agreed.
"Hey!" It was Walt, leaning out of his car as they walked into the giant parking lot of the drive-in. . "Hey yourself," Jenny replied.
"Hey, hey, hey-hey-hey, I wanna piece of ass today!" Walt taunted the two girls.
"Better go get it yourself then," Jenny said over her shoulder.
"Who you saving yourselves for? Big Ron the heero???" He blew his horn to punctuate the suggestion. The girls walked on, ignoring his lewd gestures.
"What's the story on Ronnie anyway?" Shelly asked her friend. "I guess I just assumed for years that he was going steady or something. Then it hit-he hardly goes out at all, I never hear about him from any of the kids, I mean, he seems sexless, you know?"
"It's weird," Jennifer agreed. "He's always so quiet and all around girls. D'you think he's a virgin too?"
"It wouldn't surprise me, not one bit!"
"If I could just get through to him, I'd really like to do it with him, the first time. I bet he'd be really good."
"He's strong as an ox."
"Wasn't your man strong?"
"Yes," Shelly admitted, "yes, he was, but I think Ronnie's even stronger."
"It's funny," Jennifer cocked her head. "I always figured you'd sleep with Stefan when you got around to it."
"So did I," Shelly agreed, "but it didn't work out that way. Anyway with older men, well, they really know what they're doing. You don't have all that fumbling and finger-picking, you know?"
"Your parents don't suspect anything?"
"Naw," Shelly shook her head. "Daddy's got some big sale down at the station. He's really happy-gonna get his bonus and everything. Now my mother-I don't know, she's acting strange like maybe she can see it in me. I've been trying to stay away from the house and all. I had to throw away my panties cause they were covered with blood and everything. I think she's worried-it's so hard for me to act natural when I walk because I'm so sore, you know?"
"Sure-listen, come on over for supper tonight, and you won't have to go home. And you can tell me all the gory details."
"But I did," Shelly smiled, bewildered.
"I know. But I want to hear them again. There's Tom, and he's got nooky in his eyes!"
"Okay, see you for supper!"
"Bye!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Anyone who had shared a shower with Ronnie knew his problem-which disqualified the girls at Bundy High. But only Walt appreciated Ronnie's dilemma and divined the reasons for his reticence with the opposite sex. Good old hardworking, ball-carrying, grade-grubbing Ronnie, Walt thought.
But he had it all planned out. Walt was on his way-not that it had been easy for him to get Ronnie to agree to come over to the house. Dumb and square as he was, Ronnie stuck close to the other football stars of Bundy and didn't like to mix with such "flits" as Walt. But all that was going to change because only he, Walt, knew what Ronnie really needed and how to get it for him.
He answered the door and grinned at Carla who was standing impatiently outside. "Hi baby!" he said brightly.
"Hi baby!" she sneered at him. Boy was he going to enjoy knocking her off her high horse. All the cheerleaders were the same: stuck up cunts.
"Come on in," he invited, forcing himself to act polite and natural.
"Well, where's the big surprise you told me about?" she demanded.
"Oh, it'll be here soon. Here, take a look at these. Want something to drink?"
"Sure-coke, anything. It's really hot out." Carla took the large brown envelope from Walt and watched him disappear out into the kitchen. She sat down, crossing her legs, letting her skirt ride up almost to her hips, and opened the envelope. Her hand flew to her mouth as she extracted the glossy photographs. For a second she thought she was imagining things. But no, it was her, unmistakably herself, pictures of her being fucked by Walt. Pictures of them fucking! He had taken pictures somehow.
"WALTERRRR! Goddam, you little shit!"
R-r-r-ripp! Tear. Rip-ri-i-i-pp! Walt walked into the room laughing at the sight of the furious girl tearing the prints to shreds.
"You bastard!" she shouted at him. "What were you going to do with these!! How did you take them?"
"Easy," he grinned. "Automatic camera. I think they're very nice of you. They show everything, specially your face, although I don't come out so well, do I?"
"Allright, you son-of-a-bitch! What's the idea?"
"Nuthin. I just wanted some insurance that you weren't gonna kiss and tell. I thought you might start hassling me about our little game the other day. And I just wanted to have something in reserve, like maybe to send to your brother. I'm sure his fraternity brothers would love to see them!"
"Bastard!" she hissed. "So you have more of them."
"I have the negatives, which is all I need," he nodded. "Here-whoops, wrong one, this is yours."
"They look the same," Carla spat, taking the cola he was offering to her. She was really worried about what Walt might do. He was kinda crazy, always up to some weird scheme. None of the kids trusted him, least of all her.
"That's really a dirty trick. Listen, I want those negatives. I suppose you want me to put out some more?"
"You're right," he winked. "But in a special way, and I wasn't so sure you'd cooperate."
"Listen, I'll do it. But you've got to promise to give those back. In fact, I want them now, before I do anything. This is blackmail."
"Oh, tough titty," Walt shrugged. "I'll give 'em to you afterwards, I promise. Or else you can have one of your big boys beat the shit out of me."
"That's not such a bad idea. But I'm serious. If we do it, will you turn them over. My brother would kill me, I mean it, if he ever saw any of those."
"Yeah, I will. Come on in here," he beckoned. Carla followed him, swigging the cola. It tasted kinda funny, maybe the ice was screwed up, she thought absently.
"Through?" Walt asked her, reaching for the glass.
"Wait." She drained the glass. "Sure tastes funny. Well, we're gonna get into bed and do it the real way, huh?"
Walt ignored her baiting, smiling inwardly at her innocent cooperation with his carefully laid plans. He sat down on the bed.
"Well?" Carla inquired.
"Take off your clothes," he suggested with a gleam in his eye.
"Everything?"
"Yeah, all of it."
Carla sighed and pulled her miniskirted jumper over her head. Slightly embarrassed by the obvious lust with which Walt was regarding her, she turned away and slipped out of her blouse. Then unstrapped her bra and rolled it off her shoulders, freeing her heavy breasts which gave off a pungent sweaty odor from the hot day-in spite of the fact that she had just showered after cheerleading drill at school. She kicked off her sandals and began to take off her panties.
"Hey, bend all the way over and look at me through your legs," Walt instructed her.
"Wha???"
"You're supposed to be Umber and all. Bend all the way over and take your pants off real slow," he requested.
"Jesus, Walt, you're gonna turn out to be a real pervert, you know it?"
"Whaddya mean, I already am!" he boasted, devouring the sight of the plump buttocks being exposed to him as Carla leaned over and rolled her panties off the twin hemispheres of her buttocks. The crack between her cheeks was a dark musky brown, trailing down to the hair-clotted fissure of her reddish cuntal lips that pursed and pouted at him from between the backs of her naked thighs as she touched her head nearly to the floor and pulled the panties down. He had a satanic vision of leaping on her while she was on all fours like a dog, slamming his prick into her and clutching at the heavy melons of her dusky breasts which sagged upside-down in soft sensuous bags. But he had better plans for her.
"Hey, can I get up now. I feel funny-I think all the blood's going to my head."
"Yeah, come up on the bed here and spread yourself out."
The act that Walt had put her through had excited Carla mildly. She always got turned on at least as much from the sight of her own body as from anything any male did to her or on her. And she felt that way now-lightheaded and lascivious, a funny itching feeling developing in her loins as she stretched out on the bed, hands and feet spread to the four comers of the big mattress.
"Just relax now, I'm gonna tie you up," Walt said.
"What the fuck?? The hell you are!!" she said indignantly, looking over the large hummocks of her marshmallow breasts at him.
"That's right, I am, and you're going to love it," he affirmed.
"I am?? Well, you better not get carried away. You better not hurt me, I'm warning you."
"Don't sweat it, I just want you to be ready for the big surprise."
"Yeah?" she inquired, watching him expertly bind her ankles to the bedposts with old neckties. "What've you got for me-a dog in the back yard?"
"Better than that!" he smiled, tying one wrist up and out to the side.
"Hey! That hurts, you're stretching me!" she protested, trying to jerk her free arm out of his hands.
"C'mon now, Carla, don't be a sissy."
"Ow!" she squealed as he pulled her arm half out of its socket and quickly trussed her wrist to the fourth bedpost. He straightened up and looked down at her, noting the obvious strain in her tendons where her arms and thighs were split from her body and secured in opposite directions. Then he took a pillow and pinching her buttock to make her writhe into the air, shoved it under her backside so that her hairy pubic mound was thrust into the air like a swarthy knoll above her reddish cunt. He moved around to the foot of the bed, admiring the cleft between her legs which gaped open, exposing the raw pink of her vaginal tissue and the complex detail of her naked sex organs.
"Let's go," she said, lifting her head with great effort in an attempt to look at him over the sloping bowl of her belly which rose to her pubic summit.
"Aren't you gonna take off your clothes even?" she demanded in a cracking voice.
"How come? Do you want it?" Walt leered, examining every naked detail of his unwitting victim.
"Yes, dammit, yes, let's go!" Carla was a bit unnerved. She wasn't just saying it. She really did want it. Her cunt suddenly itched unbearably, maybe from being spread apart so unnaturally, exposed to the cool air.
"But I'm not that turned on," he lied. In fact, his cock was hard as bronze in his pants at the sight of her spread-eagled cunt-upturned figure prostrated on the bed. How many times he had dreamed of trussing up one of those girls and now he had her on the bed, completely helpless. He began to wish he had reserved this occasion for himself. "Are you hot, Carla, do you want it?"
"Y-yeah! C'mon Walt, I really do want it, I'm not kidding." She wasn't either. For some reason, she was sweating profusely. A strange kind of headache had come over her-not a pain exactly, but a thick buzzing and heavy feeling between her temples, making it difficult to think rationally, like when she was really screwing in earnest and her brain got all jumbled and rattled. But worst of all was the itching in her cunt which had now spread across her groin, involving all the complex muscles of her abdomen. They were twitching and flexing on their own, as if reacting to a gigantic corkscrew someone had shoved into her and was winding them up on.
"What does it feel like?" Walt asked, sitting down on the bed next to her and running a hand lightly up and down her body, from the perspiring mountains of her stiffly nippled tits to the shiny saucer of her furry belly.
"It's like-it's hot, I'm really hot!" she gasped. "Did you give me something in that coke?"
"Down between your legs, in your snatch-is that where you feel it?" Walt interrogated her, ignoring her flash on the cola he had slipped the precious fly into.
"Yes, dammit, there and all over. C'mon, Walter, pleease! I need it!" The itching was transforming itself into a deadly ache, a gnawing hunger that pressed in all directions like an expanding balloon that was being inflated in her womb and emphasizing the emptiness inside her-the awful emptiness!
"It feels empty. God, I'm so hot, I can't understand it. Take your clothes off, Walt, and get on top of me, please."
"How 'bout my finger? Okay if I just fingerfuck you?" Walt leered, leaning over her thigh and deftly sliding his forefinger into the gaping maw of her blazing cunt.
"Ooooo, no, no. I want more. C'mon Walt, are you gonna fuck or not. Please, honey, don't play games, come and screw me, put your cock inside me, I'm dying to feel your big cock in me."
"In your cunt, Carla" Walt prompted her fiendishly.
"Yes, in my cunt, in my cunt. Put your cock in my cunt, ooooo-I can't stand it. It's eating me alive. What did you do to me. C'mon, Walt, it's eating me up. Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh it hurts, don't. Your finger makes it worse. I need you, I need your thing. Pleeeease, I'm burning up. Oh, I feel so empty. Please put it in, Walter. Walter darling, pleeeeease! I want your cock in my cunt, sliding back and forth, filling me, fill me up, pleeeease! Walter, pleeeeease! I can't stand it. It's awful. Ahhhh! Oh, my muscles, something's happening. You gave me something. Oh god, the muscles in my cunt are moving, I can feel them move. WALTER! Goddamit, Walter, take your finger out. No, no put it in again. Ahhhh-oh, it's not enough, not enough. Take your pants off and give me your prick! What are your pants on for. Take your clothes off. I want to feel your cock, I want it, I want it, god, I'm burning up, Walter, my twat is on fire, it's burning up, pleeeeease, I'm begging you-"
Walt sat entranced with the roiling, writhing motions her body strained in. He could almost see the waves of physical convulsion start at one end of her figure and roll through her sleek spread-eagled body to the other end and back again. Within the limits afforded by her bonds, she tossed her soft hairy beak up and down above the pillow, an anguished triangle of open, ravenous flesh which snapped at the air in frantic frustration....
"Please, Walter, please fuck me, I can't stand it, I'm going out of my mind, I can feel it, Walter, I can feel it, I'm afraid, Walter, I'm afraid, my cunt's so empty, so empty, oh, god, oHHHHHHH!" Carla heaved a great sob and her body went slack, falling from its excitingly arched and tense curvature back to the mattress. For a minute Walt thought she had passed out. Then he saw that the tendons in her shiny inner thighs were still jumping, her groin was still twitching, the mouth of her cunt yawning open like a voracious, unappeasable pink demon, gobbling at the air, the petals of her outer labia fluttering spastically, even the tiny bud of her clitoris erect and appearing from beneath its agitated hood like an angry red trigger searching for the relief of obscene manipulation.
Walt jumped up from the bed, leaving Carla babbling and moaning on the bed, a portrait of bound and babbling sexstruck girlishness.
He had heard the door and he opened it, admitting a frowning hulking Ronnie.
"What's going on?" the footballer asked, looking around crestfallen at the empty living room. "Thought you had something for me!"
"Listen!" Walt responded. The footballer cocked his head as they both lapsed into silence.
"Ucka-ucka-ucka-ucka," was what it sounded like, but Ronnie's eyes grew large as dollars as he comprehended that the female voice coming from the other room was actually chanting fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck in a low, tortured voice. He looked at Walt, who smiled obsequiously at him and gestured toward the sound, indicating that the pigskin powerhouse should go ahead.
Ronnie shambled into the bedroom, stiffening at the sight of the naked girl trussed on the bed, his attention immediately riveted on the crimson glory of her chortling bouncing cunt that gleamed wetly between her spasming thighs.
"She's out of her mind! Is that Carla?" Ronnie asked,-incredulous.
"Yep, she's been waiting for you," Walt promised the skeptical slow-moving bear of a teenager.
"Hey, Carla, hey, it's me, Ron, hey, do you want to be tied up like this?" he asked, coming round the side of the bed and reaching a hand out tentatively to her.
"Oh god, Ron! Ron! Ron! Fuck me, darling. Fuck me! Fuck me now! Don't waste time, oh god, Ronnie, I want it so bad, please fuck me, please, hurry, please hurry, oh I've waited so long, gimme your cock, please, Ron, please...."
"She's serious???" Ron asked, dumbstruck at the spectacle of the familiar cheerleader entreating him to do that which he hardly dared dream about
"Hurry up, man! She's begging you for it, get it oh. I'll leave you," Walt said, slipping out of the room and hustling himself around to the window so as not to miss any of the action.
"Hey, Carla? You sure?" Ronnie was gulping heavily, incensed at the sight of her naked thrashing body, especially excited by the fact of her bondage, the knowledge that she was perfectly spread out for his advantage. But was she serious?
"Carla?" he asked.
"God, Ron, don't wait, don't wait! Gimme your cock, please, I want it, I want your cock inside me, Ronnie...."
"You're sure, Carla, I don't know if you can!"
"RONEEEEEE!" she screamed in desperation. "What's wrong with you, you big ape. Fuck me, dammit, fuck me, fuck me, come and fuck me you big sissy!"
"Why!!! ... You!!" Ronnie had come alive, his pride lashed by her frantic insults. He glared down at her for a moment, then ripped open his belt and pants.
"Yes, yes, only hurry, it's eating me up, please hurry, come on, Ron, hurry, for crissakes hurry up and fuck me!"
He was struggling out of his shoes and trousers, revealing the powerful fuzzy columns of his legs. Then he had his shirt off, filling Carla's distracted eyes with the spectacle of his superbly muscled upper body. But he paused with his hands at the waistband of his shorts, looking intently at the inflamed iris that tossed and winked between her thighs.
"RONNN!" she cried. "C'mon, you big fairy, I can't wait, god, it's tearing me apart, come on, come onnnnn!"
Abruptly he pushed his shorts down. Carla's head swung sideways and she suddenly froze, all the exasperated motions of her artificially stimulated body coming to an instant stop. Between Ronnie's legs hung the most incredible organ she had ever imagined. It looked like a third giant ball, not especially long compared to most penises, but unnaturally, grotesquely thick, heavily wrinkled and veined and resembling nothing so much as a short stack of hamburger patties. Her crazed brain figured maybe it was just sideways, that the angle she was seeing it from distorted it. But no-she was seeing the truth, the brutal reality of the thickest cock in existence. And even as she stared at it, it began to erect after its own fashion.
For Ronnie, having a girl's eyes on his penis was tantamount to being jerked and sucked off all at once. Ever since he had been a kid, eagerly participating in sexual flirtation with the girl next door, rebuffed when she-knowledgeable for her age-ran screaming from the sight of his pudgy bloated member, he had kept it hidden, unused, unseen, unexposed. But now, for the first time since he had really reached sexual maturity, a girl was looking at it. And not in horror, either. But with a strange fascination in her wide, limpid eyes.
Carla thought she had been around and pretty well sampled the range of male members in the high school population of the town. She had sucked on them, circumcised and uncircumcised, masturbated them long and short, caressed and kissed them fat and thin, but this ... it was elongating, hanging down between his legs like a horse cock, evil-colored and unbelievably gross in circumference. And now it was growing still longer, as though it were telescoping out from the short barrel-shaped dormancy she had first glimpsed it in. Ordinarily she would have been repulsed by its unusual diameter, its clearly overblown girth. But though it grew larger every second, beginning to rise from between his muscular thighs like a great mottled bludgeon, she saw it only as the answer to the agonizing vacuum in her belly. Surprised as she was by Ronnie's appearance, and the revelation of his gargantuan hanging-so unexpected in a kid so notorious for his shyness, she seized upon its appearance as a sign of salvation, investing in the hideous growth ah her prayers for speedy deliverance from the torturous spasms that Walt had set off in her naked body. She lay heaving on the bed, gasping in mixed fear as the growing size of the now upright and still lengthening organ, and in desire at the potency it evinced-sure, in her crazed way, that if he got it into her, her suffering would be alleviated. And, accordingly, she babbled to him obscenely, urging him onto the bed, lewdly exhorting him to apply the monstrous engine to her quivering cuntal vortex.
Ronnie moved slowly, like a dumb hulking animal. He had done his share of joking about the cheerleaders who danced up and down on the sidelines while the team sweated its balls off on the field-the sportsman-like ribaldry which consisted of foul boasts and observations about the nature of the quims that could be only too easily imagined under the flashing triangular patches of scarlet underpanties when the boisterous girls leaped into the ah during a cheer. But Ronnie himself had never imagined that he would actually be confronted with one of the girls, naked, lasciviously spread-out, calling to him, pleading with him to administer the giant cock, which for so long he had been afraid to reveal to any girl, to the amazingly open feminine organs displayed atop the pillow.
For Ronnie, Carla's pink blaze of cunt opened and bloomed like a rose. Like a flower of passion. A red flag, making his cock go so hard his balls started aching. He lumbered up on the mattress, depressing it with his bulky, powerful frame. He looked slowly at her long, jerking legs, noting how they were bound at the ankles, how her body was split open, served up for him like meat on a platter-raw," incendiary, irresistible girlish meat. He looked down at the jiggling globes of her brown-nippled breasts, feasting his eyes on the reality of what had been, by his own choice, available to him only in colored pictures and pull-outs. And here they were, naked and ripe, hobbling about as if demanding the feel of his hands.
Awkwardly, salivating like a trained bear, he leaned over the nude, thrashing Carla and covered her soft breasts with his meaty hands, sinking his thick fingers into the pliant sweat-stained mammary mounds, amazed at the sumptuous feel of them filling his hands, yielding to his fingers, scouring his palms with the nutty divots of the hardened nipples.
Carla gasped with pain as Ronnie unconsciously tortured her, heedless of his own strength, fascinated by the feel of her mature charms, the marvelous bloated balloons of her bosom.
"Ron, Ron," she pleaded, "your cock, give me your cock, Ronnie. Fuck me.Jboney, fuck me, fuck me with your enormous cock, please, Ron, hurry! Fuck me, baby, fuck me now, now, NOW!"
Ronnie reared back in a daze, staring down at the hair-surmounted pink gash of her vagina which champed at the steaming air between her splayed thighs. She was so open, so vulnerable. He had always pictured the female organ as a modest repository hidden beneath a protective barrier of curly hair. But Carla's body was yawning open for him, incensing him with the spectacle of her open cunt. He could see past the flapping, frothing outer lips, right into the target of her torrid cavity, the roiling miasma of her inner, sucking hole, and the delicious-looking folds and ridges of elastic flesh which projected a magnetic attraction toward his throbbing, truncheon-like penis that swayed heavily between her legs. She was so beautiful, he kept thinking, as her obscene entreaties rained on his ears like the excited gibberish of a tape recorder played backwards.
"Hurry, Ron, hurry, honey, stuff your cock into me, stuff all of it into me, Ron, hurry, please, I can't stand it, my cunt is burning up, come on, honey, please, Ronnie, pleeeeease!"
Ronnie fell forward over her, covering her like a shadow. For a brief moment, he allowed himself the luxury of covering one of her nipples with his big hungry mouth, pulling nearly all of her breast in a cone between his jaws and playing with the miracle of her hard poking nipple like a baby with its first toy.
Beautiful girl, he thought, as his cock inadvertently scraped along her thigh with the massive presence of a blunt inflexible log.
"Yes, yes, Ron, hurry, honey, fuck me, fuck me!" she babbled beneath him, in an agony of expectation, her insides heaving almost to the point of involuntary rupture.
But he needed no further encouragement. The touch of her moist silky thigh against his swollen cockhead had incensed him. He butted her with the direct, blind force of a charging bull. His enormous cock battered the straining inner gate of her gleaming thighs, guided to their mossy apex. He butted again, clenching his buttocks with all the strength he used to lay out offensive blockers during a hard-fought game.
"OHHHHHH!" Carla yelped as the head end of his leviathan penis found the small squishy matrix of her dripping slot and jammed itself up against it.
Ronnie gulped and snorted, wild with the sensation of his foreskin meeting the wet hot liquid grotto of her widespread genital slot. He lifted up on his hands and feet, straddling the temptingly victimized girl stretched out beneath him. He looked down, drunk at the sight of his own penis-the member which he had always thought would be loathed by the opposite sex-now jammed into the inflammatory melt of her jerking jubilant sex pit. He pushed, driving Carla down into the mattress, forcing a high-pitched wail of mixed discomfort and delight from her as the mushrooming head of his phallus lodged securely in the elastic ring of her foam-flecked pussy. He didn't know exactly where a girl's cunt was, only that it had to be there somewhere in the boiling grotto, and that he had to get his penis somehow into its hot seething clutch.
"YAAAAAANH!" Carla yelled as Ronnie bore down on her with all his might and weight, prying open the jointed cradle of her pelvic bones, bruising her sensitive flesh as his cockhead jacked open her intimate narrows, stuffing the entire cuntal expanse between her out-flung thighs with his need, completely filling the rubbery crescent aperture and stretching it obscenely to a crater-shape capable, barely, of accommodating the bulk to come.
"AAAARRRGH!" she groaned ferociously as he screwed all his weight down on top of his bulging iron hard prick, his lust redoubled as the delicate nerve clusters in his foreskin encountered the first glossy hints of her inner succulence and sweet cuntal mire.
"Easy, Ronnie, easy!" Carla panted, out of her mind at the extraordinary pressures being exerted upon her cunt as his penis mired itself inch by inch into the forced-open cavity. "Fill me up, lover, fill me with your whole cock, but slowly, Ron, don't rip me, oh, oh it feels so good, oh god, it's sobig, so damned big, ohhhhh! Aaaaahhhhh! Too big, Ron, too big, easy, pleeease, go easy!"
Carla lifted her head up, straining to see the immense member which felt like a telephone pole being stuffed into her body. But all she could see was the tufted promontory of her pubis beneath what seemed to be another foot or so of his unnaturally broad and club-shaped penis.
"Too much!" she gasped. "Too big, please, Ronnie, too big!" she pleaded, shaking her head.
But Ronnie had no intention of stopping short of feeling his prick buried triumphantly in the feminine jelly he had dreamed of for so long. To her the process of entry was a fiendish torture, stretching her vulva and the inner outraged channel out of all proportion as he wedged into her. But to him, the desperate constriction of her straining vagina was a balm, a sweet torment of clasping milky flesh and silken tissues embracing and lubricating his burning cock, inviting it to plunge to the hilt into the sensuous socket of her sweating redolent pussy.
Ronnie withdrew, rugging his cock an inch or so back out of the tight clasp of her cunt then, with a grunt of determination, bouncing his whole body on top of her with such force that suddenly, the vise of her pelvis already loosened, his mighty member drove into her, squashing her inner organs, bulling its way in, inflating the astonished receptacle of her vagina, hitting its end with a friction that only served to urge him on, stretching it until she thought her womb would be torn loose from its coupling with her outer hole, stretching it to a tight plastic sheath, mashing aside everything else, reaming up into her belly, barely under the surface-like a mole in spring-softened earth, delving so deeply into her she thought she imagined its bulky head running along the knobs of her backbone and burying itself in her upper body.
He was ecstatic, grinning down at the sight of his pubic hair meshing with hers. She had taken him! ... he had taken her! He had lost his cherry, achieved what he had been led to believe was impossible, assaulted her with his penis and succeeded, and now he was really in her, fucking her, or, rather, trying to fuck her since, as he tried to extricate his horse-sized cock, her body nearly collapsed with the suction it exerted in the process of withdrawal.
"OHHHHH-H-H-H-H-H!" Carla rattled, her body yielding to a slow second thrust which stuffed her like an olive, igniting fireworks of lustful satisfaction in her gobbling, greedy cunt.
"OKHHH-H-H-H-H-H!" she cried, shuddering as her contorted body struggled to accommodate the willful mass of his cock surging inside her. Ronnie looked around, fearful that someone would hear her bone-vibrating groans of pleasure. Outside the window Walt did the same, his blood running cold at the sound of Carla's ominous raiding cries of insensate reverie.
"OHHH-H-H-H-OHH-OH-OHH-OHHHHHH! OH!" she cried, her healthy cheerleader's lungs making the walls of the house ring as she exercised her approval at the slow surfeit of sensation his broad bludgeon of a cock caused as it rasped between her thin-stretched cuntal lips and sounded deep in her vitals.
Ronnie's alarm increased, for with every difficult movement of his member in the tight velvet sheath of her pussy, her cries resounded. He stared down at her, seeing her head thrown back, her mouth open gasping for ah as the breath was squeezed from her body, her eyes clenched shut, her nails digging into the palms of the hands that struggled in then bonds-not knowing that, far from hurting her, every slide of his huge penis was triggering a prolonged orgasmic convulsion throughout her prostrate being.
"Hey, I can hear her all the way outside, do something!" Walt said excitedly, appearing at the door, his eyes widening at the incredible view of Ronnie's cock cudgelling its way into the scarlet morass between Carla's bronzed thighs.
"You do something, I can't!" Ronnie panted, intent only on the thrill of first-time sex he was experiencing as he drove his meat again and again into the yielding hollow of the girl's body, incredulous that his impassioned dream had become a reality, and incredibly single-minded with the itching that increased in his engine with every forcefully applied fucking motion.
Walt put his hands to his ears, trying to block out Carla's bloodcurdling cries of pleasure. He ran to the window, drawing the heavy drapes, hoping to muffle the shrieks and bellows she was emitting as the softness of her frame was filled with the hard piston of Ronnie's passion.
Then Walt looked at Carla, seeing her red-lipped mouth stretched open, her white teeth glistening. In a flash of inspiration he realized that he could kill two birds with one stone. His pants seemed to detach themselves from his body as he flew to the bed. He leapt up before the startled footballer, his own cock a parody of potency in comparison to the thick log wedged up inside Carla's undulating form. With one hand he seized Carla's hair, forcing her head back, her open mouth up as he straddled her shoulders. With his other hand he forced his spiny stiffened penis down, shoving the reddened head between her ruby lips, scuddling it along the roof of her mouth and jamming it down into her noisy throat.
Carla's eyes flew open but her mouth instinctively closed, her soft lips molding themselves in an oval around the skewering substance of Walt's rapine male member. Locking both hands in her hair, Walt began jerking her head up and down, using her mouth to fuck himself, scrambling her brains as her nostrils flared, her cheeks blew in and out, and she fought for breath against the intrusion of his penis deep into her throat where her cries over Ronnie's fantastic fucking were stifled in desperate gurglings.
She came close to blacking out as Walt's hands forced her head to fly up and down, her mouth sliding up and down the downward pointing shaft of his slimy penis. At the same time her body stiffened from the impact of Ronnie's quickening thrusts inside her. The waves of pleasure were coming so fast they blended into one indescribable intoxicating trance of animal release, tightening her whole being into a spring that made her arch up under the assault of the two males and scream soundlessly for joy at the pleasure exploding inside her.
The obscene sucking sounds of her cunt collapsing and bloating with Ronnie's member filled the room. He was moving as fast as an ordinary fucker now, sending the spear of his passion racing in and out of her gulping cunt, speeding toward completion.
"Oh shit, goddam! Ahhhhhh! Oh fuck! Fuck, yes! Yes! YEES!" Ronnie shouted as the knot in his testicles burst as his balls clouted her buttocks and moved upward to the thick muscles at the base of his walrus-sized cock. His meaty hands tightened on her breasts underneath Walt's ass. With a last incredible lunge he drove the spike of his phallus deep inside her with such force that one of the bonds holding her ankle ripped loose. Her free leg flew into the air and wound around his back, pulling him to her as his white-hot cockhead found the end of her vaginal channel and instantly erupted with a spurting mass of lava-like sperm that flooded the girl's insides in so heavy a flow that it shot back out around the base of his cock, drenching her thighs and buttocks with his viscous spume.
Carla screamed with pleasure, a scream that was transformed into vibrating titillation of the penis inserted in her mouth. Walt hunched over her head, gripping her ears and screwing his cock malevolently down into the gulping gorge of her throat. Carla's head shook wildly from side to side, trying to communicate her breathlessness, her panicked fear of being suffocated by the impalement in her gullet. But her movements were the last straw added to Walt's passion that released his own pent-up lust and suddenly she was choking on a wave of hot, heady sperm that pumped from his flying penis into her mouth, ebbing out its comers in whitish, obscene rivulets and climaxing the three-way coupling that left them all slumped and exhausted with Ronnie, like a bemused little boy, tugging fitfully at his cock, trying to rescue it from the ongoing clutching spasms of the cunt into which he had launched the first proof of his manhood.
"Glug-ug-guhhhh-ohhhhh!" Carla crooned, exhausted from her trial at the hands of the two outrageous penetrations of her body, sated from the orgasms Ronnie's amazing appendage had incited in her, and rapturous in the afterglow of the sex subjection Walt had trapped and used her in, oblivious to the last erotic kicks he was getting from steering the sensitive foreskin of his shrunken member around the sperm-streaked red lips of her open, gasping mouth.
CHAPTER NINE
"Don, this is Jennifer, a really tight friend of mine."
"Pleased to meetcha," Peters said, shaking Jenny's hand perfunctorily and quickly sizing up her play-suited young figure with expert eyes.
"She's a cheerleader, too."
"That's right? With gals like you I don't see how the team can lose. In fact I'm counting on giving them a victory dinner here after the championship-for ah you kids."
"Really? Wow! That'd be outasight, wouldn't it?" Jennifer nodded, but her mind was elsewhere, sizing up Peters in return and wondering if this was the
"man" who had sold her best friend on the virtues of real, adult sex.
There was a knock on the office door and a young woman in a futuristic mini-dress with a sash holding together her deeply cut cleavage stepped in.
"Ah, Donna," Peters welcomed the maid. "We have a new visitor. Jennifer, this is Donna. Donna, Jennifer, and I think you know Shelly. Why don't you show Jennifer around the hotel and see that she has a room and everything she needs for a pleasant day."
"Oh, that's all right," objected Jenny, anxious not to be parted from her friend. "Don't you want to go swimming, Shel?"
"Mmmmm, not just yet," Shelly demurred. "You ought to take a look around the place. It's really fabulous. I'll catch up to you in a little bit."
"Oh," Jenny faltered, looking at her friend and then at Peters, whose handsome face was creased by a faint, confident smile. "Oh, okay, I guess, well, see you later!" she said in a forced tone of gaiety, exiting with Donna, and reluctantly shutting the door on her friend and the older man.
"Well! How you been doing?" Peters asked Shelly, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her to him.
"Oh, I've been fine."
"Yeah, no problems? I was kinda worried, you know; after all, you sure bled a lot last weekend."
"It's okay."
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh. I was sore most of the week. But not anymore," she smiled, looking up at him, her unspoken desire transparently obvious in her heavy-lidded eyes.
"Good, good! After all, I couldn't phone you. I mean, what would your old man think if I called for you."
"No, that wouldn't do," she agreed. "It's all right. I knew I'd see you this weekend. That's ah I wanted."
"That so? I thought ah you kids were busy getting ready for the championship. That should be some game. I might come see it myself-see what you look like in that cheerleading outfit."
"Mmmmmm," Shelly murmured, snuggling close to Peters, aroused by the mere feel of his hard, mature body. His hand came down and lifted her chin and she closed her eyes as Peters kissed her long and lingeringly on the lips, starting sparks of erotic excitement racing through her body.
"Hey, look, I got you a present," he announced, detaching himself from the amorous girl and handing her a gift-wrapped box.
"Oh, wow, gee!" Shelly exulted, ripping it apart like a spoiled child at a birthday party. Shredded wrapping paper littered the rug as she laid the small box down on the desk and opened it.
"What???" she exclaimed, lifting the black undergarment from the box. "Is it a bra?"
"A very special bra, for a very special girl!" Peters nodded. "There's something else."
"Huh? Oh ... underpants???" she said, fingering the black lace panties, slightly disappointed that there was nothing else.
"I think you ought to try them on," he suggested with a leer.
"Right here?" Shelly responded, her modesty having returned during the week and unable to directly deal with the straightforward sexuality Peters obviously expected of her.
"Sure, right here, let's get your clothes off."
"But, but, but!...." she protested, as Peters gathered up the sweater she was wearing and lifted it over her head.
"So beautiful, how does a girl as young as you are get to be so beautiful?" he said, expertly unfastening her short skirt and letting it drop to the floor.
"I get lots of exercise-ooh, you're tickling me!" she squealed as Peters uncoupled the strap of her bra and stripped it off her baring her ripe round breasts. "Ohhh!" she gasped as he peremptorily yanked her panties from her hips and falling to one knee, tugged them down her legs, helping her to step out of them.
"Now shut your eyes and don't open them until I say so," he instructed her.
"Oh, all right," she agreed, closing her eyes and standing nakedly in the office. She felt Peters awkwardly putting on the new brassiere, fastening it in back. Then his hand lifted her ankles, one by one, making her step into the panties, and he drew them up around her hips.
"Okay, open 'em!" he ordered, stepping back to feast his eyes on the sight of the erotically adorned girlish body.
"Oh!" Shelly gasped in surprise, looking down at her bosom. "My god!" Her nipples-in fact the entire ends of her breasts were thrusting in conical naked points through the cups of the brassiere from which the centers had been cut out.
"Ohhh!" she exclaimed, instinctively covering her naked nipples with her hands and bending over to look at the panties. They were even more of a surprise-filmy black lace underpants from which the crotch had been removed, leaving her blond pubic bush and sex parts completely exposed in a cradle of sexy panty material.
Peters bellowed with laughter as she looked at him in amazement and then smiled, slowly appreciating his joke on her, and the implicit flattery of the cutaway undergarments. She felt so strange in them. They were obviously expensive things, but they seemed so, so whorish, so unlike her. If he wanted her naked, that was one thing, but to deck her out like this, in a bra and set of panties that emphasized her sex parts, made her slightly embarrassed. She tried to conceal her self-consciousness, afraid of seeming prudish and losing favor with her lover, who obviously appreciated her charms with a much more worldly eye than she had the experience to see with.
"Gee, they don't protect me much," she remarked.
"All the better to make love to you in," he replied. He bent down as she watched and sticking out his tongue obscenely, ran the tip of it around one of the nipples that protruded from the twin black baskets of the sexy bra.
"Ooooo!" she squealed, feeling her breast melt as his tongue massaged her prickly-feeling nipple with lascivious wetness.
"Do you like that?" he asked, transferring to the other breast and lapping at it like a thirsty dog at a water dish. "Like it when I kiss your tits?"
"Y-yes," Shelly stammered, still not able to relax at the sight of her "tits" protruding saucily from the devilishly designed garment. It sure didn't make for much dignity, but she was forgetting that as his head travelled back and forth, anointing her nipples with salacious, salivating kisses.
"You have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen," Peters said, straightening up and closing a thumb and forefinger over each conveniently protruding breast end.
"I do-ohhh," she sighed, going limp as the balls of his thumbs teased her nipples to a swiftly erecting condition, redoubling their sensitivity.
"You bet you do," Peters lied easily. In fact, the most exciting breasts he had ever known had long since passed from his possession, but the youth and firmness of the teenager's teats more than made up for their remembered perfection.
"Get up here on the desk," he ordered her, lifting her bodily by the hips up onto the wooden stage-like platform. "Spread your legs apart."
Shelly hesitated, wishing he would take her to bed where they could make real love. He always seemed to be so tied to his office and it made their sex uncomfortable for her. She wanted to lie in a bed and have him make love to her.
"Come on, spread 'em apart, let me see that delicious little cunt!"
His tone was so insistent that she complied against her better judgment. Maybe he was teaching her new ways, things she didn't know about and should learn if she was going to continue to exert the attraction she felt she exerted on him. She moved her feet apart, conscious that her pudendum was sticking through the nonexistent crotch of the specially-made panties.
"Wider!" he barked with a leer. "I thought you girls were supposed to be able to do splits and all kinds of things. You're stiff as an old spinster. Come on, open 'em up, all the way, all the way!" he insisted, moving her feet so far apart that she was afraid of losing her balance. She might as well not wear the panties at all, so blatantly did she suspect her sex parts of thrusting through them and spreading with the exertion of her slim thighs splitting nearly horizontally. But in a way it was like doing the splits during a rousing cheer. Only now, instead of flashing the badge of her scarlet panties to the crowd, she was showing her naked bird to a one-man audience. Yet surely he appreciated her in his own individual way as much as the cheering crowds did when she and the other girls went through their maneuvers of prostration and sexy performance.
"That's it!" Peters exulted, craning his neck and looking right up at the center of her crotch where the blond pubic hairs frizzed out around her organish cuntal cleft. He ran his hands up and down the underside of her smooth thighs until she had to steady herself by placing her hands on top of his head as his fingertips traced lewd patterns of arousal on her skin. Then she felt his breath bathing the junction where her inner thighs hollowed slightly, punctuated by her tendons, joined to the sockets of her body. His breath grew warmer and made her own breathing hasten with excitement. It was so hard to hold the position. Her thighs ached with the split she was doing-like some Balinese dancer, almost turning her quim inside out for her lover.
But Peters was kissing her thighs in earnest now, gumming the sweet maiden flesh, tender and warm, between his lips, skating his tongue in circles and eights until the itching in her nerves began to converge, coming closer and closer to her newly-initiated vulva.
"Want me to eat you?" he leered up at her, loosening his tie and shucking off his jacket.
Shelly looked down at him blankly, not quite sure how to respond, knowing that she did want his mouth on her tingling quim, yet unable to actually mouth the demand.
"Hunh??? Don't you want me to loosen up your gorgeous little twat with my tongue and eat you right out of your shoes?"
She blushed and nodded, shutting her eyes on the sight of his head tucking between her thighs, bowing to the ultimate homage a man could pay to her sex-hungry young body and egotistical mind.
"Ohh, Don!" she exclaimed as with a fully open mouth he locked onto her barely spreading puffy slot and began to run his tongue wantonly up and down the tender, hitherto maiden, groove. In moments the hot twitching crescent curve of her genitals were a seething mush, melting in his voracious mouth, liquefying as he ran his tongue round and round the soft slippery hair-rimmed lips of her sixteen-year old slit.
"Mmmph-mmmmm!" he chortled, gulping down the first trickles of the effusions her body was beginning to churn out as he lashed her quim with his penetrating tongue.
"Ohhh! Ohhhhhh!" Shelly moaned as Peters traced the intimate outline of her cuntal opening with his tongue, lingering around the tiny recess that sheltered the delicate bud of her squiggly pink clitoris.
"OHHHHHH!" His mouth had pursed around the intersection of the fatty lips at the top of her pussy, sucking the hair-covered beak of her groin between his lips, foraging wildly for the diminutive digit His tongue-tip found it, making her stagger with joy at the unbearable pleasurable contact of tongue and clit-tip. She tottered and moaned, but held on, panting wildly as he diddled the super-sensitive bud with his tongue.
Like a secret valve discovered and turned on, the manipulation of her clitoral nubbin released a crearning rush of love juices from the countless glands in her burnished cuntal walls. His mouth moved back down and under the cavity that her limber labia parted to reveal, drinking up the dripping nectar of her lust, then guiding his tongue into the natural funnel of her steaming sloshing cunt-well.
"Ohmigod, Don, it's inside me, your tongue's inside me, I can feel it, oh yes, yes! Oh god, you're fucking me with your tongue, oh, oh, ohhhhh!"
And he was. Pushing from the very roots he had thrust his tongue up between the pulpy flanges of her inner pussy lips, lodging its turgid tip in the buttery burrow of her vagina and boisterously tonguing the rippling walls of the hidden channel.
It was like a brand in her belly. Slowly, surely, her flaring girlish hips began circulating back and forth, then settled into a regular swivelling motion, as practiced as though she had been having sex for decades, revolving her body on top of his mouth, releasing some of the energies which his satanic mouth had summoned forth in the intimate crevices of her curdling cunt.
He moved with her, round and round, her fleecy thighs brushing the sides of his head, her fingers locked in his hair, her mewlings and moans sweet music to his jaded ears as he imagined the spectacle of her body undulating above him, the stiff prongs of her pink nipples jabbing the air through the portholes of the bra, her navel tucking in and out as her belly crawled up and down, the magnificent flexing of her body-the composite vision blazed in his mind as he whirred his thick tongue in and out of the slushy socket of her recenfly deflowered cuntal chasm.
"Uuuuuunh! Uuuunh! Ohhhhhh! Uuuuuuuunh!" Shelly reeled atop the desk, half-standing, halfsquatting, her cunt glued to Peters' mouth, her hips jerking spastically, her buttocks clenching and unclenching as his terrific sucking and devouring increased, pulling her flowering quim down into his mouth, locking her clitoris in anguished contact with his roiling tongue.
"Ohgodohgodohgod! It's-ni-oh!-ohgod-I'm ... I'm ... I-yii-yiiiiieeeeeeee!" she screamed with pleasure, head rolling wildly as the heavy gourd of passion in her belly suddenly burst and showered her insides with multicolored starbursts of ecstasy that leapt from her ice-hot clitoris through the muck of her slobbering cunt throughout her being and drained her of conscious reflex. Ah she knew was that she was soaring, borne aloft on top of the pivot that Peters' mouth made for the ball bearing of her pussy beak and the gymbal of her clit.
"Ohhhh! Ohhhhh!" she heaved, bending double, as Peters released his remora-like oral grip on her treasure and let her go. Her hands flew to the squishy apex, pressing against the hair-matted out-turned flanges of her palpitating pussy, trying to still the fading storm of lust he had set going in her loins like a wild cyclone.
"So you like a hide mouth, huh?" Peters grinned, wiping his besmeared chops with the back of his hand and reveling in the portrait of helpless eroticism she made as she hunkered on top of his desk, the cream from her cunt oozing through her fingers and trailing in glistening rivulets down her aching thighs.
"Oh, it was so good, soooo good! I didn't know it could be like that," Shelly breathed, shaking her blond-haired head in wonderment at the ongoing impulses of pleasure which pulsed through the cunt she had cupped in her hands. "It was so good, so good, Don, so good," she chanted over and over, gazing at him with loving, shining eyes.
"Really got your rocks off, huh?" he goaded her.
"Fantastic!" she affirmed. "I never felt anything like it, really, it was so strong. Wow! I'm wiped out. Really!"
"Well, don't go quitting on the job. I'm gonna get mine now, kid. Lay down here on your back."
"Here, on the desk?"
"That's right. Push that shit aside and lie down on your back, let your head hang over the edge, over here, that's it. Boy, your tits sure look sweet sticking up like that. That bra makes 'em stand up so nice, though you got such hard little knockers they'd be doing that anyway. That's it, honey, just stretch out and hang your head over."
"What are we going to do?" Shelly asked innocently, looking upside-down at Peters as he shucked off his trousers and shorts, revealing the sabre-like cock which had carved her cunt so mercilessly into womanhood the previous weekend.
"Well, you're going to he there, sweetheart, and give me some of the same."
Shelly's mind raced. Did he mean he wanted her to take his penis in her mouth? But then why did he have her lying on her back like this, head upside-down, mouth-upturned. But that was evidently what he did mean, for he straddled her head now, hanging his hairy balls over her face, then lowering his body so that his scrotum draped against her mouth.
"Open up, Shelly, baby, suck on my balls like I sucked your cunt!" he ordered.
She hesitated, wondering just what he meant. She had never dreamed of doing anything like this before and, besides, his balls were too big to go in her mouth.
"Owwww!" she exclaimed as, without warning, he pinched one of her exposed, erect nipples viciously. "Ooooo, that hurt me," she protested.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but I can't wait. Open up and lick my balls. I got a heavy charge on after sucking that sweet little morsel you got between your legs."
"But, but...." It felt so silly, his balls sliding on her face. It was so grotesque, absurd, to be upside-down like this, with his nuts rolling over her chin like two plums in a baggie.
"C'mon, open up and suck! You wanna be treated like a woman, you gotta suck like a woman, okay? Start licking my balls!"
Really! she thought, opening her mouth, surprised at the way one of his balls seemed to plop right into her oral cavity. Men were so silly! She vaguely remembered how Stefan had argued with her one night when they were making out-trying to get her to go down on him, to use her mouth on him. But she had refused. The idea had been repugnant to her and, anyway, she didn't know what to do.
Now she felt his scrotum creeping over her lips, the little hairs tickling her chin and nose. She moved her tongue, gently bathing the tender spheroid with her saliva and sloshing it around in the liquid-well of her oral cavity.
"Mmmmmm, there you go! Good girl!" he praised her, wiggling his crotch above her in appreciation of the careful caresses she was administering to his floating testicle. He began rolling her nipples between his fingers, looking down over her bosom, under his swarthy belly, at his balls filling her straining mouth, catching glimpses of her small pink tongue and pearl white teeth as she exchanged one nut for another, covering his hairy sac with the iridescent slime of her saliva.
She learned fast, this one! He wondered if her friend was as good, not quite as good-looking, but she looked like a virgin, too, come to think of it. She had that same aura about her. But she was just as sexy, maybe more so. After all, he had taken Shelly's cherry and that was half the fun. No matter how good a mistress she might make, his loyalties were always easily distracted by the promise of another tight, unused, eager little cherry-hiding cunt.
Damn, but it felt good. "That's it, good girl, that's good, really good," he commended her, as she pushed one ball up out of her little mouth and let its partner plop in to circulate in the liquid ambience of her oral receptacle.
He loved the sight of it, hard to believe this was the same wholesome little cheerleader he had laid eyes on while keeping that stupid salesman Shoat on the hook. Here she was, decked out like a Tijuana strip-teaser, a cheerleader! The pride and joy of the high school stretched out on his desk sucking on his balls for the first time in her life, craning her jaws open to get a mouthful of his manhood, belly up, titties poking into the air, gulping at his scrote like an animal, like the kind of animal he loved to turn young girls into and frequently had.
He could feel the numbness in his balls swell into an aching heaviness ... could feel the thick sperm rising from the twin orbs, ready to be shot through his erect and quivering tool. She was good, mmmm, this little bitch was good, her soft sensuous virgin little mouth, even better than her craven little jewel of a pussy.
He lifted up, pulling his captive testicle free from her mouth. He moved back, spreading his legs, lowering over her. He cupped a hand under her head, delighting in the gossamer feel of her silky blond hair that trailed toward the floor like a golden waterfall. He supported her head with one hand and with the other, grasped his reddened stiff penile rod and aimed it at the yearned-for target.
"Open wide," he chuckled.
"What are you going to do. Don? Don? Don't!" Shelly protested, realizing just what it was he had arranged her like this for, her mind boggling at the image it suggested, unbelieving, incredulous as always that her body could actually be used like this.
"Come on, open up, Shelly, I got a hard .sucker for you to suck on. Open up!"
"But-but, I can't, I...."
"Sure you can, open up!" He lifted her head a little and before she knew what was happening, slipped the empurpled head of his dick between her astonished lips. It scraped past her sharp teeth and pushed against the sensuous pad of her tongue, travelling toward the chamber of her throat.
"Wooo! Aw won' ee ayle oo reethe!" she insisted, trying to talk in spite of the fleshy staff being introduced to her mouth.
"Breathe through your nose. Relax your throat now, come on, relax!" His voice went hard. He took her face in both his hands and tilted it back until her mouth aligned with the channel of her slender sculpted neck. He had his cock centered in the back of her mouth now as her eyes went wide with alarm and apprehension.
"Now listen to me, Shelly, you listening?"
She tried to nod, her tongue working in vain to expel the unwanted intrusion of his rigid, corded penis.
"Now I'm going to fuck you right in the mouth. All you have to do is breathe on the outstroke. Don't get upset. I'm not gonna choke you. We got a lot to do together, okay? So don't worry. Just relax and enjoy it, cause I sure am. Okay?"
"Glrrr!!!" she gurgled, her hands rising in defense but uncertain what to do.
"Here we go, baby!" he announced. With a carefully coordinated movement of his body, holding her head so that easy access to her gulping gullet was assured, Peters slid his hips forward in a relentless push that bored his penis into the back of her mouth, pushing her little adenoid aside and reaming the full length of his cock into the mucousy channel of her throat, watching her neck as her gullet expanded elastically to accommodate the organ that momentarily deprived her of the ability to breathe or cry out or even gag on the bizarre penetration. Then, acting quickly before she could panic in earnest, he withdrew, pulling his cock out until the head lay just between her lips, his entire shaft lubricated with her saliva and itching from the feral contact her throat had sheathed him in.
"There! That wasn't so bad, was it!"
Shelby's brain reeled with the blood pounding in her head. She didn't believe he had just done what he had done-actually screwing her in the throat. Why didn't he fuck her where he was supposed to? She panted wildly, hands hovering uncertainly in the air.
"Was it now? Now you know what to do, so I'm gonna get this load off!" he announced, much as a dentist would before getting into the serious extraction of a tooth.
"Here we go!" Peters sang out, unable to hold back any longer, possessed by the desire to sink his cock into her young innocent body. His hips slid forward again, his spongy cockhead buffeting her mouth and pulsing into her gullet like a ramrod stuffed down the bore of a cannon.
He pulled it out and she gasped a wheezing gulp of air. Then he was in again, ripping her neck open as he sent the rapier of his penis down almost into her chest, reveling in the added pleasure her body afforded him from the involuntary contractions and heavings of her neck and throat muscles.
Like so many of his countrymen Peters wasn't overtly political, but every time the subject of Castro came up, he remembered pre-revolutionary Havana and the young Cuban girl who had first shown him how to effect this extraordinary coupling of man and womana trick he had practiced for years now in the States.
In and out, he drove his penis back and forth between Shelly's paralyzed jaws, making black lights flash in her brain as his mushroom-shaped cockhead mercilessly spiralled in and out of her throat, sinking so far in that she felt heartburn, that his pubic hair ground against her chin and his balls skidded over her face as he forced his long phallus all the way into her body, holding it a fraction of a second longer each time before withdrawing and allowing her to gulp a swallow of the redolent tainted air that surrounded her nostrils.
The passion was rising in him in earnest now, however. He let go her head and leaned over her, gripping her waist and swimming from breast to breast champing down on her nipples one after the other in conjunction with each cockstroke that drove stake-like through her outraged mouth into the ersatz cunt of her esophagus.
Faster and faster his prick sawed in and out her mouth as she held her head up in her own hands, trying to ease the neck pain but also trying to keep the alignment true so that he didn't drill through the base of her mouth and stuff her own tongue into her windpipe.
Her brain positively reeled from the effects of the onslaught. She stared up with stupefied eyes at his body moving back and forth, the furry hemispheres of his buttocks contracting obscenely over her face, the feeling of his crinkly scrotum brushing over her eyes, straddling her little nose.
What about when he comes, she thought in terror-the thought prompting a brief impulse to struggle until she realized that anything she might do, any move she might make could only injure herself. She hadn't even thought of his ... his come! His sperm! Would she drown in his sperm!
"Christ! Jesus fucking A! Goddam! Yes! Beautiful! Beautiful! I'm coming, I'm coming, hang on, Shelly, I'm coming, baby! Here it comes! Here it comes! Ohhhh! OHHHHH! OHHH SHIT! OHHHHH!"
Rigid with fear, Shelly lay under him, her lips extended and pursed in a circle around the heavily veined sliding column of his wet cock. She groaned deep in her chest as he slammed into her again and again, the entire length of his brutal penis passing above her eyes and disappearing impossibly into her throat, ripping her inside out on its way out, bulling its way back in, then it was jammed in, he wasn't moving, she had to have air, her hands beat on his buttocks in little fists as they contracted and clenched, her head shook wildly, inadvertently adding a noose-like pleasure to the base of his bursting swollen penis, but he wasn't pulling out, she was writhing from lack of air, he was going to come inside her, she'd drown, she'd die, migod, what would happen to her, what would happen, what would her parents do, what would Stefan think, she seized his balls, tugging on them frantically to bring him out, squeezing them, feeling the muscles at the root of his cock gather and flex for his climactic burst, screaming soundlessly, bathing his prickhead and shaft with vibrations, choking, strangling, her throat convulsing and massaging his penis with fantastic manipulations that she could never have willed or discovered, all up and down the length of his hot mallet-like cock writhing and squeezing and milking every nerve-rich centimeter of bestial male phallus, he was going to kill her for his own pleasure, he was hanging on, feeling his cock go diamond-hard, feeling like it was being peeled back, stripped to the bare bone and nerves, holding on until her convulsions had brought him to the absolute peak of pleasure and then quickly pulling it out, giving her a split-second, "Riimnmirmri", her inward sob, great heaving intake of fresh air, jabbing the incandescent head of his cock under her tongue and feeling it spit his hot passion, thump, thump, thump, squelsh, thluck, sluck, his cock emptied itself in her mouth, her mouth suddenly full of cobwebs, wet gooey strands of hot sperm coating her tongue, her lips, like hot glue, overflowing her red lips, sticky on her teeth, trickling hotly in reverse tear-trails down her cheeks, gobs of the white passion, mucky-tasting seeds choking her, trying to breathe, breathing, trying to get his softening cock out of her mouth, yet happy suddenly, she was breathing, he hadn't suffocated her, and it had happened, the thing she had feared for so long, never knew how she would react to, a man's cock in her mouth, in her body, coming in her mouth, his seed in her mouth, not bad-tasting, surprising, sticky, slimy, but it was his, collapsed on top of her, nuzzling her still sticky cunt where it stuck through the portal in her panties, limply lying on her, lolling in her cunt, his soft cock limp in her mouth, still overcome and amazed at the way he had used her, introduced her to her body for the second time, blowing her mind, nibbling on his penis, so small and wet and shrunken, so unlike the hard column that had been driven half through her body, suddenly she really, really loved him, loved the feel of his hard body on top of her, his belly pressing against her breasts, glad there were no ends on the cups, that her nipples were poking through to press up against him, that her cunt was open for him, slushy and melting with new discharges as he panted and plucked at her raw gorge with his tongue, his tongue between her legs, felt like his penis in her mouth....
Shelly felt proud. She felt old, sophisticated, master of her own body and her lover's. She was rolling over, up, laying Don out on the desk, draping his legs over the edge, on her feet, fingering his wet shriveled penis, intensely curious about this little organ, this incredible changing man's thing, glad that she had submitted to it now, feeling possessive toward it, eager to explore its secrets, to reawaken it, to rouse him to show her new feats of sexual accomplishment and maybe to bring her again to that marvelous soaring feeling she had undergone, that he must have felt when holding for those long torturous moments in her throat, pulling back at the last minute to pump his joy into her eager mouth. She had never been so conscious of her mouth as now and she was glad that, for the first time in ever so long, she had put on lipstick this morning, seeing the traces of red on his penis, intuiting that, together with the sleazy lingerie he had bought for her, he would enjoy her whorishly lipsticked mouth doting on his instrument, the sword that had sundered her maiden emblem, the frail knob that she wanted to see hard and impassioned again....
CHAPTER TEN
Jenny was restless. She found it impossible to concentrate on the tour that Donna was giving her, as impressive and sumptuous as their surroundings wereno wonder Shelly had had such a good time! But she couldn't stop recalling Mr. Peters. He was certainly good-looking. But so much older than she was. Had he really been the one? Or was it someone else? Some youth she had met around the pool, even one of the show people or maybe a waiter or busboy?
They had made a circuit of the balcony that ran round the roof of the hotel, viewing the layout of the grounds, the parking lot, the golf course, the auditorium that had been converted to a convention hall, and nightclub facilities. It was all so beautiful. But what was Shelly doing? Was he the one? Where had she gotten the nerve to let a man old enough to be her father take her vhginity. From the way she had described her deflowerment earlier in the week at Jenny's insistence, she sounded really heavy on her lover, like she had a real crush. But on Peters?
"Shhhhhh! This is the boss' office!" Donna cautioned Jennifer as they crossed over a narrow walkway to a penthouse-like addition to the hotel with large windows that overlooked the entire establishment. The first three windows had the curtains drawn. Then Donna drew back, her finger to her smiling lips, winking at Jennifer.
"Your friend's really into it!" she giggled.
"Hnh?" Jenny exclaimed, mystified at her guide's behavior.
"Look through the window, be careful, though, here, peek through here!"
Jennifer squinted, trying to adjust her eyes from the bright sunlight to the tinted interior viewable through the space between the edge of the curtain and the window frame.
Her heart leapt to her throat. She blinked in disbelief and shook her head, then looked again. It was Shelly. In that incredible outfit. She could hardly believe her eyes. She shaded her eyes with both hands and peered through the window.
The man-it was Peters!-was stretched out, naked, on the desk. The girl leaning over him pushed the blonde hair out of her face. Her lips were molded into an obscene O shape. Her other hand was coddling the man's testicles. Her face came down to his crotch. Jennifer's stomach gave a flip-flop. She was going to! ... Shelby's mouth found the glistening prong of Peters' phallus and it slipped between her red lips. She looked like she was chewing it. No, she was sort of eating it, pulling its soft mass in to the hilt. But what was the stuff streaking her face and his crotch??? She was ... she was sucking him off. Jennifer could see her best friend's cheeks hohow, her head moving back and forth, up and down, gobbling at the limp penis tucked into her mouth.
Jennifer felt faint. She slumped to her knees and knelt in front of the window, transfixed by the incredible sight of Shelly's transformation. That outfit! The shoes! But especially the bra! A bra with the nipples cut out! It was like a picture she had once seen in a magazine her brother hadn't hid away carefully enough on one of his sojurns home from school. But that Shelly should be decked out like that!!! Shelly, who was so nice, Shelly the adamant virgin, she had even doubted her story of deflowerment, had imagined Shelly was making it all up, and look at her! Jennifer gasped again as Shelly shifted her position, coming to one side of the desk, revealing the brazen spectacle of her matted cunt thrusting through the filigreed panties. Black panties! Far fucking out! Jennifer thought.
Donna was looking over her shoulder now, kneeling beside her. Jennifer felt a twinge of embarrassment for her friend that Donna was seeing her and her man. Then she realized that the way they were carrying on, the way she was dressed up in that burlesque outfit, it was un-likely that anything would shame Shelly, even if she knew they were there at the window watching her, watching as she held Peters' penis upright in the fingers of one hand, stroking his balls with her other hand, opening her mouth and sticking out her pink tongue-Jenny was incredulous. Could this be Shelly, sticking her tongue out, actually licking the little penis in her ringers, running her tongue round and round its shiny red domed head.
Jennifer felt a hot flash surge through her, coupled with a twinge of faintness again. It was as though she could taste the man's phallus that Shelly was wantonly licking and kissing. And she was enjoying it! That was obvious. The way she was smiling. The slow manipulations of her tongue, licking round and round the flange that separated the foreskin from the pudgy shaft of the man's dork!
"So that's what Don's been up to," whispered Donna.
"Huh?" Jennifer said blankly, her eyes riveted on the erotic pageant Shelly was unwittingly acting out, curling her tongue and rapidly beating the cockhead with it, then putting her lips over it, taking it in her mouth-Jennifer had only done that once and had spat the thing out almost as soon as she had put it in, not liking the way the boy who owned it tried to seize her head and use her mouth like the old over-in-the-milk-bottle-and sucking it, she really was sucking it, teasing it and toying it. From the movement in her cheek, Jennifer knew Shelly was playing her tongue around it, just like a boy sucked and lapped at a tit, she realized.
"Don really likes 'em young. Like, already I'm getting too old for him. You guys aren't even out of high school yet are you?"
"Huh? No, unh-uh." Jennifer was agog at what her friend was doing, her head moving slowly up and down, obviously luxuriating in what she was doing, the slow impassioned subjection of her mouth and all her will to the arousal of the man's penis offered to her.
When Shelly had spilled the beans, Jennifer had imagined her with her lover in a hotel or motel room, discreetly under the covers, quietly, surreptitiously making love. Not like this, in the fantastic get-up, her tits looming through the bra, her pubic brush sticking out between her legs, bending over an older man, holding onto his pecker and doing what she was doing silvery strands of wetness stretching between her lolling red lips and his stallion-erect cock like a lustful web of spidery slime binding her mouth to his cock!
"Christ, look at the head she's giving him-what a fantastic mouth! Is she as good as she looks?"
"Huh?" Jennifer grunted, mesmerized by the wanton pageant taking place in the office.
"You're not gonna tell me you two are friends and she's never laid an eat like that on you?"
"What???
"Christ! Look at her, look at that!"
Jennifer pressed her face to the glass, the blood roaring in her ears as she watched Shelly, who was holding the vivid penis in both her hands and, thrashing her head about like a golden flaming storm, was worrying the head of it which she was greedily sucking and pulling on. Her wild movements left nothing to the imagination. The man on the desk gripped her hair and rolled back and forth, his head thrust back, apparently tormented by the sheer pleasure of what she was doing to him below-the dance of her head atop his pulsing cock.
Jennifer wished she were alone, that Donna would take off. Because her cunt, her own virgin cunt, itched like crazy, like when she was making out and some boy had her stripped to the waist and she was watching him suck on her own breasts, and her cunt began itching, as if it were nibbling at her panties, seeking a way out, hungering for contact with. ... Usually when she got home, she lay on top of her bed and shut her eyes and opened her legs and dug into the soft hairy mush of her vulva with desperate fingers, hooking her innards and stroking the hungry seething cuntal tissue until her need had been relieved. But not now, not with Donna right there. God, she was getting so horny. One minute she was disgusted by what Shelly was doing, watching her friend lick up and down the erect phallus as though it were a candy cane. The next minute she was entranced by the way Shelly screwed her head around, spiralling up and down as if she knew, had learned in the past few days, some secret trick to drive a man out of his nut by screwing his prick into her suctioning mouth. But with every minute Jennifer was unmistakably growing hornier, excited by the flagrant example Shelly was acting out before her eyes.
"Hey!!!" she exclaimed, whipping her head around. Donna was behind her, over her.
"Shhhhhhh!" the older girl hissed. "They'll hear us. Stay where you are. I know you're hot, honey, and I know what to do for you."
"What are you doing!" Jennifer whispered hoarsely, staggered by the fact that the other female's hand was swimming up under her thighs, discovering the sodden patch of her panties, flooded by the cuntal cream that had started to ooze from the feverish cleft in her crotch.
"Just sit tight, honey. There's no reason we can't enjoy ourselves just like they are."
"That's my ... you're touching my ... what're you doing!" Jennifer demanded, unable to believe what was happening.
"There we go!" breathed Donna, tugging Jenny's panties down and pushing them down her thighs, and simultaneously beginning to ply the slushy groove which extruded down between the halves of her buttocks and hams with deft fingers.
"Oh nooooo! No, don't, ohhhhh!" Jennifer rocked back on her heels, her spine stiffening as foreign female fingers expertly separated the dripping clench of her cuntal lips and began tickling her glossy inner channel. "Ohhhhhh! Don't!" she pleaded, unable to take her eyes off Shelly, whose head had begun a rhythmic pistoning up and down, somehow taking half the huge cock into her red-lipped mouth with each downward thrust. But she was afraid the older girl was going to....
"Goddam, honey! You're a virgin. Aren't you! I can feel it! I can feel your little pussy cherry!"
"Oh! Don't! Don't! Let me go! Don't!" Jennifer effectually tried to hit out over her shoulders at the girl who had locked onto her backside, whose middle finger had actually penetrated her secret hole and was tugging painfully at the three-quarter moon of thin membrane which masked her virgin orifice as if to test its strength.
"Just sit tight, honey!" The voice was panting in her ear, hot and heavy like a dog's breath. Donna's other hand had come around her front, somehow gotten under her clothes, was pulling her bra up and off her breasts, leaving it stranded on her chest, seizing a breast, squeezing it, squeezing the nipple out between her fingers until Jennifer thought it was going to squirt milk or blood or both. She couldn't believe the girl had attacked her. But it was true. Her tits were being caressed and kneaded as she hunkered there watching Shelly pulling at the rigid cock with her straining mouth. And the finger was beginning to stir her cuntal divide, churning within her, as knowledgeably, as outrageously as her own had sometimes done.
"Ohhhh! Stop, please stop!" Jennifer begged the girl who had nearly mounted her in the course of the assault.
"Take it easy, honey. Relax and enjoy the show!"
"Ohhhh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jennifer couldn't help but pant in chorusing excitement as her body began to respond to the salient manipulation. Her hips began twitching, her pubis dancing up and down, the fleshy hump of her cunt rubbing itself against the prong of the finger which skewered in and out of the buttery rift under her body.
The other hand had left her breasts and had snatched up her skirt, baring her legs. Then she was being pulled backward, reeling over, toppling onto her haunches, onto Donna's lap, her legs splaying out in front of her, the finger snatched out of her cunt, instantly replaced by the digit of the other hand which burrowed between her thighs and hooked into her while the palm began a steady salacious friction against her hair-covered pubis.
"Come on, honey, you're going to come. I can feel it. Just like Don in there. When his big prick shoots off into your little friend's mouth, you're gonna come too. Aren't you? Getting closer, isn't it? Shall I go faster? Faster?"
"Oooo! Nol Unhh! Ye-yes, no! Yes! ... Yes!" There was no way to escape the mad finger-fucking which continued to violate her vagina with ever-increasing velocity. If she raised her body in the air, it only allowed Donna an unfettered frontal access to plunge her finger wickedly in and out of the tight little orifice of Jennifer's unsullied cunt. If she tried to hunch herself up, her cunt betrayed her by elongating and sticking down with gummy hah-rimmed lips between her hams, inciting the fingers to slide up and down it as if it were a creamy playchute to be traversed and stroked with maddening intensity.
"Oh! Guuuunh! Uuunnnnhhhh!" Jennifer ground her teeth, her hips jumping and jerking like a madwoman's, still unable to take her eyes off Shelly whose head had become a virtual blur of goading sexual copulation, unable to free her body from the storm of passion that was rising and expanding within her, filling her up, clouding her mind, making every nerve in her body electric and erect with apprehension.
"Look at her! Look at her suck! She's gonna pull his cock right off! I wish she would. I wish she'd bite it in hah, hah! Look! Look!"
It was Shelly, that's Shelly, Jennifer kept telling herself as the intoxication of sexual arousal inflamed her body. As long as she kept her gaze on Shelly, on the obscene homage her friend was bending to perform on the outstretched man's body, it made it easier for her to accept the lesbian overtures which had successfully trapped her in a rising tide of physical yearning.
And it was coming on her too-that delicious rush of highly-charged sensations she had unleashed herself but which were so much more intense now that they were being triggered by the older girl's assailing, flying fingers.
Shelby's head was flying up and down and suddenly it stopped, jerked. Jennifer gasped in lust and alarm, wondering if something had happened to make her friend quit her lustful labors so abruptly. She saw Shelly grip the massive penis in both hands. The organ itself seemed to recoil. Shelby's mouth dove for it once more. But not before it had spurted-a great gob of white cum jetting forth and splatting in Shelby's face. Again and again, then the man pulling her down by the hair, forcing her mouth back onto the pumping spasming cockhead, forcing her to take the effusions of his climax, pulling her down savagely, Jennifer realized, stuffing his pounding cock into her mouth as her body writhed and humped in protest, and then the silvery strands of overflowing cum seeping from the comers of her mouth. Sperm drooling from Shelby's mouth-her mouth full of climactic cock! Jennifer's brain reeled, unable to imagine herself in similar circumstances, no idea of what it must be like to be used as a repository for a man's lust but temped by the prospect even as her flesh crawled with the sight of the face and genital limb locked together, still it was the ultimate coupling, the furthest you could go, to go down on a man, did it feel like, oh shit, what was Donna doing, yes, she could if she had to, she'd take Ronnie's cock wouldn't she, yes, be proud to, oh shit, it was too much, too much, her cunt was exploding, she wanted it so badly, wanted a cock, the real thing, just as Shelly had, oh for a cock to stuff up inside me, to rip me open, end this agonizing suspension, great flame licking up through her belly, holding her quim high in the air, seeing the fingers jabbing in and out, migod, seeing the actual finger fuck, squish, slosh, slush, slish, noisily slipping and slapping against the frothing petals of her cunt and then bursting into fire ah over, reaching back to seize Donna, body arching like a fish, belly-up, crying out, sobbing with the impact of the convulsions that hit her, tore through her, wracking her, over and over, her cunt eating the hand that was biting it, leaving her exhausted, senseless, dumb, sprawled and sex-sated, dully knowing now why Shelly had stooped to suck cock-that if that was only Donna fingering her, what further joys lay ahead of her, soon as she was released from the prison of her virginity, shit yes, as soon as she got her strength back she'd fuck any and every man in sight, it felt so good, so goddam good, she had never imagined, so good, so warm and satisfied, her cunt filled to the brimming lips with warmth and relaxation, ready for the world, the new world Shelly had led her to.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"But isn't it awful when he makes you take it in your mouth?"
"Unn-uh. Oh, I thought it would be, but I've changed my mind now. I, well, I guess I just learned that I really love to suck him off. You know how it is toward the end of a game when we're doing one of those cannon cheers and everybody puts their attention on us and you feel like you've got the whole stadium focused on you, right in the palm of your hand?"
"Yeah...."
"Well, that's how it is to do that. I mean, it's like all of him is focused on you, I don't know. It's really animal and all. I never used to dig the idea...."
"What about, you know, the stuff?"
"Oh, it's hard to get down, but it doesn't taste bad or anything. It's really exciting. I thought my head was going to come off. Listen to this: right at the moment when he came and I took it and the stuff and all, I had this climax, I'm not kidding you, it was just like he was in my cunt, coming. I could feel it. Like it was opening and closing. It was too much. I never felt anything like that before."
"But that underwear...."
"Yeah, isn't it wild. It's like our costumes, only better. What if I wore these panties under my skirt at the championship?"
"No! You wouldn't!"
"Wouldn't the crowd flip out? Like this?" Shelly jumped and down, imitating herself giving a cheer, then jumped high in the air, thrusting her abdomen forward and waving imaginary pom-poms in her hands. The bush of her pussy thrust through the slit in the panties, giving Jennifer a momentary glimpse of her pink pussy tissue.
"You'd start a riot, Shel!"
"That's right, boy, I'd like to, too."
"But it makes you such a, I don't know, it makes you look like such a tramp."
"So what? What do you think we look like in our uniforms? Nuns? That's the whole point, isn't it, to look sexy? How come you became a cheerleader? Same reason I did, you can't bullshit me!"
"Yeah, but there's-"
There was a knock and the door to the hotel suite opened. Peters entered, immaculately dressed in a white linen suit, followed close behind by a smirking Donna in her mini-skirted maid's outfit. He smiled approvingly at the sight of Shelly still in her cutaway bra and panties.
"Here's the virgin!" Donna announced, her eyes gleaming for Shelly.
"Where? What're you talking about. She's no more a virgin than you are," Peters said, mistaking the object of the maid's remarks.
"No, this one," Donna responded, pointing to Jennifer, who blushed as she sat upright on the lavishly upholstered sofa.
"What is this?" He demanded of Shelly. "Have I got to pluck your friend's cherry, too? What do you think this is-a stud farm. I run a respectable establishment here," he intoned, pushing Shelly backwards until she arched up her naked nipples for his tongue to tease.
"Hey, not so rough! You'll bite them off!" Shelly said playfully, trying to push his eager mouth away from her lewdly pointing mammaries.
"I'll do better than that!" he answered. "I'm going to cut them off and mount them on a plaque in my office."
"You better stuff them first! Otherwise, they'll get old and sag right off the wall," laughed Donna, making motions with her hands to indicate aged dugs hanging way down the front of her body.
"They're not going to sag!" Shelly defended her bosom, "unless you keep sucking on them and pull them loose."
"Well, listen," Peters said, letting his newly-trained mistress go, and eyeing Jennifer who shrank from the coarse humor and banter of the older man and the two other girls. "I think we've got it all set up. The banquet's going to be here, and ail you kiddies and your friends will be able to ruin me in one shot."
"Great!" Shelly clapped her hands. "Isn't that far out, Jenn! A victory banquet right here. Boy, what a party that'll be!"
"Yeah, if we win!" Jennifer pointed out.
"Hell yes, you're going to win, even if I have to hang Donna like a flag on the goal posts to make sure your team runs in the right direction. Well, I've got a quick half hour to spend before I go down and greet the guests at the evening show. Who's going to take on my cock this time around?"
"Jenny, do you want to?" Shelly asked hesitantly, not wanting to push her friend into deflowerment but at the same time wanting Jennifer to join the ranks of the true women.
"Naw, listen, I don't have time to pick cherries. Besides, I feel like something different. Listen, you sit here," he indicated to Shelly, "right opposite your friend here, so your knees touch, that's it." Shelly sat down, facing Jennifer, their knees almost together, wondering what he had in mind.
"Okay, sweetheart," he motioned to Donna. "Get aboard and show me your sweet little asshole."
Before the two startled girls knew what was happening, Donna had sat between them, on their knees, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and leaning back and raising her legs in the air.
"Hold my legs apart!" Donna barked. Shelly took one leg, holding the thigh close to her body and looking at Jennifer until her friend got the idea, Peters had dropped his trousers and stepped up close to the three girls.
"Look at that!" he beamed. "What a sight! What a sight for sore balls!"
Jennifer followed his gaze and looked down between the upthrust legs that she and Shelly were holding apart. Donna's crotch lay upright, like a split pink fruit, a long crescent maw of ragged feminine intimacy.
"Bend her back, double 'em up!" Peters commanded, shucking off his boxer shorts and revealing his swiftly rising phallus, a sight that made Jennifer gulp in embarrassed astonishment.
Shelly flashed on what he meant and pushed Donna's leg down over her body, urging Jennifer to do the same, doubling the maid's figure over until it reminded her of the posture she had assumed when Peters had first fucked her.
Jennifer saw that Peters was looking at the exact same place, only now she saw, to her amazement, not the ruffled slot of Donna's cuntal fissure, but the bright red crinkled date of the girl's anus lying in the delicate valley formed by her straining, flattened buttocks.
Peters strode up and dropped to one knee, winking at Shelly. He pursed his lips and bending forward, planted a mass of shining saliva on the little prune-like orifice. Then he reared back, holding his swollen penis with one hand, curling the fingers of his other hand in the mat of pubic hair that sloped down toward Donna's belly from the promontory of fleshly delights her body offered.
Jennifer stared in disbelief as the long, livid masculine member was guided to the tiny unnatural receptacle which looked hollow and open from the position of Donna's pretzelled form. She gasped as the bludgeon-domed cockhead mashed against the little hole. The creased iris of the sphincter was the most naked-looking thing she had ever seen. Now the most barbarous act she had ever heard of was being performed before her eyes and she was assisting. She shot a glance at Shelly, but her friend was too busy peering down at the un-likely meeting of the bloated prickhead and the delicate-looking wrinkled bud of Donna's pristine, hairless hole.
"Ooof!" Donna gasped, wriggling atop the knees of the two younger girls who held her body bent over for the victimization Peters intended. "Wet it more, baby, it's too dry, too dry," Donna panted.
Peters held his hand out under Shelby's face. "Spit!" he commanded. Shelly worked up all the moisture in her mouth and drooled it out into his cupped hand. He held it under Jennifer's mouth. She worked her tongue and jaws, staring at Shelly, her mouth dry all of a sudden, finally summoning up a little saliva and spitting it into the man's hand. He laughed at her discomfiture and withdrawing his penis, smeared the female lubrication around the defenseless socket of Donna's asshole. Then he centered his prick again, shocking Jennifer with the spectacle of his seemingly enormous foreskin jamming against the small circle of his bestial design. He swivelled his hips round and round until his empurpled glans glistened with a coating of saliva. Jennifer gagged and felt faint, swallowing hard to fight off the wave of nausea prompted by the efforts at coupling that were taking place under her very virgin nose.
Peters had cupped Donna's buns in his hands, lifting her slightly so that the upper half of her anal ring caught on the smooth sloping hood of his penile tip. He pushed forward, circling at the same time, moving like an old-fashioned apple-corer, until both girls witnessed the gradual yielding of the impossibly small hole and the animal-like penetration of it that Peters accomplished.
Donna was gasping, her ringers clenching the shoulders of the two girls who cradled her body between them. Peters huffed and puffed, but stopped when he had lodged his bulbous glans securely in her outraged hole. Then he moved back and forth, teasing her, torturing her by pulling on his prick, moving with it the straining noose of puckered anus which had been reamed open to a fine reddish ring which clamped down on his penis, making the veins stand out even more vividly for the benefit of the unworldly young girls.
"He's ... you're ... He's fucking her in the ass!" Jennifer whispered in a shocked tone, as if no one but her companion and fellow cheerleader could hear her.
"No shit!" Peters roared, enormously amused by Jennifer's confusion and suddenly pushing home his rigid prick in the humiliated hole that Donna's backside had proffered for his pleasure.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Donna whined, her head back, her teeth grinding with the pain of his entrance.
The two girls looked down stunned as her anus enlarged, jacked open, pryed to an ever widening circle as Peters rammed his merciless prick into her bowel inch by tormenting inch.
"Uhhhhhhhhhggh!" Donna gasped.
Shelly shook her head. She'd never seen anything like it. Somehow that same penis which had slit her cherry like tissue paper, which had been wedged down her throat nearly to the point of suffocation, raping her body, had now sunk into Donna's rectum to the very hilt, Peters' swarthy pubic hair grinding against the pale moons of Donna's upturned buttocks.
"Hold on to her now!" he instructed, starting to pull out of her fiercely clasping body.
"Yowwwwwwwwww-ohhhhhh!" Donna choked as her anus was pulled up and out from her crack, like a small cratered cone, pulled away from her body by the monstrosity of Peter's prick which now emerged, inch by veined inch, before the girls' eyes.
"Too dry-too dry!" Donna gasped. Alert to what must be the incredible sufferings of the girl lying half in her lap, Shelly leaned over and drooled more saliva on Peters' half-buried instrument of lust.
"Come on, Jenny, help me wet it!" Jennifer leaned over. But her throat was raspingly dry, tight and choked off as if the penis which was lodged in the olive pit below her were entering her own body, her own mouth even! She merely stared aghast as Shelly cooperated, even to the point of smearing her saliva around and under the cudgel of Peters' befouled penis.
"Okay, baby!" he sang out, toppling over the three of them at the same time and driving his hot wet manhood deep into the wild gorge of Donna's receptive, slavish body. He began cornholing her in earnest, driving in and out, his bristling balls swinging to and fro, clapping up against the symmetrical melons of the buttocks he had split wide apart as he drove his penis deeply into the pliant pink ring that nestled so nakedly beneath the tempting fur-tufted abyss of Donna's twat, which itself bounced up and down as he lunged harder and harder, nearly pushing her out of the cradling arms and legs of the other two girls, his eyes shining with lust, paying no attention to Donna's cries and instructions, swinging his body round and round so that Sherry and Jennifer would have the benefit of seeing his cock churn almost visibly the feminine secrets that lay beneath the gasping anal ring of her deeply stuffed hole.
"Give it to me! Finger fuck me!" Shelly heard the desperate words but it wasn't until she felt Donna's fingers tighten like claws on her shoulder that she came to and realized what the girl wanted. She lifted her hand, uncertain how to accomplish the entrance, viewing the chasm of Donna's hair-rimmed pussy from the side. Then, as Peters drew back, nearly pulling the object of his lust off her lap, Shelly saw the tear-shaped inner opening of Donna's ragged, inviting cuntal aperture. Her fingers-two of them-went in naturally, slithering into the pulpy passion pit and through the finely-fleshed vaginal opening, and then in and out, in and out, in and out, she was jamming her fingers in and out of Donna's cunt, somehow trying to make up for the pain of Peters' penetration by masturbating the sodden pussy as effectively as she knew how.
Jennifer's own vulva instantly began tingling as she watched the hitherto unimaginable sight of Shelly manipulating another woman's sex organs-plunging her fingers up to the last knuckle as if grasping for something that was sinking in the churning steaming mash of Donna's twat.
"God, I can feel it! I can feel his cock pumping inside!" Shelly glowed. "I can feel it! I can feel it!"
"Here, lemme, lemme!" Jennifer suddenly clamored, her last line of resistance and modesty fading before Shelby's excitement. She pulled Shelly's hand slurpingly out of the groin and dove into it herself, driving a sharp cry of pain from Donna as she tried to jam all her fingers in at once.
"Oh God, it's true! I can feel it, too! Fantastic! Fantastic!" Jennifer chanted, elated at the double-thrill of probing with her fingers in another woman's open roiling cuntal rims and delving into the buttery depths where she could feel the buffeting of Peters' prick rampaging in the adjacent rearward channel.
It was all too easy to imagine that instead of the unthinkable recess of the older girl's rectum, Peters' long vivid lance was actually gouging its way through the rubbery tube of a stretching vagina-her own vagina, her twat, the virgin pocket that lurked innocent and unused but burning with desire under the fur of her heaving belly.
"Faster, honey, faster, oh, I'm coming, you're making me come, or fuckitfeelssofuckinggoooooood!" Donna wailed, seizing the startled Jennifer's wrist and helping her pump her fingers in and out of the greasy palpitating passage they had been worming around in.
Jennifer sat stupefied, watching her hand dart in and out of the delicious mucky slot that arched between Donna's twitching hams. She could feel the nubbin of the contorted girl's clitoris, the hard little tongue-like projection, rub ecstatically against her finger, at the same time feeling the leviathan tremors of the man's penis barrelling through the contiguous canal.
"Fasterfasterfasterohshitohfuckfasterfaster!" Donna implored her, writhing in the double grip of pain and pleasure upon the two girls' laps. Shelly thought the iron fingers were going to close right through the flesh of her shoulder as Donna's body lifted up in the air, gyrating on the befouled prong of Peters' pistoning phallus, her belly rolling with the spasms of orgasmic fulfillment she had attained by the friction of the dumbfounded Jennifer's fingers.
"Ohhhhhhgodohhhhhhhh!" she sighed, collapsing wearily, seeming half-dead but for the jogging motion of her body that Peters' thrusting imparted.
"Goddam!" Peters exclaimed, shaking his head and stilling the penile beast that had been raging in her body. "She just goes out like a light when you bring her off. Unnh!" he grunted, pulling his prick from the tight date of her expellacious hole.
"Jenny," Shelly said inquiringly, casting her eyes toward the looming erect rod.
Her friend looked back with horrified eyes, shaking away the suggestion. "I couldn't," she mouthed silently, "no, I just couldn't."
But Shelly was nodding approvingly, saying "Yes you can" with her glittering eyes, the old competitiveness that their extracurricular glory nurtured inspiring her with a fiendish determination to see Jennifer go down in the way of ah flesh.
"How about it, what's-your-name?" Don demanded, picking up on Shelly's message.
"Oh no, please, I, I just couldn't," Jennifer stammered.
"Big girl like you? C'mon! C'mere," he said, taking her by the arm and lifting her almost bodily out of the chair in a tangle of limbs and bodies before the three females separated. Jennifer shrank from him and his foul phallus, but his tack had suddenly. changed. He slipped an arm around her waist and began brushing back her hair with one hand, soothingly murmuring to her and kissing her face lightly like the most delicate and ardent of lovers. Automatically, the reaction imprinted by a thousand late-night movies and television serials, Jennifer tilted her face up to be kissed. She couldn't fight the reflex: when a man kissed you like that, you gave in, passively, adoringly, well-if not adoringly, mutely. Gradually all impressions of Peters and his sodomizing prick faded from her mind as he kept gently caressing her and raining feathery kisses on her eyelids, her cheeks and around her mouth.
"Go on Jenny, it's so good. You'll wonder why you waited so long to give yourself to him, really you will, it's so outasight!" Shelly argued convincingly.
"Why have you waited, little Jenny? Beautiful little Jenny. You want it, I know you want it, you've been imagining my prick between your legs, driving into you, filling up that vacuum inside you, the place where you're all hollow, the hole that aches, isn't it true? Isn't it, Jenny?"
"Ohhhhh," Jenny moaned, going limp in his arms, wanting to be like Shelly, brave enough to break through and master her body, to conquer its desires and the demands that plagued her-had been plaguing her-for so long.
"Shelly, get some water and wash my cock. I want it clean and nice for Jennifer's sweet virgin little box," Peters said.
Shelly leapt up and ran to get a moist towel from the bathroom. Donna looked up eagerly, anxious to see her little ward bite the bullet, knowing full well how Peters valued his virgins and how zealously he collected them.
"Beautiful Jenny, I'm not going to hurt you. You want to come back and see me, don't you. You and Shelly can come here ah summer, have free run of the hotel. You don't want to save it any more. You'll be going off to college and you'll save it and save it, and you'll wonder," he murmured, brushing her ear with his lips and turning his body so that Shelly could discreetly and adoringly bathe his limber penis with the wet towel, "who it's going to be, waiting, always waiting for Mr. Wonderful, and each time you'll stop yourself and wait for the next one, and they'll pass you by, Jenny, yes, one by one they'll pass you up and go to real women and leave you with your virginity, your useless little cherry, and the years will go on, and eventually, dear Jenny, you'll end up a spinister!"
"Nooooo!" she crooned, leaning against him, savoring the feel of his body as it pressed against her breasts. She didn't want to be a virgin all her life, yet she knew that what he was saying was true, that she likely would fail the test each time it presented itself, and then where would she be???
"I'll do it," he was saying. "I'll take your virginity, Jenny, look at me, look at me." He lifted her young face by the chin, looking down into the limpid orbs of her credulous eyes with his own, giving her the full effect of his handsome mature masculinity, gradually wilting her ability to stare back.
"Ask me, Jenny," he urged her. "Ask me to make love to you, to relieve you of your virginity. Ask me."
She looked despairingly around the room, fixing her eyes on Shelly's excited face. Shelly was nodding rapidly, staring back at her not only with encouraging eyes but with the brazen dusky set of tauntingly naked nipples that protruded from the lewdly cut brassiere.
"Ask me, Jenny, all you have to do is ask me."
"Yes," she whispered, wanting it to be over, wanting it all to happen as effortlessly and quickly as his words implied. "Yes," she repeated, "yes, take me, take me."
"Are you sure?" he asked, mounting all the authority he could muster in his voice while inside he was roaring with laughter: these hick country kids, he couldn't get over it. Try and lay them-never! But let them think you were doing them a favor or simply meet their price and they went down like milkweed in a strong wind.
"Yes," she replied artlessly, all the frustrated sexual desire of her post-adolescent years welling up in her body, surging to ripe readiness in the crucible of her virgin pelvic cradle, against which his three-quarters erect penis was rubbing tantalizingly. "Yes, please, now, I want to, I'm sure, I'm really sure."
"Groovy!" exclaimed Shelly, wanting to jump up and shout her happiness on Jennifer's behalf to the world but stilled by a sideways censuring glance from Peters who was laying Jenny down on the brocaded broad bed.
"Are-are they going to, to watch?" Jennifer asked, floating on the bed as though it were an air mattress on ocean surf, feeling tremendously lightened, as though the act she had just contracted for had just happened rather than approaching her in the manifestation of Peters' rising, rockhard cock.
"We're going to be right here, honey," Donna said soothingly, climbing up on the bed next to Jennifer and motioning to Shelly to take up a position on her other side. Peters was already unfastening the sexy little outfit Jennifer had come to the hotel in, peeling the clothes from her lithe succulent body, barely able to contain his excitement and lust.
"Oh, I wish it was me again," Shelly said plaintively, really meaning it, reliving in her mind the drama of the desktop which had transpired only a week ago at the hands of the same man she had led her best friend to.
"It doesn't hurt as much as they say in Adult Facts Class, does it," Jennifer asked, her face shining angelically.
"No, well, just for a second, but then it feels so good, it's so divine when he really gets up inside you...."
She was interrupted by an oooing sound from Jennifer as Peters, having taken off the redolent panties with a grimace, bent between the unsuspecting girl's thighs and ruffling up her pubic bush with his nose, began lubricating her sex-which was still encrusted with the effusions Donna had launched earlier-with his tongue, plying the hot damp fissure between her velvety firm thighs until it softened and oozed the love creams which her body had been storing for so long.
"Ohhhh, myyyy! Oh, Shel, it's delicious, oh it feels so good," Jennifer chortled, actually mistaking, in her feverish expectation, Peters' mouthing ministrations for his assault.
"Open your legs, honey," Donna chimed in, taking the opportunity of Peters' lovemaking to herself caress the dreamy body that lay at the center of then mutual attentions. "Spread 'em wide."
Shelly and Donna each began running their hands up and down the girl's shivering body, stroking her from the shapely knobs of her kneecaps to the shallow erotic saucer of her taut belly, loosening the tendons and nervous muscles which framed the portals through which Peters was positioning himself to pass.
Jennifer lay with her head thrown back, her jaws working emptily, as if gasping for air, reeling under the impact of the mouth that gobbled at the hair-limmed tender mush of her sacred slot. Her hands roamed the air aimlessly, inarticulately, one of them brushing the naked nipple which burgeoned forth from Shelby's open-faced brassiere. Jenny opened her eyes to see Shelly smiling down at her. She returned her hand tentatively to the soft mammary flesh and Shelly nodded in approval. Jennifer caressed the soft lump of nippled tissue, growing bolder, tossing in the fire that Peters was igniting between her legs. She took her friend's pink nipple between her fingers and began rolling it. Her head turned the other way. She saw Donna looking down admiringly at her perfect body. Her other hand brushed up the groove that ran in a shadowy line up from Donna's navel to her breastplate. It bumped Donna's heavy teats, causing them to bobble. She gripped one of the pendant creamy pears. The nipple was bigger than Shelby's. She began teasing both nipples with her fingers, turning her head from side to side, watching each of the breasts that hung above her, watching the nipples erect in her fingers, feeling them grow tough and turgid, erecting within her grasp just as her own breast tips were hardening, tingling, itching with the desire that was eating through her body. She wanted to clamp her legs around Peters' face, to hold his mouth at her groin, to keep him there forever, stirring her twat with the thick probe of his lascivious tongue. But her two helpmates were caressing her legs now, rubbing the silky flesh of her inner thighs, adding to the hard knot which tightened in her belly with every minute, locking her in the grip of mindless abandon and sexual yearning.
Peters detached his mouth from her passion pit and looked down in satisfaction at the tempting female form that tossed below him, her hips rising and falling, thrusting the dark gash of her craven cunt up and down. He couldn't hold back any longer. He came up over her, kneeling between the widespread thighs, arching over her sculpted, panting form, aiming the head end of his aching prick at the juicy target that moved, fully primed, like a restless hairy mouth beneath his manhood.
"Here we go, dear Jenny, here we go, baby," he announced softly, glancing at each of the girls at her side, silently warning them to be ready for the cataclysm he was about to launch on her unsuspecting body. The filament hairs of her pussy grazed his glans, making his entire penis flex and jump with excitement.
With a deftly sinister move he stabbed his bulbous phallic mushroom into the gasping cavity of her outer cunt, surprised at how easily it yielded, at the suction her body seemed to exert upon it, drawing him in and up until his foreskin felt the tightly banded little hole of her actual cherry-gated vaginal opening.
He bent down, mouthing her breasts. Her fingers tightened on the mammaries of the girls on both sides of her. He rode with her briefly, letting the inflated cushion of his prick head stir her slimy pit, revolving round and round like a huge ball bearing in the luscious socket, completely opening and preparing the fatty gorge of her outer sheathing lips. Then he rose up, arresting her wanton movements with the pressure of his penis on the straining membrane of her hymen.
"Push, Jenny, push!" he urged her.
"Ooooo-owwwwwwww-uuuunh!" she protested, her buttocks squirming down into the bed, suddenly trying to get out from under the impaling inevitability of his urgent organ.
"Push! Push!" he demanded.
"Push against it, Jen!" Shelly chorused.
"Push against his cock!" Donna chimed in.
His cock! That was a man's cock in her throbbing virgin cunt. A cock. He was going to fuck her!
Jennifer panicked and began thrashing about. But there was no way out. Everywhere her hands smote against the pillowing puffs of the others' breasts. Writhe as she might, she couldn't disengage her body from the spit of the penis pressing hurtfully, painfully against the fragile virgin tissue between the slippery lips of her jerking vulva. Her hardest lunge only succeeded in half-hooking the head of the cock between her legs with the crescent hood of her hymen. She wriggled, babbling in protest, trying to get off the barb of his cock. Too late! He was pushing down with all his mght. Hands were pinning her arms, pressing on her breasts, holding her sweating thighs wide apart.
"Yaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" she sirened as a hideous ripping sound tore through her body and a knife-hot searing pain paralyzed her briefly. Then there was an agonizing rasping sensation deep in her groin. She looked about wildly. But the others, Peters included, were craning their necks, looking down over the hairy pad between her legs, at the stout bludgeon of his corded phallus sinking remorselessly into her body, disappearing into the acid pain she felt in her belly, until finally she felt a different pressure on her pubis and knew that it was his abdomen, realized that he had torn her open and sunk his loathsome prick in her to the hilt, wedging deep with her, scoring away the last bleeding shreds of her sundered virginal treasure.
He was moving again, a sliding pressure against the top of her cunt, massaging the gristle-like lump of feminine flesh which lurked just under the vise-like perforation of her wounded hole. And as he moved, the scarlet agony was transformed to a golden streak of pleasure, the first contact of her delicate clitoral divot with the pistoning broad bulk of a masculine organ.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Jennifer groaned, rolling her eyes up until the whites showed. But this time her face wasn't contorted in pain. It was a lewd mask of pleasure, her teeth bared, her tongue waving in the air, her back arched, her belly tucking to accommodate the battering ram of inflexible iron phallus that was reaming back into her, pulling out, sliding in to the bloodflecked slippery sheath, pulling out, boring in again.
"Alihhhh! Aaaahlmhhh! Ohhhhh! Aaaahhhh! Farrrfuckingggout!" she sang, slinging her arms around the bodies of the two other girls and pulling them down until all four naked forms were writhing on the bed in a tumult of mouths, limbs and eager grasping hands and genitals, united in a cluster around the surging armature of the man and his newly-indoctrinated victim whaling away below.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"That's right, you heard right, the Panthers have just won the state championship! Twenty-one to twenty and a masterful display of gridiron tenacity all the way. With only minutes to go the Panthers came from behind with a spectacular fifty-four yard run and successful field goal, before a cheering crowd of thirty-three thousand fans. We repeat once again-the Bundy Panthers have just won the state championship. Twenty-one to twenty. The WJIZ good guys salute the pigskin powerhouse of Bundy High School, their coaching staff, and the cheerleading squad which not only mounted the most spectacular display of exhortations seen in this state but whom many credit with encouraging the team to make that last triumphant push when it looked like curtains. A salute from the good guys to all the all-American boys and girls at Bundy High and don't forget, tonight, at the Saferest Hotel, a victory banquet, honoring our returning heroes. Yours truly, Rusty Kolun and all the good guys will be there. You be there too, to celebrate the state championship, just now concluded...."
Gene Shoat switched off the car radio. He and his wife sped along in the new car he had purchased just a week ago on the strength of the ad contract he had cemented with Peters and the Saferest chain. Yep, a new car, a longer vacation this year, two new television sets-both color, a power lawn mower, and new clothes all around for the family! He had really cleaned up. Just like the team. You couldn't keep good men down. He knew that now.
He reached across the seat and squeezed Margie's hand. She looked so pretty in her sundress. He almost felt young enough to turn off the highway and take his wife parking, remembering how, years ago, they had borrowed his uncle's old Ford and gone petting. He was glad the world was like it was now. The kids had plenty of places to go now. He'd seen them sitting around the Froster Monster Drive-In after school and at night, after the movie. That was good. While they were all together socializing, they weren't up to any trouble. Lots of people thought the fast-food joints which went up almost overnight, completely prefabricated, were eyesores and blights on the town. But Gene knew better. If you didn't give the kids a place to go in their cars, they'd all be out in the hills and farm roads getting into each other's pants.
He hoped the victory banquet would set a precedent. Maybe the Saferest could make room for the kids as well as the conventions. Give them an outlet for their energies, what with its country-club-like facilities, its dance hall. What with summer coming on and the kids with nothing to do-no jobs this summer, that was for sure on account of the war and all-it'd be good to know they were accounted for. He'd have to talk to Peters about that. But first, a look at the Hotel. In spite of the fact that he'd landed the contract, and that Shelly and some of her friends had been spending weekends out at the hotel, he hadn't even seen it since Peters had re-opened it. It sure did look like paradise, looming up alongside the highway as he slowed for the exit. He saw Margie out of the comer of his eye, her attention glued to the imposing complex. Hell, maybe he'd give them all an early vacation and just move out here for the week. Shelly could show him around, after all. What a dreamboat she was growing up to be. His heart had nearly burst with pride that afternoon, watching her perform with the other cheerleaders as the game wore on under the hot sun. She was really turning into a woman. Every time they jumped up and she flashed that scarlet badge of underpanties, he could feel the enthusiasm ripple through the stadium. Quite a little piece, his daughter. Hadn't she bowled over Peters. Gotten him completely under her daddy's thumb just by showing off her talents. Yessir, she was going to go a long way, he was going to see to that. He'd have to spend more time with her, teach her to be conscious of her good looks and other charms now that she was getting on towards college-age. Not that she should go to college. She could have any number of glamorous careers without a lot more schooling. Hell, all the college kids did these days was stay up on drugs and burn down their campuses. She wasn't headed for that, no sir! He saw her all decked out in a pretty uniform, maybe a hostess of some kind, winning beauty contests, or maybe a showgirl on television-lots of money there! But she had to learn to look out for herself. Being a kid in high school and flashing her ass during a football game was one thing. But she had to learn to be more responsible now! Her body was just about her most valuable asset and he'd have to help her appreciate its value. Never show your hand in the marketplace until the market is ready to come your way. He'd learned that a long time ago in the selling field and it was a lesson he wanted to pass on now to his daughter, so she'd really make out and get the most for her good looks and blooming perfect figure.
* * *
The hotel's older guests were cowering in their rooms. The young had taken over. Arriving by the busload and in bright convertibles from the game, piling into the pool fully clothed, racing around the grounds leaving trails of clothing and crushed beer cans, they had occupied the hotel complex and were celebrating with a ferocity that made the adults blanch.
Walter had been tracking Carla, annoyed at the natural pairing-off that occupied the rest of the boisterous happy kids. He wanted her now but he couldn't pull her free from the footballers and her friends, in spite of the dark eye he kept giving her, voicing silent threats and gesturing ominously at her, only to be repeatedly laughed off.
Peters, however, had picked her out early in the afternoon. Watching from his balcony overlooking the grounds as the kids poured in, he was immediately struck by the appearance of Carla's dark sensuality. To heh with Shelly and the other kids, he thought. That was the one. He had found her after the victory supper, turning his back on the banquet hah which promised to set him back a few bucks, he came upon her in one of the corridors. They had exchanged one look, he mentally undressing her dark-tinted body and imagining the opulence of her swarthy beaver, she struck by his handsome presence, his silent, suggestive and flattering stare. Without a word he had linked her arm in his and steered her through the hotel, past open doorways leading into rooms full of frolicking, drunken teenagers, up to his secure roost of an office.
He took out his wallet and counted out five crisp ten-dollar bills and laid them on the desk. Then he started undressing. Carla looked at the money and at the man. She didn't consider herself a real practicing prostitute, but fifty bucks was too much to simply pass up, particularly when she thought she knew what she wanted and what he needed.
She sat on the edge of the desk, covering the newly minted bills with her hand and swinging her legs apart to let him see the scarlet stripe of her panties which she hadn't changed out of after the game.
He was undressed in a flash, coming at her, catching her as she started to recline on her back and spread her legs for him, pushing her panties off her hips.
"Wait a minute," he said hoarsely, "leave 'em on. I want to eat you first, right through those little panties." The same scarlet undies he had first seen Shelby's sweet cunt slung in. He slipped his arms around the gleaming tapering columns of Carla's thighs and held them up in the air and apart, bending between them. Her panties smelled of sweat and musk-a rich, heady, redolent aroma that excited him immediately. He knelt in front of the desk on which she lay back and began clamping his mouth here and there against the thin fabric of her panties, hearing the zz-zz-zz-sound of suction as he sucked at her soft rippling cunt.
In minutes the narrow band of her panties was drenched and he pulled his head back, able to see almost every detail of her outer cuntal tissues in bold relief where the flimsy material clung to her vulva. Then he reapplied his mouth between her hot thighs and began sucking in earnest, wanting to drain her cuntal canal of all its intoxicating juices, to strain the effusions of her lust through the sieve of her scarlet panties and drink it down the way he made her young colleagues milk his prick and swallow every last drop of his pulsing come.
This one was a wildcat! ... Her nails digging at his shoulders and scalp, her thighs squeezing his head so tightly he thought his skull would burst, her belly pumping forcefully up and down, grinding the mushy sopping silk of her crotch against his greedy mouth, making him drunk and blind with the ebbing richness of her young ebullient access way.
Outside the window, on the balcony, prowling the walkways and fire escapes of the hotel, Walt fumed. But not for long. He noticed the microphone on Peters desk. Linked to the P.A.? Yes, he spotted the cable leading to the junction box on the wall. Slipping around the comer of the office, he found it. Pried off the exterior cover with the screwdriver blade of his scouting knife. Began detaching the wires and rerouting the connections, his brain burning with demonic intensity and underhanded intention.
* * *
Donna's sharp eyes had served her well. She had sized each of the footballers up when they had arrived late in the afternoon, taking up a station outside the bathhouse to which they had been directed for showering and changing out of their uniforms into street clothes. She had been excited about the possibilities of the event ever since it had been announced, vowing to follow her boss' example and try on one of these young studs just as he tried on every underage female he could get his hands and cock on. One by one the heroes had emerged and she had spotted him: Ronnie, the big ace, the massively-built football star. But what had appealed to her was the lump in his pants, the obvious bulge underneath the crotch of his chinos, advertising the very item she wanted.
She had bided her time, checking him out, waiting until after the riotous banquet had ended and the youthful dissipation of the evening had begun. She picked up a key to a room overlooking the court and tracked him as he moved about the grounds, not failing to note that as the boys and girls paired off, he remained alone, solitary, almost anti-social. Then she made her move.
"Going home? The party's not over," she smiled sweetly, nearly colhding with him as he headed away from the festivities.
"Oh, gosh, pardon me. Yeah, I got to be getting home, I start my summer job selling magazines tomorrow."
"Is that right. How about a little extra celebration in honor of the game today?"
"Huh?" Walt responded, straining his eyes in the darkness to be sure he was seeing right, sure that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, that he was really seeing this broad hike up her miniskirt teasingly, revealing to his astonished eyes the fact that she was wearing no underwear-except for the rich profusion of pubic hair that lay nestled in the dark shadows between her legs.
"C'mon," Donna said, dropping her skirt and taking him by the hand, hardly able to wait, wanting to take off his pants and have him right there. He followed her dumbly, unbelieving, as she led him to the room she had picked out, motioned him into it, and shut the door behind her. He turned around, staring at her. With one quick gesture, she had loosed the fastenings of her sexy maid's uniform, dropping it to the floor, standing fully naked in front of him, blocking his exit.
"You're kidding!" He swallowed heavily. Ever since that afternoon with Carla, he had scarcely been able to keep his giant cock in his pants, so intensely did it burn and itch with every fleeting recollection of how he had stuffed it into her.
"I'm not kidding, but you better be for real," she replied, dropping to her knees in front of him and starting to undo his pants. He stared down, watching her quick feminine fingers loose his belt and fly. It seemed as though his erection had come on instantly, pushing his drawers out in a white bulge as she pulled his pants down.
"Goddam!" Donna exclaimed, pulling the waistband of his shorts out to the limit in order to free them of the massive encumbrance underneath.
"Goddamgoddamgoddam!" she swore as his naked truth was revealed to her lust-glazed eyes, sprouting out thick and long, big as a rolling pin-the kind they used for weekly baking down in the main kitchens.
She locked her fingers around its trunk, barely getting both hands around it. Then she pulled down on the sheath of skin, making it draw tight down over the heavily veined and corded shank of the member. His tennis ball-sized foreskin went shiny from the strain, turning up slightly, the single slit eye winking open and oozing a whitish, large drop of seminal fluid.
She leaned forward, smiling at him, then stuck out her tongue, waved its pink extremity around in the air a little, then wiped the sexual drop of fluid from his gland with a swipe that made his knees go weak.
"Oh shit!" he grunted, automatically thrusting forward with his hips, wanting to bury his cock in the soft heat of her female body, incensed by the way she was slowly coating his outsized organ with her tongue, licking and kissing it as though it were the most precious thing in the world to her.
Then she was spreading his legs, forcing his feet apart. He looked across the room and saw their reflections in a full-length mirror: his own upright form, half-naked; the looming staff of his manhood, glistening from her applied saliva; and her body-the arch of her spine, the beginning of the fine crack that disappeared down between the moons of her butt, and her headher head! It was nuzzling between his hoary thighs. She was going for his nuts. He looked in the mirror again, seeing her body twisted around, hunching under him, her mouth opening, her tongue coming up, licking at his balls. He could watch the whole thing in the mirror. Her mouth craning open, the tongue pinkly darting about his scrotum. Then slowly her mouth coming up-the liquid heat of her mouth-tenderly grasping one of his balls, pulling it into the delicious grotto of her mouth. Goddam, it ached so much! He didn't dare move for fear that she'd pull the nut right out of its drooping sac. Slowly she alternated, ball by ball, pulling one then the other down into her mouth, pushing them around with her tongue, playing oral pocket pool with him-with his balls! Sucking on his balls, and as she did so, she was humming, making guttural sounds in her throat which were vibrating around his balls, churning them to a frenzy, like a tuning fork laid against the egg-shaped spheres that hung slackly, but were boiling up inside with masculine foam and froth, charging his cock with the hardest hard-on he had ever had in his life. And he staggered, bringing her with him, unable to take his eyes off the mirror as she duck-walked beneath his body, her face buried in his crotch, slurping and sucking at his nuts, back, back toward the bed that he knew he was going to take her on, with a dedication he had never projected toward any other woman in his life. This slut, this mysterious whore, this strange young woman-was he going to fuck her till she croaked!!!
* * *
Jennifer lay in one room of the adjoining double suite, naked, her youthful body spread prostrate for Tom. He was licking her dry. They had already fucked for the first time, she on top of him as his sprained leg, bound up in heavy elastic bandages, stretched out under her bobbing body. Then the shower. Where he had bent her over, taking her dog-style. Yipping and yapping, clowning with each other, Jennifer hung on to the handrail in the bath with both hands as Tom slung his dripping cock in and out of the slimy ruff between her legs, slamming his belly against her pale buttocks, his balls bucking up and thwocking against her cunt as he reamed every inch of his organ in a curving arch up into her groin.
She had held him when he came, discovering that she could control the plethora of little muscles that made a noose around the perimeter of her vaginal entrance. Bending over, wiggling her buttocks as his sperm thudded against her cervix, she squeezed with her twat over and over, milking his softening shrinking prick, drinking him dry with the suctioning action of her sex organs, until finally his little flaccid peter slipped out of her and the sperm began trickling down her thigh to congeal there in crusty splotches.
Then she was on the bed, dripping wet from the shower. And he had started licking the water from her body. Starting with her feet, his tongue tickling her soles and plying the inlets between her toes. She watched, heavy-lidded and riddled with renewed desire as he licked her long legs, replacing the droplets of water with the shining bath of his saliva. Stopping short of her inner thighs, he began again with her fingers and hands, traversing her outstretched arms until she moaned with satisfaction at the way his mouth titillated the nerves along her soft inner arms. Then he was at her throat, his tongue licking and lapping at her collarbones, down her chest, circling around the two snowy domes of her young breasts, pummeling the crinkly brown circles of flesh whence her nipples projected hard and stiff with gooseflesh feeling and the thrill of his tongue lathing them unmercifully. Then down her ribcage, tracing the outline of each fine bone, each biblical spline, until he had reached her belly. Drinking the drop of nectar from her navel, running his tongue around and around the jumping skin of her tummy. Moving his mouth down to the rising hump of her mound of Venus, noisily vacuuming the moisture from her pubic hair until it fluffed up spongily. And then he was at her very cunt, pushing the fatty lips aside with his thickened tongue, discovering the pink glossy female intimacy within-the deep channel of her palpitating cuntal well, drinking from that too, until she was moaning and rolling back and forth, restlessly tossing her quim up in the air, jamming its soft complexity against his hungry mouth, wanting him to eat right into her belly, to suck on her clitoris as though it were a tiny penis that could ejaculate too, and to devour the throbbing hollow that twittered deep in the recess of her soft sensuous body.
* * *
Shelly lay alongside Stefan, quieting his confusion, his attempts to qualify their lovemaking, his uncertainty about her virginity, his apologies for his lust, and for arousing hers. She lay slightly crooked, on her side, watching him feed off her breasts, her nipples raw and red from his sucking and gumming, wishing she could divest herself of the throbbing in her bosom, wanting her nipples to open their little glands and ooze milk for her hungry hero's mouth.
One of her hands was curled in his hair, restraining his head when he forgot himself in the bounty of her breasts and started sucking too hard, pulling the nut-tough nipple into the back of his throat, scouring the cone of her breast with his tongue. She knew he knew that this was the time. No more bullshit. He didn't have to know how she had arrived at her readiness. It was enough that he felt he had conquered her, that his dedication had paid off, that his many, many demonstrations of patience following their mad make-outs were now bearing fruit, and that having let her choose her time, she had chosen it to be now, with him, on the night of their exultation and triumph.
Her other hand massaged his penis-the long stony spear she had felt before through his pants. The hot urgent column of flesh she had brought herself to masturbate while still a virgin, releasing his torrents of passion by jacking him off until her arm had ached.
Now she caressed him, keeping him hard and rock-like for the moment-his choosing, she figured-when he would clamber up on top of her seething body, and believing himself to be the first, would push the organ into the meaty brace of her cuntal divide as she simulated ah the pain and sacrifice she had already experienced at Peters' hands and knew was worth re-enacting for her true lover.
She was glad Peters had taken her, that she had learned to make love, that she felt confident of her body. Not restless or intimidated by Stefan's driving lust. No, she was happy with it, guiding his passion, channelling his energies into foreplay that had twice already brought her to the very brink of generalized orgasmic release.
Shelly was ready for him. She had shouted her lungs out, jumped her heart out, all day, her hopes rising and falling as the team battled its way to the championship. Each time she had launched her body into the air, throwing her heels up behind her, pushing her scarlet genital badge into mid-air, frantically waving the pompoms, she hoped Stefan was watching her-if only glancing at her, picking up on the vibes she was trying to transmit to him-that, win or lose, she was his, her cherry-bright crotch was his. And they had won. And he had won her. She knew he felt that way, and she rejoiced that she wasn't worried about her cherry now, nor about what to do, how to help him enter, how to cooperate in the release of his lust and the firing of her own. No, there was nothing on her mind, but the rapture of being with Stefan, lying in a real bed, almost like a honeymoon, with Jennifer and Tom in the next room-maybe a foursome as the night wore on, after all, she and Jenny had already learnt each other's secrets and how to adopt complementary roles, by virtue of both becoming actors on Peters' ready-made sex stage.
Shelly gave Stefan's big bold penis a squeeze, feeling a hot drop of viscous pre-spermal fluid exude from its tip and wet her hand with a sticky intimacy. He was working his way down her body now. She knew somehow that he would kiss her twat, eat her cunt, gobble at her pussy, before introducing his cock between her thighs. And she wanted him to. She stroked his penis again and again, from the softest spot at the base of his slackened balls, ah the way up the livid channel along the underside of his bloated spiny prick, to the flanged shiny band of skin, between the two lobes of his foreskin and lastly, delicately, wantonly, around and around the sticky, slippery glossy head that would soon be plunging deep into her body, rubbing against the end of her straining vaginal canal as they rocked and rolled to climax. She could hardly wait, hearing herself pant, hearing Stefan praise her body, hungrily exploring her sinuous limbs and soft curves and contours with his mouth and hands, his finger now skidding between her thighs, testing the wetness, the heat of her pussy pit, molten sex mouth of wild clamoring cuntal tissue....
* * *
"Oh fuck, it feels so good! Suck it, suck my cunt! Oh god, I'm coming right through my pants, I'm coming in my panties. Suck, suck, suck harder. Eat my cunt right up! Suck my clitoris, oh yes, YESSS! Suck my clit! Your tongue! Your tongue! Oh fuck, suck, suck!"
Walt flattened himself in the darkness on the balcony as the amplification of Carla's voice broke like a thunderstorm across the hotel grounds, shouting from a hundred different speakers in every passageway and part of the complex.
"Guunnhhhl Glugunnnh! Shit, it's the sweetest hide twat I've ever tasted. Like syrup. Lemme take your panties off. Ah, shit, what a beautiful pussy. Look! It's open-the little fucker is open for me. Mmmmmm, I'm just gonna eat some more of that sweet little dripping cunt!"
"Oh yes, yes, suck it, suck it! It feels so good when you suck, suck, suck, suck!"
People were pouring out-of-doors all over the hotel. A thousand glimmering lights came on, shining through thrown-open doorways. Heads anxiously peering out into the darkness in no particular direction, stunned by the smutty dialogue being broadcast by the PA Walt had hooked the desktop mike into.
And they didn't even realize it! he thought joyfully. The fuckers don't even realize what's happening. Can't they hear their own voices.
"Suck me, suck me!" Carla's voice rang out.
"Wait a minute, honey, turn over, that's it, now I can eat you and fingerfuck you in the asshole at the same time. Goddam, what's gotten you so hot! You've got the hottest cunt I've ever tasted. You come here, girl, I'll give you a job for the summer, we'll he around sucking and fucking-mmmmmmmmmph!"
"Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhh god my cunt's on fire, it's on fucking fire!"
Walt was straining to hold his laughter in. People down below were jabbering excitedly, the oldsters in their nightclothes, the young in hastily-improvised wrappings of towels and bed-clothes that left little doubt as to how they'd been occupying their time.
"What is it, oh Gene, it's so awful, I can't bear it!" Margie Shoat cried, wandering around the lawn, her hands cupped over her ears, trying to shut out the salacious broadcast.
"I don't know, must be some kind of recording, someone's prank!"
"Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Carla's moans began echoing back and forth between the buildings.
"Hey! HEY! GODDAMIT, THAT MIKE! GIMME THAT MIKE!" shouted the male voice, outraged.
Someone threw a switch somewhere. The floodlighting came on ah over the hotel, shining with dazzling intensity, pinning Walt against the side of the office as for lack of a better focus for then attentions, people began pointing to him, young and old, half-dressed, undressed, clutching their bodies as they peered around doorways, pointing, ah of them pointing as Peters ripped open the drapes on his office window, illumined by the floodlights, Carla behind him, shrieking and ducking out of sight, her voice mingling with Peters' curses as he wrenched the microphone cord out of the wall in full view of most of the guests and Bundy students, and with a cry of inarticulate rage, leapt for the window against which Walt was cowering in transfixed silhouette, forgetting he was naked, not noticing the floodlights which exposed his nakedness to the many eyes below, but springing like a panther for the intruder flattened against his window who was looking down in terror and guilty paralysis at the familiar faces below.
