A NEW FIRST! TWO SIZZLING NOVELS! FOR THE PRICE OF ONE
Inside the covers of this volume are two bold, new novels with all the hot action that any serious reader of erotica could want. They won't leave the reader panting for more, because these stories delivery it all in graphic detail:
In THE PRINCIPAL'S DAUGHTER, young Gloria Blackstone, determined to lose her virginity, encounters a number of hot young high-school studs, but not one of them fully satisfies her. She doesn't really go all the way until, at last, she finds the man of her dreams - her own father, the high-school principal!
In STEWARDESS ORGY, Lisa Gallatin, tired of layover lays, resigns from Happy Go Lucky Airlines to pursue a career as a salesperson for a Greenwich Village sex shop. When she runs into one of her old stewardess pals, they plan a party together, featuring some of Lisa's merchandise. The girls find they are particularly fond of little red rubber balls and edible panties.
PART ONE
Gloria Blackstone never thought of it as her virginity. Rather, it was simply something she had borrowed for a year or two from God. If it was lost, she knew that it would float through all the spheres of Paradise until it found its way again to Him, its rightful owner. Gloria Blackstone was burdened with God's virginity and she wanted Him to have it back.
Thus, when she enrolled at the Better Arts and Science High in Lockwood Gorge, New Jersey, in her fourteenth year, she knew her project for the coming term would be to choose the perfect boy with whom to send to God His wandering virginity.
To Gloria's surprise, discovering a boy who met her rigid standards was easy. At first she thought that just a boy, a single boy, worthy of her mission, would not exist, but in very little time she found that lots of boys like that attended Better Arts and Science High.
She was forced into an interesting predicament. She wanted one boy, a special boy, one who towered over all the rest. However, at least a dozen boys were just as good as she could hope, a dozen Better Arts and Science boys were fit to aid her in the loss of God's virginity, or rather, the restoration to Him of same.
Knowing so many very likely boys seemed to cheapen each of them, considerably. One special boy, or maybe even two, would have seemed to Gloria a reasonable percentage from among the boys at BASHS. However, to find an even dozen of them lowered in her estimation the worth of every single one of them.
She was in a fix. She knew twelve boys to whom she could present herself, each one of them, taken separately, a perfect candidate for sexual enlightenment. However when she considered each of the twelve boys in light of the fact that there were eleven others just like him, every single boy seemed worth far less.
Gloria had the boy, but she had too many of him, so she did not really have a boy at all. Yet she understood that one must have a boy if one is interested in losing one's, or God's, virginity. If she had been able to do it all alone, matters would have been ameliorated. But she was not able to do it all by herself.
And so there she was, aware that the standards she developed had been raised by the presence of twelve boys who met them. However, the chances that a boy would come along who met her newly chosen qualifications were very slim.
Moreover, Gloria was seriously horny and she did not think that she could wait too long. She knew she owed to God at least the compliment of sending him His virginity on the strength of not just any ordinary penis, but she also knew that she could not wait much longer.
She felt God calling her. She felt an urge within her, more acutely, every day, the voice of God, demanding that she relinquish what was rightly His.
"You've had it long enough," He said to her, at night, as she lay dreaming, "I think it's time, ray dear, you gave it back, as you are bidden."
She would answer, in her sleep, "Oh, I will, I will, I will!" and yet she never did. Each day passed without her loss of this virginity,
Gloria began to suspect that she was shy, that she had set her standards higher than a boy could meet so that she would not have to suffer through the intimacy of the act by which one sent away virginity. She began to think that maybe she was fooling herself.
So, she made a pact. "I, Gloria Blackstone, will take each and every one of all those boys who appeal to me in a different manner. I will suck some and nibble some and caress others of them, until I find one among them who seems to have the qualities I desire." It was a simple pact and one she knew that she could carry out.
Frankly and Gloria did not pretend she did not see the truth, she was just a very foxy chick. She knew how much the boys at BASHS wanted her.
She heard them talking of her, day and night. "Here come all three of Gloria," they said, "let's make a pass at them."
"Hah hah," another laughed, "I'll take the left and you the right and he'll take what's left over."
She walked along the halls throughout the school and heard such comments every day. "It's the Himalayas, coming up, on your left, pal, on your left!" they said.
"Boy, I'd like to scale those heights. Because they're there."
"You take the high road, I'll take the low road and I bet I'll be creaming afore you."
"You gotta have a road map just to find the proper route through cliffs like those!"
"Down in the valley, where my cock goes, Gloria Blackstone smells like a rose!"
They said those things and yelled those things and sang those things and of course she heard them. She knew they were referring to her breasts and to her cunt.
She knew she was attractive, she knew she was the sort of girl they wanted. Having any boy at all would be very easy for her. But she did not want just any boy.
She wanted only that particular boy, the special one and she had no intention of letting any one of them inside of her until she found the boy she liked.
However, there had to be a way to judge. There had to be a way for her to know which of the boys was meant for her. She had to think of some kind of way to find out what the boys were made of, so that she could get one who was special.
She came to a conclusion. She would try them all, in many ways, until she met the boy who knew just what to do. She then would Set him put his cock inside of her, she understood, was how the thing was done, how virginity was lost.
One day she made a small announcement, to a group of boys. She said, "I know that each of you would like to fuck me. I think it's normal that you'd want to, but of course I can't comply with all your wishes. I want just one of you to fuck me, but I can't decide which one. So I plan to make it with every single one of you who wants to make it with me, short of stuffing what you've got between your legs between my legs. That is, I'll suck and lick and stroke you, but I won't fuck you. The boy who makes me feel the best, is the boy I then will take between my legs."
It was a gutsy thing to do, but Gloria was a gutsy girl. After all, she was the daughter of the principal of Better Arts and Science High and she had what some would term a certain moral courage, though others might consider it something else again.
Word got around quite rapidly of what Gloria intended and within no time at all she was swamped with pleas from boys, begging her to suck their cocks, or lick their assholes.
Yet Gloria would not take any boy, she had the twelve in mind and though the twelve did not realize they had already been chosen, she knew she would take only one of them.
She waited for an offer that intrigued her and then she took it. When she met a boy who was one of the twelve she liked and she found his offer charming, then she took him. The very first boy she took was Ax the football captain.
"Hi, dere, Glo," he said, one day, jogging up from football practice. "Howz your jugs today, baby? Youse is lookin really good."
"Oh, Ax," she giggled, "shouldn't you be going out for a pass, or something?" She moved her eyes up and down his body, liking what she saw.
"Baby," Ax responded, "I don't go out for passes, I make em. Har har har." When he laughed he opened up his mouth quite wide and showed all 36 of his teeth.
"Oh, Ax," Gloria cooed, "you really have a divine sense of humor. You know that? You really are the end, Ax, just the end, totally."
"Say, Glo," he said, getting right to the point, "youse know I'm out dere every Saturday, playin for the team, I needs a little inspiration so's I can win so many games."
Gloria blushed. In fact, the BASHS never won a football game, never had and likely, never would. They had not had a winning team since 1945, the year the high school beat the only other school that then existed in the area, a geriatric ward for octogenarians.
"Honestly, Ax," she said, "sometimes I think you let your imagination run away with you."
"It ain't my magination what gets hot and bothered," Ax responded, "it's my dick." He patted his crotch. "Little Ax, he gets so hard, sometimes, it's distractin'."
"Oh, Ax," she said, "I couldn't stand there at the sidelines waiting to give you a blow job every time you call a time out, all throughout the game."
Ax rubbed his hand up and down over his crotch and a noticeable bulge, even larger than the usually omnipresent one, began to form.
"Baby, Glo, it don't make no difference to me one way or th'other when you blow me, just so long as you do it really soon."
Gloria considered this the most modest, giving offer Ax could make and she consented to take him off behind the bushes then and there and suck his cock.
"Hey, Glo," Ax said, "that's real big of you."
"No," she laughed, "it's real big of you."
Ax turned pale, looking quite confused. Most jokes went right past him.
Gloria took his hand and led him off across the parking lot towards the hedgerow that lined it, behind which, she knew, she would have some privacy.
"Get your pants off, Ax," she said, as they stepped behind the hedgerow. "Hurry, please, I don't want either of us to get caught."
Ax undid his football trousers and slid off his cup and his jockstrap and by the time he had gotten everything undone, Gloria was surprised to find that, inside all that material, his cock was not nearly as big as she had expected.
"Well," she said, "it's an optical illusion."
"Naw," he said, "it's my dick. Ain't you never seen a dick? His name is little Ax."
Gloria thought that the diminutive was the proper context in which to place it. Little Ax. It sure was not nearly as big and thick as she had expected.
However, it started getting bigger. She had not even touched it and it started getting longer and thicker, hard and hot and pounding with warm blood flowing through the veins that laced it. Gloria took in a sharp, deep breath.
"There you go, Glo," he said, "just for you, from me, with love." He snickered and stood proudly displaying his tool. "Suck it, baby."
Gloria was a little frightened. Ax's cock had gotten rather large in very little time. It went from small to large and it got at least five times bigger when it filled with all the blood that pulsated into it. Soft, it had looked shriveled, tiny, useless. Now it looked mean and angry and capable of anything.
Gloria envied him and she feared him. She didn't have anything that got big like that. She understood what it was that made boys act the way they acted.
"Hey, Glo," Ax announced, "I ain't got time to wait. Little Ax don't got much uh what you'd call uh 'tention span. So get your lips around 'im, huh?"
Gloria did not care for Ax's tone, but she had in fact assured him that she would give him a blow job and she was not one to renege on her promises.
She touched the tip of his cock and felt the wetness there. Liquid bubbled out of the slit which ran across the tip of his cock, the purple tip of it.
An ooze of hot, slick juices bubbled out the slit across the tip of Ax's cock. Gloria slid a finger from the slit right down the base of Ax's shaft.
A thin smear of liquid spread down the underside of his shaft. Ax giggled and sighed, his stomach muscles tightening. He said, "Go, Glo, go."
Gloria thought that this perhaps was as close as Ax had ever come to poetry and in a way she was deeply moved. To reward him, she slid her lips down over the tip of his cock.
Ax shivered and yelped. "I ain't never had it like this, Glo, baby. I ain't never had but just my fist around Little Ax before."
His cock tasted hot and salty. Gloria slid the tip of her tongue into the slit and tasted him. He tasted sour and salty and warm.
She darted her tongue in and out of the slit and then around the rim of the glands, moving her rubbery, slimy lips over the tight skin of Ax's cock.
She moved her hands up his thighs and cupped his balls, which hung heavily in the sac between his legs. His balls pulled tightly up against his hips and the sac contracted.
Gloria rubbed his balls through the sac, feeling the contours of the sac, itself and moving her hands over each of the balls, separately.
She moved her head down the length of his cock, taking Little Ax slowly into her mouth, sliding her slick, wetted lips down, down, near to the base of it.
Ax breathed heavily and clenched his fists. He locked his knees in place against their collapse and put his hands on top of Gloria's head.
"Suck it, baby, lick it," Ax chanted. "Suck it lick it suck it lick it." He chanted softly, breathing heavily, holding her head in his hands.
He placed his hands at her ears and holding her head in place, moved her mouth up and down his cock, in rhythm, showing her how he liked her to suck it.
"Like this," he said, moving her mouth up and down on him, "up and down like this, Glo, baby. You'll make a great wife someday, baby. You sure will."
Gloria did not know exactly how she felt about his help, but it did not seem to matter, at the moment. Ax was nearing his climax, she could tell.
She complied with his demands and moved her head up and down on his cock, as he instructed her, taking his cock into her mouth and then drawing away.
As Ax had little talent for endurance, her movements were not slow and easy, but rather, fast and hard, just up and down and up and down.
All the while Ax panted, his thighs and stomach muscles tense and hard, his arms locked into place at either side of him, his face contorted.
Gloria sucked him, holding her tongue firmly up against the underside of his cock, moving her mouth up and down on top of him, quickly.
She smeared saliva all over his cock, puckering her lips into a kind of cunt, taking him in and out of her mouth, rubbing his balls all the while.
His balls were tight, hard and pulsating with driving semen. Gloria could nearly feel the progress of the semen from his balls into the base of his shaft and slowly up the length of it, towards its purple, excited tip.
The more she sucked on Ax, the more he panted, slowly thrusting his hips forward into her mouth, holding again to her head and thrusting into her.
He fucked her mouth, holding her steady and moving his hips forward and back, thrusting his cock in and out of her. Gloria felt not much more effective than, perhaps, a grapefruit with the center hollowed out. She could see Ax, late at night, using his pillow in a similar fashion, holding it steady and thrusting in and out of it.
His breaths grew harsh and irregular and then for a time it seemed as if he had stopped breathing completely. Gloria was afraid he would pass out, or have a heart attack, which would be difficult for her to deal with.
She willed Ax to keep his shit together and sucked ever more fiercely on his cock, hoping to put him out of his misery as quickly as possible.
It took her very little time, after that. She could feel Ax's cock tightening in her mouth and Ax gasped as his dick exploded into spasms.
His gism jutted up the length of Little Ax, up the shaft and to the tip and out and quickly into Gloria's mouth, in three, harsh, unloading spurts.
As soon as he came he pulled out of her, patted her head, smiled, holstered his weapon, wiping it off on the tail of his t-shirt and trotted off to the locker room, to be with the boys in the shower, naked and satisfied, point to his member and brag of his conquest.
"It's a lonely life," Gloria thought, obscurely jealous of the boys in the locker room.
PART TWO
Grant Blackstone, Gloria's father, the principal of Better Arts and Science High, a lonely, widowed man in his late thirties, was filled with rage.
He was filled with rage at having to have turned his life over to secondary education, when what he had really wanted to do was manage an oil corporation.
He was filled with rage at the death of his wife whom he hated anyway, but at least she had been better than nothing.
He was filled with rage at the antics of his students, who clearly held him in total lack of respect and made sure that he knew it.
He was filled with rage that he, a lonely, single man, with a charging, aching virility and a big, hungry cock, was unable to satisfy his lusts.
Finally, he was filled with rage because his daughter had finally come into her own, sexually and had developed both the biggest pair of knockers and the sexiest smell, .that he had ever encountered. He knew she had to be getting it and when he found the guy that was pricking her, he'd plug him for good.
In all, he was not an unhappy man, considering that he had at his mercy the lives of twenty five hundred youths, with whom he could do more or less as he pleased.
His favorite pastime was sending notes home to parents of the activities of daughters and sons, making it impossible for any one of his student not to fear him, for of course not a BASHS student existed who was not breaking some rule, sometime.
Grant Blackstone liked to think about the strife he caused between parents and offspring when those notes went home to Mom and Dad.
He liked to think of children filling up with loneliness and resentment. He liked to think of their television privileges being revoked.
"Let the bastards miss three weeks of 'Dallas,' on account of me," he would say, to anyone who listened. He loved to torture all his students.
The only shining point of reference in Grant Blackstone's life was his daughter, Gloria. She was his only bit of hope amidst so much personal despair.
He had worshipped her, from the time that she was a little girl and as time went on, he worshipped her more and more. Now, with the coming of her sexual awareness, Grant had even more to worry about than ever.
He had to protect his daughter's virginity. For the truth of the matter was, though Grant Blackstone claimed that he hated all the boys Gloria went around with only because they posed a threat to her safety, he was actually terribly jealous.
Grant Blackstone wanted to protect his daughter's virginity only because he himself was afraid to take it away from her and though he would not admit this to himself, it was quite apparent in his insane jealousy of each of her friends.
"Who was that boy you were out with, just the other night, Gloria," Grant would demand, in the tone of voice he reserved only for such interrogatory sessions.
"Nobody," she would say, flattered that her father took such an interest in her, but frankly rather annoyed that he had such an obsessive interest in her social life.
"That was not nobody," Grant would say, "that happens to be Jimmy the Creep, the most frequent patron of the detention office and a candidate for a juvenile home."
Unlike other fathers who were worried about their daughter's chastity, Grant Blackstone had the advantage of being personally familiar with each and every one of the boys with whom Gloria had any kind of contact. Though he was grateful to have some kind of insight into the personalities of these boys, he also sometimes wished that he did not know so well exactly what was on their minds. It made him that much more anxious about his daughter. She was it appeared, constantly in peril from just such boys as these.
"Gloria," he would say, "I want you to know something. I want you to know that these boys you go around with, boys you may think are perfectly harmless, are actually dirty, nasty, lying, mean, oversexed little hoodlums. The only thing they want is to take advantage of you and then abandon you."
"Oh, Daddy," Gloria would say, tired of this particular lecture, which she recognized as Fathers Wisdom, Number 101, more popular even than Number 723, which concerned the fate of young girls who failed to hand in school assignments on time.
She was very weary of his lectures about her friends and feared that he would take steps to frighten away any boy in whom she was seriously interested.
"Daddy," she would say, buttering up to him, knowing how to placate him, "you know that they're just boys. I couldn't have any serious interest in any of them."
Often she moved close to him at such moments, sitting in his lap or hugging and cuddling him. "You know that you're the only man in my life," she would say.
Grant Blackstone lost all composure in such moments. He simply went all to pieces. He knew what his daughter was up to, but he was unable to deflect her intentions.
"Well, now, Gloria," he would say to her, "it's not that I dislike these boys, although I do, but you see, the important thing is for you to wait until you find a real man, one who is strong and mature and intelligent and aware of what he wants. You don't want to go around wasting yourself on any flash in the pan just because he drives a fancy car and is a fast talker. The man you must wait for will be older, wiser, distinguished, a sort of father figure, a man who will be able to take care of you and understand you. A man who will know how to give you what you want. A man who will know how to satisfy you, how to make you really happy."
The subtext of this little speech was always so achingly blatant that, rather than face the implications of their relationship, father and daughter simply ignored, studiously, the current of desire which ran between them.
Gloria clung to her role as the innocent little girl. "Oh, Daddy," she would say, facing off the issue, "you're the only man in the world who fits those qualifications."
At about this moment, Grant Blackstone would make a crucial readjustment in his position, to force his now erect and straining cock into submission.
Gloria went on. "If I waited for that sort of man, you know that I'd probably die before I finally got around to finding him. Can't I have a little fun in the meantime? After all, how will I be able to recognize the good man, if I don't know what a bad man is really like? Do you understand?"
Grant sometimes marveled at his daughter's maturity and her cunning intelligence. "Well, now," he said, "you are a rather mature young woman."
Then Gloria inevitably threw her arms around her father and planted a big, sloppy kiss on his lips. She did it, Grant sometimes thought, as if she knew exactly what kind of effect it had on him, as if she were measuring the corresponding rise in his trousers.
"Now come on," Grant would say, "give your old man a break. Be a good girl, now." He would ease her off his lap, or pull her arms loose from around him and send her on her way, more than ever convinced that her virginity was in grave peril, if in fact she still possessed it. It was a very grave issue.
Yet Grant's sexual needs were almost stronger than his daughter's, who at least was fairly nonchalant about her desires. She thought about sex only when she was directly confronted with the possibility of it, whereas he thought of it all the time.
As a high school principal, he had a certain moral standard of living to maintain and of course he couldn't wander around with just any floozy. He had to choose his escorts wisely and yet, the women who were acceptable companions for a widowed high school principal with a teen aged daughter were both few and far between and generally, not much interested in sex. Nor were they very sexually interesting, for that matter.
Mostly, they were the kind of woman who, single themselves, as a result of divorce or the death of their husbands, were looking for another marriage.
Grant Blackstone was not looking for another marriage. He was looking for a hot, dripping cunt. However, none of the women with whom he could be seen were quite of that type.
There was Millicent. She came about the closest. Millicent was a feminist who had abandoned her husband, a British Naval Officer, in the first wave of feminist enthusiasm.
She had subsequently discovered that freedom and liberation had more to do with attitude and state of mind than things like who washed the dishes when and made the bed and phoned the in laws and had decided that another marriage was in order.
She had come across Grant Blackstone at a faculty party, where she lived as a lodger of the hosts and had taken a keen interest in him.
He was attentive, attractive and retiring enough, not at all great and virile and dominating, as her first husband had been.
She was at once attracted to him. She wanted a companion, not a lover, someone with whom to share the great responsibility of her life.
Grant, attracted to her discovered in rather little time that her basic inclinations were not sexual and that, while she would submit to his bestial pleasures, she herself took not pleasure in them. Thus, they had reached a kind of impasse.
Still, she was the best of the lot of the women he had dated. At least she didn't refuse to acknowledge that she had a vagina, that he had a penis.
And she wasn't afraid of his tool, which was a comfort. Grant found nothing more disconcerting than that shocked cry women almost invariably uttered at the sight of his erect cock. He had first heard it from his late wife-with whom he had made the mistake of not sleeping until the night of their wedding-and he had dreaded it ever since.
But Millicent never shrieked. Grant remembered very well the first time he had shown himself to her. They were driving back from a party and Grant, passing by Voorhees State Park, pulled off into the shade of a glen, stopped the car and turned to Millicent.
"Millicent," he said, "can I show you something?" His hands trembled a little nervously. Her reaction to him now would determine the future of their relationship.
Millicent regarded his tone of voice, the plaintive look in his eye and his apparent excitement and she decided that she was about to be proposed to.
She turned her face up to his-he was very tall-and her eyes gleamed with expectation. "Yes, Grant?" she said, secretly holding the fingers of her right hand crossed, behind her back.
"Uh, Millicent," Grant said, "would you, uh ... I mean, um ... what I want to say, is, you see, we've been friends and um, well-can I show you something?"
Grant made an awkward movement with his hands to his trousers and Millicent assumed that he was pulling an engagement ring out of his pocket.
"You go right ahead and show me whatever you like," she said, her heart pounding. She had never been proposed to, before. Her first husband had just taken her, one morning, to the justice of the peace and before she knew what was happening, they were married. This was all new to her and very romantic.
Grant was encouraged. From Millicent's tone, he had the feeling that she wanted him, that she would go down on him right there in the car.
He pulled his erect penis out of the fly of his trousers, struggling to get it through the cloth flap in his underwear.
It was hard and hot and wet at its tip. It pointed up between his legs and nearly rubbed against the steering wheel. It ached with need.
"Look," he said, his face paling with anxiety. He prayed that he would not hear the shriek he had come to dread. He prayed Millicent would accept his gigantic dick.
It was dark in the car and Millicent could not see what he was pointing at. She said, "I can't see anything, I'm afraid. Can you move it a little closer?"
Grant was ecstatic. He took this as an offer and yet, to be sure, he said, "Here, put your hand on it." Taking her left hand, he closed her palm around the circumference of his cock.
Millicent did not say a word. The blood drained out of her face and she felt like crying. She could tell from the feel of his cock that it was very big, but she really didn't care. What importance a big tool when all she wanted was a husband?
Grant said, "Well? Urn, Millicent?"
"It's, uh, it's very ... nice, Grant. I mean, it's very, uh, large." She didn't want to discourage him, in any event and so was careful not to insult his cock. Insult a man's cock once and forget about ever seeing him again, she had learned.
Grant was encouraged. "You, uh, you want to, uh, you know, you want to suck it, or something? Millicent?" He said this very fast, anxious.
"Oh," Millicent said, considering. "Well." She moved her hand up and down the shaft of his cock. "Well, I certainly don't think I could suck all that, but if you want to put it inside of me, well, I suppose that would be alright."
Grant nearly jumped out of his seat. Had the ceiling of the car not been so close over his head, he just might have. "Oh, sure," he said.
"Well, now," Millicent said, "we certainly can't go back to my place. How about yours? Or shall we just go out somewhere in the woods?"
Grant was astonished at her willingness to cooperate, but to Millicent it was no big deal. She wasn't all that interested in sex and she didn't see the point in making an issue of it.
She knew that men were sometimes willing to get laid and if the right man asked her, she was always willing to comply with his wishes.
Grant was the right man and so she agreed to go out into the Park with him and take his cock between her legs. He had a lot of cock, but she wasn't especially worried about that, either. Her first husband had been a runner up for inclusion in the Guinness Book of World Records. Size was no problem.
"We can just go right out in the woods," Grant said, opening his door and rushing around to her side of the car to help her out. He had not even remembered to slide his cock back into his trousers and it bounced up and down between his legs, as if on hinges.
"Just a minute," Millicent said, aware that a man with his cock hanging, erect, out of his trousers, was a man with very little dignity. She slipped his shaft back into his underwear, with difficulty, patted it and said, "Lead the way."
Grant took her hand and feeling a little lightheaded, led her into the Park and towards the nearest dry, soft spot he could find.
They settled for a little clearing beneath a pine tree. Millicent looked into Grant's eyes, which shine d in the darkness and said, "Well, go ahead and take me."
Grant was almost put off by her willingness. He liked a woman who played a little hard to get. However, it had been so long since he had gotten any that he was in no mood to refuse her offer. He took her in his arms and kissed her.
Millicent liked kissing, but she didn't like much else. She moved her lips over his and sucked on his tongue, but as he pressed his groin to hers and moved his hips in a circle, he didn't get much of a response from the woman.
"You go ahead," she said, when she noticed that he seemed to have lost a little enthusiasm, "you go right ahead and do what you have to."
Put that way, it sounded as if he were merely being tolerated. If this had been just another night's tryst, he thought, I wouldn't go any further than this. However, it was his first time in more than a year and he could hardly stop himself.
He moved his, hands down her sides, over her buttocks and up under her skirt. Millicent reached down and slid out of her panties, so that she was naked for him.
Driving his tongue into her mouth, Grant lay one hand over the outer lips of her cunt and shivered. He always liked the soft, fleshy feeling of a woman's outer cunt.
She was damp, but not exceptionally wet. She was wet enough and that would have to do. Grant moved his hand back and forth over her cunt, caressing it.
They lay down in the pine needles and Millicent helped him get his cock back out of his trousers.
His underwear was stained with his wetness. He was terribly excited and anxious to get himself inside of her as quickly as he could.
Millicent lay back in the pine, needles and spread her legs. Her cunt was quite lubricated, now and Grant could smell the goodness of her.
He wriggled out of his trousers, baring his ass to the night and moved forward, guiding his cock into her, through the folds of her cunt and into her hole and deep inside of her.
Millicent spread her legs very wide to accommodate him. In a way, she enjoyed having a man inside of her, though she didn't make a habit of it.
Grant felt the inside of her cunt spreading for his cock and then closing around it. She was rather tight inside and clung to him, almost tenaciously.
Grant was all the way inside of her. He slid his hands up under her shirt and reached for her nipples which were pointed and erect.
He held onto her breasts and moved in and out of her, having the length of his long, hard cock into her and then drawing away.
In and out of her he forced his big, excited cock. He hung his mouth near her ear and nibbled on her earlobe. He drooled down her neck.
His ass bobbed up and down, naked, against the night air, a little chilly. He liked the feeling of the cold air against his naked skin.
He could feel a breeze up between his thighs and over his buttocks and nipping at the backs of his balls. He panted and thrust into her.
Millicent held him and she waited. She spread her legs wide and let him push into her. She liked him and understood his need to fuck her.
Grant enjoyed it, but not as if she really were a very good lay. She let him do what he wanted, but she didn't seem interested in reciprocating.
However, he could only concentrate upon his cock, closing his eyes as he felt his semen begin to rush up his shaft and towards the tip of his cock.
He squeezed her breasts very hard and his ass wriggled up and down. Quickly, he came, feeling the release of tension inside his cock and the short, hard, emptying spurts of semen pumping into Millicent's cunt.
He breathed heavily, rolled off her and kissed her again, thanking her. She smiled and he drove her home in silence.
Millicent was about the best that Grant had had since before he got married. He needed more than that. In his wildest dreams, he knew that the only woman in his life who would know exactly how to satisfy him, was his daughter.
PART THREE
Things were looking rather grim from Gloria's point of view. Nowhere, it seemed, was there a boy who truly met her qualifications.
In one form or another, they were all variations on a single theme and that theme had presented itself with her first experience, with Ax.
Ax had wanted her to suck his cock. She had sucked his cock. Then, as soon as she was done, he turned, without so much as a thank you, ran away and found some other boys to be with, giving them, she was certain, a blow by blow-yes, blow by blow-account of the entire encounter. Sometimes Gloria thought all boys were really just fags clothed in the disguises of real live men.
All they wanted to do was exchange cock sucking stories. Wouldn't it be easier, she thought, if they sucked each other's cocks and left the women out of it entirely.
Gloria was beginning to think that that would be very much easier. After her second and third experiences, she went through a long period of sexuality.
Her second and third experiences, each of them, were devastating. The second experience was with the student class president, a boy named Troy Goodhue.
Troy Goodhue was the all American boy. Troy Goodhue was the boy with whom every girl felt safe, the boy a young girl's parents liked to see their daughter bringing home.
He played soccer, a pleasant, non violent spot, he sang in the choir, he was a straight A student and he excelled especially in all the sciences.
He wanted to by an astrophysicist when he grew up and he had already been accepted at Cornell University. He was the only student in his class as Better Arts and Science High to go out of state to college. The whole town of Lockwood Gorge knew all about Troy.
Gloria found out what they didn't know about Troy Goodhue and she was shocked. She almost wanted to announce it, door to door.
"Troy Goodhue is a pervert," she would say, "Troy Goodhue is a weirdo. Troy Goodhue is a real, class A creep, a dreeb, a gross out."
But she didn't say these things about the senior class president. She didn't say them, because if her father ever found out how she knew such things about Troy, he would probably have them both arrested, hung, shot, drawn and quartered.
To avert tragedy, Gloria held her tongue. But she also held her nose. At the mention of his name, she's hold her nose dramatically and say, "P. U."
It was understood that Gloria Blackstone had some kind of insight into the inner soul of Troy Goodhue, though the type of insight was never defined.
She had had her eye on him almost from the very first. In addition to being the most popular boy in the whole school, Troy Goodhue was also, as far as Gloria was concerned, the best looking. She really had hot pants for him.
He was dark, with black hair and deep, thick green eyes, broad shoulders and round, rimless glasses she thought were very, very cute.
He was tall and angular and he moved gracefully and had a smooth, even, pleasant voice, which poured out of his lips like thick syrup.
She liked his ass, too, tiny and hard and round, jutting out from his very narrow hips. All around, he was clearly the man for her.
As soon as Gloria had her man picked out, it took very little time for her to narrow in on him and let him know that he was the chosen one.
Gloria herself happened to be one of the most popular girls in the school, at least among the boys and considering that she was a freshman, this was rather an accomplishment.
However, she was free with the boys and honest in a way that they appreciated. She was a favorite. It was understood that if she liked a boy, she would do anything he asked her to do. And of course, there was her offer to fuck the boy who seemed to her the most exciting and interesting.
Naturally, she was popular. So when she set out to get to know Troy Goodhue, it didn't take a lot of beating around the bush to get right to the point.
"I really like you," she said. "If you want me to suck your cock, or something, I'll do it. I mean, just tell me what you have in mind."
Troy Goodhue turned eighteen shades of red. His father was a Baptist minister. His mother lectured him on hygiene. He had never even masturbated.
"Why, thanks so much, Gloria, that's really very kind of you," he said, not knowing how else to respond to her, "but I think perhaps we ought to wait at least until we're married."
Gloria snorted. She certainly had no intention of marrying anyone, especially when she was still a virgin. "I don't think you understand," she said. "I don't want to marry you. I want to make out with you. Get it?"
Troy got it right between the legs. His big, uncut cock, about which he was embarrassed and which was the favorite joke of all the boys in the locker room, began to fill up with fluids. Troy sat down to hide the bulge.
"Well, now," he said, "I'm very flattered that you feel that way about me, but, you see, I don't know if that would be a very constructive thing to do."
"Who's talking constructive," Gloria said, "I'm talking sex. Either you want it or you don't. Now, why don't you tell me which it is."
Troy looked away from her, highly agitated. Of course he wanted it. Couldn't she see that? It was showing, right between his legs.
"I don't think you understand," he said, again trying to impress upon her the gravity of the offer she was making. "Pre marital sex is a mortal sin. If we do anything together, we'll be damned eternally to hell."
"Oh, wow," Gloria said, wondering how she had managed to get herself involved with a religious fanatic "What's hell like, then?"
Troy frowned. "It's a terrible place," he said. "When your soul goes to hell, it's tortured eternally and you can never see God, even at the judgment day."
All this talk of God reminded Gloria of her plight. She became depressed. "Now I'm never going to be able to give God back his virginity," she said, sitting down next to Troy and putting her head in her hands, to cry.
Troy shifted uncomfortably on the bench. He had never seen a girl cry. He didn't quite know what to do, though he knew he ought to comfort her.
Troy put his arm across her shoulders. "There's no reason to cry," he said. "It can't be as bad as all that, now, can it?"
"But you don't understand," she said. "You talk about God damning us to eternal perdition. Well I don't know about you, but God has spoken to me and He made it quite clear that he was interested in my having real sex as quickly as possible."
Troy turned white as a sheet. "You spoke to God?" he said, wondering what it was that he had done wrong, a Baptist minister's son, that God had not found him worthy enough to speak to him. "When did you speak to God?"
"Well," she said, "I didn't speak to him, I just sort of nodded my head in agreement. He did all the talking. I really didn't have time to get in a word edgewise."
Troy trembled with excitement and ignominiously, he thought, with jealousy. "Boy, I wish that God would speak to me some time."
Gloria saw her opportunity. "But don't you see," she said, "he has chosen you. He sent me to you, didn't he? He spoke to me about His virginity. He said He wanted it back. And He sent me to you to help me get rid of it."
Troy sat still, thinking over Gloria's claims. It was certainly possible that she had had communications with God, but it was not entirely likely.
However, it was all a question of faith and he certainly didn't want to evince a lack of faith in God's ways by turning down a Divine offer of sexual gratification.
Troy didn't quite know what to do. On the one hand, he certainly wanted to honor God's demands. On the other hand, he didn't want to be duped by a lusting young woman, who might trick him into something he would later regret.
Considering his options, refuse her offer or accept it, his erection got the better of him, pointing to the answer. Troy said, "What is it you have in mind, specifically? I mean, what sort of act, you know, were you envisioning?"
"Oh, well," Gloria said, "that's more or less up to you. You decide. You see, I'm not going to let you go all the way with me until I'm sure that you're the right one. God told me to be careful in choosing a mate, so I'm sort of giving a few boys some trial runs. The one who satisfies me the most gets to put it in me."
Troy was shocked at her use of such vulgarities. He tried not to think of sex in such pedestrian terms. However, the vocabulary certainly seemed to be having an effect on his cock. He could hardly contain himself.
"So you say that you'll do anything with me short of actual intercourse and that the mechanics of it, precisely, are up to me?"
"Troy," Gloria said, "you understand me perfectly." She smiled at him and glanced down at the bulge in his pants to let him know that she was aware of his desire.
Troy said, "Boy oh boy." He was beside himself. He had decided that he would take the risk and do as she suggested. He knew exactly how he wanted her to take him. He giggled, thinking of how it would feel.
"Are you sure, then, that you'll do anything I ask of you? I mean, I wouldn't want to offend you, or anything, by asking too much."
Gloria thought how amusing it was that Troy Goodhue might want something that would repulse her. She was certain that he could want nothing but the cleanest, least offensive sex of anyone in the whole world. She said, "I'm sure I can trust you."
"Oh boy," Troy said. He rubbed his palms together, happily. "You want to do it right now? Or do you need, like, a week's notice, or something?"
"Whenever you like," she said. "I'm flexible." Looking at Troy, she wondered how flexible she would need to be, really, to accommodate him.
Shivers ran up and down Troy's spine when he heard her tell him she was flexible. He could hardly imagine how good it would be to make it with her.
"I don't think I can wait," he confessed, his voice hoarse. "You want to come with me right now? It shouldn't take very long at all."
Troy got up from the bench, with difficulty, carefully sliding his cock down his thigh so that his trousers did not tent out in front of himself.
"Come on with me," he said, leading her from the hallway towards the bathroom. "I think this is just about the safest place for us to go."
"The bathroom?" Gloria said, feeling vaguely uneasy. "I can't go in the bathroom, I'm a girl. I have to go into the girls' bathroom."
"It's nothing to worry about," Troy said. "I'll go in first and make sure that it's empty and then you can come on in."
Before Gloria could utter a further word of protest, Troy had slipped into the bathroom, looked around and seeing that the place was empty, gone to the door and waved Gloria in.
"Wow," Gloria said. "I've never been inside a boys' bathroom before." She looked around at all the standing Johns and giggled.
"Come on," he said, "let's get down to business." He looked eager. In fact, Gloria liked him a little less for all his eagerness.
"We can't do it right here in the middle of the bathroom," she said. "What if someone comes in here while we're doing it?"
"We're not going to do it out in the open," he said, "we're going to go into one of the stall sand lock ourselves in there."
"Oh," Gloria said. She had never before thought about doing it in the bathroom. It seemed, to her, a rather unappealing place to do it.
In fact, she had never thought that Troy Goodhue was the sort of person who would take his girl into the bathroom to have sex with her.
From the first, she had had a rather romantic vision of Troy and she was just a little bit disappointed to find that he wanted to have her in the toilet stall.
Still, she was open to experience. Perhaps he knew something about toilet stalls that she didn't know. Perhaps he had something very sexy in mind.
They got inside the stall. It was narrow, with grey metal walls that started six inches off the floor and ended five feet from the ceiling.
The floor tiles were tan and grey, little square tiles laid out in patterns, chipped and wet, all over the floor. The toilet was white, with a black, U shaped seat.
Troy turned and latched the door. "Alright," he said, "I want to see you." He trembled and his voice was uneven, straining and crackling with nervousness.
"So," Gloria said, "here I am. See?" She had a funny feeling about Troy, all of a sudden, as if she couldn't be sure that his intentions were the best.
"No, I mean I really want to see you," he said. "I mean, I want to see you with your clothes off. You understand? Can you do that?"
Gloria surely could. However, she was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable about the whole thing. She hoped that whatever Troy wanted wasn't going to take very long.
Troy ogled her, as she undressed. He turned around and sat down on the toilet seat, practically drooling all over her. "Go ahead," he said.
Gloria undid the buttons of her shirt, slowly, from the top down to the bottom. Her shirt fell open, exposing her clean white bra.
Troy could see the points of her nipples pressing against the cups of her bra. His cock got much, much harder, spilling lubricating fluids into his shorts, from its hot and dampened tip. He could smell bathroom smells, urine smells and he was excited.
Gloria could smell shit. She wasn't wild about it. The bathroom was cold and clammy feeling and sort of wet and dank. She felt like she had been forced into a cold and dirty basement shortly after flood water had finally drained out of the place.
Troy urged her on. "Go on," he said. "Keep going." He had never seen a naked woman before and he was terribly curious to know how Gloria would look.
Gloria pulled the tails of her shirt out of the waistline of her skirt and slid the shirt down her arms and off her back. She turned around and hung it on the hook in the back of the stall door. Suddenly, she was cold.
Shivering, she reached for the zipper up the side of her skirt. She undid it and lowered the skirt to the floor, careful not to let it touch the tiles.
Stepping out of her skirt, she felt suddenly exposed, even though she still had on her bra and her panties. She turned around and hung up the skirt with her shirt.
Troy breathed heavily. He sounded like an asthmatic. He looked at her, she thought, as if he no longer saw Gloria, but merely a body.
"Go on," he said, restraining the urge to reach out and grab her breasts. He didn't want to, touch her. He just wanted to look at her.
Gloria couldn't decided between her panties and her bra. She put her hands to one and then to the other and decided finally to first undo her bra.
She reached around behind her back and unclasped her bra straps and then slowly let the bra slide off her shoulders, letting free her ripe young breasts.
Her breasts were pale white, smooth and ample, topped with pointed, brown nipples. A breeze hit them as they fell free from her bra.
"Oh," Troy said. "Oh." He pushed a hand down his trousers and openly fondled his cock, staring intently at Gloria's breasts. He sighed.
Gloria wanted him to make some positive response. She wanted him to reach out and touch her breasts, at least, or say something complimentary.
However, he merely fondled his cock, nodded his head and said, "Go on." Gloria felt as if she had ceased to exist for him as a human being.
She slid her hands under the waistline of her panties and pulled the panties down her legs, carefully stepping out of them. Holding her bra in one hand and her panties in the other, she was naked. She waited for Troy to do something.
Troy gaped. He stared at her, aghast, moving his hands up and down the shaft of his cock, which pointed out of his trousers, into the open.
Gloria started getting nervous. "Well?" she said. She didn't like the way that things were panning out. She didn't like it at all.
Troy stared at her, then his face turned rather hard and mean. He got up from the toilet seat, turned his back to her and dropped his trousers and his shorts. His naked ass filled the space between them. "Fuck me with your fingers," he said.
Gloria paused for a few seconds, letting that sink in. "Huh?" she said, eventually. She couldn't exactly be sure what he said he wanted.
"Stick your fingers up my ass and fuck me with them," Troy said. "Can you do that?" His voice was plaintive and almost pathetic sounding.
"Oh," Gloria said, realizing what it was that he wanted. She looked down at her right hand and at his ass. "Won't I hurt you?"
"You have short fingernails," he said. "I checked before we came in here. Don't worry. Just lick them first and then go ahead."
Gloria quickly summarized her position. She was standing naked in a locked stall in a boys' bathroom at Better Arts and Science High and now the President of the Senior Class wanted her to finger fuck him. She sighed.
"I hope this doesn't hurt," she said and she licked two of her fingers and pressed the tips of them against his pink, tight asshole.
Troy groaned. His stiff cock jutted out in front of him, over the toilet bowl. He wrapped one hand around it. "Go ahead," he said, "please."
Gloria lacked any real feeling of sympathy for Troy. She jammed her fingers up his asshole. "Oh," he said. "Now pump up and down."
She moved her fingers in and out of him, unable to draw a relation between her actions and her feelings. In a very short time, Troy yelped and unloaded a quantity of semen into the toilet bowl in front of him.
PART FOUR
Gloria's third experience was nearly as unpleasant as her second, though not by any means as depressing and excremental.
It started out alright. After her experience with Troy, she decided that she would do well to steer clear of the nice boys and opt for a less popular guy.
Perhaps, she thought, the nice boys were the worst ones to deal with. She decided that maybe a social misfit would be the most trustworthy.
She was getting a little worried about her mission, since the first two boys she had experimented with had proven to be a couple of losers.
She didn't really want to have similar experiences with every boy in the school. She realized that she was going to have to choose more carefully, this time.
So she went right by the jocks and the popular student leaders and picked out the one.
His name was Jim and he was a dramanoid. The dramanoids were those among the small group of students at BASHS who were interested in theater. They spent all their free time working on plays and were shunned from the larger social circles of the high school. They were weird.
However, Gloria could not see that there was anything particularly wrong with Jim. Other than his status as head dramanoid, he had no marks against him whatsoever.
Finally, he was a really good actor. It was seeing him perform in the school's production of "The Crucible" that led Gloria to decide he was worth a try.
In the final scene of "The Crucible," the character Jim played had to walk out onto the stage in prison garb, looking battered and the costume that he wore was ripped and shredded and most of his torso was exposed and both his calves. Gloria couldn't get her mind off his body.
Most especially, she couldn't stop thinking about his left nipple. He had a beautiful left nipple and she supposed, a right nipple to match.
She completely forgot what was going on in the play, so absorbed was she with his left nipple. It was round and pink and pointed, popping out of his skin.
His chest was so flat and well muscled and his nipple so round and pointed, that she was damp between her legs when the performance finally ended.
That was when she decided that she had to have him. She didn't even know him, but she was certain that she had to have him, dead certain.
This time, she was going to take precautions. She was not going to sit down next to the guy on a bench in the hall and ask him to fuck. That had gotten her into too' much trouble, already.
Besides, she thought, dramanoids were supposed to be more sensitive than most of the people at the school. They were supposed to be more refined.
Gloria assumed, then, that the way to Jim's cock was through his intellect. She sat at home and thought of ways to reach him. Finally, she decided upon the trick of sending him a fan letter and signing it, "Love from Gloria Blackstone."
A fan letter! What a good idea. She could appeal to his vanity and if she included in the letter a quote from Shakespeare, or something, she could appeal to his intellect at the same time. It seemed to her the perfect plan.
But what to write in the note. That was a problem. She thought and she thought and she thought and she finally came up with a serviceable message.
"Dear Jim," it began, "caught your performance the other night and loved it. Can't imagine how well you might perform in other roles. For, as the poet said, all the world's a stage. Hoping we may act upon it, together, I remain, Your Fan, Gloria Blackstone." At the bottom she added the number of her home room at school.
The note written, there remained only the problem of conveying it to him. Gloria decided that the best thing to do was to slip in into his locker.
For days she hid in the shadows, following him, until she determined the location of his locker. Then, late one afternoon, she slipped the note into the louvered grid at the top of the locker door and slipped away.
All I have to do now is wait, she thought. Just wait until Jim reads the note, realizes that I'm irresistible and comes running to me, ready for anything.
For, while her enthusiasm had suffered some blows, recently, her self confidence had not. She still knew that she was the most desirable girl in the school.
However, Jim didn't respond to the note as she might have expected him to, which is to say, immediately. She waited a few weeks before she knew how he felt about it.
One day, she found a note stuffed in her locker. The note said, "Gee, thanks. Glad you liked it. You want to have lunch some day? Meet you in Cafeteria B, period 6, Wednesday afternoon. Jim." That was all it said.
Boy, she thought, considering the effort that I put into my note, his certainly isn't very poetic. But still, a response was a response.
Wednesday, she was nervous, not quite knowing what to expect. She thought about all the dramanoid women Jim hung out with, wondering what it was about them that appealed to him. They were, on the whole, a rather loud mouthed, flamboyant bunch.
They dressed carelessly and acted all the time as if no one else in the world existed but just themselves, they were very dramatic, all the time.
Gloria didn't think she wanted to try and act like them, just to please Jim. She wondered about it, but then decided that the best strategy for her was simply to be Gloria.
So she was simply Gloria. Beautiful, stacked, sexually willing, Gloria. She knew that no normal boy would be able to resist her.
She was, however, rather nervous about the appointment. She had never had any exposure to the kind of person Jim was supposed to be.
What if they spoke two separate languages? What if they just couldn't meet on any sort of common ground? Still, she thought, sex is universal.
Wednesday, she met Jim in the cafeteria. She spotted him right away and walked over to him. "Hi," she said, thinking again about his left nipple.
"Oh," he said, "gee. Hi. How are you. Gloria? Hi. My name's Jim. I'm glad you got my note. Where she well sit? Gee."
Gloria was flabbergasted. He was completely ill at ease. He didn't have the faintest idea how to talk to her, what to do, where to sit, anything.
Here was this boy who had been so powerful on stage, portraying this highly sexually motivated man and just crackling with sexual energy and in person he was a bit of a dreeb.
It wasn't that he was actually undesirable, because she could still see that he had that wonderful body. But he just didn't know how to behave.
He was dressed rather carelessly, for one thing, with no regard whatsoever as to his looks. He wore big, square glasses. He shuffled when he walk.
He also had what amounted to a very, very slight stutter. He wrung his hands nervously the whole time he was with her. He was afraid to look her straight in the eyes.
Gloria didn't know whether to laugh, or to cry. They guy was so different in every way from the person she had seen up on the stage, she wondered if maybe he had a double, a twin brother, who was better adjusted than he was.
"You're not at all the way that I expected you to be," she said, smiling at him, trying very hard to put him at ease. He was quite nervous.
"Oh?" he said, letting out a sharp, hard laugh, that seemed to be characteristic of him. "What makes you say that?"
"Well," she said, "you know, the part that you played, well, it was just such a powerful performance, so charged with sexuality."
Jim turned a hundred different shades of red in about fifteen seconds. "Oh, yeah, well," he said, "You know. I was acting."
"But you weren't acting," she said, "that's the point. It was coming straight from inside of you, I could tell. Straight from the heart."
She wanted to say, "straight from the crotch," but she had the feeling that she would frighten him away for good if she did.
Jim blushed, as if he had never in his life received a compliment. "Oh, well," he said, "you know. I mean, acting, you know."
"Uh huh," Gloria said, thinking, this really doesn't leave much room for conversation, does it? "Why don't we go get something to eat?"
"Oh, yeah, uh, sure," Jim said, both embarrassed that he had not mentioned it in the first place and relieved that they would have the food, at least, to concentrate on.
Returning from the kitchen, they sat across from each other and ate. Gloria noticed that Jim ate like a bird compared to the way she had heaped her tray with all kinds of food, ready to wolf it all down in a few minutes.
"You're hardly eating anything at all," she said. "You ought to eat more. You'll get very thin if you eat that way, you know."
"That's sort of the point," he said. "The less I eat, the thinner I am. I mean, actors have to watch their weight, all the time."
Gloria said, "I see." His comment about not eating was the first really coherent statement he had made since the two of them were together.
She decided that perhaps what he liked was to talk about himself, personally, in relation to hiss acting and she was not far wrong.
Though she had thought at first that he was unable to take a compliment, she realized that it had been false modesty, if nothing else.
For it turned out that Jim could talk about himself interminably. It was obviously his favorite subject. Once she had gotten him started, there was no stopping him.
He talked on and on and on. He told her all about his plans and about how he felt about acting and about the roles he would like to play.
There was no stopping him. Finally, it was time for Gloria to go to class and she had to call a halt to his monologue. He made a date with her for the following Friday night. She hoped he would take her to a movie, where he wouldn't be able to talk.
Still, she wanted to get a close up look at his nipples and he didn't seem quite as much a creep as Troy had turned out to be.
Gloria had some hope yet for Jim. Perhaps he would turn out to be the man she wanted, after all. She sincerely hoped that he would. She didn't think that she could suffer through another real loser. One more like Ax or Troy, she thought and she was through with sex forever. God would have to come and get His virginity, Himself. Jim took her out to dinner. He was very polite, the whole time, laconic, pleasant. Not terrific company, but certainly better than some, Gloria thought.
Then afterwards he suggested that they go back to his house, where he was spending the month alone because his mother and father had jetted off to Europe.
"They leave you all alone in that house often?" Gloria said, envying him. She sometimes wished that her father would leave her all alone.
"Yeah," he said, "I guess they travel around a lot, you know. Off to here, off to there, jetting back and forth. My father's kind of an entrepreneur.
"Woww," Gloria said, wondering what an entrepreneur was. It sounded exciting, in any case. "So there's nobody home where you live?"
"Nope," he said and Gloria had the uncomfortable feeling that he was imitating Gary Cooper. Then he reached across the seat and put a hand on her knee.
So, Gloria thought, that's what he's up to. She smiled, secure in her secret knowledge that all any guy really wanted was a blow job, or something comparable.
Still, she let his hand stay on her knew. She said, "I won't let you fuck me, but I'll do anything else that you want. You understand? I won't let you put it inside of me, but anything else, no problem. Okay?"
Jim pulled his hand away from her knee. He was embarrassed. "No, that's alright," she said, "go ahead and leave your hand there, I don't mind."
He didn't put his hand back. Gloria had the feeling that she should not have said what she did. They rode in silence the rest of the way to Jim's house.
He had a nice old house, way back in the woods on a country road. It was quite a ways away from her house. He pulled into the driveway and helped her out of the car. �
Still, he hadn't said a word 'Then they went inside the house and Jim said, "You'll have to forgive me, I'm not really very good company. It's hard for me to do much of anything unless I have a personality to hide behind."
Gloria had the feeling that this was a hint. She had the impression that he wanted her to help him play out some sort of role, so that he could do with her as he really wanted. She searched her mind, trying to think of some kind of roles for the two of them to play. Jim paced around, nervously, as if lost.
"You, uh, you want a drink, or something?" He looked at her pleadingly, as if begging her to help him out of an uncomfortable situation.
Gloria decided to play the sophisticated older woman. "Sure, why not," she said, "I'm so dry I think my shores have turned to dust."
She sat down on the fluffiest looking piece of furniture in the living room, stretched her legs out in front of her and draped her arms over the cushions.
Jim looked pleased. He dashed out of the living room, his face all lit up. She understood! He went into the kitchen and mixed Martinis.
Returning with the drinks, he said, "Here you are, now, darling. Take a sip of that, it'll whet your whistle, I'm certain."
Gloria sipped at her drink. She said, "Darling, did you just pass the vermouth bottle over top of the gin in this glass? It's the driest Martini I've ever tasted."
Jim giggled and settled down next to her on the couch. "You're too divine, my dearest," he said, "too, too divine." He leaned over and kissed her neck.
It was a nice kiss, a pleasant kiss. She didn't burn with desire at the feel of his lips against her flesh, but, she supposed, if the two of them were acting, then that was her responsibility. She imagined that she was burning up with exquisitely refined excitement at the very touch of his lips.
"Oh," she said, "that was too, too divine. My nipples are simply burning up with heat. You bad boy, to make my nipples burn so."
Jim dipped his head down between her breasts and buried his face in her woolly sweater. Gloria watched him and her nipples did actually burn. Maybe there was hope for Jim.
"Why, you animal, you," she said, laughing, a high pitched, nervous, appreciating laugh. But it was too late for Jim, who had already changed roles.
"Get outta dat sweatuh," he said, "get outta dat sweatuh right now." He was pawing at her. His hands, which seemed suddenly much larger, like a couple of clubs, pawed at her breasts. And still, her nipples burned.
"Why, Cap'n Butler," she said, "how you do go on." She made three syllables out of "on," and lifted her sweater off over her head.
Jim marveled at her breasts. They were smooth and white and the nipples were quite pointed and large. He buried his head between them and nipped at the flesh of her breasts. He shook his head back and forth and licked her.
Suddenly, he was on top of her, pulling at his trousers, pressing himself against her, pushing her down on the couch, smothering her.
Gloria hardly had time to complain. She slid down on the couched and hoped that, whatever he did, he would show her his nipples.
He was, in any case, doing some wild things to her breasts. Her nipples burned and he flicked his tongue from one of them to the other and pawed her, roughly.
Gloria gave into his violent desires. She tore as his shirt, exposing his back and his chest. She closed her hands over his chest.
His nipples were wonderful, exciting and pointed, just as she had hoped. She moved her hands over and over across his blonde haired chest.
Jim worked his big, hot cock out of his trousers and held it against her. She moaned. His cock was really big and exciting.
Gloria dipped her head down to it and took it in her mouth. Sucking on it, she heard him panting very hard. He wanted to fuck her.
"No," she said, "I can't let you put it inside of me. Uh uh, not now." Jim sighed in disappointment and considered his options.
"I wanna fuck your tits," he said, his voice rough. "Lemme have your tits, I wanna fuck em." Brutally, he grabbed both her breasts and molested her.
He slid up on her body and moved his big, hot cock in between her breasts He held her breasts tightly and closed them around his cock.
Her chest was, warm. His cock was long and the tip of it reached up to her chin. He moved slowly up and down between her breasts, fucking her.
His cock slid up and down against her breastbone and he gripped her breasts and held them around his cock, surrounding it with her breasts.
On his up strokes, the tip of his cock reached her mouth. "Lick it," he said, "lick it when it gets up near your mouth like that."
He thrust up and down between her breasts and as his cock jutted up to her mouth, she darted at it with her tongue, catching the tip of it.
She left bits of saliva over the head of his cock and coated it with her spit. He moved up and down between her breasts, panting and grunting.
He was rough with her, pawing her all over, his hands moving from her head down to her ass and back again. She panted, uncomfortable under the weight of him.
Despite his slimness, he was a heavy guy and he nearly crushed her beneath him, thrusting his cock between her breasts with no regard for her comfort.
"Uh," she said, "not so hard." She tried to reason with him, but he was lost within the role that he was playing and didn't hear her.
Brutally, he moved his cock between her breasts, panting and gasping, his movements getting faster and more frantic, until, coming, he shot wads of hot semen all over Gloria's face. She licked at it, thinking, God will have to do without His virginity. I'm not going near another guy as long as I live.
PART FIVE
Lockwood Gorge, New Jersey was the sort of place where everyone knew what everyone else was doing and this social fact was reflected in Better Arts and Science High School.
Very little went on within the student body that did not event ally find its way, in some sort of exaggerated form, to Grant Blackstone's ears.
The story reported to him one rainy afternoon, however, was not the story he had ever wanted to hear about this particular BASHS student.
"Let me see if I understand what it is that you're lying to me," he demanded of the hallway monitor, who sat in his office.
The office was immense and dark and unpleasant and even a school employee, like this hallway monitor, had the feeling when he was there that he was to be severely disciplined. So large was the office that it had the effect of dwarfing any individual who walked into it. The only person who seemed to fill it, reasonably, was Grant Blackstone. He alone failed to be swallowed up by the immensity of the room.
The meek, placating hallway monitor already regretted having come in to tell the principal what he had heard about Gloria Blackstone.
"Are you trying to say to me," Grant Blackstone said to the frightened man, "that my daughter is being whispered about, maliciously, by students?"
The monitor was not trying to say anything of the sort. He was trying to say that he had overheard a group of students discussing the number of boys that Gloria Blackstone had had over the past few months. It was said that she would do anything.
The hallway monitor had a daughter of his own and he appreciated the anxiety that a father must go through, when that daughter reaches the age of responsibility.
As a father, he felt that it was his duty to inform Grant Blackstone of what he had heard. He did not expect to be cross examined by the man as if he were a Nazi war criminal at Nuremberg. "All I said," he repeated, "was that I overheard some kids talking."
"Overheard?" Grant Blackstone said. "Overheard? And just what exactly is it that you think you overheard? Would you mind telling me?"
At that point, the hallway monitor indeed did mind telling Grant Blackstone what he had overheard, but he knew that it was too late.
If he had thought that the principal would react in such a fashion, he would never have decided to tell him about it, in the first place.
However, now that he had started it, there wasn't really any way for him to back out of it. He had to stand by his statements.
"I only overheard some students saying that your daughter was rather-well, loose, I guess, is the polite way to put it, isn't it?"
Grant Blackstone felt his flesh go numb. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He was torn by conflicting emotions.
"Would you mind telling me," he said, "exactly what the words were which were used against my daughter and who exactly used them?"
Grant was in a highly agitated state. He had drifted somewhat away from Gloria, recently, as Millicent had begun demanding a great deal of his time.
She expected him to marry her, he knew and yet he could never marry a woman who gave him as little sexual satisfaction as she did.
Grant had not had a good lay, he figured, in fifteen years, not since about a year or two after Gloria was born. That was a long time.
The hall monitor spoke up. "I don't think I need to repeat the exact language," he said. "You know the kinds of things kids say."
"I do," Grant said, "and that is precisely why I want to know what things, specifically, were said about my daughter. If you won't tell me, I'll have every student in the school in here for questioning, until I find out."
The hall monitor didn't want that to happen. Probably, the best thing to do was just to tell Grant what he had heard. He took a deep breath.
"I, think the expression was, 'There's not a cock in creation she hasn't sucked.' That wasn't the only thing they said, but it was the only thing I heard, specifically."
Grant's voice went hard and cold, neutral sounding. "And how did you know that they were talking about my daughter?" he asked.
"I was standing in the hail between classes, across a bunch of kids. Gloria passed by. They whistled after her. That was when I heard that thing."
Grant held fire. There were any number of explanations for the incident. The students could have been repeating rumors, or making them up. They could have been speaking ironically, or they could have meant another girl, who had passed by before Gloria.
Still, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that, whether or not it was true that the students had said this thing about Gloria, it was probably true that she would suck every cock in the school.
Grant Blackstone saw, where before he had been willfully blind. Neglecting Gloria, of late, he had paid little attention to her activities. Now that he thought about it, sex must certainly be playing a big role in her life.
Grant realized that if Gloria were fooling around, it was no one's fault but his. He had had the chance to keep tabs on her and he had relinquished it.
He tried to trace the lapse back to a specific day, a time when he had not been there when she might have needed him. He blamed himself.
As for the hall monitor, he was highly annoyed with the man. What right did he have to come into his office and spread nasty rumors about his daughter?
"That will be all, thank you," Grant said to the man, making a mental note to see if he could have the man's position liquidated.
That afternoon, after school, he went out and bought a box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers and a record album, of a group he had heard Gloria mention and he hurried home in time to meet her bus. Gloria alighted from the school bus and ambled down the driveway, towards her house. Watching her, Grant realized that what the hall monitor had said he heard was true. Gloria now walked as if she had had something hard between her legs.
Of course, Grant was over reacting. Gloria was still a virgin. She was still waiting for the right man, though she had recently given up the search, as hopeless. She seriously doubted that the man for whom she was looking actually existed.
When she walked in the door, there was her father, torn between an impulse to abuse her and to shower her with affection, winning back her love.
"Gloria," he said "come here, I want to talk to you." He headed into the living room and she obediently followed him, not knowing what to expect.
She had not had a lot of contact with her father in quite some time. She hadn't really realized how long it had been since the two of them seriously communicated. Now she recognized that indeed it had been a very long time.
Suddenly she felt all vulnerable and dependent upon him, as she had not felt in quite some time. She was glad that he was there when she needed him.
In the living room, he presented her with the chocolates. He said, "I realize that I've neglected you and I just want to apologize," he said.
Gloria shrieked. Her father had bought her chocolates! No one had ever done that for her before. She was beside herself with happiness. "There's some flowers in your room," he said, "and a record album. I only wanted you to know that I'm sorry I've been so busy, lately and unable to spend time with you."
Gloria was so pleased that tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. She could hardly believe that her father cared enough about her to buy her things, just out of the blue.
"Now, Gloria," her father said to her, dreading the question that he had to ask her, "I know that this really isn't any of my business, in a way, but I have to ask you something rather personal. I hope you'll understand my reasons for asking you."
Gloria could not imagine what the question might be. She was nervous and worried that he was going to ask her something hard, a question that she wouldn't know the answer to.
He had done that when she was little, ask her questions she had been unable to answer and she had always been very upset that she couldn't answer them.
Now he was about to ask her another question that she was not going to be able to answer, she could tell. She wondered what the question was going to be.
She munched happily on her chocolates, sinking her teeth into the cream filled ones, which she really liked the best. She wanted to eat as many of them as she could before he asked her the question that she was not going to be able to answer.
"Go ahead and ask it, Daddy," she said. "You know that you can ask me anything that you want. Don't you know that? Go ahead and ask."
He knew that he could ask her anything that he wanted, but he was as afraid of this question as he was of the answer. He didn't want to ask her, really.
"Well?" Gloria said, expecting her father, if nothing else, to be firm and stern and decisive with her. He was always at least firm and stern and decisive.
"Gloria," he said, "this question really isn't any of my business, but then it is really my business, so you can understand why it is that I have to ask you."
Gloria was becoming a little impatient. She wished that her father would just get to the point. All that stalling. Still, there was time for her to choke down another chocolate. Peanut butter center, this time. Yummy.
"Gloria," her father said, "I know that it's getting to the time in your life when you're probably rather interested in boys and I was wondering, well, maybe you could tell me just how interested in boys you have become."
Gloria choked on a cocoa nut chocolate. She hadn't expected that question. "Huh?" she said, wondering if her father were asking her about her virginity.
"I know," he said "it's rather personal, isn't it, but, well, something came up today and I started thinking about it and I realized that we really haven't had any kind of talk, ever, about the facts of life. If your mother were still alive, perhaps then you would have someone to talk to, but it occurred to me that having no mother, you must feel as if you have no confidante. And so I thought, well, you could maybe confide in me. You want to tell me about your sex life, baby?"
Gloria had hardly ever thought about discussing her sex life with her father, but now that he mentioned it, she was sure that it was because she had heard something.
Some of the boys were beginning to treat her as if she were some kind of whore, or something and perhaps word had gotten back to her father.
After all, he was the principal. That was clear. He was responsible for the entire school and if he was too stupid not to know who was balling who, then he was pretty stupid and not at all the father that she had thought he was.
She was torn between wishing that he were in fact that stupid and hoping that he was not and she realized that he must have heard something really bad.
Gloria didn't quite know what to do. It was true that she was still a virgin, but she didn't know how to convince him of that.
However, it was also true that she had been having a lot of sex with a lot of boys and she didn't know how to tell him that.
It was a bad situation, all around, she realized and trying to think up some sort of strategy, she hit upon an idea. Not a very clever one, but still, an idea.
"Oh, Daddy," she said, "I really haven't let any boys do anything really bad to me, it's just that, you know, I've been so lonely for my Daddy's love."
Gloria curled up very close to her father on the couch and snuggled up close to him. "It's just," she said, "that I've been so lonely and every time I want to talk to you, you seem to be out with Millicent."
She wrinkled up her nose at the mention of Millicent's name, to express her dislike of the woman, although she really didn't care about Millicent one way or the other.
She pressed her cheek up to Grant's cheek and rubbed it against him, feeling the sharp bristles of his beard. "You're such a man, Daddy," she said.
Grant Blackstone had one hell of an erection. He simply could not contain himself. He told himself that he was a wicked, lonely man, that there were other things he might be able to do, that his daughter meant nothing sexual.
However, the signals she sent off were so clearly sexual ones, that he was unable to resist her charms. He sighed and took her in his arms.
"Oh, Gloria," he said, moaning low in his throat. He pressed his face up to hers and kissed her, sliding his tongue into her wet, sweet mouth. Her mouth tasted like chocolates. He held her more closely and ran his fingers up and down her back.
Gloria didn't say a word. It was the first time she had ever been treated with tenderness and maturity by a man. Suddenly, she knew. The man God had wanted her to wait for was her father. She knew now that she would do anything with him, at all. She pressed her breasts up against him. Her nipples burned.
Grant couldn't control himself. His daughter was so luscious and so wonderful. He had waited for this moment for a very long time and now it was here.
He undid the buttons on her shirt, so that he could get to her breasts. Her breasts were really lovely, ripe and smooth and firm.
Her nipples were erect. He sucked on each of her nipples, in turn and licked the insides of her breasts. He moved his hands over and over her young breast.
Gloria was in a state of ecstasy. She was all damp and excited between her legs. She could tell that her father really wanted her. It was a new feeling.
She hadn't had a man who had really wanted her. She had only had men who really wanted to get their rocks off. They had really wanted themselves.
But her father really wanted her and this was one of the most glorious moments in Gloria's life. Glorious Gloria. She liked the sound of that.
"I'm getting our clothes all wet," she said, indicating the stains that were spreading over her shorts and over her father's trousers. "Let's get undressed."
Quickly, she got off her father and pulled off all her clothing. Just as quickly, she jumped on him and pulled off his trousers and his underwear.
She gasped. "What a big cock!" she said. "It's wonderful." She fell on it and commenced licking and sucking it, as frantically as she could.
Grant smiled. He, too, was in an ecstatic state. He couldn't believe that his daughter liked him and wanted him as much as she seemed to.
He had resigned himself to a life in which no one really ever wanted him and thought that he was condemned to years and years of bad sex.
However, Gloria, his own daughter, was the only woman he had ever had who really seemed to appreciate the size of his cock and to know what to do with it.
She ran her hands up and down it and licked it and sucked it. She giggled and smiled and indicated that she was very happy indeed to have his cock.
Grant was beside himself with joy. It was such a good feeling to have sex with a woman who really wanted to have sex with you.
She was his daughter, but he had a feeling that it didn't really matter. What the hell, he thought, you only live once. Might as well enjoy it.
They were now naked the two of them father and daughter, on the big couch in the living room and they fondled one another, their hands and tongues roaming all over each other's bodies. They grunted and moaned and they giggled and their lips and tongues made smacking and gurgling sounds as each of them took portions of the other's anatomy in his or her mouth. They sucked and licked each other, endlessly.
"Oh," Grant said, concentrating on the feel of his daughter's lips around his big heavy balls, "you don't know what it's like to have you suck my cock like that."
Gloria sucked him diligently, enjoying the taste of his sweaty, salty skin. He was warm and his thighs were hairy and his flat stomach was hairy.
She bit at the flesh of his inner thighs and her hands worked up his chest to his nipples, which she tweaked, until Grant shouted out in amused pain.
Gloria said, "Daddy, my clit's all swollen. I want you to suck on it. Please? None of the other boys ever wanted to suck on my clit."
When she said that, Grant's cock leapt up into the air an extra few inches. "Spread your legs, honey," he said, "I'm on my way."
Gloria laughed and lay back on the couch, spreading her legs as wide as she could. Her cunt lips were pale and fleshy and her skin was smooth and damp.
Grant licked her outer lips, tasting her. He had not tasted a woman in a very long time. He licked his lips in happiness. She tasted very good.
"Oh, yes," he said, "oh, yes, that's wonderful. Oh, that's very good." He licked and licked and then he moved onto her inner lips, which were swollen with blood.
He sucked them, nibbling on them lightly. Her clit protruded almost at his chin and he turned his mouth to it, wrapping his lips around the head of it and sucking it.
Gloria moaned in delighted contentment. She could hardly stand it. Her father knew exactly what to do. He was really very good.
She said, "I want you inside of me, now. Please, come inside me. I need to have you inside me right away. Please, fuck me, please."
She lay back on the couch and arched her back at him, spreading her legs as wide as she could. She helped to guide him into her. She watched as his big, big cock slid all the way into her cunt. She could hear a slight splashing sound and a noise like farting, kind of, when all the air was pushed out of her. She was really lubricated and then he pierced her hymen. She screamed with pain, but as he drove on into her, the pain diminished and gave way to a pleasure like she had never known before.
She rode on wave after wave of sheer pleasure, holding onto his shoulders and losing herself to ecstasy as he rode her like a roller coaster, racing and diving and mounting, higher and faster, until it took her breath away. And she thought, as the two of them came simultaneously in spasms of hot and luscious come liquids, that God had finally directed her to the right man. "Here comes your virginity," she thought, "riding in on my very own father's gism." She thought that God would appreciate that.
