"Oh, honey. Yes! Yes, I love it. Your tongue's so smooth. It's a wonderful boy tongue. Yes ... ohoooooo, lick me ... my asshole. It's feeling much better. It's so hot ... but it's getting better. Your tongue's so wet and so cool. "
I began to suck on it now. I spread her buttocks open and started to squeeze them open and shut as I licked and sucked alternately, dabbing my tongue, then swabbing it and then washing all over her fat globes before spearing my tongue back into her hot love hole.
"Yes, honey...," she was murmuring, holding onto the table-top tombstone, wiggling and then beginning to wobble from side to side, my head up under the tent of her skirt.
Pretty soon I had her shivering with passion and she was whimpering, making little cries and beginning to swivel her ass as I licked and sometimes playfully took little bites out of her heavy buttocks, making her squeal....
* * *
And so this epic narrative races on, one brilliant scene following another, a breathless accounting of a young farm boy (a foster-child) and his plump girlfriend, Elsie. It's all 'in the family' and nobody's secret!
INTRODUCTION
Here is a scrumptious, unscrupulous, delightfully scurrilous book that will lead you astray. It is a temporal and worldly study of sacrilege as seen through the eyes of a twelve-year-old boy from the distance of his manhood. At times it's really funny-and really sexy! As an insight into the behavior of churchified kids, it is both entertaining and provoking.
There are hundreds of subtle over and undertones, innuendoes and insinuations, outlandish criticisms and more than a modicum of tenderness and human warmth as the two main characters, Elsie and her boy-lover, Richie, tempt the Gods, the fates and each other.
Parents are always scolding, but when you encounter Mom Grant, Elsie's young, liberated mother, getting one's bare bottom spanked has more and varied connotations than mere punishment. Sensuality is rampant and youthful sexual awakening is treated delightfully.
Unlike most erotica, this story fragmentizes a short period in the lives of the characters; each is between twelve and thirteen when the lovely, licentious action begins. And this is also the first 'erotica' we've read where the hero marries the heroine.
We should warn you that a few ikons (idols) are smashed in the sexual melee, but never in so many pieces that a little Elmer's glue, unlike Humpty Dumpty, couldn't put them back together. God may be dead to many of us, but this is the first time we're read that he's also deaf!
And the author submits proof.
This is a rollicking good tale, well told, exciting to read and fun to remember. You'll find both pleasure and profit in reading this luscious, fascinating accounting of these two young farm kids playing 'you hide it-and I'll seek it' whenever the minister's eyes are elsewhere.
The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
My first girl was named Elsie. She was fat. Nobody really wanted her except to tell their sorrows to, and Elsie was a good listener. We were both twelve years old then and her mother was the Church organist, and I had the job of pumping the bellows, a hard job and it used to take all my strength. Choir rehearsal was always on Saturday mornings and I was also in the choir, but because I was so good at pumping the organ bellows, the choir came second; but the reason I liked the organ bellows was truthfully because of Elsie's mother, Mrs. Grant.
Mrs. Grant was about thirty-something, I suppose and she talked to herself all the time, even when you thought she was talking to you. This used to interest me very much. Especially about music, the way she'd chant and sing-song chords and urge me to pump a bit harder when crescendo or whatever was upcoming.
The mammoth bellows of the old organ were oblique to the bench on which Mrs. Grant sat. My position was somewhat cramped but I always had an excellent view of her heavy thighs and sometimes even her curly, dark hair up there under her long choir robe. I knew that in the summertime she never wore a damned thing under that black choir robe and I would sit there, rather kneel there, not three feet away from her and, as I pumped the two poles that boosted or sucked air into the ever-heaving bellows, i could use both my elbows to diddle my hard penis as I would hum whatever hymn along with Mrs. Grant and feed the hungry organ with air. You get the picture?
Well, Elsie studied the organ under her mother. And Elsie couldn't have been anything else (then) except what she was becoming, a neophyte organist, now and then sitting next on the bench with her fat mother, pumping the bass and the treble bars, kneeing the laterals for the right pitch of sound and so forth, none of this technical stuff being very interesting. Playing the organ for the most part is a physical accomplishment, even with today's modern organs, and very little artistry is involved. It's not at all like the piano because, like Mrs. Grant in those days, the organ talks back to you ... if you're listening, that is, and it also sings to itself and like a computer, stores up memories of old tunes and honky-tonk and stuff like that, and you never know right in the middle of a Bach Mass that it's not coming out with Ramona or Amapola or Begin the Beguine. This will hopefully explain why I first fell in love with the monster, and also with Mrs. Grant, and alas, with Elsie.
Today I am a happy old organist, close to my thirty-fifth year with tons of experience and good muscianship and I've even met Leonard Bernstein and it's not true that he's homosexual. He's trisexual which means he'll try anything once and usually does and he's the only man I know who's been plugged up the ass while conducting the Philharmonic.
But getting back to Elsie, her girl scout troop met the same night our Wolf Pack met, across the hallway in the Churchhouse. You see, in those days in this awful lonely country town where years ago the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY was stationed, our life centered around the church. There was always something churchy, the strawberry festivals, the blueberry festivals, the cherry festivals and the scripture and the Most Reverend Harry H. Hadlie, DMS, and KLW; and he was also a cow dentist and had a knack for animal husbandry and there have been a lot worse veterinarians. So, narry, as we snickered behind his back, ana Uus, the sexton, were in love, and why not, and well, Harry ran our little world. He was also the choir director and he personally did the dishes after the Saturday night rabbit dinners.
Oh yes, Elsie. Well, you know, there's so much to tell about that church, the Little Green Church of Oaks, was its name, right at the corner of Oaks and Popular in Oaks Township itself. You can't miss it.
Elsie had breasts of fat because she was fat and as a result, overdeveloped sooner than any of the other skin-flint girls like NancyJo and Gertrude and BeverlyMae and Dorthykins and Mary-Louise Werner, whose father drove the bus-truck to and from Green Church and the backwoods where most of us lived, farming, complaining and fighting an establishment none of us could define.
Elsie and I happened together on a Saturday morning in springtime which was appropriate enough. Mrs. Grant was ill with a fever. Hmmmmm, and Elsie had to pick out the chords for the choir practice and I was there, down there as usual, pumping and humming and adding my girlish alto (I began as a boy soprano) to the rip-snorting Bringing in the Sheaves, when I just happened, I say just happened to look up at Elsie's face. Her eyes were closed, smack tight, and she was breathing real heavy and her thighs were rubbing together and she was writhing on the bench and I was pumping and Bringing in the Sheaves was resounding in the church and out of doors, buttercups were yellow and birds were happy and out behind the stables and the Churchyard itself was the graveyard and would you believe it, the dead from the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY were still buried there, majors and privates and corporals and Drum Majors and some of the brave steeds the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY used in battles with the terribly offensive and neurotic local Indians, years back. The Rt. Rev. Harry H. Hadlie sat at the foot of the barren altar and directed like Leonard Bernstein and all the kids were being hypnotized by his long thin white fingers, and I heard Elsie give a huge puff! and then she almost slid down onto the wooden pedals right at my knees.
I remember asking her if she were ill and she said something to the effect that she thought she was dying and I should tell the Rt. Rev. HHH, which I did promptly and Reverend took her by her arm, and led her back out of the organ stall and out the double door and to the stables where he motioned all of us following to go about our business. They did, but I didn't.
That's my trouble in life. The mob goes one way and I want to go the other ... and I do that ... and, well-
I watched Rev. Hadlie and Elsie. He petted her brow. He was tender. He rubbed her fat breasts and her fat thighs and then he lifted up her dress and looked under it. I wondered why I'd never thought of doing that, but I just watched him and it didn't take long before my boy cock started to get longer and this always fascinated me, I mean, how it grew and grew and like I didn't tell it to do anything and sometimes I was mad at it because it was hard to pee through it when it was sticking up so hard and because we were always told never to touch the thing down there, I did, like the mob goes one way and I want to go the other ... well, I discovered while watching the Rev. Harry feel Elsie up, all over, too, and she seemed to like it, well I noticed a strange thing happening to me. I started to shiver like I was cold, but here it was springtime and choir practice and Saturday morning and I wasn't cold and I was shivering and my penis was jerking kind of, and I didn't understand why it should do that while I watched Rev. Harry kiss her knees and then up higher and then higher still and Elsie, fat Elsie just lying there on the wooden floor of the stable where the HORSES used to be stalled before and after battle with the psychotic Indians, and Elsie moaning and twisting her head while Rev. Hadlie felt her thighs and then had her spread her legs wide open while he did to her what he did to animals when he was being the veterinarian.
And Elsie was grunting and carrying on like crazy and I could see her hair clearly now and there was really a lot of it, more than her mother; and I saw Rev. Hadlie's long, elite fingers which on Sundays put fragile wafers into our mouths and held the wine thing from which we sipped the Lord's blood, his fingers inside her, between her thighs and Elsie wiggling and a soft smile on her face and her fists clenched like she was going to hit him, but she didn't, and he kept it up, his fingers racing in and out of her hairy hole and not even looking around to see if anyone was watching him ... which was his mistake!
Then he did a terrible thing!
He turned her over on her belly in the stable and then he bent his head like he did when he was praying for all of us in church on Sundays and the other times, and he stuck out his tongue and get this, he ran his tongue right down between the crack of her behind and I heard her go 'woof and then 'sigh' and (oh my golly!), and then he pulled her up like she was a sack of old cow and blessed her and told her she was okay, I heard him, that she was okay now and she should go back and piddle with the organ so we all could get the hymns just right for the service tomorrow. Which she did. I followed, being careful not to be seen and shortly was again pumping the mighty bellows.
"You okay?" I asked her. Her face looked so soft and pretty to me ... for the first time. She looked like one of the stained glassed women from olden times.
"Golly," was all she said.
"You're not sick?"
"No, Richie, no." That's what they called me then, Richie. My name is Richard.
When the choir practice was over and the Rt. Rev. was satisfied, he came to me and told me to stick along with Elsie and see her home to her mother, Mrs. Grant, if I wanted to be a good boyscout.
I guess I ought to have told you before that except Sunday and Mr. Werner's bus down to church, all the other times we rode our own horses. Bikes were forbidden, something to do with the mechanized devil and all that, and like a lot of other things, too, well, we have our own horses, which any city kid would give his balls to own, but we have them back then and they're all hitched up in the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY stables (not where Rt. Rev. HHH treated Elsie) and we slung into the saddle like farm kids do and off we trotted down past the cemetery and to the creek and along the creek past the dam and then across the fields and through the funny smelling woods and we came to a spot where Elsie said she needed a rest. "I feel very weakened," she said and I sat up on Karl (oh, yes, all of our horses had German names like we did) and watched her climb down off Wilhelm who was really a girl horse but answered to Wilhelm nonetheless.
She lay down on some old winter grass that was warmed by the spring sun and smelled very nice and she looked up into the wide sky and now and then at me. "Turn Karl loose, Richie, and come sit here," she said. She sounded like her mother.
"You okay?" I asked. I wasn't really used to talking to girls ... then. You see, our religious order, that's what it's called, kind of forbid the boys to talk to the girls. It was supposed to be that girls talked to the boys and, if they didn't talk back to you, that was that! Girls were nasty things, all our mothers told us that, I guess never wondering that we boys might think that our mothers were also girls, in a matter of speaking, and well, boys did all the hard work, milked the cows and the chores and the girls knitted and made things n' wiped after they peed and never farted and didn't climb cherry trees and when it was cold, they didn't have to go to school, and on Sundays twice a month, all the men, that's MEN, sat beneath the altar and the women washed their bare feet with ice cold water and then dried them with their long hair.
As I look back now it all seems pretty basic.
Well, I sat down next to Elsie and watched her, the way I used to study ants and crawling things. She was fat and I mean it. Blubber. Her rump was like a cow's and her thighs and arms were heavy but she had such a lovely, quiet face. Pretty teeth. Like the girls in their underwear in the Sears & Roebuck catalogue which somebody always tore out before the thing got to the outhouse.
"I have never felt so funny down here," she said. She placed her right hand over her mound. She rubbed it and I got really hard just watching her do this.
"So you're not okay, huh?"
"It hurts."
Oh, did I want to look and see how it hurt, whatever hurt her. I wanted to lift up her dress like the Rt. Rev. and see all her hair. I used to dream of doing this, but you know dreams.
"Richie."
"Yes?"
"Richie, can you keep a secret?"
"Who me? Yes. Sure." I'd not told a soul about her mother being naked in the summertime under the choir robe.
"Well, Richie, I'm bleeding to death."
Even in later years, about which I'll tell you, Elsie was terribly matter-of-fact about things.
"Do you know any prayers, Richie?"
"Now I lay me...."
"... no, maybe another one about wandering through the valley, that one. How about the one saying the President's okay and how the widows wait and we don't need the frost when it comes and honor your father ... and you're not supposed to kill things."
I remember doing my best. I recited every book in the Old Testament, you know, Genis, Exodis, Duterrommnie and Josh Judges Ruth (she sinned) and all the way down past Habakaya and those weird Epistles and well, to the end.
"I feel much better."
"You still bleeding to death, Elsie?"
"Yeah, but now it doesn't seem so awful."
"Can you tell me where you're bleeding to death?"
"Never."
Oh, sure, we knew all about fucking, animals, that is, and when she raised up slowly, brushing her long hair back from her eyes, she glanced at my crotch and again she said, 'never."
And so began our game of Never.
Elsie was my first girl and now I'm going to confess what happened. I've never told this to anyone. Not even Mr. Bernstein, 'cause he wouldn't believe me neither.
CHAPTER TWO
You've heard about 'setting' things to music, right? Well, I've, in my time, set Keats to music, even Edna St. Vincent Millay's concept of Elizabeth Barrett's father smothering the lover-poet into composing My Last Duchess and the one about the friar in the garden contemplating butterflies snoozing in the hot sun on some old bishop's tomb.
So I set fire to Elsie. I set her to music, and if you want a tough example, try strumming the lute with your tongue.
It was true. She was bleeding to death. From her hole, that wonderful, dark, mysterious hole up there between her fleshy thighs, so white and so flabby. Roly-poly.
I got her naked. She lay there quietly, mumbling prayers, snickering, sometimes whimpering, sometimes crying out dirty words like Oh My God, which we were told never to say, and other dirty words like lick me and don't look when you kiss me down there and oh, your face is all bloody and God, how do I taste and give me a taste and oh, crap!
She pissed just like a cow-with no warning and I stuck at it. She smelled to high heaven, but at that time I was collecting smells and this was just one more. To this day I can still smell the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY.
Karl and Wilhelm watched the entire scene. I like the way horses are embarrassed when humans touch each other. They don't know what to think. They pretend to ignore but you can catch their evil eyes. Why do horses have evil eyes?
I liked licking her. Elsie liked it too. She kept twisting and squirming and wiggling and raising her knees up and holding her fat slobby breasts, touching her hair down there while my tongue curled it.
"You look like an Indian, Richie!"
And it was when I placed my palm over my mouth to make a war whoop that I felt how wet and slimy my face was. And red! Elsie was truly bleeding to death and I was there.
"You okay?"
Ignorance is terrible, isn't it?
Well, we walked the horses back to the creek and we all washed, and if you think cats are afraid of water, get a horse into a creek with you and watch it, its eyes.
We rode on back to the farm lane and up the path and I waved goodbye. Mrs. Grant was pruning the apple tree in the yard behind the house.
She spoke in German: "Richard, you come here and tend me because I am ill," she said, "and you, Elsie, get up to your room and make it nice so if God comes, he won't be displeased." Say that in German.
Language is so quaint.
I slid down off Karl and walked him up to the grape arbor and tied him loosely. Otherwise he'd eat the roses.
"Elsie's bleeding to death," I said.
Horror!
"Where?"
"Between her legs."
She cocked her head. "Richard! Richard! RICHARD!?"
"Yes ma'am?"
Like Thomas Alva Edison was done to in that box car, Mrs. Grant boxed my ears. I took it. I'd only told the truth. Elsie was bleeding to death, and it was not the blood of the Lamb or that blood we drank on Sundays from the' chalice. ("Take this in remembrance of me!") I used to wonder how much blood that guy Jesus had, everyone drinking it on Sundays and who was running back and forth from the Bay of Galiee and Nassareth, and the men fishing and the mending of nets and how Jesus, even when little, was a lord, little lord Jesus, and the dirty Romans and the cats in the combs. Lions and things.
Mrs. Grant left me stunned and flew into the house. She screamed out of the second-story window. "WHAT YA HAVE YOU DONE TO MY PRECIOUS? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY PRECIOUS?!"
Then, I believe, it must have dawned upon Mrs. Grant that her precious was having her first menstrual cycle.
"It's okay, Richie."
I sighed. I unleashed Karl, climbed up and rode away, Karl feeling his oats, galloping like a crazy New York taxi taking shortcuts.
I was a foster child.
Belonged to really nobody. Maybe Karl, and a tew cows ana a cup of dandelion tea and radisn sandwicnes and the heartbeats of chickens running around with their heads cut off at execution time, and of course, the outhouse and the girlless Sears, and a few other things. I was the first truly, real nobody.
Get up, brush your teeth, comb your hair, at 5:30 in the morning. Milk the cows, clean the cans, shovel horseshit, pick watercress from the stream on the north edge, go to church ... go to church ... go to church! Pump the organ ... pump the organ. Away in a manger no crib for his head.
So up comes the scout meetings. And Elsie is losing weight. She looks worried somehow. But her face is lovely, like a new flower. Her breath always reminds me of daisies and weeds. I used to plop myself down in the daisy field up near the dam and just tease my prick as I would see the wind whispering and I could even hear the tiny minnow fish exchanging gossip nearby. Karl, like some kind of prehistoric, would lay down close to me. Somehow horses not standing up frighten me.
Across the hallway, right? Well, I can hear them reciting the girl oath, like on my total qualified dishonor, I hereby with the God's queen, relinquish all rights to stupid boys, even if they are scouts, and boys are dangerous, cruel, pull legs off frogs and God lets them hold their awful cocks when they piss and girls can't and God lets boys laugh at girls and pull their hair and he's, HE'S made them smarter and even filthy sows like boys better than girls, and boys don't have to sew or wear skirts, and they play with cow's titties and girls can't do that, and boys make loud noises when they putsey, girls can't do that, and girls have to sit down and boys stand up and how come boys never wash girls' feet and dry them with their long hair? How come?
Boys and MEN speak in German, and girls....
Reverend Hadlie was the scout master. Both troops. He was busy flying back and forth between us and in between, untying knots and giving artificial respiration, which I knew the Pastor really enjoyed, girls and boys, Gus, the sexton always watching approvingly. I went to the bathroom and managed to catch Elsie's eye.
Looking everyway at once, she followed me down the dimly lit corridor. We save church money by turning off lights. "In here, come," I whispered, totally unconscious of what I had in mind. Most of us are like this, and me first. Then mostly.
We were alone. "You still bleeding to death, Elsie?"
"Jesus saves."
I wish I knew then what I know now. "Elsie, let me see."
"My mother, Mrs. Grant, tells me to tell you, should you inquire (in German) (forbidden), that my vagina, in the monthly event of, the powers that be, unsubscribed, and respected, doth, you inform by virtue of their generosity, be still with your mouth closed."
"Let me see."
"No."
"Let me see!"
"Maybe."
"Let me see."
"If you keep your eyes closed. Can your tongue see?"
I remember swallowing. "Yes. Yes, it can."
"Okay, but you can keep a secret, yes?" (It sounds better in English).
"Something's awfully wrong ... down here." She pointed with her finger. "I feel like it's alive or something."
"What?"
"Down here. I mean ... there's something alive in it."
"Like what?" At twelve I'd heard of everything!
"It tickles me all the time. I don't dare ask my mother, Mrs. Grant."
"Is it like a sneeze?" I was way ahead of my time.
"Yes."
"Like a cold, keeps sneezing, huh?"
"Like a cold." She paused. "It's a funny tickle like when you have a cold tickle in your throat, only it's down here, here, HERE, and the tickle doesn't want to go away ... nohow."
"I'd love to catch your cold."
"You silly!"
"I would."
"Catch it if you can," Elsie squealed and ran back into the kitchen where the Rt. Rev. did the rabbit dishes. there were these big, huge, galvanized metal sinks. Deep things, Christ, you could put a pig in one!
I'm not wanting to say Elsie was like a fat pig but she came close to it. I can still see her in that sink. Her naked legs hanging over the front of it; her hands on her thighs, the water running, hot and cold, her laughter and her sighing as I bent my head over the rim of the sink and inched up her skirt and took down her woolly panties and examined her ... her ... her ... her!
She was still bleeding to death.
Lots of red blood, all over. Oozing like lava from Italian volcanos. Her pussy lips all red and funny looking.
"See?"
"I see."
"Touch it."
I touched ... it.
"Ohooooooooo," it was such a long 'oh' that I became bewildered. Every one of her 'oh's' with the Rt. Rev. were short.
She whispered to me: "It still tickles."
I did it again. I mean, I put two fingers inside to scratch away her tickle and she went 'ohooooooooooo."
She reached behind her to turn off the faucets. The sink was half full of water now. She slopped around in it.
"Do I look like a cow to you, Richie?"
"Yes."
"For that I'm going to tell ... tell on you."
"What are you going to tell?"...." that your ... your cock is hard!"
So it was.
"If you do that," I said, "we'll be thrown out of the scouts."
"Maybe we should be?"
"Elsie!"
"Maybe we should be, Richie?"
"Where would we go ... if?"
It was plain obvious to me now that she didn't want to continue the conversation, scouts be damned! "Go close the kitchen door," she instructed. "Close it and then come back and get into the sink with me."
Even then I had imagination. I locked the kitchen door. I took off every stitch. Hell! I climbed into the sink with her. It was so big you could wash dishes for the whole congregation. "Wet, isn't it?"
"I like being wet with you." When I said this she tried to drown me and I still remember my face between her open pig thighs, her hair and her fingers and the gory blood oozing out of her hole as I grabbed her fat body and hugged her. "Hove you, Elsie!"
CHAPTER THREE
I guess you were little once, too. Did you have your own 'Elsie?' Well, if you did, good!
Toward June that year ... we were twelve, Elsie, my Elsie, began to lose more and more weight. Her mother buried her in the organ. I pumped. But now, each time, I'd look up inside her skirt and wet my lips, she'd grind down on the keys and the Rt. Rev. Hadlic would flinch. Back in the graveyard the ghosts of the cavaky, horses included, would mutter. We, Elsie and I, got to be quite good together. Especially with Scarlattie, Bach and them other composers, MOE Zart and Beet Haven and obscure guys like Goeroge Sand and De Moppysant, guys like that.
Sho-pan, an oriental, was hard to read. It got so that when the Rev. was busy weaving his long, tender fingers at the boys in the choir, that I'd sit closer to Elsie and she would open her thighs up wide and I'd take a moment or so for prayer, whispering to the live thing that hid deep up inside her vagina. This damned thing!
Talk about being alive? This thing inside her was always alive! I used to take it between my teeth and hold it and hear her wiggling up there on the bench. She would kick off her shoes and I would watch her toes wiggle in unison.
It got so that I felt funny if my face wasn't between her fat thighs-which were growing thinner as spring came into summertime. Her hair kept growing. And she became kind of addicted to my tongue, my lips. My prayers.
'Holy mother of Jesus,' I would intone, licking and sucking her flesh, 'give to me my daily bread' and she would squirm and arch her back up there on the organ bench and sometimes she would hold my head and press me, PRESS my face between her. I loved it!
Sometimes she would accidentally put her foot on one of the deep gross bass pedals and her eyes would be closed, my tongue seeping in and agonizing her, but always erasing her itch. She could come on my tongue. The organ would BOOM!
Then this one night. I'll always remember it. I was pumping for her mother, Mrs. Grant. It was hot summer, and everyone was sweating. I forget the occasion but it was something about the Jews (poor things) being evicted from the oasis and told to go forth and find a different wilderness, one with running water, and Aramaic-speaking servants, and gosh, how they did run and all the pharoughs got drunk on Nile water and well, I rested my head near Mrs. Grant's moving thigh and it so happened that when she went from G to a festered fourth, (a soupcdn of C minor), her hands plunging on the keyboard, her legs placed musically apart, I fell, with my perspiring face, right between her thighs.
What would you have done? I mean, keep pumping the bellows? I kissed her hair.
Rock and Roll was unheard of at the time, but that's what she produced, the organ blaring, zigzagging and trumpets and Roman Legions and Italian countryside pastorals and little sheep and bunny rabbits and nature and Mickey Mouse and ... and her hairy thing ... oh, my Lord! I kissed her again and she kept pounding, I mean, pounding the keys, her feet slithering all over and her thighs opening wider and oh, so wide, I had no choice. I sucked her.
You have to be in a church to understand all of this.
Our congregation went home. The Reverend shook everyone's hands, hands, not one hand, and then he came back to the boy choir and dismissed them, asking Ed Hossenfecker to remain. Lord help Ed Hossenfecker, I remember thinking.
"Well, Mrs. Grant, I must say," the Rt. Rev. said, "I've never now, never heard you play so beau-ti-fully!"
"Thank you, Reverend Hadlie."
He looked down at me. I was wiping my mouth. God, she tasted better than Elsie. Older. "You, young fellow, Alcolyte of God, you are the best , organ bellows man in the entire tradition." Whatever that meant.
I wondered casually if he could see my hard-on inside my choir gown. He couldn't.
"Thank you, Reverend," I stumbled. I was about to faint.
"Both of you, join me for a coffee in the Warden's room."
I looked up at Mrs. Grant. She looked down at me. We both listened to the rector as he went off. "Richie, do you know what you've done to me?"
I knew.
But I shook my head.
"Richie," she said softly, turning off all the stops on the keyboard, "Richie, I have a message from God for you."
I needed a message from God. About time!
"What?" I asked. I loved her smell.
"My true name is Mary ... Mary."
What did this mean? I'd heard a lot of Mary. Mother of God n' a virgin and every Catholic bead named after her.
She went on with a lot of business about where the Lord was, his Arizenness and on the right hand, and all the time she kept opening and closing her sweating thighs.
"You can be one with our Lord."
"I want to be that."
"Kiss the Virgin Mary."
So I sucked her again. She let me. She held my ears. She put her fingers in my ears so I probably couldn't listen. She arched her back on the organ bench. She raised up her feet and balanced them on the edge of the bench.
"Pay homage!" she murmured. "Pay homage."
I didn't, at that time, know who homage was.
We both heard the Reverend. "It's brewing ... it's brewing."
Mrs. Grant fixed herself up like a matronly organ player and I, hard-on and all, shivering, and it wasn't cold, went meekly, like a lamb, together, me following, her fat buttocks something else again, and we had the damned coffee and then she said, "This is Good Nite, Richie, but you can walk me home." Two miles.
We were finally near where she lived. With Elsie. "Richie, do you have evil, lewd designs on my only daughter?"
I didn't know what a design was.
If I tell you what happened next, you won't believe. Things like this just don't happen. "Do you?" she demanded.
I asked her what a design was and she told me something about God's Designs and the Designs of the Saints of our great German Hurtch. (Church).
We were down at the end of the lane. I could see the lights of her house. Elsie was there. "Richie, take off all your clothes, now."
She was like a mother to me.
I got undressed.
"Now," she said, "stand up like a Man of God so I can judge thee." Thee!
I did just that and I hope to God he kills me if my prick didn't stand up and be proud and God-like. She looked up at me. (She sat down on the grass). "Richie, you could fertilize our earth!! (Our earth?)
She held my penis with both hands; no, it's not that large, that long; it's normal and she massaged it and I almost went blooey! Then she kissed it, me, and I did go blooey. All over her.
That was that!
I was never more ashamed in all my God-loving life. I had 'pissed' on her face.
"That's a very good boy," she sighed. She took my hot thing into her mouth then. I, oh, I could have died! Watching her mouth was the most obscene thing I'd ever done. Her open lips on my hard thing: it oozing in and out of her warm mouth. She even chewed on it. I got scared. I remember being scared, shivering. She licked it. She rubbed it all over her face, even in her eyes, over her nose.
"Richie, the Devil's between us!" That would be a tight squeeze was all I could think.
"Richie, pay homage."
I did just that. She helped me. In the half light, the smell of alfalfa and the aroma of timothy hay and some kind of dog howling in the distance (no moon), she lay down wiggling her body and told me to hoist up her long skirts and pay homage to the Virgin Mary again and my silly tongue began counting every one of the thousand curly hairs around her meaty country hole and then up inside ... oh, inside, and how slippery wet she was and how she squirmed and moaned and said prayers and counted in crazy numbers that sent my imagination soaring ... and God, how good she tasted! What a strange, good taste!
What she was mumbling I couldn't hear, but when she squealed my name over and over, my weapon of God erected on the spot and she gripped it, like a five-finger spread on the organ keyboard and she led it, she fed me into her hairy Mary and Holy Geesus! I nearly died!
I remember walking back to the foster farm and quietly crawling into the double bed with Elva. Two years older. I'm twelve, remember?
"Get down where you belong," she said. She was half asleep. "Put it back to sleep because my fingers woke it up, okay?"
I sucked on her bare toes. Then I inched up. She smelled hot, her pussy. I put my nose deep up inside Elva and smelled and breathed in and out until she stopped squirming and went off into the dreams she kept so secret.
When the rooster crowed that it was time, I got out of the bed, washed my face with ice cold water, looked over at Elva, thought about Elsie and her mother and went down the stairs, tip-toe, and out to the barn and all sixteen Holstein cows looked up. I got the pail and milked them.
CHAPTER FOUR
People can't stay away from people! You've maybe noticed this? Well...?
Well, approaching thirteen (13) Elsie (somehow) underwent a fantastic change-all over. Each time I'd visit, she'd preen, poppy-cock-like, if you know what I mean. Showing off! Her body. Never before could this body be called beau-ti-ful. Now it was so becoming! Becoming so. And, not gradually.
First thing, her breasts became molded, nipples and all, glorious and suckable. Like something you could get your teeth into; and the petal pinkishness all around, holy Christ! A feast! I loved them!
I remember back there in the beginning of our playing around more and more with each other, how she'd get to need my fingers and my lips, my tongue and rubbing my leaky prick over her growing breasts. What amazed me was that from the blobs of fat on her chest, two lovely round and pointing breasts were growing. They were so silky smooth and she loved me to taste and tease them with my mouth.
Every chance we got down at church Elsie and I would find some empty place and after we'd make sure that we wouldn't get caught by some stupid kid wandering in accidentally, I'd open her blouse or her dress or just stick my hands up inside it and grab her warm titties and squeeze them while she would play her tongue all over my face and stroke my little prick on the outside of my pants.
When she was thirteen and about a half, she really began to lose weight. It just like dripped off her and none of her clothes fit anymore and this meant a lot of sewing had to be done by her mother and herself, and trying on and taking off and somehow this became a weekly ritual. And after the first time I just happened to be over at her house when they, she and her mother, were doing this, I began to get so horny and hot all the time. My prick was always hard and, of course, I was growing up too, and so was my prick.
I don't remember whether or not I've said this, but there were no men in Elsie and her mother's house. Elsie never knew her father. He took off with a young girl from one of those traveling carnivals and they never saw him again. Elsie's mother had Elsie and became very depressed and lonely and it took until Elsie was about seven before her mother shaped up and things started to be okay for both of them.
They had a terrific farm and all the hands who worked the fields were seasonal, if you know what I mean, and they didn't mix in with the family. They just did the farm chores, drove the stuff to market and got paid cash and drank up a storm every Saturday night down at the Fork In The Road auction where the only bar in fifty miles was.
And what happened between Elsie, her mother and me happened on one of these Saturdays. We were alone in the big house. Mom (that's what I called Elsie's mother) Mom was sewing a dress for thinning Elsie for Sunday. Something special was happening, but I don't remember now what it was. I do recall that their pump went on the fritz that morning and Elsie rode over on her horse to my place and told me her mother wanted to know if I could come over and see what was wrong with the pump. She said I could have lunch with them if I wanted. We rode back together after I finished with the stables.
Mom got Elsie to hemming and she and I went out behind the house to where the pump was. Mom was wearing an old tattered robe she usually wore inside the house and she was barefoot.
She looked so young this day, really pretty.
Her long hair was down loose, not like it usually was, up in a bun on her neck, and she was happy as I'd never seen her. In all the months that had passed since the message from God bit and the hairy Virgin Mary episode, nothing much had happened between us. I don't remember really why nothing did, but I do remember this Saturday thinking about kissing her pussy and feeling her breasts and her holding my slippery penis while I poked it up inside of her hot hole-that maybe she'd just forgotten all about us and that was that, but as we stood looking at the pump, she winked at me and I knew we both had kept our secret and also that something was going to happen again.
"Have you been a good boy, Richie?" she wanted to know. She was looking at me with a funny gleam in her eyes. "Have you? Tell me, Richie."
I got scared because I thought maybe somehow she knew about Elsie and me. But I was pretty sure she couldn't really know anything because Elsie and I could keep our secret and nobody else down at church had any idea what went on between us.
"Oh, sort of-" I said.
"Are you playing with your pecker a lot?"
I blushed. "Not ... no, not too much." I felt hot all over.
She sat down on the cement block near the pump handle. "Show me your hands. I can tell if you have."
I held them out. She looked very closely. "Hmmmm," she said, "guess not. No black hairs growing yet."
I didn't know what she meant by this, but I confess to being relieved by her decision. If you want the truth, I'd been playing with my prick so much that sometimes it got red and angry looking. I was always rubbing it over the cow's teats and sometimes letting them lick it when I'd put honey on it. I'd squirt hot milk all over it and jerked it madly because the sensations were so wonderful!
I couldn't count the times I'd stroked my cock and thought of Mom, how hairy she was between her white thighs and how I loved her heavy breasts and even her bottom.
Then how about the hundred times Elsie would stick her fingers up inside my pants and squeeze my thing for maybe just a second or two and how I'd get into the toilet or crouch down in one of the back pews in church and jerk off and wish I could keep those beautiful sensations in my penis all day and all night long.
Well, anyway, it didn't take too long to find out what was wrong with the pump and I won't go into it, but I managed to fix it and that was that. I primed it with ice water from the milkhouse and that did the trick.
I started back to the house and Mom stopped me.
"Want to go into the barn for a minute, Richie?" She had a bright smile and she kept looking down at my crotch.
"Won't Elsie get nervous if we're gone too long?"
"I don't think so, Richie. Come, let's go." I followed her and I loved the way her huge breasts jumped and bounced under her robe. All I could think of then was I knew they were naked and so ripe and fun to play with and kiss all over. There was so much of them.
We went up the ladder to the corn bin. She was behind me and I almost fell off when she put her hand between my legs and her fingers felt my balls, then one finger running between the crack of my ass. She giggled.
"You liked that, didn't you, Richie?"
Who wouldn't? But I didn't answer. My prick started to swell up and I could hear my heart pounding! I felt very dizzy, too.
I don't remember just how it all happened, but the next thing I know, we were both in the corner and she was hugging and kissing me and her fingers were crawling all over my crotch and scratching me and then she opened my shirt and the next thing I know she's licking my chest and biting my boy nipples and moaning and humming while she's doing this and then she kneels up and smiling at me, really pretty, she opens her robe and oh my God!
She starts holding her huge breasts. She pinches her brown nipples. Then she cups them and bounces and jiggles them for me, her eyes staring into mine; and then she holds one breast with both hands and coming closer, begins rubbing it all over my hot face. Her nipple's hard as a rock and so long, somehow and I catch it between my teeth and I nibble on it and she cries out and the next thing I sense, it's her fingers rooting between my thighs and now she's stripping my penis the way I do when I milk the cow's warm teats.
Boy was I dizzy, what with the hot sun melting the barn, the intoxicating odor of the drying corn and the smell of hay and how quiet everything was suddenly.
She asks me to stand up and I do. She unbuckles my belt and undoes the button and then zips down my fly and soon her mouth is kissing my penis and then she starts to suck it into her hot, wet mouth and I'm going out of my fucking mind.
"Squeeze my breasts!" she tells me and I reach down and hold them and then she begins to moan while she's tonguing my hard cock all over, up and down, then licking my balls, her hands holding my buttocks and her fingers pinching and massaging them while my cock is slipping in and out of her sucking mouth.
Then, the next thing I know, she suddenly stops sucking and lays down on the rough, wooden floor of the corn bin. She takes off her robe and she's all naked! Absolutely naked! Hair and all. God! was she beautiful to me!
"Sit on my breasts, Richie, get up here and sit on them!"
I did this and she grabs my thighs and hugs me closer to her and now her face is between my thighs and my prick's going in and out of her mouth quickly and I'm rubbing my asshole all over her bare breasts and I can feel her nipples hard and rubbing my asshole and the sucking noises her mouth is making, slurping sounds, is driving me wild.
Why I kept worrying about Elsie back in the house hemming her Sunday dress I don't know, but I was, also going out of my mind at the same time. Soon Mom's got me kneeling over her and she's sucking my balls into her mouth. Her tongue is whipping them and then she swallows them, spits them out, her fingers curled around my slippery penis and all the time bumping up and down and grinding the air in the corn bin.
Then she stops doing this, again with no warning and she rolls over on her belly, her robe half covering her, but I can see part of her bare bottom cheeks.
"Richie, now sit on my bottom. Move my robe up and sit on me. I like that. And ... Richie, squirm around and play with yourself hard and bounce on me!"
Oh, did I love the sight of her bare ass! God! I could see her cunt hairs, so black, and even her asshole and the sounds she was making while I jumped all over her buttocks were fantastic! I never had so much fun, jerking my hard cock and bouncing, bouncing, my balls slapping against her naked cheeks, my prick hot in my hand and Mom's beautiful noises.
And, get this! I was doing all these obscene things with her permission. She kept talking to me, sometimes whispering. "Richie ... oh, Richie, hold your hard cock, pull on it, press harder ... yesssssss, now bounce up and down ... yesssssss, that's how ... jerk your cock ... bounce! BOUNCE!"
Then she began to moan like a sick cow, and she was squirming all over the place, her legs opening and closing and that moan ... oh, God, I can still hear it, Mom hitting the wooden floor with her open hands, her head twisting, her long hair on her bare back, the feel of her body heat. I could even smell her pussy and she was sweating!
And that's just when my prick began to sting and burn me. My balls were so hot and funny feeling I thought maybe I was sick or something. My heart was in my mouth. I felt I had to pee! And then, Holy God! I remember feeling like something was churning up inside my ass and before I could do anything about it, my cock started to piss! I couldn't hold it back and my eyes were swimming. My cock exploded and Jeesus, all over Mom's back, all over her long dark hair, even in the crack of her ass.
I was shivering and the noises coming out of my mouth ... God, I couldn't believe them!
"All right, Richie," I heard Mom saying, "now get off me and just sit still...."
CHAPTER FIVE
You won't believe what happened next!
She sat up. She was shaking all over. Her luscious breasts, so large and exciting to me, were jiggling on her chest.
"If you tell anyone about this, what's happening out here, Richie, I'll cut your thing off and feed it to the pigs."
As I sat still, obeying her, my prick was still pumping out thin silvery white stuff. And I saw it wasn't pee because it wasn't yellow. I could see several thick gobs of it in her hair. There was one puddle right in the middle of her naked back, just above her swelling asscheeks.
Standing up, Mom padded over to the corner of the sweet-smelling bin. God was the sun blaring hot. It was even hard to breathe, it was so close up there over the barn. And the temperature had to be kept kind of like this so the corn would cure.
There was a single, golden corn cob hanging from a string on a spike. As I saw her slip it out of the string, it reminded me immediately of a prick, and not just an ordinary prick. Today, as I think back about it, this prick was classical in size, seven or eight inches long, thick and rounded with a bulbous head and a strong, slightly crooked shaft.
Mom was humming to herself. She rubbed the corn cob under her nose. Then I watched as she dabbed the tip of it in her mouth. She crossed to me. "Here, take this and rub it in your goo that's all over my back," she said, putting her back to me. "Rub it all over, Richie, get all your wet goo on the cob."
I did just this. Then I saw her spit on it and then lick her tongue all up and down the cob's shaft and then, my eyes widening, I saw her spread her bare feet and sort of bend frontwards and then bend down at her knees. She worked the golden cob right up between her hairy pussy lips, her face contorted as it slipped up inside her cunt.
She was breathing heavily. "Now come over here and sit down here in front of me."
I did this and I could see the corn cob slipping up inside her, her fingers gripping hold of it, pushing it up deep and pulling it out slowly, then shoving it back up and in and out, her eyes closed, her breasts bouncing as she began to moan and shake from side to side.
Oh, what a wonderful sight! The noises of that thick golden cob vanishing and then reappearing, was just marvelous. Already my prick was stiff again. I just sat there and watched. This was all she wanted me to do. Her eyes would flutter open and she'd smile down at me, then she'd look at my prick, telling me to hold it, telling me to play with it.
Then she turned around. Now her back was to me.
"Raise up my robe and play with my behind," she moaned and I sat closer. "Kiss it. Use your fingers in my crack," she sighed, bending over much further now and squatting down so her buttocks spread open and I could see her asshole. "Rub your finger over my asshole," she whispered and I almost didn't hear her, that's how low her voice was.
Oh, how I wanted to kiss her ass. My mouth was watering now. I felt my prick burning up. My balls were stinging me and even my asshole was itching as I fondled and stroked her billowing buttocks, watching her asshole expand and seem to glow. Several times she bumped backwards. Her huge bottom hit my face and I just couldn't resist. The next time she did this, I kissed her asshole and she squealed. "Hug my behind," she murmured, and I did, rubbing my face, my mouth all over her blushing cheeks, now my prick really swelled as I kissed and caressed her moonshaped bottom. How voluptuous it was!
Let me tell you-the sound of her shoving that corn cob up so deep and the gushy, slurping noise it'd make when she pulled it out was making me goofy with excitement. My prick was never harder and as I kept kissing and fondling her wiggling buttocks, I was sure it would explode the way it had done not too long back.
And oh, the smell of her! Her puckering asshole was delicious and I dared to touch it with the tip of my tongue, and she squealed again and again as I started to rub my nose over it and then down the crack of her huge, gyrating ass.
"Stand up ... stand up ... Richie. Stand close to me with your thing. Yes. That's right. Now poke it at me ... between my crack. Let me feel how hot and hard it is, Richie. Put it right up against my asshole and push a little. Don't try to shove it up yet, just push it there so I can feel it. Oh ... ohooooooooo, Richie!!"
She was making such wild noises I thought she might get sick. She was really sweating now. It was getting hotter and hotter up there in the airless corn bin.
"Now, Richie, push hard against me. Put your arms around my waist. Yes, oh ... Richie ... yesssssssss, squeeze my titties. Pinch them for Mom. Pinch them. Don't be a sissy. It doesn't hurt that ... ohooooooo, harder-yes! Now pinch. PINCH!!"
And, as I did this, she pressed back so hard against me I thought I would stumble and fall down on the floor, but she quickly put her arms back behind my back and held my groin pressed up against her buttocks, wiggling and squirming deliciously and I felt just the tip of my hard cock sink between her rotating thighs; and then when she screamed and bent over, backing up to me the way the cows do, I knew my prick was going in ... sinking in like her asshole was mushy wet mud, so easy and looking down I could see the ring of her asshole ever so wide now and closed tight around my prick.
I don't recall now how long we kept this up, but I was having the time of my life. I wanted it never to stop. My hands would fly up to her swinging breasts, my fingers would pinch her nipples, n' I mean really hard the way she wanted, Mom's hot asshole open real wide and letting my prick dive in all the way to the base of it, then pulling off and then ramming back hard, Mom cursing unlike any church-going woman organist I've ever known.
Then she collapsed. She just fell like a bag of potatoes. She caught herself and then first on her side, her huge breasts sagging and touching the floor, she rolled over on her back. Her hand still gripped the golden corn cob and I watched fascinated as I saw her let go of it so her muscles could push it out. It plopped out and Mom spread her naked thighs wide apart.
She looked up at me. I could have sworn she was sobbing. She had a real case of the shivers. I just stood there. Her eyes were on my prick. She sighed and then she spoke, a small voice: "Richie, come closer. Get on your knees and poke your cock into my mouth, honey, let me suck it. Oh! Richie. HURRY! Let me SUCK ON IT!"
And that was just when it happened to me the second time that day. I kneeled over her face. She raised up her face. She stuck out her tongue. Then she held my waist and started to move me backwards and frontwards.
Her mouth opened and she swallowed my prick. I watched how her tongue curled all around it, then licked up and down, my prick now plunging down her throat as she sucked and shook her head back and forth furiously.
My balls were hitting her chin, slapping against them. I spread my knees wider apart, her hands urging me to do this and now I slammed into her mouth, literally fucking her face as she kept her eyes open and I watched them rolling, Mom snorting through her nose as she sucked and swallowed my impossibly hot, dripping prick.
... and when my orgasm rocked through me, I was sure my asshole was on fire! Oh, how my cock leaped and began to surge and spit down her throat, Mom sucking and swallowing for all she was worth, draining my cock and biting on it, now her fingers squeezing my balls as I kept fucking her mouth.
She kept my prick inside her hot mouth for quite a long time, but she told me with her eyes to stop shoving back and forth. I sort of climbed up higher on her breasts and she liked this, rocking slowly from side to side as my prick grew smaller and smaller until finally her lips were kissing just the reddish tip of it.
Then she exhaled deeply. She turned her face away. She licked her lips and then the inside of her mouth, never taking her eyes away from the corn cob which she was now clutching as if it were some valuable article-which I guess it was-to her.
"Get your pants back on, Richie," she said. She let me pull her up and she held my hands. Then she embraced me, squeezing my face between her ripe swollen breasts, almost suffocating me-that's how tight she was hugging.
She pulled her old robe around her body. She tied the belt.
"If you ever say a single word about this, Richie, I'll beat your bottom until it bleeds. You hear me?"
I nodded.
Then she kissed me tenderly. She forced my lips apart with the tip of her tongue and slipped it into my mouth. I started sucking on it and she fucked it in and out and then giving me one more bear hug, she released me.
"You wait here for a while. I'm going back to the house and see what Elsie's doing. You come back in about five minutes, hear? We'll eat something for lunch and then, if you want, you and Elsie can ride up to the dam and go in swimming." She turned. "But not bare-ass! You understand that?"
I wondered how she knew we did that!
I stood at the edge of the hayloft and watched her go down the ladder. The top of her robe came open and I could see her breasts swaying. She looked up at me and saw where my eyes were.
"Richie, God wouldn't like to see you looking down my robe, would he?" She closed it coyly.
Then she was gone, not looking back. Watching her cross the yard I saw her take a hairpin from the robe pocket, then roll her long hair up and pin it in the bun she usually wore. Her fingers must have touched some of my prick goo because I saw her look at them and then a tiny smile flitting across her features, put them into her mouth.
The very second she entered the house and I heard the screen door slam shut, I heard Elsie's secret whistle!
The shrill noise came as such a shock I almost tripped off the edge of the loft and plunged down to the stone floor of the barn.
There sat Elsie! Across in the tool crib where the farmhands kept the long wagon poles and the pitch forks used for haying.
"So...?" she said, shaking her head.
"You spying bastard!" I responded.
"... and with my own mother, too," she sobbed, "and you said you loved ME!"
"But I do ... I do, Elsie."
"You are a liar and a cheat!"
I didn't know what to do.
"Are you going to tell...." I hesitated. Who could she tell? That suddenly dawned on me. Certainly not her mother. Maybe The Right Reverend Hadlie down at church?
"God will punish you, Richie. I know He will. The Heavens will open and He will torture you and bury you in Hell ... after he sets fire to your cock!"
She was really sobbing. "My own ... my own dear mother ... and you, doing what the Beasts of the Fields do! I can't believe it. I just can't!"
"Elsie," I mumbled, "I'll let you have my whole snake collection, even the little babies ... if ... if you will forgive me."...." even the little babies? You promise me that, Richie?"
Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have traded my snakes for all the ... well, these days I don't remember what could have been more precious-so I swallowed hard and cried a bushel of silent tears. But you understand, I couldn't ... just couldn't Be Sent to Hell and have Him set fire to my cock....
It was well worth a shoebox full of vipers!
CHAPTER SIX
The scene that took place about three hours later is worth recording. Elsie and I had ridden the horses up to the dam, but it was crowded, so we rode back to the farm. It was also turning into a rainy day and that's how it is sometimes up there in the country; beautiful till about three or four, then terrible. Because of the valley, I suppose.
Elsie and I hadn't done too much talking since I promised her the snakes. At lunch it was really quiet and Mom would now and then look at me and wink and smile prettily, but Elsie brooded. I felt real shaky sitting there, and also something else-because whenever Mom would stand up to get something from the stove or the icebox, my prick would throb just at the sight and the hot memories of her bottom and her shimmering naked titties. My prick still felt funny from being up inside her asshole. I had to force myself to not remember as I ate.
When Mom shooed us out the door to go swimming she gave me a love pat on my bottom and then turning quickly, went upstairs. And in a nutty way this is how we got started, Elsie and me, on the subject of spankings and punishment for doing bad things-such as what Mom and I had done up in the corn crib.
"Elsie," I asked, "if Mom knew about you watching us, do you think she'd beat you up?"
"She'd skin me alive."
I remember thinking briefly that if I blackmailed Elsie, you know, threatening to tell her mother on her watching, that maybe I could save my snake collection, but then, even my young boyish brain put it all back together and I got to wondering what Mom would really do if she knew Elsie had seen her poking the corn cob up into her hairy cunt and me licking her asshole and putting my cock up into her ass.
There was really nothing-nothing that Mom could do about it. Mom was guilty! Elsie was guilty. And I wasn't a member of the family. So Hah!
I could blackmail both of them!
But, and I want you to believe this, in all truth I was a God-Fearing lad with a tendency to be kind and tolerant. I never took other peoples' things and the lies I did tell were positively necessary ones. So I couldn't reallv blackmail anybody. Besides, I kept thinking, as Elsie and I trotted across the fields heading back to the house, there wasn't anything I really wanted or needed from Elsie and her Mom-except sex; and from what my childish brain could deduce, I wasn't going to encounter any difficulty obtaining this from either.
So I kind of smiled to myself and dismissed the subject.
The minute we both walked into the house to get a drink of milk or something, Mom screamed out for Elsie to come upstairs. Elsie glanced at me, panic in her eyes. "She's mad!"
"What about?"
"Something stupid I didn't do, or the other way."
Wasn't it always that?
Elsie ran up the stairs two at a time. I stood down at the bottom so I could hear. I'll say one thing now about Mrs. Grant, Mom, that is, when she gets mad she's like a bull in cock pain, and her anger is always for some really stupid reason, for something that could be changed in a single minute and put back right normal, but she goes on and on, worrying the issue to death, and if you gave her an argument or tried to defend yourself in any way, that only irritated her further; so the best method Elsie had learned about when she was ten, was to say absolutely nothing, do what Mom wanted and hope to get out of her sight.
But guilts are a funny thing, aren't they?
And this was what was bothering Mom, not the fact that Elsie didn't put the pins and needles back where they belonged; not the fact that there were loose threads all over the rug-but the fact that Mom felt suddenly guilty about what happened with herself and me up in the barn. How I sensed this at so youthful an age, I don't know, but sense it I did!
Standing there listening to Mom rant and rave, I knew she guessed that Elsie hadn't been doing what she should have been doing while she and I were having sex; so what was Elsie really doing? I'd bet a whole box of Chicklets that I hit the thing on the nose. But I kept my own counsel, so to say, and listened and flinched and suffered listening to Elsie's hysterical screams as her mother whipped her naked ass. And she was really slapping her bottom hard. I could hear the open palms of her hand crashing down on Elsie's bare behind, because this was the treatment. Once Elsie accidentally lost her Sunday School collection, and we tried hard to borrow from other kids but couldn't, and Mom found out and Elsie couldn't sit down until the next day. Truly!
So, listening to poor Elsie scream and cry and beg Mom to stop, my heart went out to her and I knew I loved Elsie more than ever, that I'd even give her my rock collection, anything I owned, that's how sorry I felt as she kept suffering from the vicious slapping.
When Mom finally got it out of her system, she rushed downstairs.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her eyes wild, her hand feeling her mouth, breathing hard.
"I was just going, Mom."
"You're spending too much time over here! Get back to those foster people! I don't want to set eyes on you until tomorrow in church, do you hear?"
I had tears in my eyes. I ran out of the house. I jumped up on Karl and raced home.
Well, I don't believe I was back home any more than one hour when Mrs. Hauser (my foster-mother) told me that Mom wanted me down to the church for an organ rehearsal. She had called up.
I went to the barn and told Karl he'd have to wait to finish his supper later and I galloped down to church.
This was most unusual, an organ rehearsal on Saturday night. But this was one of those dull Saturday nights, no festivals or young peoples' meetings, the grown-up men in most of the church families had gone off fishing; and Reverend Hadlie, everyone knew, was gone off to see his brother (along with Gus, the sexton) somewhere in Eastern Maryland, which was the reason choir practice had been suspended. The Rev. wouldn't be back before service at sunrise Sunday.
So the only things guarding the church were the ghosts of the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY. But there was no one around in Oaks to steal anything anyway, except maybe the coons.
I hitched up Karl in the stable and shinnied up on the churchhouse roof, one of my special hiding places behind the tall stone chimney. I used to climb up here a lot. No one could see you. It was getting dark and it was drizzling gently and it was very peaceful in the country.
I love being alone by myself listening to wild things grow and field birds bitch at one another and sometimes make love.
I couldn't see a light for miles, when far away I saw truck lights approaching down the curving bacK road tnai ltd to the four comers wnere me church stood. In the country you get to recognize every light.
It was one of Mrs. Grant's farmhands wheeling the old pick-up truck, sometimes vanishing from my sight, going around the wide bends, then bumping and bouncing on the rain-pot holes, then coming fast like it was late for church. As it came closer and then pulled into the church yard I could see Elsie sitting next to her mother. The driver was Kneut, a guy I'll tell you more about later.
They got out; Kneut backed out, turned and sped away.
Mom Grant's voice, even though she was speaking softly to Elsie, was crystal clear in the weird silence.
"I just hope you understand one thing." She paused. "And it's not easy to explain this, I mean, being your mother-and all that. But it's always better to tell the truth, especially in the family. What you saw Richie and me doing ... is called lusting."
I gulped. Elsie had told Mom she watched. Mom had probably beat it out of her. I felt crazy shivers running all over me. Real sharp slivers of fear! Icy!
"When you don't have your man around, Elsie," she went on, "you go into heat more often, just like the mares and the stupid cows. God don't like it. It's sinning. It's blaspheming. But what God don't know ain't going to hurt Him."
Mom had no idea I could hear every word.
"Like I told you back in the house...." and from here she went on explaining to Elsie all about human sex and how it wasn't much different from animals. She said every human being must have it. That sex was one of God's true blessings, but that the church sometimes didn't agree with God. She also told Elsie that lusting wasn't necessarily evil. It wasn't dirty when it stayed home in the family. She didn't have to tell Elsie about babies and all that because farm kids like us know everything, but she did explain that putting the cock up into the asshole saved a lot of worry and less aggravation. She told Elsie why she used the corn cob up her pussy and Elsie giggled.
She talked on and on for about fifteen minutes. Then she began looking around, Elsie following her. "Where is that kid?" she asked.
"Maybe Richie had an accident, Mom," Elsie said.
"No, not him. Richie's too careful. He's a good boy," she said. Now they were standing right below me, next to the rain spout and the rain barrel.
"Now, listen to me carefully. When Richie gets down here I'm going to tell him that both you and me had this talk, see, and that we're not going to have any more dirty secrets. It's all right with me that you kiss and pet because it's as natural as eating cherry pie; and I think Richie's old enough and man enough to understand all this too."
"I think he is, Mom."
"So do I, honey."
"Mom, I like you better now."
I couldn't see them but I heard them kiss. Mom told Elsie to come with her into the church, that they'd wait inside because the rain was drizzling harder now.
This was when I slipped down off the roof and went swiftly into the stable. I unhitched Karl. I quietly walked him around to the road and then I climbed on and reared him around and galloped into the church yard, making a lot of extra noise.
I tied Karl to the side porch of the church and stomped in. I found them in the big, empty kitchen in the church house itself. And I almost dropped dead. Mom was smoking a cigarette!
Reverend Hadlie was always screaming in his high-pitched voice that cigarettes were the Devil's own and anybody smoking went straight to Hell with a one-way ticket. And there she was ... smoking, brazen-like, using a coffee cup for an ashtray.
Elsie smiled at me and I melted inside.
Well, the three of us sat there in all that funny church quiet and Mom repeated to me everything I'd listened to up on the roof. I can remember blushing, being shocked, feeling feverish, getting horny, almost fainting but secretly loving every dirty moment. I was itching all over to hug Elsie and Mom, kiss them, do any wild, insane thing-and Mom was giving us permission.
Incredible!
After a minute Mom got up and went into the Vestry Room. She came back with a bottle of blessed wine.
"The Reverend won't ever miss it," she smiled at us two youngsters. "Elsie, go in the pantry and get us some glasses." she added, opening the bottle. I'll always remember it; a California burgundy, the blood of the Lamb, God's milk, the tears of Jesus.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Why most men have their own particular sexual partialities is explained psychologically. There's the oral sucking type who's usually very talkative; there's the animal-like piston fucker ramming his cock either down her throat or up her cunt; and there's the so-called perverted homosexual and his or her peculiar tastes in and out of bed; and finally, there's the "ass" man and the "tit" man.
I'm an "ass" man.
If the scientists argue that the "tit" man got that way because his mother deprived him of baby milk, what was the assman deprived of? So-to hell with psychological explanations: I know exactly where I learned about generating into an assman. It was back on that farm.
When you grow up surrounded by dogshit, horseshit, cow and bullshit, chickenshit, does human excrement come to mean anything more offensive? Does it have any more significance? The answer is no. Except that the farm kid, used to the general smell of shit all around, has a tendency to keep his own asshole a lot cleaner than say a city kid would. I know this to be an absolute fact.
Well, I must have had a reason for that digression; now I'll get back on the road-Sitting there with Elsie and her mother all alone, the three of us, in the church kitchen, I just knew something wonderful's going to happen. When Mom offered Elsie and me a cigarette and let us pour our own wine into the glasses, it was like giving us the Keys to the Kingdom. I imagined all the Saints up there in Heaven holding their hands over their eyes, with their ears stopped up by wild thundering, electrically charged lightning splitting, screaming and zig-zagging all over the place like the whole world was coming to an end.
And when she said that she thought we'd all be more comfortable in the church, sitting on the couch in back of the organ (which couldn't be seen from the congregation), and she even thought it would be okay to smoke in there, my heart began to pound. Elsie's eyes were already flashing and it wasn't just from the wine.
"We're all going to take turns sitting in the middle," Mom announced, smiling. The sound of her voice in the empty church was astonishing. She sat down on the couch. She put her wine glass and the bottle on the organ bench. Then she started to explain all over again how sex kept in the family could be a good thing.
I remember her being quite philosophical and very serious about it, the details, how whatever Elsie and I did to each other, she could know about; and whatever I did to her, Mom, there was no reason Elsie shouldn't know; and furthermore, whatever we did together to one another, well, this was 'in the family' and it was sure to be fun.
She cautioned us about ever getting mad or angry with one another. Besides, God didn't take much to people being mad with one another, anyhow; so we had to make a couple of rules, like add on to the Ten Commandments a couple or three Commandments of our own.
The first one was: (Commandment No. 11)-since Mom was the eldest, it was only natural that she would need more physical attention from both of us than we would need from each other. As she explained this, she had her hand on my knee. She was squeezed cozily between us. now and I could feel the pressure of her wonderful breast against my elbow. We were also rubbing knees and thighs.
Commandment "12" concerned the fact that because Elsie was the youngest and the most inexperienced, Mom and I would have to teach her a lot of sexy things to do to both of us, and Elsie wasn't to think anything was wrong should Mom want to kiss her anywhere, or should Mom want Elsie to use her fingers on her pussy, things like that. In other words, Mom was authorizing play with between them and insisting there was nothing dirty or wrong about two females having a good time when both felt like it.
Commandment "13" made me eligible to do anything in the whole sexual constallation to both of them, together, or one at a time EXCEPT put my penis into either of their cunts when it wasn't the right time. (Which Mom explained she would explain to us later-something about the rhythm of the moon and the tides-something like that....) She went on about asshole-fucking, asshole-licking, asshole-fingering and et cetera, Elsie and I both giggling and sometimes so embarrassed by Mom's hot sexy words that we almost turned blue.
And all this while Mom's fingers, when they weren't holding her glass, were messing around on my thigh, between them, and now and then her fingers searching for my rock-hard prick, curling around it, pinching it through-my overalls.
From the corner of my eyes I could see her other hand running up and down under Elsie's skirt. And this drove me crazy with fiery lust, a kind of lust I'd never experienced.
"Now, Richie, be a good boy and unbutton Mom's dress," I heard Mom say and my prick jumped. She sat back. "You can help, Elsie," Mom added, snuggling and grinning at both of us. By this time we'd finished at least three-quarters of the holy wine, and now I knew how the sexton, Gus, and the Rt. Rev. Hadlie felt, their heads swimming and feeling warm and good inside because they drank a lot of this wine; I'd seen them sharing the chalice in the Reverend's 'office' many a time after service.
Oh, what a thrill it was to touch Mom's naked titties once we got her dress open down to the waist. "Kiss them for me, both of you," she said softly and bent our heads down on her bosom so our lips were able to caress her large, erect nipples, her fingers on our necks, urging and pressing, our tongues flashing, sometimes Elsie's eyes meeting my eyes across the deep valley between Mom's voluptuous breasts.
Mom was sighing and then I heard Elsie moan. I glanced down to see Mom's fingers stroking Elsie's pussy, still up under her dress, but her dress climbing up higher and higher as we sucked and licked Mom's titties, until finally I could see Elsie's white cotton panties and actually watch Mom's fingers playing all over and Elsie spreading her naked thighs wider and wider apart, letting Elsie's teeth bite Mom's nipples and then her tongue licking all over the sides of her breasts while her fingers squeezed her warm flesh and danced wickedly.
Mom was having such a happy time she almost forgot that her one hand was in my lap. I suddenly wanted to feel her fingers on my prick and, as I sucked on her nipple, I moved closer to her and squirmed and she got the entire idea right away. Her fingers closed around my penis and I felt hot and horny immediately.
I was just thinking how thrilling it would be to have my prick out in the air there on the couch behind the organ bench, and Mom must have read my thoughts:
"Richie, stop a second and let Elsie take out your nice cock. Is it hard, Richie?" she laughed, and I loved the sound of her laughing in the quiet church.
"Yes," I replied, and there's Elsie bending over Mom and using both hands to unhook my belt and then slip her hand inside my overalls and find my hard cock pounding inside my underwear.
"Ohooooooo," Elsie groaned when her little fingers gripped hold of my penis. "Ohooooooooo, Mom, it's so hot, it's soooooooo hot," she exclaimed and then I felt Mom's hand down near Elsie's and although I was still sucking furiously, licking and even chewing on Mom's nipple, I just had to sneak my hand up Elsie's dress and touch her warm nest.
Now Elsie was moaning for a different reason as my fingers felt how damp, even wet her tight panties were. I used my index finger and snuck under the crotch of her panties and God, it was beautiful. Keeping sucking on Mom's nipples, I managed to slip two fingers up into Elsie's vibrating pussy and loved the noises escaping from her lips as she still lay over her mother's body so deliciously naked down to her waist.
"Isn't this fun, darlings?" Mom asked, putting one arm over Elsie and now her hand cupping her young daughter's breasts. I could see her fingers squeezing and while I kept easing my fingers in and out of Elsie, the crotch of her tight panties hugging my fingers, Elsie began to squeal and squeal and rotate her hips and then she buried her face between Mom's wet, saliva-coated breasts and began licking and sucking like a pussycat does to a warm puddle of milk.
We all jumped when we thought we heard a door slam in the church house. "Be quiet," Mom whispered! "Richie, get down by the pump. Tuck your cock back." She turned quickly to Elsie, "Get me that robe hanging over there." Elsie did this. In a flash, Mom slipped into the robe and bounced up lightly onto the organ bench. As I began to wheeze air into the bellows, and this is not a noisy operation, we all listened like cats to what was happening.
Elsie sat on the couch now. "Don't be frightened, kids," Elsie's Mom reassured us. "Whoever it is, doesn't know we're in here, and they can't see the light from out there."
This was true. We waited to hear something else, but all became silent again. Mom had handed me the bottle of wine and the coffee-cup ashtray, the glasses. I'd hid them swiftly in a box we used to keep our rubber boots in next to the organ when the weather outdoors was foul.
"Richie, hand me the bottle and go take a sneak into the church house and look around. It was probably nothing important. I got up. I handed her the bottle. She swigged deeply from it. Her naked breasts swayed under the black robe. "Hurry, Richie, hurry," Mom said. In a flash, like one of the Indians who used to scout for the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY, I soon found out that the noise was nothing more than Karl having knocked his rump against the porch. I hurried back. I told them we were safe.
My prick never got soft the whole trip. It was pounding hot now!
Mom lit another cigarette. She smiled. She sat back on the couch. Slowly she raised up her dress, ever so slowly, teasing. Elsie sat on the organ bench holding her nearly empty wine glass. She was breathing heavily.
"Richie, get down on your knees in front of me, darling. Now, since we all understand one another, it's going to be all right for you to look up my dress any time no one but Elsie's watching, not like before."
With this she raised up her heavy buttocks and then sat back down. Her hairy pussy was so beautiful to see! I'd never really ever had the time to study it. "Look at it all you want, Richie," Mom said, and then she began to rub it with her fingers, opening her thighs wider and then I saw two of her fingers vanish up inside her pussy and I could hear how wet it was.
"Elsie," Mom purred, "sit over here and play with my titties again, because Richie's going to kiss me down there like he did once before. You liked kissing and licking my cunt, didn't you, Richie?" I felt weak!
I couldn't answer, not a word. I fell down on my knees. I held her thighs with both hands and then I just buried my face between her warm, thick, naked thighs and in seconds I was tonguing her like the world was coming to an end, my tongue flashing, gliding up into her wet, sticky pussy lips while she held them open for me with her fingers, writhing and moaning softly.
Looking up I could see Elsie had Mom's robe open all the way. Elsie was squeezing and stroking Mom's breasts. Elsie was wiggling and squirming when Mom reached down and dragged up her skirt and soon I could hear Elsie moaning and whimpering as Mom fingered her young, warm pussy.
I was now sucking wildly, loving the smell, adoring the taste and those sounds coming out of Mom's cunt as I slurped on it were just beautiful!
When Mom began to squeal, like a bitch in heat, I started to chew on her wild growth of black curly hair and her meaty pussy lips, Mom gyrating her hips and calling out my name, Elsie getting hotter and hotter just listening and feeling Mom bucking and leaping up and down as I sucked her clitoris into my mouth and bit it.
Mom howled! And I can still hear that noise echoing in the empty church down at Oaks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Needless to say, no organ rehearsing got done that Saturday night. But the three of us had a marvelous time! Soon after Mom's orgasm walloped her like a barn door and Mom dared to go steal another bottle of holy wine, she sat down at the far end of the couch. She had me sitting in the middle. Elsie, with her dress high up around her waist, lay face down, belly down over our laps, her face buried on her mother's bare belly and her naked crotch right over my lap.
While Elsie had her finger up inside Mom's burning hot wet pussy, Elsie was bouncing up and down on my bare prick, only I wasn't inside her pussy. My prick was just sliding up and down between her naked, silky thighs and we were having a hell of a lot of fun!
Mom instructed me how to lick my finger and then spread Elsie's buttocks open and leaning my head over, open my mouth and spit into her asshole. When I'd do this Mom would sigh:
"Now sink your finger up her ass, Richie. Don't poke it in, just let it sink in slowly and then when it's up as deep as it can go, begin to punch it in and out, but do it gradually, slowly at first, yes, that's a good boy, now a bit faster, not too fast, that's it, and now, Richie, really stab it up fast ... faster and faster!"
As I did this, poor Elsie was bucking like a bronco on my lap and my cock between her silky fat thighs was being jerked off more and more expertly as Elsie learned how to open and close her hot thighs while I finger-fucked her tight asshole. Elsie was moaning and squealing and, at the same time, fingering Mom's open pussy like mad.
At times both females were screaming for joy and it sounded like the crazy noises you read about coming from a Mad House.
After a while of this, Mom got up and faced Elsie. She raised up her knees and nuzzled Elsie's face back into her hairy crotch, holding Elsie by her ears.
"Oh, darling," Mom was groaning, "suck my cunt, honey, suck it ... ohoooooo, yes! SUCK IT HARD! Suck it HARD for me. Swallow it in your mouth, my little baby, suck ... oh, eat it, Elsie, SUCK ... BITE ME ... Oh, Lord God! Oh, Jesus! Lick it up. Don't stop ... DON'T STOP NOW ... ohoooooo, sweetie! Do it ... DO IT! SUCK ... SUCK ... SUCK!!"
Mom was bumping up and down, holding Elsie's head like it might run away. I could hear Elsie slobbering and coughing when she'd get a mouthful of Mom's bushy hair in the mouth, when Mom's sweet thick creamy juices which I was growing to love the smell and taste of, would stuff up her nose and Elsie would snort and carry on, all the time Mom's hot, sexy words echoing in our ears.
Elsie's fat, rounded naked bottom was jumping and bouncing. My prick was getting red as she kept it tight between her thighs. All the time I had my finger diving deep up her asshole, then coming out, real slippery and then sinking back up, Mom screaming that I should do it to Elsie harder and harder, faster and faster, that I wasn't to be afraid of hurting her darling, tight asshole.
Elsie was shivering and trembling and moaning all at once. Her face was buried between her Mom's thighs now and I could hear her sucking and slurping and see her swishing her head back and forth like a dog shaking a rag.
I thought I was going to shoot off any minute. I kept squeezing Elsie's fat buttocks with one hand. I kept finger-fucking her hot asshole with the other. And pretty soon I knew my prick was going to blast. It got hotter and hotter every time Elsie would clamp her thick thighs tight together and squeeze my cock as it sailed up and down inside her thighs, rubbing against her hairy bush sometimes and at others, just grazing over it.
Mom was now shouting and I knew that Jesus could hear her! That's how loud. Her hot words were bouncing off the altar, from the chandelier in the back, and from one pew to the other as Elsie sucked her into a shattering orgasm.
We were all breathing so hard it sounded as if the organ bellows pump had leaks in it, squeals, yells and Mom, "FUCK ... FUCK ... Oh, SHIT, RICHIE, get up and stick your prick up her ass! RICHIE, DO YOU HEAR ME?" she screamed at the top of her lungs, "GET UP AND SHOVE YOUR PRICK UP HER ASS WHILE SHE'S ... WHILE ... SHE'S ... OHOOOOOOO, SHIT, sit-shit-shit, Richie, do it ... dooooooooo it now ... NOW, FUCK HER ASS FOR ME!"
I climbed out from under Elsie's throbbing body. I kneeled on the couch. I spread open her asscheeks. I leaned closer. I aimed my pounding tool right at her asshole's opening. By now it was really greased up because all the while I'd been fingering it like a piston pumping in and out, I'd spit down at it and Elsie would scream and this would make her asshole hotter.
I put the tip of my prong right next to her hole. All I had to do was guide it with my right hand. I kept her cheeks spread apart with my other. I wondered what she would do when she felt my prick sink in. My prick's much thicker and longer than my finger, even back in those days....
Elsie now started to pump back and slide forward. She never stopped chewing on Mom's clitoris or her slippery, slimy pussy lips as my cock, neatly aimed, began to enter.
When it slipped in about two inches, Elsie yelled!
"Oh, NO! Take ... TAKE IT BACK OUT. Oh, God! Richie ... RICHIE!! I can't stand it ... take ... OH, RICHIE, PULL IT OUT ... Oh, I'm going to shit ... I'MMMMMMMMM going-to-shit, I swear. TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT, DAMN IT! PULL ... puuuuuuuulllllll it OUT!"
Mom was staring at me, her eyes half open, her lips parted. Her robe was open and she was massaging her huge, naked breasts while Elsie was screaming into her cunt. I kept my prick in but just didn't move and pretty soon poor Elsie began to just moan and groan and stop screaming.
I took the weight off her body. I kind of kneeled back but held onto her waist. I could see the head of my thick cock up inside her asshole, her muscles holding it in there. Several times she tried to shit my prick out, grunting and squealing how much it still hurt, but then I noticed that instead of pushing my cock out, her asshole seemed to be sucking it in ... even deeper. So I gave a gentle, soft shove and in my cock went another inch.
This time Elsie didn't say a word. But she wasn't sucking her Mom anymore, she was just lying there with her ass up in the air and her face on her mother's thigh.
Mom looked far out of it, but she was still pinching and squeezing her fat, heavy breasts, stroking them, cupping them and fondling as she stared at me down there, kneeling still, gently fucking my cock up into Elsie's asshole.
Then she put her hand on Elsie's head.
"It feels good, doesn't it, honey, now that you're getting used to Richie's cock up there, huh?"
"Uhmmmmmmmmm, yes ... yesssssss, not so much pain now. Yes. It feels funny, so much. So fat. It's so thick, and it feels like I still want to shit, Mom, will I shit ... willlllllll I?" she squealed and her voice began to change as I started to fuck her asshole a bit harder. Now she wasn't trying to get away at all. The opposite was true. She was now fucking back and I knew she was liking it by the soft way she was moaning and her whimpering wasn't loud anymore, and she was wiggling her wonderful naked buttocks and squirming from side to side as my prick sunk in even deeper.
"Fuck her ass, Richie ... fuck her ass, dear boy, keep going in and out, just like you did with your finger the way I taught you. She likes it, Richie. I can tell. She really likes your cock up her ass, just the way I do, honey boy."
And so I began to fuck harder!
I can't describe how wonderful all this felt. I loved watching Elsie move so lasciviously as she was now doing, soft, gently rolling her buttocks as I jabbed in and out, sometimes my prick almost slipping out altogether and Elsie rearing back like a cow, moaning for me to shove it up deeper, and I did, time and time again until I was thrusting and snorting like a bull.
And believe me, I hope God will strike me dead, but I shot off up her hot asshole with no warning whatsoever.
I just blasted! I felt it coming, or so I think, but it happened so fast, my head began to swim. I felt hot flushes from the tips of my toes all the way up to the roots of my hair. I was shivering, but still holding on tight to her waist with both hands.
As for Elsie, she was going wild! She was churning and bucking her asscheeks so violently, it was all I could do to hold on and not get bounced off the couch. The noise of the couch straining under the rocking motion was like a brand new kind of music to my ears. The sucking sounds of my cock as her asshole swallowed it while it was shooting off were maddening!
I fell over on top of her and this mashed her down, her face once more falling between her mother's open, hairy thighs.
I pulled my prick all the way out. I'd never seen it look so thick and fat and long. I tried to sit back up and finally made it, balancing my back against the arm rest of the couch. I could hardly catch my breath.
Both Elsie and Mom Grant was quiet for a long time.
Then Mom's eyes fluttered and she opened them. She smiled softly at me. Elsie still had her face buried.
"Richie, you're a good boy. God loves you." I thought to myself that had HE seen us, if only HE had just listened to us, He'd be on the telephone on the hot line to Hell instructing, the Devil himself on the size of the fire he was to build.
But at the same time I remember feeling quite safe. I don't know where guilts come from, maybe you do, but I didn't seem to have any then. All I did know was that I now loved assholes and especially dear Elsie's darling hole. I loved her fat, round buttocks, just to touch and look at, so beautiful.
I remember that night very well now, now that I'm sitting here writing about what happened. I guess that was the beginning of the 'assman' part of my life ... which was to continue ... in many ways and many other assholes.
When we all heard Kneut in the pick-up, come screeching down the road and turn into the gravel of the church yard, we hurried to get all together. Elsie could hardly walk. She kept holding her burning asshole.
I remember slinking out the backside of the church and unhitching Karl. I waited till I heard them all drive off, headed back for their farm, before I snuck back into church.
I went into the Vestry and had no trouble at all getting a bottle of holy wine. I buried it in one of the stables of the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY, and then I galloped off through the fields toward the foster farm where I knew I'd catch Holy Hell from Mrs. Hauser if she'd checked my bed and found me missing.
But I got home safe. I made sure that Karl got his supper at last. I had myself a glass of cold milk and then I went up to the attic where I slept.
Young Elva was waiting for me under the bed.
"I've got something new to teach you, honey," I whispered to her and she crawled in with me.
I made her lie on her belly. I took down her pajamas and then instead of kissing and licking her pussy which was what we were accustomed to doing, I spread her buttocks apart gently and began to kiss softly.
"Ohooooooo, Richie ... that's my asshole, stupid," she murmured, her face buried in my pillow.
CHAPTER NINE
The details of many of my youthful Sunday mornings blend together, those in the lonely wintertime, the first in spring, those during the hot summer months and the outrageous beauty of those in autumn ... but none, or so I suppose, will be as well remembered as the Sunday following that Saturday night.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder (we know this now) and that Sunday Elsie looked as radiantly beautiful as any Virgin Mary or Jane, any of the saintly females of yore, her pretty blue eyes gleaming, her soft hair floating down on her shoulders, a foxy grin on her pink lips when she first saw me as she and her mother arrived down at church.
They were early as usual and the rest of the church community had yet to arrive. I signaled to Elsie and we met back in the cavalry stables. Mom had a lot of music chores to do when she came and she went off for her coffee and God's Duty.
"Oh, God, Richie," Elsie exclaimed, falling into my arms. I couldn't get over how much weight Elsie was losing every day. Her face was getting really pretty, and her breasts, God, swelling up like wild young field melons, hardening, the curves under her blouse becoming more and more exciting and stimulating.
"What's wrong?"
"My asshole, honey, it's still on fire!"'
"Want me to lick it and put out the fire?"
"Oh, yes, honey, would you, Richie?"
Would I?? What a silly question!
I took her around to the back near where our graveyard was. No one but the birds could see us back here. The tombstone I led her to was one of those table-top kind you don't see much of anymore. The guy buried under it about one hundred years earlier was named Rob't Oscar Kharlsin, and you could hardly read the inscription.
I took out my handkerchief and dusted it off.
"Bend over here, Elsie," I told her. "You won't get dirty, I promise."
"Be tender, honey," she said, spreading her legs apart as I kneeled down on the earth behind her. I first teased her a little, running my hands up her thighs past her knees and feeling her silky flesh.
"Oh, hurry, honey, my ass's on fire, honest. I couldn't even shit this morning...."
I had to smile. I poked my head up under her skirt which was like a tent. I reached up and pulled down her panties after first brushing my face across her bottom cheeks, so full and round.
Then when I inched her tight white panties down, I kissed her bare bottom ... all over. Then I licked it for her and she giggled. "Oh, that's tickling me to death, Richie, that's making my pussy hot, honey."
Then I spread her asscheeks open and there was the pale brown heart of my desire. My prick began to throb. I used my tongue. I licked up first, just missing those cute, tiny dark brown hairs that ringed the very bottom of her pussy hole. How good it smelled as I rubbed my nose in it. Already she was wet and it wasn't pee wet.
I dipped my tongue into her asshole after I kissed it.
"Oh, Richie ... ohoooooooo, Richie! RICHIE!"
I stuck my tongue into it after opening her asshole as wide as I could get it. It winked at me.
"Lick it again, honey."
"You like when I lick your asshole, Elsie?"
"Oh, honey. Yes. Yes, I love it. Your tongue's so smooth. It's a wonderful boy-tongue. Yes ... ohoooooo, lick me ... my asshole. It's feeling much better. It's so hot ... but it's getting better. Your tongue's so wet and cool."
I began to suck on it now. I spread her buttocks open and began to squeeze them open and shut as I licked and sucked alternately, dabbing my tongue, then swabbing it and then washing all over her fat globes before spearing my tongue back into her love hole.
"Yes, honey...." she was murmuring, holding onto the table-top tombstone, wiggling and then beginning to wobble from side to side, my head up under the tent of her skirt.
Pretty soon I had her shivering with passion and she was whimpering, making little cries and beginning to swivel her ass as I licked and sometimes playfully took a bite out of her heavy buttocks, making her squeal 'ouch!' 'ouch!'
"Want me to suck on your pussy, too, Elsie?"
"Oh, Richie, no! I couldn't stand it! I just could not take it now, Richie, honey. I'd go crazy having to sit in church all that time with Mom and suffer from your tongue."
This was one of the longest sentences I'd ever heard Elsie say.
"Okay, then," I said. I went back to licking and nuzzling her asshole with my nose and tongue. How she loved it! Wiggling and squirming, starting to bump back and forth like she'd done only last night.
"Should I stick my finger up?"
"No, Richie. It'd hurt."
"Bet it won't."
"Oh, no. I just know it'll hurt. It's so tender and sore from your thick cock. I'd die if you stuck up your finger. I'd scream...."
But she didn't sound too convincing because she was now writhing and even helping me, and when I saw her one hand sneak up under her skirt and her fingers begin to rub over the soft, downy pussy hair, and then one finger disappear up inside between her pussy lips, I rubbed my fingernail over her asshole and she hissed!
"Richie, do it! Richie, do it now. NOW! Stick in one finger ... ohoooooooo, Richie, yessssss. IN ... hard, like last ... last night, Richie. Oh, God, shit, Richie, it's hurt ...ing ... but it's so ... soooooooo lovely a hurt, yesssssssss, honey, in deep. Oh, I wish your prick was in there ... your prick, honey ... that fine prick...."
I jabbed it up deep. I pulled it out. I let it sink in, then I wiggled it all around while it was buried up her asshole and she was going insane.
"Richie, I think I'm going to have to pee, ohoooooooo, honey ... and I just peed. Richie. RICHIE! Get out of there. AS QUICK AS YOU CAN!"
I ducked out and plopped back on the earth. Elsie was pissing....
Well, that's how that Sunday started.
I should note that none of us, Mom, Elsie or myself, felt any of that 'morning-after' embarrassment people usually feel after they start something new sexually with each other. In fact, we all felt warm and intimate and close because we were sharing a mighty secret from not only Rev. Hadlie and the entire congregation, but hopefully from God Himself. And so far, pumping the organ into the second hymn of the morning I could see no sign of God's or Jesus' wrath making itself known.
Everything seemed quite normal.
That is, except for Gus, the sexton, and the Reverend.
Both these Men of God looked totally worn out and even emaciated, like they'd been plowing in the hot sun since they went off to see whoever it was down in Maryland. I also smelled whisky on the Reverend's breath when I helped him with his vestments (one of my jobs). Gus looked green behind the gills and when he was ringing the great bells calling the Beloved from their homes, he missed quite a few bongs.
So much for that.
When the Eight o'clock service ended, everyone ate breakfast in the church house. The women took care of the table setting and the cooking. The men washed up. Sunday School was at 9:30; Bible Study at 10:15, and the main service at 11:00, lasting until 12:30.I could tell the Rt. Rev. Hadlie could hardly wait to pour the holy wine into the chalice for Communion later. It was his custom to have a little of his own Communion first, then he'd refill the chalice before letting me take it into the altar. With his back slightly turned to me, he took a small brown bottle from his trouser pocket. I pretended to be looking out the window. We prepared for the service while the others finished their breakfast. So there was no question in my mind that the Rev. and Gus had hung one on just like the farmhands did. And I didn't see God nor His Son, Jesus, doing anything about that! So, what in the hell did I have to worry about?
I passed the room where Elsie taught bead-stringing to the little ones. I got her attention and nodded she was to meet me in the stables. She smiled broadly, letting her eyes fall to my crotch. I hurried out the back and after casing the place, saw that it was perfectly safe for me to dig up our bottle of holy wine and have a kind of little personal unholy communion all by ourselves alone together....
After the rain of the night before it was a beautifully crisp spring morning, all of God's creatures joyfully alive and kicking, and this included my cock. As I sat on an old cavalry Smithy bench in this one stable where they used to shoe the horses, I had my Sunday pants down to my knees along with my underwear. I loved playing with my naked prick outdoors in those days and was jerking it merrily with one hand while I held the open bottle of holy wine with the other, sipping from it occasionally as I daydreamed fantasies of Elsie and her Mom, going over and over again the wonderful, exciting fun we'd had last night, remembering Elsie with her tongue up inside Mom's pussy, and Elsie's tight young-girl asshole loving my cock as it plunged in and out. Oh, what fun!!
Elsie came around the corner our secret way. Her hand flew to her mouth when she saw me with my bare cock in my hand. "Oh, Richie, honey, whatever are you doing?"
"Thinking about you," I said. "Come here and have some wine." She did and she took a deep swallow and then shivered as the burning holy water went down into her belly. "Strong stuff!" she muttered. Then she glanced around swiftly. She spotted a four-legged stool. She drew this up at my feet as I sat up on the bench. She smiled up at me tenderly and then she put her hands on my naked thighs and began to scratch my flesh. She bent her face down quite close to my stiffening prick and blew her wine breath on it. It reared up and almost touched her pink lips.
I took the wine bottle and poured just a few drops on my erect prick. Elsie stared. Then getting the idea, she bent her head and sticking out her tongue began to lick my prick gently, softly. Each time I'd drop a few more dribbles of wine, Elsie would lick them up. Finally, neither of us could bare the suspense any longer. I held my moist prick with one hand and guided it to her lips and Elsie opened her mouth and then covered my prick with it and in seconds she was sucking me off.
This was really the first authentic time, and she was doing a splendid job, taking my whole prick down her throat without gagging, then slipping back until just the tip remained between her lips. She would nibble on the rosy head and then gallop down on it until it vanished, her throat making gurgling noises as I'd pump it slowly until she would whip off of it and then jerk it furiously with her hand before aiming it back into her mouth, her tongue gliding lasciviously, wantonly all over it and down to my naked balls, all the while her fingernails scratching my thighs.
We didn't hear anyone coming, but we damn well should have had! I was just about to shoot down Elsie's throat and she was gobbling wildly, her head working like a jack-hammer, my cock so hard I could have used it to pole vault.
We didn't hear him coming, but I suddenly felt like we weren't alone. We weren't!
There stood the Most Reverend Harry H. Hadlie, DMS, and KLW!!
CHAPTER TEN
I don't know what they do in most churches when they catch you red-handed like Elsie and I were, but Rev. Hadlie was rough enough. He was furious about the wine! He hissed at me to get my clothes back on and then he instructed us to follow him to the Vestry. Our hearts were in our mouths! He strode ahead of us like a giant Christian attacking a horde of wild, hungry lions, arms swinging, the wine bottle glistening in the morning sun.
He told us that what he'd witnessed had him so confused the only thing he knew to do was to kneel and pray and ask for God's help in making some kind of immediate decision. As we kneeled there in the center of the Vestry, on the rug, the Rev. was soon able to make contact up in Heaven. While she and I trembled and feared the worst, (Elsie would have her tongue cut out and I would have my cock cut off with a fire hatchet), the Rev. was having a brisk two-way conversation with the Almighty and his advisors.
It was like waiting for a horse race to end.
Finally, he stood up, like an old man, mumbling for us to remain on our knees. He sat heavily in his chair. On orders, we recited a lot of baby prayers, checked out the Ten Commandments, the thorny path of sinners, the fat camel trying to squeeze through the eye of the needle, and at last through the' valley of death. The Rev. assured us that he understood our problems, but of course, it wasn't within his jurisdiction to take any direct action because what we'd done was like number one on the Sin List and so few kids he'd ever known did this and got reported to God, that God and his court would have to debate the degree of punishment. They would possibly have to consult with the Devil himself to see if he had any space left in the hottest of all fiery furnaces, but in the meantime we were to go about our duties like normal. He promised that once he heard from Above, he would let us know. He said he would also pray for our souls every minute of the day and night until God spoke. And with this, we were both excused, Elsie to return to bead-stringing and I to the organ bellows where I was to sit in silent prayer until it was time to pump for the Processional.
Mom noticed something was wrong right away. I was really one scared kid. I could smell hell fire and taste burning flesh. I didn't know what to tell Mom. I wasn't so sure I should say anything just yet, because the Rev. had hinted that he might hear from God sometime during the service; so I just answered the question in her eyes with my smile and she grinned back and went on to mumbling to herself as she studied the music scores on the organ.
The choir was lining up out in front of the church and the congregation was settling itself down as usual. Somehow the whole world seemed so unreal to me then. I had remembered thinking about all the sexy things I was going to do to Mom during the long, always deathless sermon, but now this wasn't going to happen. My heart just wasn't in it.
And I was also glad that on this particular Sunday Elsie would be sitting with the choir and not near her mother, that is, glad for Elsie's sake. I knew she was a nervous wreck.
Rev. Hadlie's sermons were never off the cuff, but he ad-libbed a lot with this one, juvenile delinquency, late hours, theft, how unauthorized sex was filth, etc. etc.
At last came the Recessional and I pumped like fury itself. The choir passed out the back in slow motion and after the last crescendo I dashed from under the organ and raced out to the cemetery where I threw up the wine I'd drunk so happily while Elsie had my stiff cock down her lovely throat.
Well, Mr. Hadlie let Elsie and I burn until about 3:30 when the Young Peoples' Fellowship broke up. Back in church for the Spring Blessing of the Planting, the Seeds, the Tractors, the Plows, and advice newly discovered on the construction of scarecrows and chicken hawk protection, he announced, to the utter relief of everyone, that he was postponing the Eventide Service, but-
... but he was also forming a new young peoples' group whose aim it would be to increase money collections for our missionary brethern in darkest Africa and elsewhere. And to this end, he wished the presence of one Elsie Grant and one Richard Stoltzfus (that's me) in his office. We were to be the boy and the girl chairmen of the new missionary committee. As for the rest of the congregation, they were dismissed to the service of God at home and in the fields.
Rev. Hadlie shook everybody with both hands at the door and the worshippers took off. He told Mom Grant that he would personally see Elsie home safely. I, of course, had my horse and could take care of myself. A couple of kids and a few elders congratulated Elsie and I on being selected by Reverend Hadlie. Then we were all alone.
"Follow me, Elsie and Richie," he said.
I heaved a sigh of relief and whispering, tried to reassure Elsie. She was still quivering madly, ready to cry any second. We waited patiently while Rev. Hadlie had a few words with Gus, then heard Gus drive off.
Rev. Hadlie lived upstairs over the church house. I had been up there a couple of times on errands. It was okay. A large living room. A bedroom and a toilet. He either ate downstairs or took his meals with different families in the congregation.
"We will have our little meeting upstairs," he said over his shoulder. Still wearing his long black hassock, he led us upstairs, Elsie and I squeezing each other's hand. I patted her ass once and she shrinked!
"Sit over there on the couch, my children."
We watched him go into the bedroom. We both heard the tinkling of a glass, the noise of a bottle top striking it gently. We looked at each other knowingly. I managed to get a little smile out of Elsie when I pinched her knee. But we were sitting well apart when he returned.
"God has told me," he began, "that you both should be punished, but that also you should understand that He is a sympathetic and benevolent and understanding God...." He worried religion and theology for a while. We sat motionless waiting for the axe to fall. "You both should be spanked soundly, and this is the proposition I'm going to put to you. Elsie Grant, do you know you have sinned ... in ... in doing what you did to Richie?"
"Yes, Reverend Hadlie." She began to cry.
"And, you, Richard, do you understand that permitting or encouraging Elsie to perform such a lewd act, is also a mortal sin?"
I wondered briefly what he would have thought if he knew I'd fucked her asshole, but I just answered that I understood.
"Elsie, take down your underwear." When he said this, he got up and walked into his bedroom. Once more we heard the glass tinkling and the gurgling of liquid as it poured from the bottle.
I whispered hurriedly to Elsie. "It can't be worse than what your mother's done, but make a lot of noise. Cry real loud and scream, too." She nodded. She reached under her dress and pulled down her panties. She didn't know what to do with them so she slipped them under a pillow on the couch.
The Reverend returned. He had a hairbrush in his hand.
"Richard, I'm going to administer this punishment to Elsie first. It will be a lesson to you." Here he interrupted himself, sipping from the newly filled glass. "I promise both of you that what's going to happen in this room will be witnessed only by God above and ourselves. I have decided not to tell your mother, Elsie, nor your foster-mother, Mrs. Hauser, Richard."
I almost collapsed with relief! Elsie gulped!
"If you had only come to me with your problems, this punishment would not be necessary. I must warn you that God's wrath is as severe as his love is gentle; therefore, I repeat, no one, no one is to learn of your misdeeds nor how they are going to be resolved. And, furthermore," he paused to drink again, "should you persist in this behavior in the future, God will learn of it. He will inform me in prayer and your punishment will increase. Is this fully understood, both of you?"
We both shook our heads. What he was saying in essence was that he would keep our secret if we didn't tell on him. Something like that. And, like a lamb to the slaughter, Elsie crossed the room to where he was sitting. I watched eagerly.
She lay obediently across his lap. Not looking over at me, he lifted up her skirt, baring her lovely white buttocks in all their magnificent glory. He spanked her bare bottom with the open palm of his hand. At first, the blows were light, then increased in intensity as Elsie's flesh began to turn red, then bright red as his hand flew through the air and the sound of her flesh being whipped increased in tempo. Elsie was squirming and moaning at first, then screaming in pain as Reverend Hadlie rested, then started again on her other cheek, then alternated between both, never looking up at me, sometimes holding Elsie down as she kicked with her legs and squirmed on his lap, his open palm flailing and whipping savagely until Elsie was biting her thumb, wailing and weeping and shivering with pain.
Then he used the brush on her sorry-looking buttocks, slashing with it, his eyes wide, his hair falling down over his forehead, his body bouncing on the chair as poor Elsie suffered her torture. Her sobs were heart-rending but I knew they really weren't, because now and then she'd swing her head over in my direction and I could see a tiny smile in her tear-flooded eyes.
"Now," he said, "get down on your knees and pray for God's forgiveness." Elsie climbed off and staggered a bit for effect and then fell down on her knees in the center of the room. She was crying her heart out.
"Richard, come over here and drop your pants and your underwear and take your place on my lap!"
This was when I first discovered I had a terrific hard-on. Terrific. I had been so busy watching that I wasn't conscious of this. But I put my back to him and almost tripping over myself, made it toward him and lay over his lap, my pants and shorts down to my ankles.
Even before the whipping began I almost came on his robe. And when he discovered I had an erection, which even a blind man would have known instantly, he screamed at me! He whipped my naked buttocks until I knew they were on fire. I'll never forget that brush whistling through the air, my actually crying as the pain increased.
He made me stand up and my prick was harder than ever. There was nothing I could do about it! Nothing!! He stared at my cock. He kept licking his lips. He was breathing hell fire! His eyes were bleary red. And when he stood up to slap me across the face I saw his own naked prick poking out his robe.
He fell down on his knees in front of me. He began to cry ... like a baby. I didn't know what to do. I was stunned. I just stood there. Stupidly. My prick was throbbing. Elsie turned on her knees to see. She looked up at me. At my prick. I could have died! The Rev. was now moaning and bending over like an Arab worshipping in the direction of Mecca. Then he fell forward on the floor.
He began to squirm as if he were in some kind of agony. His lips opened and the corners were wet with white saliva. Then he rolled over on his back. He had an enormous cock. It stood up straight and naked through the folds of his robe. He had come and his prick was continuing to pump out thick white sperm. He was sobbing and then we both saw his hand reach down to grip hold of his pounding cock. He was twisting and squirming like a cat just after it'd been fucked by a torn, rolling over and back, hunching up his long legs, then pitching them forward, his hand still holding his spouting cock.
Well, the sight of this was just too much and it took place in seconds. As I stood there my own cock began to throb. My balls started to tingle and my asshole itched as I looked down at him on the floor. And I shot off! Just like that! I tried to catch my come in my hand but missed and it shot all over him lying there at my feet, me with my pants and shorts still down at my ankles.
Elsie came over and stood next to me. Rev. Hadlie was now breathing heavily; his eyes were clamped closed, he was drooling all over his chin.
I'd never seen anything like this in my life. I wondered if he was dying! I did realize that he was drunk. This I'd seen, the farmhands. Elsie whispered what should we do, and I pulled up my pants and said we'd better get the hell out of there before he came to. There was no question that Rev. had passed out!
It was strange looking at him holding his prick while he was unconscious.
"Shouldn't we do something to help him, Richie?"
"No," I said. "Let's go."
Elsie and I both climbed on Karl. It still wasn't suppertime so we let Karl walk all the way back to the Grant farm, Elsie hugging me in the deep woods and holding onto my half-erect prick as I held the reins.
"You know, Richie," she said, her lips close to my ear, "I think he enjoyed all that."
"I know he did."
"Know something else, Richie?"
"What?"
"I left my panties back under his pillow."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mom Grant didn't want to believe us!
"But it's true, Mom," we almost said in unison. I had told the whole story, Elsie pitching in her observations from time to time. We were all sitting in the kitchen as usual. Farm people live in their kitchens.
"Let's go up to the attic room," Mom suggested. "Not that I expect any visitors, but we'll be more comfy up there, don't you think?"
We both nodded our heads in agreement. What struck me as I followed the two females up to the attic was how Mom Grant received the news of Rev. Hadlie's not so subtle handling of the situation. How she listened so attentively, shaking her head in wonderment when I related how he got so drunk so fast and how his cock had been out of his pants all the while Elsie was across his lap.
Elsie had interrupted: "That's true, Mom. I could feel it poking up against my belly after only a few slaps. Boy, they really stung, too! I knew he was getting harder and harder, and by the time he was slapping me crazy with the hairbrush, his cock was jabbing into my belly."
It was about here in the conversation that Mom suggested we go upstairs.
"I come up here sometimes to get away with my thoughts," Mom said as we entered a room I'd never been in before. It was very pleasant. There were two wide windows that overlooked the whole farm yard. The sun was setting and in the distance we could hear the hands rounding up the milk cows and driving them to the barn. The dogs were barking as usual, nipping the hooves of the stupid cows for which God had a particular fondness because he created them equal in intelligence to a department store dummy.
"This is my hideaway, kids." We saw her go to a chest and pull out a bottle. "This is May wine," she explained. She swigged from the bottle and then passed it to us just like we were adults. We liked that!
There were two old couches in the low-ceilinged room. Also a wooden table and, like in any back attic on a farm, a hundred different things Mom was going to throw out one day.
"All right," she said, when we were finally settled, Mom sitting across from Elsie and me. Elsie and I were both smoking our own cigarette, and we couldn't imagine a greater luxury. "I'm going to explain about this spanking business and also make a confession to Elsie here."
Elsie sat close to me. She threw her outer leg over mine. I put my arm around her. I let my hand fall down and then deliberately felt her breast. As Mom talked, she watched my fingers.
I fondled and cupped Elsie's breast. I tickled the nipple until it grew hard and very stiff. I pinched it and Elsie snuggled closer and soon her knee was brushing over my hardening penis. We were very comfortable indeed!
"One of the reasons the Reverend spanked you had nothing to do with what he saw you both doing out in the stable. Many people get their sexual kicks this way. I'm not at all surprised he had his thing out now that I think about it, but I do wonder how he got up the courage; what he would have done had you said something about it to him." Elsie was breathing heavier now and I could see that Mom was really interested in my hand and also how Elsie's knee was really exciting my prick. By now it was very hard and very, very hot.
"I guess he thought we were too young to notice," I offered.
"That's about it," said Elsie's mother. "That's about it," she repeated. "Like most of us older folk, he thinks all kids are dumb, but what gets me is that he really saw Elsie sucking you, right?"
"Oh, did he!"
"Well, now, here's the confession I said. Sometimes when I get all upset, and I can't go out into the corn crib, for one reason or another, I would look around to find something Elsie did that was bad."
Elsie and I looked at each other. We smiled. I stuck my hand up inside her blouse and touched her naked breast. I massaged it and tweaked her nipple and this made Elsie sigh and begin to rub her knees harder up and down my prick.
"So, when I'd find a little nonsense thing, I'd make Elsie bend over and whip her bare bottom. When I first did this, I noticed it made me horny. The second time I did it, I got really hot and had to finger my cunt and make it come. To tell the truth, I liked this, but afterwards I'd be mortally ashamed of myself."
"I think I understand, Mom," Elsie said. Now she was opening the buttons on her dress so I could reach my hand in and I did this and she started to kiss my neck and my ears, sticking her tongue into my ear.
"You kids are making me horny now," Mom sighed.
"But it's okay, isn't it?" I asked, drawing in smoke proudly, sometimes almost coughing to death, but still trying to be adult about it, debonaire's the word, I believe.
"Of course, it's okay," Mom laughed. "This is what it's all about," she added. She reached down to the wooden floor and took up the bottle. She drank, then reached over to pass it to me, but the distance was just a little too great. She grinned. She slipped down onto the floor and inched across until now she was sitting at our feet. I took the bottle from her. I drank. I held it while Elsie sipped from it.
"So, anyway, I'll never spank you again, dear, unless you're really bad, but now I know that won't happen. Why? Because I think we understand each other now. I really do," she smiled softly. She reached up and began to pet Elsie's knee and Elsie parted her legs slightly. By now I had Elsie's dress open all the way and her growing breasts were lovely, so ripe and her nipples so petal soft arid as pink as the loveliest of spring roses.
"I'll say something," I remember speaking up, "when he was whipping me, my cock got hotter and hotter. It really did. I think I even liked it, especially when he'd rest for a second. The stinging was terrific and then when my ass would cool off for a second and he'd make it burning hot all over again, I almost wanted to shoot off. Really."
Mom laughed. "You see, that's what I mean. That's why the Reverend was hot, spanking you on your bare ass, making Elsie crawl on the floor, and looking at your naked bottom, Richie. He could surely see your asshole, and your balls, and that excited him. I wonder what he thought when he saw your asshole, Elsie. I wonder if he could notice that something had been up in it?"
"I wondered too," Elsie grinned, shivering with delight and turning to kiss me and poke her tongue between my lips. "And I've got to admit," Elsie added, in between kisses on my cheek, "that I kind of liked being spanked at times, I think because Richie here was watching. That got me hot. And also-once when the Reverend caught me right between the cheeks I felt all hot and bothered in my cunt."
"Were you wet, honey?" Mom asked.
"Oh, Mom, was I? Boy, was I!!"
"Then you kids get the whole idea, right?"
Mom shifted closer to me. She moved Elsie's leg away and then we both looked down to see her opening my pants. My prick was hot and hard. Her fingers went in and I felt them. I trembled when they touched my bare prick. She curled her fingers around my cock and brought it out. She gasped. "Oh, Richie, it's beautiful!"
She moved her face closer. Then she changed her mind. She got up on her knees. She bent her head down and kissed my cock while she held it at the base. She rubbed the top of it all over her lips and her nose and even over her closed eyes.
"Did you like sucking Richie?" Mom asked, her voice low and throaty.
"Oh, Mom, how can you ask such a silly question?"
Mom didn't answer. She opened her mouth. She measured the diameter of my bursting cock with her oval mouth and then she lowered her face and closed her open lips over the hot tip of my erected penis.
I moved Elsie over a little bit. I stretched out so Mom could have more freedom. I lowered my face between Elsie's gloriously naked breasts and began to lick them all over, especially her nipples. Elsie was moaning now.
Mom was licking up and down my shaft and I began to pump up and down a little, desperately wanting her to take my hot cock back into her warm mouth.
But she just kept licking and playing with my balls. While I sucked on Elsie's breasts, Elsie stuck her hand down inside the waistband of her dress and I could see her fingers walking all over her pretty pussy. Her dress was still down. Oh, how I wished it was up around her waist. I loved what was happening. I pulled her dress up and saw her bare pussy. Her curly hair was so pretty. I watched as her fingers raced all over, then one finger dipping up inside her furry pussy, then slipping out. It was covered with slippery cream.
Mom was having the time of her life. She was really sucking me now, her mouth riding up and down on my hard tool. She was sucking it and licking it at the same time, her tongue traveling up and down so slowly, then her lips parting and her mouth opening as she'd go down on my prick and I'd see it vanish in her mouth, her lips closed tightly around it as her tongue wiggled and jabbed at it. What a marvelous sensation!
I put my hand on top of Elsie's. Then I slipped one of my fingers inside her pussy along with her fingers and we moved them together, the feeling of our fingers touching up inside her hot, sopping wet box, terribly exciting to both of us.
Mom suddenly sat back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Then she kneeled between Elsie's open thighs. She put her hands on Elsie's knees, spreading her thighs even wider apart. She stared at our fingers as they worked in and out of Elsie's steaming pussy.
She bent her face close. She kissed our fingers.
"Shove them up real deep," she said, "and then pull them out and let me suck on them."
Her mere words thrilled us immensely!
We did this for her several times and it was exciting fun to watch her suck Elsie's rich creamy juices from our fingers when we'd stick them into her mouth, feeling her tongue wash them clean before we'd return them up Elsie's exquisite cunt.
Mom sat back. Her eyes were very soft. She looked so young and beautiful. "Will you kids do Mom a very special favor?"
"We'd do anything in the world for you," we said. And we meant it!
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Elsie, for all the terrible spankings Mom has given you," Mom Grant said, rubbing her hands over both breasts, her fingers circling round and round her nipples, "now it's going to be your turn to give me one!"
"Oh, no! No, Mom," Elsie cried.
"I think I deserve it," Mom grinned. "And don't tell me how many times you wished you could."
Elsie laughed. "A thousand ... at least." She hugged me tight. She brought my wet fingers covered with her juices up to her lips and kissed them and then sucked them into her mouth. "I taste good, hey, don't I?"
"Of course you taste good, you goofy thing," Mom exclaimed and with this she buried her face in Elsie's magnificent, ripe pussy. Her tongue swept through the soft curly hair. Her tongue ignited new passions in Elsie and she began to squirm and writhe there on the old couch up in the cluttered attic.
"Oh, Mom, lick me ... ohooooooo, Mom. MOM! Suck ... yesssss, oh, dear ... Mom ... suck and lick me ... my God, Mom ... SUCK it!"
Elsie threw her naked legs up over Mom's shoulders. She jammed her wet cunt into Mom's glowing face, Mom's tongue making Elsie's pussy lips expand and throb.
"Ohooooooo, Mom ... MOTHER!"
This was the first time I'd heard Elsie use the word.
Mom burrowed in deep with her mouth, her tongue searching and swirling inside Elsie's bewitching pussy, licking up her appetizing juices, wiggling over her burning clitoris, sucking her silky inner thighs and then washing over her glistening pussy hair, Elsie squealing with intense pleasure as one ecstasy after another swept over her half-naked body.
I sucked Elsie's breasts into my mouth. I squeezed them. I pinched her hard nipples, Elsie bouncing up and down on the couch, her thighs holding Mom's head tightly as Mom slurped and sucked and drank Elsie's flowing cream.
Elsie was arching her back. She was thrusting her hungry pussy back into Mom's face whenever Mom would come up for air. Mom's fingernails were scratching up and down Elsie's naked legs, from her knees up to her pussy hair and then even up higher as I moved my face away from Elsie's saliva-coated breasts so Mom could grasp them and massage and manipulate them while she sucked hungrily.
"Ohoooooooo, Mommmmmmmmm, it's ... it's so hot, sooooooo, oh, my ... oh MY! Yes ... SUCK MY CUNT ... suck ... suck ... suck ... ohoooooooo, Aghhhhhhh!! Mom....
MOM ... MOM-MOM-MOM-MOM!!"
While Elsie was coming, bouncing all over the place, her legs thrashing, her eyes rolling in her head, I was jerking my prick wildly. With one hand I was squeezing my heavy balls. With the other I was jerking my prick, wobbling it from side to side, pressing it tight up against my belly, going insane listening to Elsie's deep moans and her wild, obscene, maddening squeals as Mom chewed on her pussy lips, bit on her clitoris and squeezed and pinched her nipples harder and harder, Elsie even farting once, that's how hot she was.
Elsie collapsed. Her head fell to one side. A soft smile was on her pretty lips. She let her mouth fall open. Mom sat back. Elsie looked at her.
"Thank you, Mom. That was heavenly."
Mom looked up at me. I was still playing with myself. I knew I could come in seconds, just looking at Mom's mouth still coated with Elsie's juices.
"Kiss me, Richie," Mom said, and she crawled toward me. I bent over and she took my face in her hands and brought it close to hers. She smiled and then she hugged me to her, leaning over me, her heavy breasts brushing over my erect, naked cock. She brushed her lips over mine. I could taste Elsie's pussy all over her face. Even Mom's breath smelled like Elsie's happy cunt.
Mom thrust her tongue into my mouth and I sucked on it like a prick. I licked under it. I ran my tongue around her teeth, in back of them, up on the roof of her mouth and inside her cheeks. The taste of Elsie was all over, and so was the wonderful smell of her hot cunt.
Then Mom pulled away. She sat back on the floor. She stared at my hard prick. She took the bottle. She raised it to her lips and drank. She passed it to me, her eyes still riveted to my throbbing penis.
I drank and when the hot wine went through me I swear I almost shot off. I never knew that May wine could make you do that. But I held back. I thought of horse manure and rotting cabbage and this way I didn't come.
Elsie was still whimpering. She was holding her sopping wet pussy with one hand. With the other she was rubbing her naked breasts the way Mom did hers. I loved to watch this.
"Richie, do you want to fuck me?" Mom asked. "Richie, do you? I'd like that right now. Up my ass, Richie? Would you like me to get down on my hands and knees and wiggle my bottom at you and you could kiss it for a little bit and then you could slide your wonderful hot cock up into my asshole, Richie?"
Mom's voice was hypnotizing me.
My prick would shiver with her every word!
My asshole was bleating like a lamb makes those funny noises. Like when a colt clears its throat. You have to hear these sounds in order to understand what I'm talking about.
"Would you, Richie? Would you? This time Elsie can watch real close ... real close while your thick cock goes in and you push it harder and it goes up deep and you pull it out and it's all wet and then you shove it back up and I go crazy ... would you like to fuck me up my ass, Richie? Tell, tell me, honey boy!"
Elsie was now fingering her hot clitoris. She was sitting back in the couch, her knees raised high, her cheek resting on one knee as she looked down at her fingers between her glistening wet pussy lips-as her fingers raced and danced all over her clitoris. Elsie was very happy. I could tell.
"Oh, Mom, yes, yes," I answered. My voice sounded like a boy soprano to my ears.
Mom turned to Elsie. "Honey, go down to my room and get my hairbrush ... will you do that for Mom, honey?"
Elsie was in a fog. Mom had to repeat her request. She put her fingers in her mouth. Then she snapped to! She reached down for the wine and drank a couple of mouthfuls, and then she stood up, at first staggering a little, then grinning at us. She took off her dress and now my darling fat, but thinning Elsie, was stark naked.
How pretty!
"Your hairbrush, Mom?"
"Yes, honey, my hairbrush. It's under my bed, you'll find it. The one with the thick handle."
Elsie walked across the attic, down to the end and she reminded me of a zombie, but a very naked, pretty one. Before she went down the crooked steps to the top floor, she waved at us. I can still see her. I will never forget that sight!
I think it was then that I first knew how beautiful Elsie was going to be when she lost her baby fat. Her breasts, even then, back in those days, were absolutely marvelous. I could see how narrow her waist was going to be after all that excess girlish blubber wore off. Even her thighs had a curious symmetry then, just like her luscious buttocks.
Mom crawled over to me. Once more she started to kiss my prick. She licked down to my balls. Then she made me put my feet up on the couch and she started to lick up my legs to my balls. She cupped them in her hand and sucked on them. Her tongue bewildered me as it flashed so fast, like a kitten's tongue, and it crawled tantalizingly slow all the way up my cock to the tip where it would lap and beat against it just before she would raise her face up, look at me lovingly, and then close her mouth over my pounding tool.
And how that woman could suck cock! Fantastic!!
I loved the noises her sweet mouth made. I loved the crazy sensations of her tongue when it would swirl around the tip of my boy-prick. I loved her lips.
But most of all, and I must admit this-I loved Mom's pretty brown asshole. In all my days since then, I've never seen one quite as pretty. Even Elsie's. Mom had fine blonde hairs growing all around her asshole. It was a deep brown, the hole itself, and the light hairs around it, circling it, made a wonderful contrast.
Just a bit inside her sweet asshole it was pink and, in a little deeper, a kind of light lavender, purple, but not dark brown or even black the way some assholes are colored.
It looked like a strange little mouth, and the way her asshole would open when I'd lick it, always reminded me of something being very hungry. It would open and close softly, gently and when it sensed my tongue wanted to go in, or my prick, it would open wide and start to move, the way a sunfish puckers.
And what I also loved was her hairy cunt right so close to her asshole. The difference in the color of her cunt hairs and the tiny, tender blonde ones surrounding her back hole was enough to make you think about it. How come? In fact, I always had the impression, even when I'd jerk off thinking about licking, or tonguing, or fucking Mom's asshole, that her pussy hole belonged to someone else.
Two beautiful, hot, sensual worlds apart, separated by just a tiny patch of pure naked white flesh.
Where was I? Oh, yes.
When Elsie finally reappeared, she was laughing.
She was also quite tipsy on the May wine. "Hey, Mom," she grinned, approaching us, spotting Mom down on my cock instantly, "hey, I know what you do with this hairbrush, Mom."
Mom didn't take her mouth off my cock. But she raised her eyes.
"You stick the handle up inside you, right?" Mom nodded, my cock still in her mouth. "And you also put it up your asshole, don't you, Mom?"
Mom nodded again.
I thought if she kept doing this, the way she was doing it, so funny like, nodding, that I'd come off inside her hot mouth. Nodding is a funny gesture when you're sucking a cock without really sucking on it.
"I stuck the hairbrush up my asshole to see how it felt, and WOW, it's terrific, Mom."
Mom pulled her mouth off my wet, slimy prick. She sat back on her haunches. "Elsie," she sighed, "young girls like you shouldn't talk to your mother that way!"
We all howled with laughter!
We shared the May wine bottle once again, then Mom and me and Elsie all hugged each other. It makes a pretty picture to remember.
* * *
I could write down what all happened that special Sunday evening up in the Grant's attic, but I'll save it for later on. When you sit around and talk about love and friendship, maybe the United Nations, or the Children's Aid Society, the Love of God, and Jesus Saves, and stuff like that ... and maybe you hear the euphoric strains of "True Love" in the background, just remember the three of us out there on that farm in the lonely countryside, all of us bare-ass and Mom down on her hands and knees, Elsie spanking her bottom with the hairbrush, me kneeling in back of Mom's luscious naked buttocks, my prick zig-zagging in and out, Elsie watching Mom contorted with passion and ecstasy, and Mom whimpering ... whimpering and grunting, "FUCK IS LOVE, OH, YES, LOVE IS FUCK. ASS IS LOVE! FUCK LOVE!!"
FUCK LOVE!
'Love Thee Thy Fuck!' Oh, God!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The outcome of the Reverend Hadlie affair should interest you. He cancelled his normal Tuesday supper visit with Mom and Elsie, pleading illness. He twice came to the foster farm with every intention of seeing me, but each time he came the wind blew me advance warning and I galloped Karl over the horizon like a rocket.
This was on Mom's advice. She had a plan. And I couldn't really hate her for it, even though it smelled to high heaven of blackmail.
Everyone in the parish knew how dearly the Rev. valued his post as minister. In many ways it was quite lucrative for him down there in Oaks. His salary was the best in the county; his food was free, all he could eat, and the apartment over the church house kitchen was as citified and as well furnished as any in New York City. He earned extra money from birth blessings and burial services. He owned a fifty acre farm, not large considering the sizes of our places, but ample. One of the congregation tended it and Gus, the sexton, lived on it and also did some work. But not much.
Kneut, whom I promised to tell you about-remember?-he drove Mom and Elsie down to that Saturday night organ rehearsal where the only organ played on was my burning penis when it was sunk up Elsie's delicious tight asshole-Well, Mr. Kneut was often a visitor on the Reverend's farm and extra-friendly with Gus. The whispered story went around, but only among us kids, that Gus and Kneut kissed a lot and played with each other's cocks. Johnny Waesser swore on his mother's grave that he saw them a couple of times stark naked out in the bramble, each sucking the other's cock at the same time while each had two fingers up the other guy's asshole, grunting and rolling around like two hogs, Gus squealing in his high-pitched voice and Kneut swearing in German.
Well, that was what I wanted to say about Kneut.
Now, Rev. Hadlie had a hell of a lot to lose if anyone even had the vaguest idea of what happened up in his apartment between him, Elsie and me.
As Mom figured it, we had him by the balls, so to speak, and he could have a thousand conversations with God and it wouldn't help him out one bit-if the congregation were to find out about his enormous prick spouting all over his clerical robe and him passing out drunk on the rug, him lusting after my prick as I stood there half naked, my pants down around my ankles, my red ass stinging like crazy from the cruel hairbrush.
It so happened that Mom had been complaining about the old organ for years now. How many times had she been almost down on her knees before the Vestrymen and the Elders and the Rev. himself, pleading and begging for a new one? Too numerous to mention.
"So, you see, Richie," she was talking to me, my naked prick in her hand, Elsie sitting on the other side of Mom, her hands caressing Mom's heavy breasts which were exposed through her nightgown, "when Mrs. Dunner goes up to his apartment to clean it, as she does every Wednesday, that's tomorrow, she's sure to find Elsie's panties under that pillow where Elsie hid them, right?"
I loved having my prick played with the way she was doing it. "Right," I answered. Her fingers would crawl up and then filter down like leaves falling from trees in autumn. Then she would use her sharp fingernails and play a tune on my hot cock, like drumming her fingers on a table, then gripping my cock real hard and moving it back and forth wildly like you might do to a gear shift if you were trying to snap it off at the bottom.
I loved this. Then she would cup my balls. She would bend over me, even while she was talking about something, and dribble saliva down on my cock, trying to bomb it right on the head and often making a direct hit.
She would work her greasy, well, slimy-like saliva into my prick like a lotion. Then she would finger it again and the sensations were fantastic!
She would sometimes strip my cock like you do to a cow's teat after you've milked her dry. I liked this to, because right after she'd do this, she'd squeeze the hell out of my balls and I'd want to shoot off, but she'd suddenly slap my prick hard with her open hand, slap it again and again, from side to side and I'd forget all about coming all over her fingers, which had happened several times, Elsie always being wildly anxious to lick my ooze from her mother's fingers.
One time when Mom and I were alone (this happened much later in this story than I'm going to tell in this part) and she was slowly jerking me off, and I hadn't come in several days because of working in the fields all the time, Mom's fingers began to gather speed and the heat of her hand and the rata-ta-tat of her drumming fingernails soon made me blast off. Before she could bend over to catch my ooze in her open mouth, which was how she preferred it sometimes, I had come all over her naked breasts and her belly button, plus all over her fingers as my prick kept pumping a hell of a lot of white sticky ooze as she continued to jerk me crazily.
It was just about here that Elsie came into the corn crib up in the barn. She didn't surprise us really, because we heard her humming as she walked down the old rickety board path leading to the barn.
My prick was still leaking when Elsie climbed up the ladder and smiled at us. I didn't know I could store up so much hot thick come in my balls. It was wild!
Elsie was staring, fascinated by my prick. My cock-eye was wide open and a steady, slow ooze was leaking from it. She quickly sat down on the hay and grasped my balls and began to squeeze them, not too hard, but hard enough, and Holy Christ, I felt another orgasm approaching, almost right on top of the first fantastic one. I couldn't believe it!
I began to moan and then scream when my halferect cock leaped and bang, out shot another load, not as much as the first, but thicker, and this time it splattered right on Elsie's face. It came as a terrific surprise to all three of us.
Mom was ecstatic! Her fingers were coated with thick hot sperm. A great gob of ooze was dripping from Elsie's cheek and chin, and Mom's breasts, the deep valley between them and one of her nipples was splotched with my milky white juice.
Mom drew me close to her. Elsie was now down between my naked legs, beginning to lick my cream-coated prick while she continued to squeeze my balls. Mom began to wash my face with my own come, rubbing it all over my cheeks, over my closed eyes, even over and into my ears; that's how much juice there was. Incredible!
She smeared her hands all over her naked breasts, rubbing my sticky come into her warm flesh as if it was a night cream. Then she pressed my face between her magnificent breasts.
"Lick them, Richie. Lick up your own come. Richie, suck it up from my nipple."
And I did, all the time so conscious of Elsie down on my leaking penis, her mouth gobbling it up. When I felt her sneak her finger up into my asshole, I moaned and this so excited me at the moment I was chewing on Mom's nipple and squeezing the hell out of her other breast. I liked the musky smell and the strange lemon-like taste of my milky come. I licked Mom's belly button and got a glob of it on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed it. Mom drew my face up to hers and began to kiss my mouth, poking her tongue in deep, licking my tongue with hers, then chewing on my lips.
She licked all over my face, her tongue digging into my ears, her lips pursed as she sucked my nose and poked her tongue up into my nostrils in search of more of my sticky sperm.
Elsie's mouth was swallowing my balls. Her fingers were now reaming deep up my asshole and I was writhing on the hay and finally Mom lay back. She threw her thighs apart and forced my head into her hairy crotch.
"Richie ... Richieeeeeeeeeeeee, ohooooooooo, my clitoris, Richieeeeeeeeee, yessssssss, SUCK ON IT, honey ... honnnnnnnney, suck, BITE IT! Suck ... SUCK MY CUNT, Ahjaaaaaaaaaa, I'm ... I'mmmmmmmm, yessssssss, SUCK, SUCK! SUCK!!"
And Mom came all over my lips and tongue. What in the hell started me on that digression?
Oh, yes! That was the first time I ever tasted my own come! Yes, that was why.
Getting back to Rev. Hadlie and the organ problem: this is what Mom suggested-
"Richie, what we'll do is let the Rev. catch you and Elsie again. We'll plan it. Now ... when Mrs. Dunner finds the panties, she'll be shocked. Elsie, you can hang around the kitchen, and when Mrs. Dunner comes down, and she's sure to be red in the face and outraged, you will ask her what's the matter and she'll blush and carry on, but she won't tell you. She's that protective of the Rev...." then you go knock on the Reverend's door and look like a little sheep and tell him point blank that you left your panties up in his place under the couch pillow." Mom gave my hard cock a couple of wet kisses, smiling to herself. Elsie was sucking contentedly on one of Mom's stiff brown nipples. "What I think the Rev. will do is rush upstairs and find the panties gone. He will know that Mrs. Dunner found them."
"This is just like a mystery story," Elsie observed, teasing Mom's wet nipple with the tip of her tongue.
"Okay," Mom continued, ignoring Elsie. She was squeezing the tip of my prick with her thumb and two fingers, "he will then rush to find Mrs. Dunner. He'll ask her outright if she found your panties, but she won't know that they are yours, Elsie. The Rev. will make some excuse of having found them, something like that, and Mrs. Dunner's to help him search out for the loose girl who insulted Jesus by running around without her bloomers." Elsie and I laughed.
"Now then," Mom went on, diddling with my balls, my cock steaming hot, the tip leaking a thin, white transparent fluid Mom loved to taste, "Richie, you'll come onto the scene. You've got to time this just right," Mom said, warming up to the intrigue, "and you'll let him see you heading back into the stables, not the church stables, but the cavalry stables."
UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY! I can hear the trumpets, the steeds snorting, fire in their nostrils, the cavalrymen saddling up to go fight the psychotic Indians. Swords clanging, the exciting tattoo of the horses flying hooves as they charge across the fields, the Indians whooping and banners flying in the winds....
"What I want you to do to Elsie, Richie, is get her down on her hands and knees. Her skirt up, her panties off, her knees spread wide apart, understand?"
Elsie and I grinned at each other.
"Richie," Mom Grant continued, "you have your pants down to your knees, your bottom naked. You've got a real hard prick, okay?"
Mom's eyes were closed. She was jerking my prick and I was shivering like a leaf, ready to come any second. "And ... Richie, Richie ... you put your cock up into Elsie's asshole, see ... Richie ... you put it up her ass ... and ... you fuck ... you fuck your prick into her asshole ... and the Rev. will catch you!"
Elsie was down on her knees. I could feel her hot breath on my prick as Mom jerked and stroked it. Her lips were close to the tip of my pounding tool. "Richie, when he says something, about how bad you are being with Elsie, just look up at him and keep fucking her asshole."
"He won't hit us, or anything?" I remember asking, my cock so hot now that....
"No, he won't. I guarantee that. He won't, Richie. You just look at him and say that I, Mom Grant, wants to have a few words with him, okay?"
With this, Mom got down on her knees. Her face was close to Elsie's. My prick was between their faces. Mom squeezed my balls and then stuck her finger up into my asshole and I exploded, my cock spurting, leaping, quivering. Elsie and Mom took turns catching my hot juice in their mouths, sharing my bursting prick between their sucking mouths. . Oh, what splendor!!
Two females sucking my prick while it's shooting, swallowing my sperm greedily, two females kissing and four hot lips all over my fuming hot cock as it shot off like a machine gun and then just oozed, Elsie and Mom fighting each other to suck me dry....
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It all happened just the way Mom said it would! But the Rev. didn't come to catch us as soon as Mom thought he would. By the time he got there, back in the cavalry stables, I had licked Elsie's lovely naked bottom all over. It was shining in the sunlight, so stark white and so naked, it was almost obscene! Elsie loved me to lick her ass, running my slippery tongue all over her globes, into her crack and then down the inside of her gorgeous white thighs, sometimes dabbing my tongue into the thick hairs guarding the tender lips of her sweet pussy, then crawling up slowly, teasing and tantalizing her until she would begin rotating her hips, anxiously awaiting the touch of the tip of my eager tongue on her asshole as I'd spread her cheeks wide open to expose it, then brushing it over her winking asshole and then dipping it in and then forcing my tongue in deeper while Elsie would moan with passion.
"Oh, Richie, honey, put it in ... put your cock ... in where I love it, honey, move it in, please. Please ... please, Richie, stick me. Poke me. POKE ME WITH YOUR COCK!" she was exclaiming as I just took my time, waiting to hear the Rev. coming back to the stables.
"Richie, honey! HONEY! Fuck my ass fuck ... FUCK my ASS!"
I pointed my hard cock and with one simple lunge, penetrated a full four inches up Elsie's ass. She screamed and a couple hundred nesting birds shot up screeching into the air, flying around in dizzy circles as I sank down on her, forcing my cock deep up her bowels, her moans growing louder and louder....
When I heard the Rev. coming up in back of us, I plunged and began fucking Elsie's asshole like never before. I was holding her tight around the waist, drawing her back on my pounding prick. Elsie's cries were all over the place, "Ohooooo, Richie ... RICHIE! RICHIE ... FUCK ... FUCK!!"
Instead of saying anything, I saw the Rev. circling around us. I saw his cock hardening inside his pants. He took off his glasses. He put them into his shirt pocket, one of those black shirts with the white collar and that little pocket. He kept moving around us. He said nothing.
I kept fucking like he wasn't there.
Elsie saw him but she kept her head down between her elbows, her lovely plump white naked ass waving in the air as I'd sink my cock in up to the hilt, then pull it out fast, then slowly penetrate again until Elsie was sobbing with passion and ecstasy.
Still the Rev. said nothing. I saw his hand go to his crotch. He was now standing close to us. When he put his hand on my backside, I didn't flinch. I kept up the hard, most enjoyable work, not giving a shit if God and all his Angels were watching along with Rev. H. Hadlie, QXR and TIB.
The next thing I knew the Rev. was kneeling. I just hoped he wasn't going to say any prayers. But you could never tell about him.
But he didn't pray. Instead, I felt his hand caressing my naked bottom, and then I sensed his fingers running between the crack of my naked ass. His finger touched my asshole and I liked the sensation. I fucked and fucked my cock up Elsie's asshole, stabbing it in cruelly and then gently, using different rhythms I was just learning.
I judged by Elsie's grunts, her cries, just how much she was enjoying the ass-fuck, by her soft words, by how she'd gyrate and rotate her hips and buck back and then push back with rapid jerks as my prick was sunk up her ass as deep in as it would go.
When the Rev. began to poke with his finger on my asshole for real, I looked up at him. My long hair was dangling over my face. With one hand I brushed it back and I saw him smiling. When he touched my swinging balls, I shot off up Elsie's asshole!
I fell down on top of Elsie and just lay there on her back, breathing like a bull, my cock still up her asshole and still pumping, pumping....
Elsie's arms were stretched out in front of her there on the stable floor. She was still quivering and whimpering, words and sounds that didn't make any sense.
Rev. Hadlie sat back on the grassy spot in the stable. He put his glasses back on his face. He just stared at us. He was silent for the longest time. Then he spoke:
"Children, I...." and he began to weep.
"Elsie's Mom would like to have a few words with you, Rev. Hadlie," I mumbled, giving him the message I'd memorized.
He stood up. I still lay, with my pants down, on top of Elsie who was lifeless under my body, my ass now being warmed by the sun that filtered through the rotting roof of the old THIRD ARMY CAVALRY OF THE UNITED STATE'S ARMY.
He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. "Children, I know what Mom Grant has to say."
He blew his nose loud.
I raised up and slowly let my prick slide out of Elsie's asshole. To my astonishment, it was still semi-erect.
The Rev. cleared his throat.
"Children, would you both like to come up to my place and we could have a glass of wine or perhaps a soda pop and have a little talk?"
Elsie rolled over on her back; her hairy pussy was beautiful! She raised her knees up and hugged them. The Reverend's eyes were glued to her luscious, succulent cunt.
Elsie looked at me. I looked at her.
"We will be up in a minute, Rev. Hadlie," I said. And when he walked off, without looking back, I bent my head down and kissed Elsie's sweet smelling cunt. "Well," I said to her, "Elsie, it looks like Mom's got herself a new organ!"
So much for that!
Altogether, I was a foster child for three and a half years on the Hauser farm outside of Oaks. When I was almost fifteen, my father suddenly appeared on the scene. He was now financially able to take me back. And I can assure you it was a tearful goodbye to Elsie and Mom, to the church, to the farm chores even, and to Karl, my horse, especially.
City life disagreed with me from the start. But after the first year and the brand new city high school, I began to acclimate. I made some friends, kissed a few girls, but found them all so stuffy and inhibited that I was desperately unhappy.
My father's fortunes (as they say) improved and when I was sixteen I went to a Military Academy and almost without knowing it, began to study music. I learned to fiddle the violin. became a rather excellent flautist, and it was only natural that I began to study the organ.
I never visited back in Oaks because we lived in a distant city. I believe that not a day passed for the next two years that I didn't think about Elsie, about Elsie's bottom, about Mom Grant and her delicious asshole, and about sucking both their cunts and having them lick me off.
I would jerk off my prick at least two times a day, every day, wherever I was, reliving, re-experiencing the wonderful days back in Oaks.
On my seventeenth birthday I gave a recital on the brand new organ in St. B-'s Cathedral, and to my utter amazement (I was really stupefied!), I won a scholarship prize for which over a thousand young people competed.
At nineteen I played in Brussels. I began to compose music for the mighty instrument. Not all of it was good, but since you don't clap your hands in church, I never really knew. I always had the sneaking suspicion that God loved it, and I suppose that was enough for me. I was also aware from long back that God was deaf!
If he'd had any ears he would have parachuted down from heaven and dived right into Elsie's cunt.
I was just twenty when I got my first real job. This was a magnificent church in New York City ... of all places for a country boy to end up!
Pretty soon I was seeing my name in the newspapers. People were flocking to the cathedral from all over the world to listen to a mere boy, hayseed at that, pound on the booming organ and make it sound like birds whispering about how much they envied or admired one another's brilliant colors.
You name the classic composer, and believe me, I had the guy down pat! But always, as I would sit in total majesty, my hair too long (never had the time to find a barber), I would think of Mom, and me down on my knees, pumping that wheesy bellows back at Green Church.
Then one day I gave a three-hour-long concert, a recital of Brahms, Bach and some other guys you've probably never heard of. (It doesn't matter!)
There were lots of people around to congratulate me, and one of these, a tall man with glasses on the end of his nose, managed his way through the crowd.
The man grasped my hand.
"Richie, you play like an angel of God!"
It was the Rt. Rev. H. Hadlie, DFK and UTY.
Holy Christ!
At this point of my early career, I had a lovely apartment on Madison Avenue in the high Seventies in New York City. For old times sake, I invited the Rev. Hadlie to meet me there later that evening.
I phoned up an airplane charter service and hardly two hours later was flying in the direction of Oaks. We put down the Beechcraft at the county airport. Here I hired a car and drove it to the Grant farm.
All I can say is that it looked much smaller than I remembered it. I parked the car down at the end of the lane. I got out and walked across the field toward the house. Nothing had changed.
The weather vane on top of the old barn swung to and fro easily in the light summer air. Everything was so still. The odors of the farm were like a magic parfume. Even the horseshit.
I walked up to the back of the farmhouse and knocked on the old screen door....
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After knocking several more times with no answer, I opened the door, as I'd done a million times in the past, and entered into the old familiar kitchen.
Memories flooded over me. They made me weak. I remember the need to gulp and swallow down a need to cry a couple of tears. Oh, nostalgia!
I walked quietly through the ground floor of the farmhouse. I couldn't hear a sound. I climbed up the carpeted stairs to the second floor. I went to the front of the house where Elsie's room had been in the old days.
Lying on the bed, stark naked, was truly one of the most lovely female bodies I'd ever seen. She had long dark hair down to her narrow waist. Her breasts, rising and falling evenly in sleep, were superb! Her long legs were open. Her dark brown pussy hair was glistening in the soft light in the room. The girl had beautiful feet and dainty toes.
Next to her, also sleeping deeply was a large, too fat black cat. I studied the scene. I couldn't see the girl's face, but my heart was pumping wildly-as was my prick, I must confess. She had her arm across her eyes, but I soon recognized the mouth.
Elsie!
I couldn't believe that here was my fat old Elsie.
She must have been dreaming because she suddenly moved her arm away, and then she turned over on her belly, facing the wall.
Oh, that bottom! In a million years I could never forget those handsome, curved, white buttocks. Her flesh was tinted and strikingly white at the same time. I couldn't see her asshole, until finally she hunched up her knees and I saw it! Oh, how many ... how many times had I licked that luscious pale brown hole? How many, how many times had I pushed my fingers up into it; how many hundreds of strokes had my cock made inside that precious orifice?
I didn't have the heart to disturb her. I crept silently through the rest of the house. I could hardly believe it when I saw Mom Grant's old bathrobe hanging on the back of the door in her room. It was as neat as a German pin.
I went downstairs. In the refrigerator (a new one) I found a bottle of wine. I opened it. I was swept back two thousand years when I tasted the May wine.
I went out to the barn. Everything was just like I remembered it, only seeming smaller, as I've said. I climbed up into the corn crib. The cob Mom had used that day still hung from the spike in the wall. I sniffed it under my nose. It still smelled like Mom!
Back in the house I took two water glasses and once again climbed the stairs. I walked quietly back to Elsie's room. I entered it. Her position hadn't changed. I crossed and sat on the far side of her bed.
I took out my prick. I stroked and fondled it as I stared at her luscious naked body. My cock hardened instantly! I put the bottle down on the floor after swigging from it. I lay down on the bed, but not too close to Elsie's sleeping-beauty body.
I must have lain like this for fifteen minutes when she stirred. She didn't see me. She stretched her exquisite nakedness, wiggling her pretty toes.
Then she rubbed her finger over her eyes. She sat up and turned, still not seeing me. This motion disturbed the cat and it woke up and stretched the way cats do.
The delightful cleavage of Elsie's buttocks, the delicious curves of her back and the sloping curves of the sides of her breasts were an artist's dream. She stretched her arms up over her head and let loose a long, long sigh.
She stood up.
I made our secret whistle and Elsie froze! But she didn't turn around. She just froze!
She whistled back, our secret, and then she flew to the open window and bending over, looked down. Her naked ass never looked more appetizing!
I whistled again.
"Richie, oh, RICHIE! It must be you!"
"Elsie," I whispered.
She flung her body around and seeing me, leaped like a young doe and landed plop right on top of me.
"Oh, God, my Richie ... my Richie ... my Richie ... my Richie ... my God, it's you. IT'S YOU. Oh, No ... NO! NO!"
We started to wrestle like in the old days. She was now screaming my name at the top of her lungs! Screaming, squealing ... then giggling ... and finally crying a flood of nickle-sized tears.
She almost squeezed me to death!
Well, it took her an hour to believe it.
And, during that fantastic hour, she and I fucked; and when I say f-u-c-k-e-d, I mean every letter of that wonderful word. And, more, after this hour had passed (like a zephyr wind) we were both so totally exhausted we could hardly breathe.
Then we drank the bottle of wine and with this new energy, we ran, screaming like those psychotic Indians with the UNITED STATES THIRD CAVALRY in hot pursuit, stark naked, all over the farmyard, up in the barn. We fucked by the pump. We fucked in the milk house; we fucked in the grape arbor; we fucked on top of the yellow roses, thorns and all. Her asshole was bleeding and her thighs were covered with bright red blood. Her magnificent breasts were ripped by the thorns. My balls were covered with her blood. So was my face.
We were absolutely hysterical!
And, after two more bottles of wine, raving drunk!
When I asked her to marry me, she fainted!
Well, you've probably guessed who performed our ceremony, and where it was performed, and who played the fabulous organ "Here Comes The Bride!"
We now live in Paris from where I'm writing this memoir. We have no children, just each other. Mom is with us.
The three of us speak in French most of the time, except when we're making love, because FUCK ME UP MY ASSHOLE just doesn't sound the same in French.
In case you're interested, Elsie is somewhat of an accomplished organist herself these days. We plan to grow old together-which will probably happen.
And, confidentially (and I hope this won't distress you), I've yet to fuck a female's cunt, that is, when the horny asshole welcomes and squeezes.
