The process of growing up, of passing through the age of adolescence has, through the ages, been marked by great inner turmoil, uncertainty, and tremendous pressures from family and peer group alike. Certainly, in our society today, the problems of youth appear to be mere marked than ever before.
We hear constant reports of the pervasive use of drugs in our schools. Of shoplifting and other petty -- and not so petty -- crimes. Of promiscuity and dangerous VD epidemics.
Tracey Lawton is a teenager, embarking on her own special journey into adolescence. She finds herself plagued by her powerful emotions, sometimes feeling guilty about her awakening sexuality, sometimes getting angry over imagined slights and youthful misjudgments.
THE COUSINS EAT OUT -- the story of one average young American girl's coming of age. A lesson to us all. A reminder, once again, that growing up is not easy.
The Publisher
Chapter One
Tracey Lawton was excited about going to high school. As the summer was coming to a close, Tracey attended a family picnic with her mother. Tracey's rotten father had deserted her when she was only a baby.
During the picnic, Tracey's cousin Eugene suggested they take a walk. Tracey was a stunning young girl. She had long brown hair and juicy round lips that looked succulent when she glossed them with red or pink.
Her pretty, dark-skinned face was perfectly sculptured, round, firm, classic. She wore her hair for the most part slicked back with a part in the middle and pretty brown bangs across her forehead. She had big, sparkling brown eyes, and liked to pull her hair back in a flowing or braided ponytail.
Tracey had a luscious young body that had just ripened. Her tiny waist flared into incredible, supple hips. Her tits had become round, firm, and proud, and they always pushed up against her shirts and camisoles like two ripe melons.
She wore tight jeans that cradled her tight, beautifully rounded ass like a glove. She had on a tight yellow camisole and white tennis shoes.
The picnic was boisterous, taking place at the lake near Tracey's hometown, Lake City. She walked down the trail near the lake with Eugene. He was telling her how he was preparing to go off to college, and this impressed little Tracey.
He led her up into the thick trees that grew around the lake and took her on a dirty path back into the shaded coolness. He found a nice grassy spot surrounded by bushes and stopped.
"Wanna see my cock?" her cousin asked.
"Huh?"
"My prick. I'll show it to you if you'll show me your pussy," Eugene said, his body trembling, a rise spiking his jeans.
"We better not, Eugene," Tracey said.
"Aw, come on! It'll be fun and exciting!"
"No, gee -- we shouldn't do something like that," Tracey said.
Eugene was already unzipping his fly, unbuttoning his jeans, and he took them down. He didn't have on shorts, and as he pushed his jeans down on his thighs, his prick popped out and wobbled at Tracey.
Her big brown eyes widened. This was her first sexual experience of any kind, except masturbation, which she had tried and liked very much.
"Oh!" she gasped when she saw Eugene's hard six-inch prick.
"You like it?" he asked.
Tracey simply stared at the shining, stiff prick, intrigued by how smooth and hard it was as it stood straight out from between Eugene's legs.
"Wanna touch it?" he asked.
"No!" she squealed, but her eyes were glued to the handsome cock.
"Go ahead, it won't hurt nothin'."
He took her hand and placed it on his prick. Tracey felt a throb as her fingers curled around his rigid cock. His cock was warm in her grip, and so hard.
"Squeeze on it," he said.
Tracey tightened her grip and saw the plum-like cockhead bulge and spit out a spurt of cum.
"Ah!" she gasped again. "What... it's..."
"Shootin' a little," Eugene said.
"How come?"
"Because it's hard and hot for you, Tracey. You make it so hard. All day long I've had a hard-on for you," he said.
"For me?"
"You're so pretty -- so fine!" Eugene gasped, reaching out, pulling her to him.
Tracey pulled back, but got a tighter grip on his prick. Then she quickly let go. The hard cock snapped up and slapped Eugene's belly.
"Now, let me see your cunt!" he whispered. "No."
"Come on. I showed you mine. It won't hurt anything!" he moaned.
"Well, okay... for a minute," Tracey said. She took her jeans down to her knees and revealed her tight pink panties.
"Oooh, boy!" Eugene whimpered. "Take your panties down and lemme see it!"
She thumbed her pink panties, peeled them down on her thighs, and showed him her sweet, bushy brown pussy. Her cunthair was curly, and she had a generous patch between her legs.
"Whew, wow!" he exclaimed. "That looks good, Tracey!"
He began to play with his cock.
"I wanna feel your cunt," he said, reaching over and rubbing her soft pussy.
Tracey had never felt such excitement. A tingle of delight buzzed through her as Eugene fingered into her pussy and stuck a hot finger right in her slit, which had now become wet and sticky.
"Don't!" she whined, but she loved his finger in her pussy.
"You grab my cock," he said. "No!"
He took her hand and placed it on his prick again. "Now push in and out, like I'm doing with my finger, see?"
She pushed her hand in on his hard cock, then pulled out. She had an over handed grip on his flaming cock. His finger fucked slowly in and out of her pussy.
Tracey had never been so excited. She trembled all over, and a lightness gripped her body.
"We shouldn't do this!" she whispered. His finger was making a sweet slurping sound, like someone chewing gum. A divine clicking sound that Tracey heard and liked.
She pumped on his prick as he had instructed her, and felt it bulge and throb in the grip of her little fingers.
His prick bloated and spewed a thick spray of hot cream at Tracey's belly, all over her thighs and her pink panties.
"Oh, ah!" she gasped, seeing the cream spitting from the pricktip. "Eugene!"
"Eugene!" Tracey groaned. "It's shootin' stuff all over me!"
Then his finger found her little clit and he tickled it. She shuddered with ecstasy. She stiffened, and she trembled into a sweet climax of satisfaction.
"Au, ahhh! Ohhhh, mmmmmm!" she moaned, stiffening and shaking with delight. "Oh, Eugene!"
Tracey's big brown eyes were wide. Her face was a mask of pleasure. Her mouth hung open. She watched the jizz pour from her cousin's prick. She came again, harder, more intense this time.
Her hand was dripping with cum as she jerked faster on Eugene's prick, milking the young lad dry of his load, which was now splattered all over her pants, her belly, and her thighs. She continued to shudder and shake as he rubbed her clit with his finger, taking her to a pleasure plateau she had no idea existed.
She finally calmed down and let go of Eugene's prick. It wobbled and dripped long strings of cum. Tracey watched with fascination. His prick stayed hard, and he wanted more. He had his finger busy in her cunt, and Tracey finally reached down and pulled his hand away.
"Don't! No more, Eugene!" she whispered. "But didn't you like that? You came."
"But... we shouldn't. I mean you're my cousin, Eugene."
"So?"
"Well..."
"No one's gonna know! Didn't you like it?"
"Yes," she said, sheepishly.
"Let's do it again," he said, and pulled her down onto the grass with him. He stretched out beside her and put his arms around her. They kissed. It was Tracey's first kiss with a boy.
Eugene knew how to kiss, too. His lips were hot on Tracey's pink lips. His hand went behind her and he felt the blinding baldness of her beautiful little ass. His other hand went to her tits and he felt, cupped, and caressed them.
"Oh, no, don't!" Tracey gasped.
His prick punched her belly. She reached down and grasped it again, liking the slick gooey feel of the hardness in her little hand.
"I wanna fuck you," Eugene said.
"No, no!" she cried, and rolled away from him, sitting up on the grass.
"Then let's fuck with our hands. You jack me off, and I'll fingerfuck you," he said, sitting beside her, reaching over and shoving a finger in her cunt.
Again, Tracey felt a sting of pleasure as his finger plugged her pussy. He pulled down her jeans with his other hand, got them off, then took down her panties. Tracey sat nude and beautiful in the cool, thick grass. Her legs were out in a wide vet Eugene fucked her pussy with his finger, then took her hand and put her fingers around his prick.
"Now, you jerk up and down on my cock," he said.
"I don't know how!" Tracey whispered, looking down at his cream-soaked hard-on.
He pulled his jeans down so he was nude except for his sweatshirt.
"Here, let me show you," he said, and took her wrist and manipulated her hand up and down on the stalk of his stiff cock.
"Like this?" Tracey asked, tightening her hand. But his cock so creamy her hand moved it up and down easily on the thick cockstalk. "Yeah, pump on it like that, honey," Eugene said.
"You know we shouldn't be doin' this Eugene," Tracey said.
She was fascinated with the cock in her hand, and she liked hammering up and down, watching his cockhead bulge with each downward slide of her hand. She also liked what his finger was doing in her creamy little cunt.
"Mmmmm, that feels so good, Tracey!" Eugene whispered. "Do you like the way I'm fingerfucking you, too?"
"Uh-huh," she said, still watching her hand.
"You're so damn pretty and sexy, Tracey," he said.
"You think so?"
"I know so. I see the way all the men around the lake been looking at you today. I'll bet they all got hard-ons like mine."
"Wow, really?" Tracey asked, looking up into his face, liking the passion she saw there, the delight he was feeling.
"Jerk me, honey," he whispered.
"Well, I am, Eugene. Am I doin' it right?"
"Yeah, yeah, honey! Makin' me feel good! Keep pumping on my prick like that!"
"You gonna squirt all over like you did before?" Tracey asked, hammering harder and faster.
"Yes, all over!"
"Jeez!" Tracey exclaimed.
His finger fucked in and out of her pussy. The slit was tight and sucked on his finger. Tracey's hand was caked with cum. A ring of white goo had formed on her hand, in the rim between her thumb and forefinger.
"I wanna fuck! I wanna put my prick in your pussy," Eugene said.
"No!"
"Yes, let's fuck. You'll love it, Tracey. Let's just fuck for a minute. Okay?"
"Uh-uh! Better not do that! I never done that, Eugene!"
Her hand was blazing now on his hard prick. She worked harder.
Suddenly Eugene came. His prick spurted jism high into the air. Tracey was amazed. She loved the explosion of rich, thick spunk.
Little Tracey was giving him a great hand-job now, a sweet little grin on her face. She thrilled to the way his prick seethed and surged in her hand, the way the cream shot out and came back down, splattering on her hand and arm.
"Gosh, Eugene, it's... your cock is really doing wet stuff."
"Ahhh, ohhhhh, Tracey!" he groaned. "Don't stop, don't stop!"
She slugged and moved her little hand, pumping all the sticky cum from his hot prick. Her hand was drenched with cream. She banged up and down harder and faster. Eugene was all steamed up, tingling all over with the feelings of his quivering climax.
"It's like it's raining this stuff!" Tracey gasped, her eyes still wide in amazement, her hand slurping on his cock, making loud slushing sounds.
"Oh, that feels good!" Eugene panted.
She finally flushed him out. But it didn't relax Eugene. He went to work poking his finger in and out of her pussy. He pushed her back on the grass. She spread her legs. Eugene sat beside her and fucked his finger in and out of her hot little cunt.
Tracey was intoxicated, simmering with a new passion. She squirmed on the grass. Her cunt oozed damp pussyjuice. Eugene lathered his finger in her pussy. She stiffened and pushed her hips upward at his thrusting finger. Then she came. She twitched, jerked, and her mind was in a delirious frenzy. She quivered all over.
"Ahhh, Eugene!" Tracey whispered hard and stopping her wild jerking.
Chapter Two
Tracey lay back on the grass, catching her breath. Eugene sat beside her. Her little hand was soaked with cum. His finger dripped with her juices, and his cock was still hard.
"Now, let's fuck!" he whispered.
"No," Tracey said quickly.
"Well, let's at least dry-fuck then."
"Dry fuck?"
"Put your panties on. I'll fuck your panties."
"You're really naughty, Eugene, you know that?"
He grabbed her panties and handed them to her. She refused to take them. He slipped them over her tennis shoes and up her legs. He pulled them into place on her hips and ass. They were wet in spots where he had cum on them the first time Tracey had pumped him off.
Tracey lay on the grass in her pink panties and her tight, yellow camisole that bulged with her tits. Eugene got on top of her, between her legs. His cock was as stiff as iron. He lowered down, holding his prick, guiding it to the crotch of her panties.
She felt his cockhead punch against the soft nylon. She felt a tickle on her pussy. Eugene started fucking up and down on top of her.
"We shouldn't be doing this, Eugene!" Tracey whispered. "We oughta get back to the picnic!"
But she did like the way his cock pushed at her wet pussy, the way her panties became all soaked and sticky at the crotch. Eugene was in a frenzy.
"Wiggle your ass," he said.
"How?" Tracey asked.
"Bump it up and down!"
"Like this?"
"Yeah, yeah... oh yeah!" he cried, humping faster, his ass banging violently, his balls slapping against her fine little ass.
"We're fucking now," Eugene sighed.
"No, we're not," she said.
"Almost!"
"You're fuckin' my panties, that's all!" Tracey groaned, bouncing up and down under him as her cousin had instructed her to do.
He fucked his cock into the crotch of her panties, had a crease clit in them now, and Tracey felt the tip of his cock rubbing her little clit through the nylon.
"Oh, jeez!" she gasped delightedly.
"You like this, don't you?" Eugene asked.
"Mmmmmm, yeah, it's... it's..."
"Good, that's what it is, huh?"
"Yeah, good, Eugene!"
"Fuck my panties, Eugene!"
"Again... oh, again, please!" he begged.
"Fuck my pink panties, Eugene?" Tracey whispered, a sweet smile on her lips.
"Oh, honey!" he cried, and hammered his ass like a jackhammer, rubbing the knob of his cock into the nylon crotch of her panties, fucking right against Tracey's little clit.
Eugene humped fast, moving up and down on top of Tracey. She squirmed her shoulders and head off a little to one side and looked back so she could watch the way his ass pounded her. To see his naked, humping ass excited and delighted her.
"One more time!" Eugene cried.
"Okay, fuck me! Fuck my panties, Eugene!" Tracey moaned, liking the sound of the words. She had never talked this way before, but it strangely ignited her passion.
She knew she shouldn't say such words, but Eugene wanted her to. She slithered under him, lifting her beautiful little ass off the grass and bouncing her hips up at his plunging prick.
"Oh, Tracey!" he groaned. "Oh, oh, oh, sweetheart!"
"You shouldn't call me sweetheart," Tracey said.
"But that's what you are!" he whimpered, fucking and pumping his hard, young cock at her pantied crotch. Her pants were all gooey and soft. His prick was wedged into the nylon, and he fucked it harder and deeper into the softness.
"Say it one more time, Tracey!" Eugene whispered.
"No, that's enough!"
"Please, I'll give you five dollars."
"Okay, fuck me! Fuck my panties! Fuck my panties, Eugene!" Tracey yelped.
He stiffened and his ass hammered harder, jabbing his cock into her panties. He came, a gusher of sweet jizz spilling into the thin panties, squirting all over Tracey's thighs, splashing hot and creamy at her crotch.
"Ah, oh!" he screamed. "Ahhhh, I'm shooting!"
"You're shootin... all your stuff..."
Tracey's words trailed off into a sobbing whisper as she came with him. It happened fast. The hot tickle on her clit overwhelmed her and she stiffened below him, her ass in the air as she vibrated through a brilliant, beautiful orgasm.
Eugene's prick splattered cum onto her panties. Big gobs of it ran down her young, tanned thighs. She continued to shudder beneath him as he fucked harder and faster, then finally collapsed on top of her, huffing and puffing, trying to calm himself down.
Tracey felt good all over. The toasty feeling of her climax had gripped her and taken her to an island of paradise, and she knew right then that she loved to cum, loved to feel the great feeling that had tingled her all over.
Eugene rolled off, and lay beside her on the grass. His cock finally started wilting. He was still panting hotly.
"We have to get back to the picnic, Eugene," Tracey said. "You gonna give me some money now?"
"Sure," he said, and pulled on his jeans, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. He handed Tracey a crisp twenty-dollar bill.
Tracey stood up. Her panties were sopping. Spunk dribbled down her thighs onto her knees. Eugene handed her his hanky. She dabbed at the crotch of her panties, wiping the jizz from her pretty legs.
"I think you ruined my panties, Eugene! They're soaking wet all over with your stuff."
"I know, and I love that!" he whispered, fondling his prick. It hung out of the fly of his jeans. Tracey bent over to put on her jeans. Her ass looked good.
Eugene felt a twinge. His cock leaped in his hand.
"Boy you got a nice ass," he said. "Eugene, you stop talking like that," Tracey said, turning her head, catching him looking at her ass. She saw that he had his cock in his hand, that it was again rising to a creamy erection.
"Put that hard-on away, Eugene! We have to get back!"
"Just let me jerk-off to YOU."
"Jerk-off to me?"
"Yes, masturbate while I look at you," he said.
"No!"
"Please let me!" he pleaded, holding his prick in his hand.
Tracey stood before him, her jeans in her hand. She looked good in her wet pink panties and yellow camisole.
"I said no!"
"We can both masturbate."
"No, we gotta get back, Eugene!"
"I'll give you twenty dollars, Tracey!"
Eugene went over to Tracey. His hand slid between her legs. He rubbed the sopping crotch of her pink panties. He still had his prick in his hand.
"I'll come and take you to the fair next week if you will. I'll take you on all the rides, to the shows, and give you spending money."
"Well, jeez, Eugene! What do you want me to do?"
He stuck his hand down into her panties, through her fuzzy thatch of pussyhair. She shivered with glee as she watched his hand move in her panties. He shoved a finger into her cunt again.
"No, don't, Eugene!"
"Come on, let's get down on the ground and fuck."
"No!"
"Just for a minute!" he whispered, his knuckles bulging out the crotch of her panties, his finger fucking joyously in her young pussy.
"Uh-uh!"
"Just think! I'll take you to the fair, and I'll pay for everything -- give you spending money. I know you like the fair and it's next week out at the fairgrounds."
"I wanna go, but I better not."
"We'll just fuck for a minutes that's all."
"I've never fucked, Eugene!" she whispered.
"Come on. I'll show you," he said, pulling down her panties. He knelt down and took them off. They were like a wet washrag in his hand.
He pulled Tracey down to the ground with him and laid her back on the grass again.
"How much spending money you gonna give me, Eugene?"
"I got lots of money saved for college! I'll give you lots!"
"How much?"
"Fifty dollars?"
He was on top of her now. His jeans were down around his ankles. Eugene guided his prick to her cunt and pushed his cockhead in.
"Ah!" Tracey gasped.
"I'm in there!" he whispered, and began a slow stroke.
"Ah, ah!" Tracey groaned.
She had never had a prick in her pussy. His cock was so hard and big in there, and it felt good. She spread her legs wide on the ground. Eugene fucked up and down slowly, sawing his cock in slushing strokes in and out of her tight cunt. His ass humped high.
"We're fucking," he said.
"Just for a minute!" Tracey moaned. "Yet, fuck for a minute." Tracey tucked her chin into her collarbone, looked down, and saw the slick slide of his prick connecting to her cunt. She watched the way it fucked in and out.
"Tell me I'm fuckin' you good!" Eugene whispered.
"You're fuckin' me good, Eugene!" Tracey whispered.
"Ah, yeah! Oh, baby! You're good, Tracey! You're a good fuck!"
"You minute is gonna be up soon," she said.
He fucked faster and harder, pounding his big hard cock into her cunt. His ass hammered hard on top of her, his balls smashed against her ass.
"Tell me you like to fuck, say that to me, Tracey!" Eugene gasped.
"No!"
"Come on, say it."
"No!"
"I'll give you five dollars! Say it!"
"I like to fuck, Eugene!"
"Again!"
"One more time then!" Tracey whispered. "I like to fuck!"
"That makes me so hot, Tracey."
She could feel how hot it made him, because his cock was as thick as a flashlight in her cunt. She could feel the throb of his prick on her cunt lips.
"We've done it a minute now, Eugene! Stop!"
Eugene was hot, and he hammered hard on top of her. He knew he could cum again. He needed to. He had been hot for his young cousin for two years. He'd dreamed of this moment, and he wasn't about to stop.
"Just keep fucking," Eugene said. "No, stop!"
But her hips were moving under him. Tracey's fine little ass was undulating beautifully against his punching prick. She had her arms around his neck.
Then she felt a tingle again. It happened just as Eugene unleashed a final load of spunk into her pussy. She felt the hot splash of his cum. She stiffened like an ironing board. She shuddered and her body vibrated. She loved the tickling sensation that ripped and quaked through her.
"I like to fuck, Eugene!" she cried. "I like to fuck! I like to fuck!"
Chapter Three
Her experience with her cousin Eugene was not something young Tracey would ever forget. Those forbidden moments in the deep, damp shade of the pine trees along the lake, those passionate minutes in the weeds were now an exquisite memory, a flashback that would come screeching back over the years -- and each time it did, Tracey would shiver with excitement.
She wondered if Eugene would keep his promise and take her to the fair. She would have to wait to find out, because school was starting and she had to concentrate on getting prepared, registered, and settled.
Since it was a Catholic school, Tracey had to wear a uniform. She put it on the first morning of school and looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't overjoyed about having to wear a uniform, the same attire every day, but she did figure it would save money on clothes.
Money! That was another thing. All the money Eugene had given her that day in the weeds. She had no idea money was so easy to make.
Tracey had slipped into the dark-blue skirt that had long pleats. It fit her well. It was very short, and the top fit tightly around her hips and down the slope of her ass. The skirt was no more than sixteen inches long. She added the white sweater that went with it, then put on the white wool knee socks. To this, she added blue and white saddle shoes.
Tracey tied her hair in a long ponytail, parting it down the middle and splaying out the lovely bangs across her forehead. Her thick, juicy lips worked well with her hair. Her whole face was enhanced.
She pulled up her blue skirt and snuggled into a pair of tight pink panties.
Did men like to look at her as Eugene had said? Tracey wondered. Did they get big hard-ons like he said? She found out soon enough, because she now kept her eyes open for such happenings, and the first day of school she noticed how all the boys looked at her. Even the teachers seemed to gaze at her body with hot eyes. Tracey liked the attention. In fact, she adored it.
During her first class in English, she could see that the teacher, Mr. Palmer, liked her. He seemed to play to her as he lectured about modern literature, about poetry.
"There is no good poetry," he said. "Unless of course we include Anne Sexton."
Tracey took notes and cuddled at her desk, her legs crossed, a raving teen beauty. After class, she gathered her books and was about to leave when Mr. Palmer called her over.
"You seemed very interested in what I was saying, Miss Lawton."
"Oh, yes, sir."
"Are you interested in literature?"
"Sure."
She saw his eyes drop to her while sweater and stare at the push of her little tits. She smiled.
"Perhaps we can discuss it more sometime," he said.
"Oh, sure, ski I'd like to!"
Mr. Palmer was so excited by the young girl that he had all he could do to stop himself from grabbing her and kissing her sweet, luscious pink lips.
Tracey could tell how hot he was for her, and she absolutely loved it.
My teacher has the hots for me, she thought as she stood there.
"You are a lovely young lady," he said. "Thank you, sir. If you gave me twenty dollars I'd let you kiss me."
Mr. Palmer was stunned. Never, in all his years of teaching, had he ever had such a proposal.
"Why... why... of course I'd like to kiss you," he gasped.
He reached into his pocket, took his wallet out, and fished for a twenty. He found one and handed it to Tracey. She took it, loving his trembling hand, his hotness for her.
Mr. Palmer was forty. He had sandy hair, flecked with gray at the sides. He was very handsome, lean, over six feet, and he radiated a jagged, rough kind of attractiveness. He wore gray slacks, black shoes, a blue blazer, and a light-blue buttoned-down oxford shirt with a blue and red tie.
He took Tracey in his arms, he held her close, tilted her chin, and kissed her warmly, his tongue licking over her pink-glossed lips, which tasted like sweet, fresh bubble gum.
Tracey couldn't believe how easy it was to make Mr. Palmer give her money for a kiss. She liked the power she had suddenly found, the allure and magnetism of her beauty and fine body.
Mr. Palmer squeezed her tighter. She felt his cock harden against her, and she knew right away it was bigger thin her cousin's. His hands fluttered down her back and plunged into the blue pleats of her skirt. He fanned his palms over the round plumpness of her tight ass.
He cupped her asscheeks and squeezed, pulling her to him, against his bulging cock. His mouth opened wider and he shoved his tongue into the bubbling warmth of Tracey's mouth, tasting the bubble gum she had been chewing.
"Want my bubble gum?" Tracey asked between smacks of his mouth and the press and wiggle of his tongue.
"Oh, yes!" he whispered.
She pushed her tongue out with her gum sitting on the tip. Mr. Palmer sucked it off. He chewed on it, then kissed her again. His hands danced on Tracey's amazing young ass. His cock throbbed and pounded against her belly.
He lifted her skirt up from behind and got it up over her little yellow panties. He cupped his hands on her ass and felt the smooth roundness of her ass cheeks through the thin nylon.
Tracey was excited by the hardness of his prick, the rugged handsomeness of his maturity. She pressed against his hard prick.
Mr. Palmer thrust a hand around front and slicked it up her thighs toward her pussy.
"Uh-uh, no! Not there!" Tracey whispered. "Oh, but my dear darling. I'm so hot for you, can't you tell how hot I am for you?"
"Yes!"
"Then let me get into your panties."
"No!"
"I'll give you another twenty," he said quickly.
"Well, I guess I can show you mine and you can show me yours then," she said, looking up at him, seeing the wrinkles of passion creasing his handsome face.
"Yes, by all means. Let's do that," he said.
Mr. Palmer took off his blazer, unzipped his fly, and withdrew his prick. It was a solid, hard nine inches. The stalk was thick and round, the cock head red, like a polished apple.
Tracey gasped at the sight of such a huge cock. The skin was tight, and she could see the big prick throb. Her mouth hung open in amazement.
"Oh, wow!" Tracey gasped, staring at the huge cock sticking out of Mr. Palmer's fly as it lifted upward, bending in an upward curl near the end.
"Okay, show me yours, Tracey," he said. She lifted the hem of her blue skirt, pulled it up around her hips, held it there with her elbows as she peeled her sweet, yellow panties, down on her thighs, and showed Mr. Palmer her magnificent pussy.
"There," she said.
"Oh, yes, very nice!" he whispered, his voice hot, trembling.
He reached out and patted her pussy. Tracey reached for his cock, grasped it, and gripped the throbbing hard-on tightly.
"Mmmmm, feels good, huh?" Mr. Palmer asked.
"Uh-huh!" she groaned, still staring at the huge erection he offered to her.
Her hand tightened on his huge, thick prick. She loved the feel of the rigid cock stalk in her grasp. She liked how the prickhead expanded when she tightened her grip.
He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, his hand rubbing on the fuzzy delight between her legs. She held her skirt up with one hand and had an underhanded grip on his cock with the other.
"It's very big!" Tracey exclaimed.
"It's big for you."
She remembered how Eugene had said he was hard for her also. And she wondered about that, wondering if men got hard just thinking about her.
"It got all big like that because of me?" Tracey asked, moving her hand over and along his big long cock, pressing down on the top of it. She let go, and the huge prick snapped up and wobbled tremulously.
"Ah!" she gasped, again surprised at the enormous length of the shining erection.
"Yes it did, just seeing you in class sitting in that little desk. You looked so good."
"Did I?"
"Yes," he said, still rubbing her pussy. Tracey took his hand away. "Uh-uh, better not, sir."
"Oh, please!"
"No!" she whispered. "That's enough, we just said we were gonna show each other!"
"But, can't I feel it, can't you feel my prick? Just look how it's throbbing for you!"
"Yeah, I see."
"Lemme in your panties."
"Better not."
"I'll give you another twenty dollars!" Mr. Palmer whispered.
Tracey didn't know if he meant that he wanted to put his hand in her panties or his big, pulsing prick.
"I guess you could fuck my panties if you want to," she said.
"Oh, what a marvelous idea!" he gasped. "Yes, let's!"
He took out another twenty and handed it to her. Tracey put the bill in her purse and again lifted the hem of her little blue skirt.
"I have an idea," he said. "Here, you sit on my desk. Yeah, up like that."
Mr. Palmer helped lift the darling girl onto his desk. She sat on the edge, her skirt up at her waist. He moved between her legs, clutching his cock and guiding the big prickhead to the crotch of her yellow panties. He began jerking his cock and mashing the tip into her panties.
Tracey watched how he slowly jacked on his cock, punching the big, round cockhead at her pussy, into her yellow panties. Her legs were spread wide, hanging off the desk. Then she leaned back an her elbows, chin down, still watching Mr. Palmer jerk-off into her panties.
Mr. Palmer dropped his pants. He had no shorts on. His cock, so long and big, with the curl an the end, pushed into her thin panties.
"Oh darling," he said. "You're so beautiful, so fine."
Tracey gave him a sweet little grin as she looked into his handsome face. He put his cock on the crotch of her panties and began rubbing the underside of the cock stalk on her pussy, patting it wildly.
"Wow!" Tracey groaned. "You're beating it against my panties!"
"Yes, and I'd like to do more."
"What?"
"I'd like to fuck you, Tracey."
"Better not, sir. It's too big, isn't it?"
"No!"
"Well, better not, sir. You can fuck my panties like that, though," she said.
"Just let me take them down, okay?"
"No!"
"I'll give you an A in class."
"An A? And I wouldn't have to do any homework and sniff?"
"No, you wouldn't -- just let me take your panties down, dear."
"Well... I guess it's okay then." Mr. Palmer's hands shook as he removed her sweet yellow panties, pulling them down her thighs to her knees, and taking them off her ankles. He held them in one hand as he stood up and moved between her gorgeous, strong legs again. His cock wagged, wobbled and slapped at her lush thighs.
"You gonna stick your cock in me, sir?"
"Yes!"
"Not too far, huh?"
"Just a little, like this," he said, pushing his prick into her juicy little cunt.
"Oooooff!" Tracey gasped.
"Ah, darling, that's good," he said, beginning a slow, fluid fuck-stroke.
Mr. Palmer lifted her legs, hung them up over his shoulders, and began fucking in and out, sawing his huge cock into her pussy.
"We're fuckin', Tracey!" he whispered. "I know," she mumbled, still watching the slick slide of his thick prick as it slushed in and out of her hot little cunt.
"This is wonderful," he said, shoving three more inches of cock into her cunt.
"Ah, oooooh," Tracey moaned.
He held her legs high. His balls banged her ass and his prick filled her tight cunt. The slide of it made slurping, gooey noises.
He hammered his ass harder, fucking her real good, and Tracey liked it. She shivered with delight, joy, and excellent ecstasy.
"You're really fucking me, sir! You're really fucking me now!"
"Oh, yes, and isn't it wonderful?"
"Uh-huh!"
"And you'll let me keep your panties, too? Won't you?"
"Keep my panties?"
"Yes, I want them! I wanna fuck them when I can't fuck you!"
"Whew, wow! You are bad, sir!"
"Now we're fucking good, aren't we, Tracey?"
"Yes!"
"You like it don't you?"
"Yes!"
"You're a good fucker, aren't you?"
"Yes," she said. His prick hammered her cunt. The cock stalk bulged. The heat of his stroke overwhelmed her and the tickle of a climax began deep inside her. A tingling gripped her. She threw her head back on his desk, her ponytail swishing from side to side as she twisted under him.
Mr. Palmer came, unloading a huge spray of jism into her pussy.
"And oh, sweet baby!" he cried.
"Ohhhhh, sir!" Tracey sobbed.
"I'm shooting!" he yelled.
"I know you are! I know!"
"You, too?"
"Yeahhhhhhhhhh!" Tracey gasped. "Oh, yeahhhhh!"
Chapter Four
Beautiful young Tracey sat in her room the Friday night after the first week of school wearing a pretty pink nightie and pink bikini panties. She was writing her diary all about Mr. Palmer and what had happened at school.
She wondered if Eugene was going to take her to the fair, as he had promised.
Her mother, who had been drinking gin and watching TV, called from below. "Phone for you, Tracey."
"Okay!"
She went to the hall and answered the phone. It was Eugene.
"Still wanna go to the fair?" he asked.
"Sure!"
"Okay, how about if I come by and pick you up tomorrow in the evening, then we'll go."
"Sounds great," Tracey said.
She hung up and her mother yelled: "Who was it?"
"Eugene! He's taking me to the fair tomorrow."
"That's nice," her mother called. "He's such a nice boy."
Tracey slipped into a fresh, pretty pair of pink panties, hooked her swelling teen tits into a lacy pink bra, then combed her hair. She stood in front of the mirror, her hair full and shiny. Tracey admired her excellent body. Her hand slid down and she patted her pussy. She smiled.
She put her hair into a ponytail, then she looked in her closet. She selected a red denim mini-skirt and put it on, zipped it up, and liked the way it hugged her hips and ass. She added a stretch-to-fit yellow top that created a sexy second-skin look, and left her belly bare, showing about three inches of tanned skin from the bottom of the top to the top of her skirt.
Tracey put on a pair of red tennis shoes. Then she added red lipstick and a little blush to her cheeks.
Tracey looked gorgeous, and when Eugene called for her, his eyes bugged out.
They got in his pick-up truck and headed for the fair.
"Boy, you look good, Tracey," Eugene said.
"Yeah?"
"Yes!"
He moved his hand across the seat and felt her leg, just below the hem of her skirt.
"Don't, Eugene!"
"I can't help it, look, you got me hard," he said.
Tracey looked over and saw a big spike in his jeans. His cock had erected and was punching upward.
"Jeez, Eugene!"
"Play with it," he said.
"No, not in the truck like this."
"Come on!"
"You said you were gonna give me lots of money to spend at the fair."
"How much?"
"Here," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a twenty and a ten. "Thirty dollars!"
Tracey took the money, put it in her little white purse, and laid it back on the seat.
"Look," Eugene said, unzipping his fly. "See how hard it gets around you."
Tracey reached over and clutched his cock. "You like it when I play with your cock, don't you, Eugene?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Want me to pump on this hard thing?"
"Please!"
"No, not in the truck."
She squeezed though. She liked the warm feel of the erection in her hand. Tracey pumped down, then up.
"That's enough, Eugene," she said. "Look, we're almost at the fairgrounds. Put that thing away."
Eugene locked up his hard cock.
They got out of the truck and Eugene paid their way into the fair.
"I'm gonna pay for everything," Eugene said, slipping his arm around Tracey's little waist. His hand moved lower and his fingers crept over the curve of her ass.
"Don't, Eugene! Not here, with people around!" Tracey gasped.
"I'm so damn horny for you!"
"Horny?"
"Hot for you..."
"Oh, look. I want some cotton candy," Tracey said, seeing the bright white and red stand.
They went up and Eugene bought her a big glob of pink cotton candy on a stick. Tracey licked and bit on the gooey candy as they walked, which inflamed Eugene and made him hotter for her.
"Oh, Tracey!" he gasped, and pulled her in behind a tent, back into the dark shadows of the midway.
"Eugene!" Tracey protested.
He grabbed a handful of cotton candy.
"Put this in your panties."
"Huh?"
"Put it in your panties, then later I'll eat it."
"Eugene, I swear, you are crazy."
"Come an, you know I'll give you something later."
"In my pants?" she asked. "Yeah!"
"Well, okay. All right," Tracey said.
She hiked up her little red skirt over her pink panties.
"Gimmie it," she said.
Tracey took a gob of cotton candy from Eugene. She slipped it down into the crotch of her panties.
"There," she said, and pulled her skirt down.
"I'll tell you when I'm hungry for it!" he whispered, his hand reaching out, feeling her ass.
"Stop that! Let's go on some rides and stuff," Tracey said.
Eugene took her back onto the midway and the mustard smell of the carnival night, the clank and clang of the ferris wheel, the churning whirl of the merry-go-round, the hum of the midway lights.
"God, I can't believe I'm walking around with cotton candy in my panties!" Tracey whispered.
"I can't wait to eat it," Eugene said.
"Oh, look!" Tracey cried. "Let's go on that!"
It was a huge spinning machine with big long spokes sticking out and little torpedo-like cars on the end. Eugene bought tickets and they got in the metal car, puffing the top over them, huddling together, and fastening their seat belts. The spoke began turning, slow at first, then faster and faster.
Eugene was suddenly down on the floor of the little spaceship, down on his knees. He lifted Tracey's red skirt up her legs. She was holding onto the crossbar for ail she was worth, as the ship whirled up, down, and around and around. Eugene dipped into her panties, took out the cotton candy, and chomped it.
"Eugene, stop that now!"
He yanked her panties down around her ankles, took them off, and moved between her legs. He licked along her smooth thighs.
"Stop!" Tracey yelled, holding on.
He kissed her cunt.
"Wheeeee! Oh, whew!" Tracey hollered.
She had never had anyone kiss her pussy before, and now Eugene started licking her sweet, candy-delicious cunt. He lapped like a thirsty cow at her pussy.
"Oh, jeez!" Tracey panted, holding on for dear life to the crossbar. Her legs were spread wide.
Eugene was on his knees. He lifted her ass off the seat, cupped her asscheeks, and feasted on her cunt, licking, sucking, chewing, and munching at it.
"Ooooowwwweeeee!" Tracey shouted. "Oh, Eugene!"
"Mmmmm!" he murmured.
"Oh, damn you, Eugene!" Tracey whimpered, looking down, watching him eat her cunt and feeling the pull in her tummy each time the spaceship twirled up high, then swooped down low.
Never had darling Tracey ever felt anything so marvelous, so delightfully divine. Eugene's slurping, licking, and sucking drove her wild with ecstasy as she sat spread-legged in the twirling little spaceship.
He ate like a wild man at her crotch, lapping his wiggling tongue at her cunt. He slicked up and down her juicy, candy-sweet pussy.
"Oh, Eugene, you bad boy!" Tracey cried.
Then she felt her orgasm. The car knifed downward, and she cried. It was the most sensational thing she had ever experienced. Her climax shuddered her. She shook all over. She held on tightly, and Eugene brought her to the height of sexual satisfaction.
"Wheee, ahhh, ohhhh, ooooooh!" she squealed. "You dirty guy!"
Eugene made her shiver over and over with the incredible feelings of orgasm.
Then the car, the spaceship, started to slow down as the machine came to a stop. Eugene quickly pulled Tracey's pink panties back up her legs and sat down in the seat beside her. She tugged her skirt down, and the ride stopped.
They got off the ride.
"I never said you could do that to me," Tracey said.
They walked down the midway.
"But you liked it, didn't you?"
"But you just did it. You didn't even ask me."
He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "Here, that's for letting me suck you."
"Well, all right then," Tracey said, taking the money, still trembling.
They went to a booth and Eugene tried to knock over a stack of bottles for a prize.
"This is a fixed deal," he said. "The top bottles have lead in them, and they're tough to knock off the platform."
The carny barker said: "One throw for a quarter, two throws for fifty cents, three throws for a buck. If you spend a buck, and get all the bottles off the platform, you can win a radio, or a tape recorder. For fifty cents a big panda." Eugene gave the man a dollar. He threw and knocked three bottles off the board. The two top ones fell to the platform. His second throw got one of them, and his third, a mean fast-ball, knocked off the final one.
"Winner, big winner," the barker screeched. "Whaddya want?"
"Whatcha want, Tracey?" Eugene asked. She looked over the radios and tapes. She liked a small hand-sized tape recorder, and pointed to it. The corny took it off the shelf and gave it to her. She put it in her purse.
"That was good, Eugene. You really knew how to do that."
Then they went on three more rides, threw some darts, and bought two big foot-long hotdogs. They walked out of the midway toward the animal barns.
Eugene pulled Tracey into a small alley, then took her into one of the barns.
"I wanna feel your pussy!" he whispered.
"Not here," Tracey said.
"I won a tape recorder for you, didn't I?"
"Well, okay then, but I'm not done with my hotdog yet."
Eugene lifted her little red skirt, pulling it high on her juicy hips, up over her pink panties. He plunged his hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy through her panties.
"I'm gonna take your panties down!" he whispered.
"What if someone comes?"
"It'll only be me," Eugene said.
They were in a dark, shady, musty corner of the cow barn. The smell of hay and manure was pungent in the air. Eugene rubbed her pussy with one hand and caressed her ass with the other.
"Okay, take 'em down for a minute them," Tracey said, biting into her hotdog.
Eugene knelt down and tugged her pink panties down around her knees. Then he spun her around and started raining tiny kisses on the sweet marble smoothness of her ass.
"What are you doing, Eugene?" Tracey asked, her mouth full of hotdog, bun and mustard.
He clutched her ass cheeks, pinched his fingers into the pliant lushness, and spread them flaring his tongue like a torch up and down the crack of Tracey's ass.
"Eugene!"
He lapped up and down the furry valley, and Tracey trembled with the delight that his tongue sent through her. She was again having a new experience, and a good one, too.
"Uhhhhh, oooooh!" Tracey cried. "My ass!"
Eugene's tongue moved up and down, up and down, up and down, then whirled like a spinning top at Tracey's tight asshole.
"Ahhhhh! Oh, jeez!" she gasped.
He had her asscheeks spread, pulling them apart, his face mashing into her marvelous, young ass, his tongue twirling on her asshole. Tracey shuddered, clutching at the barn wall for balance, setting her legs wider apart.
"You're licking my shitter, Eugene... oh wow!" she whispered. "Right here in this barn!"
She was hot as a firecracker, sizzling like the burning wick. Eugene worked hard to give her a real good rim-job and he was succeeding in grand style.
Tracey still held the foot-long hotdog, of which she had taken only one bite. Her cunt itched for action. She pulled the hotdog from the bun. It was all lathered with thick yellow mustard. She brought it down and stuck it in her pussy and started fucking herself with the slick hotdog.
The bun fell to the floor between her legs. Eugene was so intense about applying his fabulous tongue to her asshole that he didn't notice that Tracey was fucking her cunt with the long, rubbery hotdog.
"Ah, boy! Whewwwww, jeez." Tracey cried again and again, as Eugene's wild tongue flittered and fluttered an her shithole.
Tracey had a good grip on one end of the long weenie, and she slicked it in and out of her pussy. It felt real good. She liked Eugene's tongue whirling on her asshole, and she loved the weenie fucking in and out of her pussy.
"Oh, Eugene, you are really lickin' my ass!" she whimpered, fucking the weenie in and out of her cunt. Then the first tingle of satisfaction gripped her. She shuddered violently and stiffened. Eugene knew she was going to cum. He moved his tongue in a furious spiral at her little asshole.
"Ah, ooof!" Tracey gasped. "Ah, shit! Eugene!"
Then she came.
Sweet vibrating ecstasy spread through her fine, young body. She twittered and shivered with pure delight as Eugene licked her, and she fucked the weenie in and out of her pussy.
Eugene finally turned her around. Tracey fell back against the wall. The weenie stuck out from her pussy. He began to nibble the pussyjuice-soaked hotdog, biting down on it, eating it away until he had eaten down to her cunt. Then he opened his mouth, sucked her cunt, and began nibbling.
"You dirty guy! You're chewin' my cunt!" Tracey whispered, standing over him.
She reached under her sweater and cupped her big tits, squeezing them, playing with them as she looked down at Eugene gobbling her cunt.
It didn't take long for little Tracey to cum again. The dampness of the barn, the forbidden act of Eugene on his knees in the dirt, eating away the weenie, then chewing her mustard sweet pussy, sent her trembling again, sent her over the edge.
She shook and tingled all over as the tickle of her climax gripped her. She pushed down on his shoulders for balance, bending over at the waist, enjoying the pureness of her orgasm.
Finally Eugene got up. His mouth had mustard on it.
Tracey leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath.
"How did you like that?" Eugene asked.
"You're a naughty guy, Eugene!" she whispered.
"Did you like it when I tickled your ass with my tongue."
"I guess."
"Come on, you liked it didn't you?"
"Yeah, I loved it Eugene," she said. Tracey pulled her panties back on, slipping her little red dress into place, and they walked out of the barn, back onto the midway, to the glittering glow of the fair, to have some more fun.
Chapter Five
Back out on the midway, Eugene treated Tracey to more rides, more games, and another foot-long hotdog. He won her a panda bear throwing darts, a kewpie doll tossing rings, and some trinkets and a charm bracelet with a scoop machine.
Then they called it a night and went back to the pick-up. They sat in the glow of the midway, loading all the prizes into the pick-up truck.
Eugene turned to Tracey on the seat, pulled her close, put his arm around her, and asked, "Have a good time?"
"Yeah, thanks, Eugene, that was fun."
"And I kept all my promises, too. Didn't I?"
"How about a little kiss then?"
"Okay," Tracey said. He pressed her to him, got his hands between them and squeezed her tits, then ran one hand over her smooth leg below the hem of her skirt. Their mouths were hot in a wet kiss.
Eugene took one of her hands and placed it on his crotch. Tracey felt the hard bulge. She palmed the spike in his pants.
"I want you to take it out," he said.
"No, not here."
"Go on, take it out and play with it."
"Uh -- uh, not now."
"Look damnit, I gave you lots of money, won all those things for you, and got you a real nice tape recorder!"
"But I let you do that stuff in the barn, Eugene."
"Okay, I'll give you twenty more if you'll take my prick out and play with it."
"Well... I don't know. Should I?"
"Yeah, come on."
Eugene unzipped his fly and took his cock out. His prick was as hard as a typewriter roller. Tracey grasped it in her cute hand. She squeezed, then pumped the skin up and down.
"Want me to beat you off, Eugene?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah, please!" he moaned, sliding down on the seat of the pick-up. He unbuttoned his jeans and took them down around his ankles. His cock stuck up like a hammer.
Tracey got a good grip and began jerking. "You like this, don't you?"
"Yes!"
"When I beat it like this, huh?"
"You bet!"
"It's real hard again, Eugene."
"I know!"
She stroked him very slowly, and she watched the action of her hand in the glimmer of light from the fair, the shimmering colors that danced around the truck.
"Oh, that feels good, Tracey!" Eugene whispered.
Tracey reached over with her other hand and cupped his balls. They were splayed out on the edge of the seat. She tickled them and squeezed them tightly.
"Oooooh," he moaned.
Her hand moved a bit faster. "Want me to go faster, Eugene?"
"No, just like that for a minute!"
"Okay, just like this, real slow and stuff, huh?"
"Yeah!"
"You like when I jerk on your cock, Eugene, don't you?"
"Oh, yes!"
"That was real naughty what you did in that barn," Tracey said. "Lickin' at my ass like that."
Her hand picked up speed. "You liked it though!"
"It sure was different," Tracey said, hammering harder on his prick.
"Oh, honey!" he groaned.
"I'm goin' faster now, Eugene."
"Yeah, jerk it for me, Tracey! Faster!"
"Like this? Real fast?" she asked, pounding her little hand in a furious rhythm, up and down, up and down, up and down, her thumb sticking out.
His cock frothed and spit out a gob of cum. "Look, it's bubblin' and stuff!" Tracey whispered.
"I know!"
Creamy cum drooled down the stalk of his cock and onto her jerking hand, over her knuckles. His whole prick became lathered with the constant seepage of jizz from his bulging prickhead.
"Oooooh, Eugene, it's squirting all over!"
"Faster, Tracey!"
She hammered hard now. "You gonna shoot off, Eugene?"
"Yeah!"
"Does this feel good?"
"You know it does, Tracey! Just like that, baby! Oh, yeah, jack me off you sweet little sonofabitch!"
She drubbed his big hard prick, hammering down fast and tough, tickling his balls. The cockhead expanded, then Eugene stiffened and shot out a stream of jism that splashed up high in the air and came splattering down all over the seat, all over his thighs, with some of the goo slashing onto Tracey's little red skin.
"Shoot more, Eugene! I'm jerkin' you so you can squirt and feel good, huh?"
"You know it!" Eugene cried, stiff as a board while Tracey clobbered his cock with her jacking hand. Her fingers were slick and gooey with his cum. Her hand slicked up and down now in a goopy lather.
"Ooooooh, whoooo!" he sighed as Tracey finally relaxed her grip, letting go of his cum soaked prick.
"I want you to suck it!" Eugene whispered.
"What?"
"Suck me!"
"No, I've sever done that before."
"Please... I'm still hot! Look, I'm still hard!"
"You're always hard, Eugene."
"Please kiss and suck on it!"
"No, it's too wet."
"Lick it off?"
"Uh-uh."
"I'll give you some more money, Tracey!"
"You will, huh?"
"Yeah... just do it!"
"Well, okay, I'll kiss your cock then," she said, sliding down on the seat of the truck, bending over and puckering her lips near his gooey pricktip. She kissed and pecked.
"Oh, ahhhh, mmmmmm!" Eugene groaned with delight. "Lick my balls too!"
Tracey licked down the stalk of his cock and into the nestle of his balls, her tongue hot and wet on his quivering balls. Eugene moaned in pleasure as she licked.
"Oh, honey!" he gasped. "That's so damn good!"
She licked up the cock stalk and encircled her sweet, red lips around the tip, then started sucking. Her head bobbed up and down lightly. Her lips were locked on his cock. Her cheeks were puffed, then they caved in as she slid down on him.
"It's so slick and big, and so hard," Tracey groaned, coming up for air.
"More! Do it more!"
She grasped his cock in her hand and got a grip down at the base, kissing the top again, licking her darling tongue all over his beet-red cockhead. Then she sealed her lips around it, sucked down, and began bobbing. Her ponytail jerked up and down. Eugene reached for it and petted it, stroking her shiny hair as she gave him a beautiful blow-job.
He sighed in ecstasy as she worked him over. Tracey liked the taste of his cum, the feel of the big prick in her mouth, and she sucked harder and faster, then took his cock out of her mouth and began jerking the tip on her tongue.
"Ah, yeah, like that!" Eugene panted, then humped his ass off the seat.
He shot a huge load at Tracey's tongue. The hot cum splashed on her lips and chin, and slid down her mouth. She swallowed a hot splash and kept jerking his prick, the cockhead splashing cum on her wiggling tongue.
"Ah, ohhhhh, whew!" Eugene moaned. "You do that so good, so damn goooood, Tracey!"
"Mmmmmm!" Tracey groaned, licking at the spurting pricktip. "You're really shootin' in my mouth and all over my face, Eugene!"
"I know, and I love it! Feels so good! So good, honey!"
Tracey licked all over his cock, then slicked her tongue down to the base and tickled his balls as Eugene shot out a final splat of jizz.
"That was so good!" he gasped, falling back on the seat.
Tracey got up, her mouth dripping, her chin covered with Eugene's cum. She pulled a hanky from her purse and wiped off the dripping jism.
"Boy, Eugene, you've really taught me a lot today, haven't you?"
"And I've spent a lot of money too!" he whispered.
"It was worth it though, huh?"
"Oh, yes!" he groaned. "Oh, yes, Tracey!"
Chapter Six
Tracey went out for the cheerleading squad at school and made it easily. She had the looks, and she had all the moves. She was one of six pretty young girls who became cheerleaders, and she was excited about the first game that was scheduled.
She put on her uniform at home, deciding to wear it at school, which was an option given the cheerleaders on the day of a game.
Tracey slipped into the little white skirt that had dark blue pants. She looked in the mirror and was gleefully happy that it was so incredibly short that she could show off her pretty legs. Then she added a long-sleeved blue sweater, and over that she fastened on a sleeveless light-blue vest. Her knee socks were dark blue. Finally, she put on her blue and white tennis shoes.
She looked in the mirror, then remembered that she hadn't put on his bloomers yet. She picked up the slick, bright royal-blue bloomers and wiggled into them, pulled them up in her crotch, made sure they cradled her ass just so, then decided she was ready.
At school, she received hot stares from the boys. She swayed down the hall, her little skirt swirling on her beautiful legs.
In history class, Mr. Dalton, the teacher, really gave her some lewd looks. She snuggled in her desk and let him have a good show of her legs, her knee socks, and once, when she crossed her legs, she saw him glance up her skirt.
Mr. Dalton was tall. He must be six-four, Tracey thought as she watched him lecture. He wore a gray suit, a three-piece outfit that fit him tightly. He looked as though he was about forty-five.
She wondered if she could get an A from him like she did from Mr. Palmer. After class, Tracey lingered as she picked up her books. Mr. Dalton stared at her. She turned and started to leave.
"You look very cute today," he said.
"I thought I looked more than cute," Tracey said.
"Well, you do indeed!"
"I thought I looked sexy!"
"Indeed! Indeed you do, my dear!"
"I saw you look up my skirt, Mr. Dalton."
"Well -- ah -- er I couldn't help..."
"That's okay. I liked it!"
"You did?"
"I'd like an A in this class, sir," Tracey said.
"You would, huh?"
"Yes... how about this?" she asked, and pulled her skirt up on her waist, letting the wide-eyed teacher look at her bright-blue bloomers.
"Oh, my!" he whispered.
"Like?" she asked, turning completely round.
"Oh, yes! What a perfectly beautiful..."
"Ass?"
"Yes, yes, beautiful, full, round ass!" he gasped.
"So, wanna feel it??"
She went to him, hoisted her skirt again, turned around, and let him run his hand over the sweet, slick curve of her wonderful, tight ass.
"Oh, God!" he whimpered, his fingers searching her slick bloomers. "Oh, my..."
"Feel good, sir?"
"Excellent!" he moaned, his hand cupping her asscheeks.
Tracey held her cheerleading skirt high as Mr. Dalton fumbled his eager hand over the splendid curve of her ravishing ass, feeling her billowing ass cheeks, the tantalizing slope of her ass.
"Are you gonna give me an A, sir?" Mr. Dalton had never been so brazenly spoken to in all his years of teaching. This was such a beautiful, buxom, incredibly sexy young girl -- what could he do?
"Yes, yes, an A for you, Tracey, if I can take these panties down! If I can have more than just a feel," he said, surprised at his bargaining position.
"Sure!" she whispered.
He tugged the bloomers over the tingling shiver of Tracey's fine ass. He got them down on her thighs. Her ass stuck out blatantly, balmy, bald, smooth, and perfect. He roamed his hands over her exciting nakedness.
"Oh, my dear, such a dandy ass! Divine!" She liked the touch of his hands as he caressed her, as he cupped her ass cheeks, squeezed, fondled.
"You can kiss it if you wanna, sir!" Tracey whispered.
"Oh, oh, ohhhh!" he panted, never having even thought about that. Suddenly he was on his naughty knees behind the darling schoolgirl, raining tiny, hot kisses all over her scrumptious ass. His tongue flicked out and he lapped up and down her ass crack.
"Ahhhh, yeah, like that, Mr. Dalton!" Tracey groaned. "That's good!"
His slobbering, wild tongue creased Tracey's crack and sent thrilling feelings of satisfaction shimmering and slivering through her fine young body. She remembered how Eugene, her naughty cousin, had introduced her to ass licking, how she had felt so good in that barn, so she bent over, put her hands on her knees, and waved her exquisite ass at the lapping teacher.
Mr. Dalton felt honored, and was delighted that this gorgeous student was inclined to take such liberties. And she only wants an A, he thought.
He whipped her around. "I wanna see your pussy, Tracey!"
He was staring right between her golden legs.
"Oh," he said. "It's a pretty pussy."
"Is it?" Tracey asked, thrusting her lovely hips outward, pushing her pussy toward his face.
"Yes, it's really a beautiful cunt!" he whimpered, his hands crawling slowly behind her. He grabbed the cheeks of her ass, pinching in on the smooth curves.
Tracey held her skirt high, swaying above Mr. Dalton. He moved in on her cunt. He stuck out his tongue and flapped, it into the delicious brown nest.
"Phew! Wow!" Tracey whispered. She lifted her cheerleading skirt higher, pulling it up so she could look down and watch her teacher lick his tongue over and around her twitching pussy.
"Don't forget, you're gonna give me an A, right?" Tracey asked, wobbling her hips in an obscene roll at Mr. Dalton's slapping tongue.
"Mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm!" he mumbled, wiggling his tongue at her cunt.
"I'd let you fuck me if you paid me!" Tracey whispered.
"Huh? Well..." Mr. Dalton stuttered, moving way from her pussy. "Pay you? How much?"
"It'd have to be a lot," Tracey said. "I don't have any money with me. Well, only fifty dollars."
"You can give me that, then you can pay me more later," Tracey said.
"Oh, I really would like to fuck you, darling, sweet dear, my young baby," Mr. Dalton said, fucking his thick, wet tongue into her pussy.
"Well, okay then... let's go it. Let's fuck, sir!"
He stood up. His cock bulged out his pants. He threw off his coat and unbuttoned his vest.
He unloosened his tie, took off his shirt, and pulled down his pants. He didn't wear shorts and his cock shot up like a cannon -- a full eleven inches.
"Wow, sir!" Tracey gasped.
"I'm ready!" he panted.
"I can see that," she said, marveling at the length and thickness of his big cock.
Mr. Dalton had a handsome hard-on, a splendid cock that already had heaps of frothing cream bubbling from the head. The cockstalk was smooth, like shiny agate, and thick -- round as his wrist. His balls hung between his legs like a couple of lemons. His lean, tall body had been hardened by weight-lifting.
"Jeez, sir. That cock must be the biggest in the world," Tracey said, watching the swelling prick heave and thump. "I know I said we could fuck, but that thing is too big, I think."
"You've never had a big cock, Tracey?" Mr. Dalton asked.
"No, but I fucked myself with a foot-long weenie the other night at the fair -- but it was thin, and then I didn't put it all the way in, either."
"A foot-long weenie!" Mr. Dalton exclaimed, his admiration for the brazen schoolgirl leaping to unimaginable heights.
Tracey still stood with her skirt raised, her eyes wide in amazement at Mr. Dalton's huge prick.
"I could lick it and give you a good handjob, though," Tracey said.
He handed her fifty dollars.
"I'll have more for you tomorrow if you'll come to my office late in the afternoon," he said, then took Tracey into his arms, pressed her to him, his cock slapping into the pleats of her cheerleading skirt.
His hands fondled the cheeks of her ass as he kissed her in a feverish passion, his tongue swirling deep into her delicious, sucking mouth.
"You are something special!" he whimpered, breaking the kiss, his hands trembling, his cock throbbing against Tracey.
She clutched the big hard-on, got a grip on the giant stalk and squeezed.
"Wheeeeewwwww!" she gasped.
Mr. Dalton unbuttoned the vest of her outfit, let it flap open, then pulled her sweater up over her tits.
"Oh my!" he gasped. "Such fabulous tits. They don't just point straight out, they lift up!"
Then he dipped his hand clown and rubbed her pussy. Tracey grabbed his cock with both hands, and they kissed again.
"Lemme show you something!" he whispered. "Get up on my desk and lie down on your belly."
Tracey did as he asked. He moved in, pulled her legs into a wide vee off the desk, got between them, and pressed his prick into the crack of her ass.
"I'll give you a weenie-fuck," Mr. Dalton said. "I'll put my cock in your hot, buttered bun."
Tracey swayed gently on the desk, squeezing her asscheeks tight on the throbbing cock. He began a fuck-stroke, moving in and out, his cock sliding back and forth between her asscheeks. He humped good and fast.
"Wow!" Tracey whispered.
"You like when I fuck your ass like this?" he asked.
"Yeah!" she gasped.
"We'll do this for a minute, then you can be real sexy and I'll jack-off at you."
"Ooooooh," Tracey groaned. "Sure! Roll over," he said, pulling back. Tracey rolled over onto her back, wiggled onto the desk, cocked her legs at the knees, spread them wide, and looked up at Mr. Dalton.
"Yeah, like that, baby," he said, grabbing his cock, pumping the big stalk. "Be sexy for me, honey-doll!"
Tracey undulated her hips up off the desk, arching a striking pose, lifting her ass up, and rolling her pussy at him.
He pumped faster.
"Phew, jeez, sir! That looks good!" she cried, eyeing his stroke. "Wow! Go faster!"
"Be sexy then," he said.
"You dirty prick pumper!" she gasped, running her hand down between her legs, smoothing the palm over her pussy, rubbing her crotch.
"Yeah, yeah!" Mr. Dalton whimpered, fucking his fist.
"Whee, you do that so hot and dirty, sir! You're jerking your cock to me, aren't you?"
"Yes!"
"Oh, shit, sir!" Tracey cried, delighted with his actions. His remarkable cock, his stupendous hard-on. "Jerk on that cock, sir, jerk it!"
He did, and Tracey loved it.
She had her bloomers off now, holding them sexily in one hand, dangling them off the desk, spreading her legs obscenely for Mr. Dalton. Her sweater was up over her huge tits.
"You like to see me do this?" he asked.
"Oh boy! Yeah!"
His jerking made her hot, elated her. It give her a rapturous tingle. He beat his prick, and Tracey humped off the desk. She stuck a finger into her cunt and began fucking herself.
"Yeah, do that!" he urged.
Tracey had a sexy smile on her face, her mouth open, her tongue hot on her cherry-red lips. She rolled her hips off the desk, fucking her finger in the elated heat of passion.
Mr. Dalton pumped hot and hard now. His big prick billowed. It was so thick, so massive, so teeming. Tracey watched as she fingered her cunt.
"Yes, like that, Mr. Dalton! Masturbate that big cock, really go! Lemme see you jack, sir!" He was better than she'd ever seen. He stood at the edge of the desk. Tracey lay on her back, her legs wide, her inverted pleats up on her belly, her bloomers still dangling from one hand.
Then he got it. A riptide of cum shot out of his big prick. A high tide of jism arched up over the desk and began splashing down on Tracey's legs, belly, knees, and pussy. A huge glob of jizz hit her right between the legs. She jerked her finger faster. He pumped his cock harder. They were two lovers lost in the ecstasy of their forbidden but beautiful love.
His hand was all wet with cum. He kept shooting. A happy spill of slopping slush drenched the lovely cheerleader as she lay fingerfucking herself, her eyes hot on the hand-job Mr. Dalton was giving himself.
"Ah, yeah! Shoot-off, sir! That's it, shoot it all off!" Tracey groaned.
"I am!"
"Oh, yeah. Jerk, jerk, jerk, that big cock for me! Jerk off to me!"
A torrent of cum splashed all over her tits as the tinge of satisfaction hit her.
"Oh, goody!" Tracey cried. "Oooooh!" Mr. Dalton pumped his pleasure, and Tracey shuddered in a hot backfire of delight, watching his cock squirt, watching his hand jerk.
Chapter Seven
Tracey was really hot after her exciting experience with Mr. Dalton, the way he had pumped off his enormous prick just to her, how his cock exploded, the lusty arch of his creamy load as it flew high through the air and showered her.
She went to the bathroom and used paper towels to clean the cum from her body, her skirt and her tits. She tried to get herself back together for the game. She wanted to be good at cheerleading.
Tracey put her hair into double ponytails, and they enhanced the round cameo of her beautiful face. She applied a thick red rouge to her cheeks, and glossed her precious lips with a cherry gloss. She straightened her short skirt, pulled her knee socks tight, and trotted to the football field.
Once she was out, performing with the girls to the heavy, brassy beat of the school band, she thought again about the way Mr. Dalton had whacked off to her.
The passion, the love, the complete captivation.
She bumped her hips to the right and to the left, exaggerating the movement. She spread her legs, set them apart as far as they would go, and did a front-dip, squatting down, knees cocked, skirt up.
She swayed left, swayed right, legs out, knees cocked, her skirt up.
"Wow," she said in a whisper. "I'm gettin' hot."
Indeed she was. Her royal blue bloomers gooshed with the flood of cuntjuice that seeped into the slick satin.
Tracey lifted high, her ass arched. A big, hot view of her ass. Her bloomers. She swayed right and left, wiggling her ass, working it with gusto, relishing the hot stares she was receiving from the boys and men seated in the bleachers.
The band played.
Tracey danced.
Her cunt creamed. She was a sex-starved darling. She wanted to fuck.
"I wanna screw!" she whispered to herself, a smile on her lips for the stands. "I wanna lay it down! I wanna make it! I wanna fuck! I wanna see someone jack-off!"
It thrilled her to show off like this. She loved seeing the reaction of the men and boys. She moved two wide steps forward, two back, put her hands on her hips, and did a set of high kicks, giving the bleachers a hot look at the squishy pull of her bloomers.
"Mmmmm, wow, look at 'em look at me," she whispered, still smiling, kicking her legs up higher than any of the other girls, so that a man in the top row, with a camera and telescopic lens, could take a juicy picture of her crotch.
She saw him up there, focusing on her, his camera pointing at her. Her legs kicked. He clicked.
"He's gonna jerk himself while he looks at those pictures. I just know he will," Tracey said to herself.
She came down, bent over, put her knowing hands on her knees, and swished them back and forth. Her huge tits splashed full and hot, pushing like two balloons of water against bet vest.
Tracey had her neck craned up, her face forward, and she moved her ass around and around. She looked straight up at the man with the camera. Her cunt quivered. She wanted to play with a good hard prick. She was one girl who appreciated a man who could sit and take pictures of her so blatantly. She rewarded him for his admiration. She put on an explosive show each time the thrilling high school cheerleaders took to the field to boogie with the band.
After the game, the excitement of the routines, the action, Tracey and the other girls were gathering their pom-poms, getting ready to leave the field, when the man with the camera came down.
Amid all the noise, the excitement of a win, he asked if he could take a picture of Tracey.
"Just me?" she asked.
"Uh-huh."
"Well, okay," she said, put one hand on her hip, threw her hip out, then stuck her arm straight forward in a rah-rah position. The man took several pictures.
"Thank you," he said.
Tracey saw the hard-on that bulged in his slacks. He was a man in his forties, a man who appreciated youthful beauty. He was polite, handsome, tall, and there was something magnetic about him.
"Okay," Tracey said.
"You were fantastic today," he said, putting his camera in a bag.
"Thank you."
"I shall come see you the next game here," he said, then turned and left.
"Hope you like all those pictures you took of me," Tracey yelled after him in a teasing voice.
He looked over his shoulder and smiled.
Tracey smiled back. She just loved being a cheerleader.
As she walked through the parking lot to the school, she was astonished to find Eugene sitting on the tender of his red pick-up.
"Hi," he said.
"Eeek! Eugene! What are you doing here," Tracey asked, putting on a little for him.
"Came to see you."
"I thought you were in college."
"I drove five hours to get here."
"I'm busy! I'm goin' with some of the girls to the pizza parlor!"
The girls were now standing in a group at the edge of the parking lot, waiting for Tracey.
"Tell 'em you'll meet 'em later," Eugene said.
"No!"
"Come on. I gotta see you."
"No you don't," she said. "Look, I brought some money. Here. How's this?" He pulled just the tip of a hundred from his pocket.
"Huh," Tracey said. "A hundred dollars?"
"Uh, yup."
"Well, okay then. You can see me for a little while. But just a little while," Tracey said. She yelled to the other cheerleaders and told them to go without her.
She walked to the car, leaned in close to Eugene, and said: "And if you come sneaking around here again with a hard-on, don't you dare ever tell any of those girls you're my cousin, got it?"
He nodded.
"So... here am I," Tracey said.
"Get in," Eugene said.
She jumped into the seat of the pick-up as he held the door open. He went around and climbed in.
"I can't be too long, Eugene. Whaddya want?"
He gunned the truck and drove out.
"Where we goin', Eugene? I told you, not too long."
"Out of here, somewhere private."
His hand slipped over the seat. He moved his fingers over her smooth thigh. He dipped under her pleated skirt.
"No, stop! Not in here," Tracey said, pulling away.
"Come on, lemme feel," Eugene said. "Uh-uh."
"You know what I want, don't you?"
"You probably wanna fuck me," Tracey said, leaning against the door, her legs crossed, her big tits pushing provocatively against her light-blue vest.
Her dark pleated skirt swirled on her legs, high up, affording Eugene lots of nice thigh.
"Yeah, I wanna fuck and do lots of things," he said.
"Well, I can't."
"Yes, yes you can, Tracey."
"No, you're my cousin, Eugene."
"So?"
"Well, I won't do anything."
"Ah, come on. I drove all the way up here and stuff."
"Here," he said, and pulled out his money. He handed it over. Tracey took it and examined the funny picture of Ben Franklin on the front. Then she put it in her purse.
"Pull your skirt up," he said.
"Like this?" Tracey asked, her chin low, a grin on her face. She kept her legs crossed on the seat and biked her cheerleading skirt up on her waist.
"Uncock your legs," Eugene said. "Oh, so you wanna see up my legs, huh, Eugene?"
"Yeah!"
"You got a big hard-on already!" Tracey whispered, a gleam in her eyes, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"I know."
"Uncross my legs like this?" she asked, lifting her crossed leg high, holding it up, giving Eugene a hot look at the crotch of her bright blue bloomers.
"Yeah!" he whispered huskily.
"And then pull my legs apart, like this?" she asked, throwing one leg up on the seat, the other planted on the floor of the truck. She leaned back, sliding down against the door.
"Oh, Tracey!" he gasped, unzipping his fly, yanking out his hot cock.
"Eugene! You shouldn't take your cock out like that," Tracey said, pointing a finger at him and wagging it.
"Yes, I should!"
"Turn here, Eugene, yeah, right here."
Eugene turned onto a side street.
"So what do you want me to do?" Tracey asked.
"Play with my cock!"
"Play with it like this?" she asked, moving over oh the seat, fluttering her fingers along his rigid prick.
"Yes!"
"Boy, you got a good hard-on here, Eugene."
"For you!"
He reached over and stuck his hand between her legs, dug his itchy, young fingers into the satin softness of her crotch.
"You're gonna feel my pussy, aren't you?"
"Yeah!" he gasped, pressing his fingertips into her cunt.
Tracey grasped his cock. She pumped it up and down. Eugene got his hand into her pants. He slid his fingers into the naughty nest of cunthair. She jerked his cock. Her hand flared. Eugene fingered into her pussy.
"Turn right here, Eugene," Tracey said, and bent over. She licked her tongue over the head of his hard cock.
He turned, fingerfucking her, his hand into the crotch of her bloomers.
"This is what you wanted!" she whispered sexily, her hand blazing on his cock. "You wanted me to give you a good hand-job, didn't you?"
"Yes!" he cried.
"That's what I'm doing, Eugene. I'm beatin' your meat for you!" she whispered, almost like a cheer as her hand hammered Eugene's prick. "Boy, your cock is getting big, Eugene. It's really bulging up here."
Then Eugene shot his wad. He sprayed the dash. Tracey jerked his hard cock with a speed that sent Eugene into a new dimension of pleasure. The creamy shower drenched the speedometer, splattered on the brakes. He shot off all over the truck, and Tracey didn't let up until she had milked him dry, then pumped out one more gob.
His finger had stopped, but now he picked up the beat. Tracey leaned back, thumbed her bloomers, pulled them down on her thigh, and watched him fuck his finger in and out of her sucking cunt.
"That-a-boy, Eugene, do it good for me!" she whispered, rolling her hips off the seat, humping up to his finger.
"Mmmmm!" he moaned.
"Now, Eugene, fuck my cunt with your finger now! Yeah, right -- now!"
Tracey came.
When she finished tingling, she said: "U-turn here, then turn left, Eugene."
They drove down the street and ended up back at the school.
"Stop here," Tracey said, and opened the door.
She looked back up at Eugene, his cock still out, still hard.
"Come see me again sometime," she said.
Chapter Eight
Tracey was dressing for school. She sat on the edge of her bed in her knee socks and saddle shoes. Her gorgeous, tight young body glistened in the sunlight that blazed through her window.
"I've got a golden hand," she said, looking at her right hand. "I got a hundred-dollar bill from Eugene just from pumping him off."
She yawned. Her huge tits heaved upward, pointed into the sunlight that filtered her room like layered smoke. She lay back on the bed, her legs off the side, spread in a vee, her feet flat on the floor. Her ponytail splayed out behind her head.
"I think I'll give myself a little fingerfuck!" she whispered, her hand shoving up her thigh.
She rubbed her brown hair, her soft pussy. "Ammmm, aaah, that's nice!" she moaned, wiggling her hips, humping her fine ass off the bed.
She flipped her finger up and down the slit of her cunt, then spread her pussylips. She fingered in on the clit, rubbing it with the tip of her middle finger.
"Whoof! Whew! Yeahhhh," she groaned. "I'm gonna think about Mr. Dalton's beautiful cock."
She envisioned his big, lewd prick. She saw the stiff stalk shining in her mind like polished brass.
Her finger tapped her clit, rolled it, and fucked down on it. She tingled all over. She could have cum right away, but she held off, slowed down, took the edge off, and thought about the teacher's giant cock again. Then she speeded up, her finger doing a hot dance on her bristling clit. She jacked her flitting clit.
"Oh, shit!" she moaned. "I'd like to just paw all over that big cock!"
Tracey looked good on the bed, her legs wide, her feet on the floor, nude except for her blue knee socks and her blue and white saddle shoes. She undulated her hips off the bed. Her hand played circles on her cunt.
"I've got a golden hand. I can make myself cum, and I can make men cum."
Then she felt it. That sweet tickle.
"Ah, fuck!" she cried.
Her body froze.
Her legs went wider, as far as they could go. Her hips stopped in mid-air. Her finger did a diddle dance on her clit.
"Oh, oh oh!" she gasped.
Tracey thrust her hips higher.
The tickle turned into a twister of passion and emotion that flipped through her like a hot shot of power. She twitched. Her head moved from side to side.
"Ahhhh, ah!" she gasped, then fell back on the bed panting.
She got up and started to think about what kind of parities she would wear to school. Maybe Mr. Palmer will want to steal them from me, like he did the last time, she thought.
She selected a pair of baby-blue panties from her drawer and slipped them on. They looked good. The nylon was tight. She could see her brown cunt through the panties.
"Ah, mmmmm, these are good," she said. Then she found a matching bra. She put on her white sweater. Her tits looked scrumptious. She added her tiny blue skirt, rouged her cheeks, applied some pink lip gloss, and went downstairs.
Tracey's mom was having a bottle of gin for breakfast. She looked up at the adorable schoolgirl.
"If your grandparents didn't have money you wouldn't be going to a private school."
"So what? Who cares?" Tracey asked, swinging open the fridge door, peering in at some moldy cheese.
"You think you're real cute, don't you?" her mother asked.
"Oh stuff it," Tracey said, and left the house. As she walked to school, she thought about all the money she had been getting. She had it hidden in a jar in her room. She had spent an hour counting it and writing in her diary the night before. She liked the turn in her life. She liked the excitement, the power she had over all the men who seemed so interested in her beauty and body.
She arrived early at school and walked up the stairs to the second floor. She was headed for Mr. Dalton's office, to get some more money he had promised her. She knocked on the office door.
"Come in."
"Hi," Tracey said.
"Oh, good morning," Mr. Dalton said, leaning back in his chair. "You are a nice sight for my eyes this early morning."
"Well... ah, you told me to stop by. You were gonna give me some more money, remember?"
"I certainly do," he said.
He pulled his wallet out and laid a fifty-dollar bill on the desk. Tracey grabbed it and put the money in her purse.
"You look nice today," he said.
"You think so, Mr. Dalton?" Tracey asked. "Uh-huh. Why don't we have a little fun before school starts?"
"What kinda fun, sir?"
His cock thumped wildly in his jeans. He wore a brown tweed jacket, white shirt, tie, and brown loafers. Tracey saw the curling bulge pulse against the tightness of the jeans.
"Say, you're real hot this morning, aren't you?"
"Yes!"
"You gonna want me to be dirty again for you?"
"Last time you said you would lick it and give me a hand-job!"
"I did, didn't I?"
Mr. Dalton unzipped his jeans and pulled them down around his ankles. His monster prick thrummed back, punched upward, and sprinkled a dew of cum from the piping-hot cockhead.
"Wow! It's so big," Tracey gasped, again amazed at the length of Mr. Dalton's handsome cock.
"Why don't you pull your skirt up for me, Tracey?"
"Like this?" she asked, moving to his chair, standing next to him, raising the little skirt up over her blue panties, letting the teacher have a good look.
"Yes, like that, dear," he said.
"You gonna pay me for this?" she asked.
"Indeed I will."
He reached out and stuck his hand between her legs, rubbing the crotch of her blue panties. Tracey cocked her knees outward, her legs apart, and humped her hips slowly against the push of Mr. Dalton's hand.
His other hand was busy jerking slowly on the stalk of his prick, giving it a slow rubbing stroke.
"Such a nice, little pussy!" he whispered, reaching up, dipping into her panties, sucking his hand down into her pussy.
"Whew, you are hot," Tracey said. She reached down and flubbed her fingertips over the gop of cum that caked the top of his cock.
"Lick it!" he commanded, taking his hand off his cock, removing his other hand from her panties.
"Okay," she said, and bent over at the waist. She clutched his cock at the base with one hand, putting her other hand on his cock, then ducking down to his prick. She spit on the tip, then flicked her tongue over the big pricktip, licking slowly, her tongue doing a nifty swirl.
"Ah, baby!" he panted.
She puckered her lips and kissed his prick, then she tongued down the long, shimmering cockstalk, flapping her darling tongue against his thick prick.
"Ah, darling!"
Tracey grabbed the huge erection with both hands. Her lips sealed over the pricktip. Her cheeks sucked in. She dipped down. Her head bobbed. Her ponytails swung forward. It looked good. His huge cock was deep in her mouth. She sucked hotly.
"Mmmm, ooooo, whewww, Tracey!" Mr. Dalton groaned. "You do that so damn good!"
Mr. Dalton reached out and stuck his hand up under her skirt. He lifted the pleats and slid his fingers into the soft, dewy goodness of her panties.
Tracey stood, bent at the waist, ducking down, her head bobbing. She looked beautiful with a prick in her mouth. Mr. Dalton watched her suck.
She held his huge thick prick with both hands as she dipped and dropped on the bulging stalk. Her pretty, red-rouged cheeks were gifted with caved-in dimples as she slurped on his ever hardening cock.
"You sweet cocksucker!" he whispered.
Tracey pulled up, took his cock out of her mouth, and swirled her spitty tongue over the glistening, creamy cockhead. She glanced up at her teacher and saw the pleasure on his handsome face.
"I'll give you a good hand-job now!" she moaned, moving her hand up his cock, gripping it, beginning a cute little jack-stroke.
Mr. Dalton slid down in his chair.
Tracey jerked with a good stroke. Her hand jacked body, quickly, with fast little jerks.
"AIX, sweetheart!" he cried, rubbing faster on the crotch of her panties. "Jerk me!"
"That's what I'm doin', sir."
"Oh, man, you do that good!" he groaned, leaning back, enjoying the thrill of Tracey's hot hand action.
The darling schoolgirl had developed a fabulous jack-stroke, a hot hand, and she was applying the magic to the lovesick teacher.
"I have to move over to the side here," she said, pulling away from his cunt-rubbing hand. "I'll stand beside you, because when you shoot, I don't want to get it all over my clothes. I have to go to class."
Mr. Dalton reached out and fanned his hand up under her skirt and palmed her ass. Tracey stood off the side, bent over, her hand hammering his big prick.
"What an ass!" the hot teacher huffed.
"Good ass, huh?" Tracey whispered, watching her hand.
"Best -- the best ass I've ever seen," he said.
"You like this hand-job I'm giving you?"
"Oh, darling, it's wonderful. Pump me faster, harder!"
"Okay, then," Tracey said, and her hand became a blazing blur on Mr. Dalton's super cock. She felt it fatten in her grip. The cockhead bulged and he came. A stream of hot, thick cream shot high into the air.
"Tracey!" Mr. Dalton panted. "Ooooooh, ahhh!"
His squirting prick unleashed a sweet shower of cum.
Tracey pumped faster, harder, pumping him dry. He fell back in his chair. She removed her hand, which dripped with cum.
"Yeah, come back tomorrow and I'll have some more money, okay?" Mr. Dalton asked.
"Sure," Tracey said, straightening her skirt, walking to the door. She paused, looked back, and smiled.
"Don't forget to come back and get your money," Mr. Dalton said, his body heaving up and down on the chair as he tried to catch his breath.
"Oh, I'll come back, sir."
"Next time I'm gonna fuck you," he said.
"Not with that big, sticky cock," Tracey said, still smiling.
"We'll see!" he whispered.
"Yeah, we'll see," she said, wiggling her sweet ass.
Chapter Nine
Darling Tracey walked down the hall, triumphant about her latest conquest, her tiny school skirt swirling on her pretty legs, her beautiful ass bouncing.
"Hey, Tracey!"
She turned around. Mr. Palmer was walking toward her.
"Hi, sir."
"I must see you," he said.
"I have a class in ten minutes, sir."
"Well, you can do a lot in ten minutes, Tracey."
"Like?"
"Come with me. Over here," Mr. Palmer said, taking her hand, pulling her into a corner behind the Coke machine. "I have not been able to get you out of my mind since we had that little -- session."
"Really?" Tracey asked, a sexy smile on her pretty face.
He grabbed her and pulled her to him, feeling the splendid spring of her youth against his masculine muscles. His cock thumped up against her.
His greedy hands fluttered down over her magnificent ass. He cupped the cheeks.
"Jeez, sir! Not here in the hallway!" Tracey whispered.
"I wanna have my hand in your panties, then I want your panties," he said.
"You took my panties the last time, sir."
"I wanna have them again!"
He stuck his hand under the striking, little skirt, slipped his fingers up her thigh, dancing his nails along the smooth skin, then plunged his hand into her crotch. He was surprised that it was already slushy.
"Boy, you're hot all right," he said. "I've always got hot panties, Mr. Palmer," Tracey said.
"You know you like my passionate advances!" he croaked.
"No way, sir, you frighten me."
"I don't mean to," he said, his hand dipping down into her pants, his fingers twisting through her thick cunthair.
"God, not here in the hallway, Mr. Palmer!"
"Yes, right here."
"Jeez, sir!"
His hand diddled in her panties. His finger slipped into her cuntslit.
"Ooof," Tracey gasped.
"My cock is so hard," he said.
"I can feel that it's hard." He lifted her little skirt.
"Oh my, blue panties. How lovely, darling," he said.
"You wanna take 'em down and keep 'em, don't you?" Tracey asked.
"You know I do!" he gasped.
"You gonna pay me for 'em?"
"Sure!"
"It's fifty dollars, sir."
"You got it."
"Okay, then. Take my panties down. Take 'em off. Take 'em. I know what you're gonna do with 'em."
"What's that, darling?" Mr. Palmer asked. "You're gonna beat-off in 'em, huh?"
"You got that right, Tracey!" He tugged at her panties. She lifted her skirt for him so he could take them off.
"Like that, sir? You're pulling my pants down. You're gonna keep them too, aren't you?"
"Yeah!"
"Might as well kiss my cunt while you're down there, sir," Tracey said.
"Pull your skirt down and meet me in my office," he said, getting up. He slipped her panties into his jacket pocket.
"Okay," Tracey said.
She dropped her skirt, waited a few minutes, then followed him to his office and went in.
Mr. Palmer sat with his pants down, his sports jacket off. His cock was hard, teeming, thick, profuse. He clutched it in his hand.
"Boy, you are hot this morning, Mr. Palmer," Tracey said.
"Hot for you!"
She saw the fifty-dollar bill on his desk. She put it in her purse.
"Pull your skirt up!" he demanded.
"Okay," Tracey said, then lifted the hem high, showing off her legs, her beautiful little cunt. She smiled sexily.
"Mmmmm, so nice!" he moaned, stroking his cock.
She rolled her hips suggestively, pushing her pussy at him.
"Ohhhhh, honey!" he gasped. "Jerk off!" Tracey whispered. He hammered his cock.
"Yeah, oooooh, wow!"
"Oh, baby!" he panted. She turned around.
"And my ass, wanna see that?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder.
"Yeah! It's just the juiciest ass I've ever seen!" he cried.
"Jerk off to it then," Tracey said.
He beat his cock with a rigorous herky-jerky jack-stroke.
"An exceptional ass!" Mr. Palmer moaned. She threw her skirt up over her back, bent forward, put her hands an her knees, and undulated her ass in suggestive, sexy swirls.
His hand pumped sadistically on his huge cock.
Tracey dropped her skirt a little so it half-covered her ass. A very sexy look. She wagged her ass and turned back around. She slipped her hand into his sports jacket and took out her panties, then walked to him. She straddled his legs and sat down on his thighs. She took her panties, pushed them into his face and reached down, moving his hand off his cock.
Tracey grabbed his cock. "Oh, goody! It's so big and hard, and it's all slick, too!"
"Honey!"
Tracey beat a lavish, smooth stroke on his prick, pumping up and down with a tight fist as she sat on his legs, rolling her ass, humping in and out. She kept her blue panties mashed on his face.
Mr. Palmer flicked his tongue and licked her panties.
She lifted up, held his cock, guided it to her cunt. She rubbed the pricktip on her cuntslit, then fucked down onto the huge cock.
"Wheee, whooooo!" Tracey groaned as his prick slipped into her cunt.
"Just a quick little fuck, sir. Then I gotta go to class," Tracey said.
She fucked up and down, standing now. His prick was like a baton between them. She pushed down, slid her pussy on the stalk, then pulled up, fucking him.
Tracey mashed her panties tighter against Mr. Palmer's face.
"You like this, don't you?" she asked. "Oh, Tracey!" he moaned through the panties.
She fucked faster. She felt his prick give and she pulled off.
"Ahhhh!" he gasped.
Tracey grabbed his cock with both hands and pumped.
The giant cock backfired and spit a raging river of cum.
She backed up so the hot cream wouldn't splash on her school skirt. She jerked wildly. Mr. Palmer was carried away with the rapid rape of her hot little hands.
"Ah, honey!" he yelled. "Shoot it out, sir!" Tracey whispered. She jerked him dry, then backed off. "Got a hankie?" she asked. He slumped in his chair.
She took his hanky and wiped her hands. "I gotta go now, sir. I don't wanna be late for class."
"No, of course not, darling."
Tracey turned to go. Mr. Palmer leaped from his chair and fell to his knees, lifting her skirt. His tongue licked her asscrack.
"Ah, oof! Not there again! Oh, sir! Not my ass! Ah!"
But he was on it. His tongue lapped in electric elation up and down her asscrack, an encore from his past performance. Tracey was overjoyed with the happy tingle that simmered through her. Then he hit her asshole.
"Ahhoo! Boy! Whew!" Tracey cried. It was a remarkable feeling that possessed the beautiful girl. His tongue bristled in billowing laps at her tight asshole. He moved it up and down, beaming, glowing. He clutched her asscheeks and licked.
"Oh, stop! Stop that, sir!"
Mr. Palmer reached around and diddled a finger into her pussy.
Tracey came immediately.
Chapter Ten
It was another game day. Tracey took to the field with the squad. They had on their alternate cheerleading uniforms, gold, white and blue. The skirt was gold and short, with inverted blue pleats. The top was a tight long-sleeve vest that just barely reached the skirt, so whenever Tracey stretched or jumped, the top pulled up to show her smooth, tight tummy. A dark-blue stripe ran down the arms.
She had on gold knee socks and blue bloomers. She spread her legs wide, planted her feet flat, cocked her knees, and bent way down, almost as if she were squatting to take a pee. She wiggled her ass.
A sight for hot eyes.
Tracey saw the flash of the camera. It was that man again. He'd been to every home game so far. He had taken hundreds of pictures of her.
Tracey was up, bumping to the left, then the right.
She turned around and bent over. Her tiny skirt pulled up over the blue bloomers that slicked smoothly on her ass. The pants were like a rubber glove, they fit her so tightly.
Tracey was delighted to be showing off. She thought about how lucky cheerleaders were, that they could perform and get men hot like she was doing. Her sweet pussy gooshed. Her bloomers got all wet.
Tracey was lovable, charming, and glorious. Her puffy ass wiggled and she just knew there were men in the stands that had hard cocks. The thought of it made her pussy wetter.
It was exciting to show off on the field, and Tracey whirled, her skirt spun out -- a good clear shot at the way her bloomers cuddled up in a tight crunch on her cunt.
At halftime she went to the concession stand and bought a Coke. The handsome man with the camera came over. He was tall, sandy haired. He wore slacks and a sports coat. He slipped in beside Tracey and smiled.
"You looked great out there!"
"You took some more pictures too, didn't you?" she asked.
"I'd like to take some more sometime!" he whispered, looking around, making sure no one overheard him.
"Yeah?"
"I sure would."
"What kind of pictures?"
"Sexy ones!"
"Huh?"
"You know... I'd make it worth your while," he said.
"Such as?"
"Couple hundred dollars. Two-fifty." Tracey looked into his handsome face and saw a sparkle in his blue eyes, anticipation on his face. His eyes again glanced around nervously to see that no one could hear his proposition.
"When?" Tracey asked.
"How about tomorrow afternoon, say three? At my place?"
"Where's that?"
He took out a pen, scratched his address on a scrap of paper, and handed it to Tracey with a twenty-dollar bill.
"That's for cab fare," he said, and disappeared.
After the game, Tracey was the last to pick up her bag and her pom-poms. She lingered on the field, bending over, giving good ass to the departing crowd.
She walked off the field toward the school to meet some girls. Eugene sat on the fender of his red pick-up waiting for her.
"Huh? You again?" she said. "I came to see you," Eugene said. "I can't, Eugene."
"You know what I got for you if you do?" he asked.
"What?"
"A hundred dollars."
"Well... okay then... I guess. But just for a little while."
She got in the truck with Eugene. He drove away from the school and up a deserted road, where they parked on a bluff overlooking the town.
The moan was like a bright spotlight. They got out. Eugene pressed against Tracey and kissed her. They leaned on the fender of the pick-up. His cock bulged at her. His hand played up under her sweet skirt, and he rubbed her pussy through her soft bloomers.
He stuck his other hand behind her and cupped her fine ass.
"I wanna fuck you, Tracey!" he whispered.
"No!"
Eugene ducked his head into her panties and slicked his fingers down into her wet cunt. He slid a finger into her cunt slit.
"Uh-uh, better not, Eugene."
"Yes, yes!" he gasped. "I wanna fuck!" He pulled her down onto the thick grass.
"Don't, Eugene. You'll get my uniform dirty."
His hands fluttered over her rich, fine body, feeling her tits, her waist, her hips, her thighs, and her legs. He slipped his fingers up her thighs and pushed her legs apart.
"Don't..."
Eugene smothered her protest with a slurping kiss.
His tongue fucked her mouth.
His hand tugged her panties down, and he pulled the bloomers along her thighs, down to her knees. He broke the kiss and got her bloomers off.
"Eugene, not here in these weeds!" Tracey gasped.
He pulled her cheerleading skirt up, laying the pretty pleats back over her tummy. He unzipped his fly and pulled his jeans down to his ankles.
"I wanna fuck you!" Eugene groaned. "I can tell," Tracey said. Her ponytail was lost in the tall grass.
Eugene hunkered over her, guiding his cock to her cunt. He fucked in. Tracey felt the hardness slip between her slushy cuntlips.
"Ah." Eugene moaned. "I'm in there!" Tracey reached down and fucked her fingers in a tapping flutter around the slick glide of his cock.
He humped her. His ass pumped high. He slugged his cock to her, his balls banging her sweet ass. He curled his arm under her neck and slid one hand under her ass, slicking a finger along the crack and tipping it into her asshole.
"Tell me how much you like to fuck." Eugene whispered.
"No!"
"Come on."
"No!"
"You know I'll pay you if you do."
"Well, all right then. I like to fuck, Eugene. I like to fuck," Tracey said.
His ass was like a hot, hard hammer, swinging up high, then pumping down. His cock fucked in and out of her wet, juicy pussy. His fingertip diddled her asshole.
"Again!"
"I like to fuck, Eugene! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tracey yelped.
"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Eugene cried.
"Fuck me, Eugene! Go on and fuck me!"
"You like to cum too, don't you?"
"Yeah, I like to cum. Cumming is fabulous, Eugene. Cumming is so good."
"It's the best thing in the world!" Eugene groaned.
"Uh-.huh! The best! I like to cum! Make me cum, Eugene! You got me in these weeds, and you're fuckin' me, so you better make me cum!"
He pumped wildly on top of her. "Fuck my pussy, Eugene! That's what you like to hear, isn't it? You like me to talk dirty to you, don't you?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Okay then. Fuck my pussy with your big, hard cock, Eugene! Like that! Faster, faster, fast!"
She was gripped by a loony, luscious feeling. She tingled quickly into a climax. Eugene hammered his ass up and down. His cock fucked in and out of her cunt.
Then his load splashed into her cunt. "Ahhhhhhh!" he yelled.
"Come on, fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me!" Tracey sobbed.
It was quick and fast there in the weeds, raw lust. Cock and cunt, a finger up the ass and Tracey shuddering hotly with orgasm.
Chapter Eleven
The next day, Tracey wondered what she should wear to meet the man with the camera. She looked at his name and address on the paper he'd given her. Mr. Hart. She wondered also what he did, how he made his money. He must have a lot, she thought, pondering -- his large offer. She wanted to look good. He wanted sexy pictures.
She selected a very short skirt of soft denim that cuddled her dandy little ass. She pulled the skirt up and slipped into a sweet pair of little pink panties. They were nice and tight, and they crunched up into her crotch. She turned and looked in the mirror at how it covered the curve of her ass. She dropped her skirt and thought about what top she would wear.
Tracey rummaged around in her closet and found a matching pink bra with lace underwire, lace sides, and lace back. She hooked it on. It bunched her tits together, making them look big, juicy.
Then she pulled on a tight pink sweater that came just to the top of her jeans skirt. She appraised her beauty in the motionless mirror. She liked what she saw. She sat down on the bed, stuck out her smooth, tanned legs, and put on a pair of pink heels, little two inch pumps.
She rode in a cab to Mr. Hart's house. She liked the power. She smiled to herself. She was being driven to see the handsome man who had been so hot about her.
The cab rolled into a long drive, up through a grove of trees, and stopped in front of a large mansion. Tracey got out, paid the driver, and walked to the door.
She knocked and Mr. Hart opened the door. He wore a blue turtleneck and gray slacks. He smiled.
"I'm so glad you came," he said. "Come in."
Tracey followed him down a long hall that featured surrealistic art on the walls. He led her to the living room. He went to the bar and fixed himself a drink.
"Would you like something?" he asked.
"A Coke," Tracey said.
He dropped some ice into a tall glass, popped the top of a Coke and poured it. Then he handed Tracey two hundred-dollar bills and a fifty.
She took the money and put it in her purse. "Shall we take some pictures?"
"I guess that's what you want, huh?" Tracey asked.
Mr. Hart produced an expensive camera. Tracey stood at the bar. He moved away, focused and took a picture of her.
"Why don't you lean back against the bar?" Tracey put down her Coke and leaned on the bar. He took a picture.
"Pull your little skirt up a little," he said.
"You got lots of pictures of me with my skirt up, huh? My cheerleading skirt," Tracey said as she rumpled up her skin high on her thighs.
"Yes, I do... ah that's nice." He took another hot photo. "Now pull it all the way up."
"And show you my panties?"
"Yes."
Tracey pulled the blue denim skirt up on her hips, up over her pink panties. They were shaded brown at the crotch.
"Mmm, nice," Mr. Hart said, flashing off a couple pictures.
Tracey noticed that a huge bulge had appeared in the crotch of Mr. Hart's slacks. She smiled seductively.
"Sit down in that chair," he said.
She sat in a big leather chair.
"Slide down a little bit on it... yes, like that."
Tracey sat down and slid out to the edge, her skirt still high above her panties. He took a picture. She spread her legs, because she thought he'd like that, and he did. Her pink heels were flat on the floor.
She was stretched out on the edge of the chair. Her knees were cocked, her pink sweater ballooned against her big teen tits. She saw Mr. Hart's cock leap and thump in his crotch.
Then he had her stand up and take off her skirt. He took some pictures of her in her pink sweater and pink panties and pink high heels. Tracey was adorable, sexy, alluring. Her panties were very tight.
Mr. Hart suggested she take off the sweater, and Tracey pulled it off. She stood proudly in her pink bra and panties, her pink heels. He flashed off more pictures, then reloaded the camera.
"Why don't you take your panties down a little for me," he said.
"You said you just wanted sexy pictures, sir. You didn't tell me you wanted to see my cunt."
"Please?" he begged.
"Well, all right, just a little then," Tracey said, stripping her pants down on her thigh, showing him her marvelous, young pussy.
Her pussy was wet now. She was hot from seeing his cock looking so big in his slacks. Then she saw the spread of his jizz as he squirted in his pants. She liked that.
"Turn around," Mr. Hart said.
She did, bent over, and gave him a good shot at her fine ass.
"You have a fabulous ass, Tracey," he said. "Thanks, sir," she said, looking back at him over her shoulder.
She put her hands on her knees and wiggled her ass for him. He shot several more pictures.
"Take your tits out of the bra!" he panted. "No!"
"Please."
"No!"
"I'll give you more money."
"Okay, then. I guess it's all right," Tracey said, cupping her fluffy, young tits and setting them up high over the top of her bra.
He took pictures.
Then he set the camera down and came over to her. He put his hands on her hips. Tracey pulled her panties back up.
"I guess you know I'm madly in love with you," he whispered, leaning in, kissing ha mouth.
"Love?"
"Yes, I'm crazy for you!"
His hand rubbed the crotch of her panties. Tracey felt the press of his prick against her as he held her tightly.
"I want you! I need you! I love you!" he groaned, his tongue licking her cherry-red lips.
"Sir, really?"
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you!" he gasped. His hand dipped into her pants.
"I don't think you should have your hand in my pants, sir!" Tracey whispered. "That wasn't part of the deal, was it?"
"Look, I'm gonna give you a thousand dollars all totaled, so let's just relax and enjoy this," Mr. Hart said.
"A thou..." Tracey gasped. "A thousand dollars? Well, okay, I guess you can be in my pants then."
His finger rubbed the slick lips of her cunt. "Oh, darling!" he whispered, his hand jiggling the crotch of her panties as he began fingerfucking her.
"Ooooh, whew! Sir!" Tracey moaned. He reached down and unzipped his fly with his free hand. He fumbled around and couldn't get his cock out. It was too big. He unbuckled his slacks and they fell to his ankles. He didn't wear shorts. His prick leaped at Tracey.
"Holy cow!" she screeched, looking down, seeing his massive cock. "Oh, wow! Jeez! Hey, sir!"
Mr. Hart had an enormous prick.
"Where did you get a cock that big?" Tracey asked, her eyes bugging at the huge prick.
He smiled, pleased she was so impressed with his fourteen-inch cock. The stalk wobbled between them. He pushed at her and the big hard-on hammered up against her belly.
They kissed again.
Mr. Hart backed off, kicked off his slacks, and took his shoes and socks off.
"Take it! Hold it!" he whispered. "Wow, boy. This is really big, Mr. Hart," Tracey said, reaching out, grabbing the huge cock. Her hand underhanded it, then her fingers curled over the top.
He slid his hand back between her legs, rubbing his fingers into the damp deliciousness of her panties. He rubbed her cunt. Tracey slid her hand on his prick, almost as if she were shaking dice at a Vegas table.
"You're beautiful," he said.
She looked up from his cock and saw a glint of admiration in his eyes.
"Really incredible! You've got it all!" he gasped.
"Thank you, sir!" Tracey whispered, then looked back to the enormous prick she had in her hot little hand.
"How big is this cock?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said.
"It's gotta be the biggest in the world, huh?"
"Might be."
He slipped his hand into her panties. His fingers fucked around in the tight curls of her girlish cunt.
"Oh, my precious darling. Oh, how I love you!" he moaned.
His cock bulged in her hand. She squeezed his thick, thumping cockstalk.
He pulled her to him again. They kissed as they fondled each other's secret. Tracey was overwhelmed with his hot, huge cock. There seemed to be no end to it. She fluttered her fingers all up and down the tense, rigid prick-stalk.
Mr. Hart said. "I wanna take your panties off now."
He withdrew his hand from inside, then tugged the pink pants down her slick hips, down to her knees, her ankles, and Tracey lifted her feet so he could take them off.
"Oh, darling!" he gasped, feeling her legs and dipping to his knees. His lips smacked along her legs and thighs, then he planted a hot kiss on her cunt.
"Mmmmmm, ooooh!" Tracey moaned. He sucked her cunt with a wide-open, eager mouth, slurping on her delicious pussy. Then he stood up.
"Do that to me," he said.
Tracey bent over. She dipped down and kissed the tip of his huge cock. She licked her sweet tongue all over the fizzing prickhead. Then she sucked him into her mouth.
"Ah, ahhh, ooohhh, Tracey!" he sighed. "Darling! My sweet, sweet lover!"
She bobbed in and out.
He grabbed her ponytail and manipulated her head.
"Suck it!" he gasped. "Suck my cock, you little fucker!"
She slid in farther on it, but it was so huge, so thick, there was not much chance of giving him a full blow-job.
Her red mouth was a plunger on the top of the huge prick. She moved both hands around his massive prick, ducking up and down.
"Oh, oh, oh! Sweet darling bitch!" he whimpered, still jerking her ponytail, enjoying the soft slurp of her divine young lips on the tip of his towering cock. "You're so beautiful! You're gonna make me cum!"
Tracey lifted off his cock, stood above him, grabbed the bristling stalk, clutched the hard-on in a two-handed grip, and pulled and pushed furiously.
Then he came.
The juice spurted from his thrilling rock-hard cock. A volcanic spiral of hot cream jetted upward. Tracey jerked wildly, thumping up and down with her hands. She was amazed at the flood of jizz.
She liked pumping Mr. Hart's big prick. She worked hard. He kept cuming. She kept pumping. Cum spilled. Gobs of goop shot at her. A huge hunk of cum splashed on her belly.
"I'm cummin'... oh, I'm cumming!" he panted.
"Oh, yeah! You sure are, sir!"
"You do that so good! You jack so good!" he moaned, humping his hips upward, his cock a hot gun in her hands, a sweet juice-shooter.
"Honey, honey! Oh, sweet baby! I love you! Oh, how I love you!"
The huge eruption finally subsided. Tracey's hands were drenched in cum. Big splats of goo clung to her body like spiders.
Mr. Hart fell back.
"I want you to go in the other room and put on some clothes I purchased for you!" he panted, trying to catch his breath. "They're on the bed."
He pointed to an adjoining room. Tracey left him. She walked into the room and found a white satin merry widow on the bed. She hooked it on. She found dark nylons. She pulled them up and snapped them tightly into place with the garters from the merry widow. It was a push-up widow that left her tits sitting up high. She saw a pair of shiny, white high heels. She put them on and looked in the mirror on the wall.
"Wow, I'm happening," she said. "This is really sexy."
She walked back into the other room. Mr. Hart gasped.
"Oh, Tracey, darling!"
He grabbed his camera and started shooting pictures.
"Diddle your cunt for me," he said.
"You sure you're gonna give me a thousand dollars?" Tracey asked.
"Oh, even more!"
Tracey sat down on the couch. She slid forward, spread her legs, cocked her knees and started taking pictures her cunt. Mr. Hart snapped some more. "I wanna take some pictures of you! I'd like to see you playin' with that big cock of yours, sir," Tracey said.
He turned the camera over to her, excited by this new twist in the action. He sat down in a big leather chair. His cock was hard again. He played with the immense hard-on. Tracey focused the camera and started shooting.
"Yeah, like that! That really looks good, sir! I like it when you pump like... oooooooh, yeah, fast like that... go on, jerk... jerk hard!" she groaned, the flash unit blinding Mr. Hart as she clicked away.
"Cum for me," Tracey said.
"Now?"
"Anytime. I wanna see you shoot-off. I wanna take some pictures of you shooting. And I wanna be sure I get them, too."
Mr. Hart shot a big load. Cream whooshed from his cock. Tracey took pictures. She was so hot she thought her pussy might start screaming.
When he finished cumming, she went over and stood in front of him in the tight merry widow, her nylons, the high heels. Her big tits stuck out. Her pussy looked good. Mr. Hart gasped and reached for her.
"I wanna fuck you!" he whispered, holding her head with his cum-soaked fingers.
"I don't think so. It's way too big, sir."
"Just a little bit! I'll just put the head on your pussy, okay?"
"Well, okay then."
"Sit on me," he said.
Tracey straddled his thighs, spread her legs wide, and stood over him. His huge cock slapped up against her belly. She cupped the stalk in her hand and pulled it like a gearshift back against the tight, white merry widow. She pumped down on it.
Mr. Hart reached behind her. He clutched the fine cheeks of her ass.
"So nice!" he moaned. "So very nice!" He squeezed and pinched the pliant curve of her ass. Then he brought one hand around in front, played it up over the top of the merry widow, and cupped her juicy, sweet tits. As he fondled her tits, his finger slid like a feather up and down the crack of her marvelous ass.
Tracey held his cock with both hands. She continued to stand, her white high heels on the floor, her legs cocked at the knees. She humped up and came down on his prick.
The cockhead slicked into the lips, of her creamy cunt.
"Oooooh!" Mr. Hart sighed, as his prick was lodged in Tracey's pussy.
"Like that?" she asked. "Fuck like this?"
"Yeah, baby, like that, fuck me!"
"I can only fuck the top of it like this, sir. The top only, because this is such a big cock."
"You're doing fine!" he huffed. Tracey swirled her hips in a real slow undulation, fucking down on his cock, feeling the long stalk slip into her cunt deeper, harder.
"Oh, sir! It's slippin' in my cunt!" Mr. Hart fingered her asshole. "Oooof, whoa! Up my ass, too?" she whispered.
He squeezed her tits with his free hand. She bent down and planted a hot kiss on his lips. He humped up, pushed his prick farther into her pussy.
"Afff!" Tracey wheezed, breaking their kiss. "Not so much."
She kept fucking. She screwed her fabulous young hips in circles, thumping and pumping down, then up, down, then up, real slow -- fucking Mr. Hart splendidly.
"You sweet little fucker!" he gasped. "You darling cock fucker!"
"Ohhh, oooh, sir! You talk so naughty!"
"I love you, Tracey! I want you! I want to be with you forever!"
"Fuck me forever, sir?"
"Yes, yes, yes! Fuck you forever!"
"Boy, that'd sure be something wouldn't it? You and me, together all the time! Boy, wow! And this great big cock, too! Sir, it's just too awesome!"
He fucked up and down, thrust his hips up at her, speared his cock deeper into her cunt, pushed into her a full eight inches, but still there was a long shaft of his prick sticking between them.
"Wheee, eeeewwww!" Tracey whistled, looking down, seeing his big cock in her cunt.
She was beautiful, still standing on her white high heels, her legs astride Mr. Hart, her body sheathed in the tight, body-hugging merry widow. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned over him. Her tits hung out. He craned his neck and puckered his lips, sucking on her erect nipples. She undulated in and out, up and down, swirling her ass in sweet semicircles.
He sucked at her heaving tits. She pushed hard on his shoulders, rotated her gorgeous hips, fucked down on him, manipulated herself on his cock, used it like it was a lightning rod, a gearshift.
"Oh, darling," Mr. Hart said. "You are a good fucker, a brilliant fuck!"
"Mmmmmmm!" Tracey moaned, shaking her shoulders so that her tits wobbled in his face, mashed and splashed on his sucking mouth.
He clutched her ass. His hands squeezed. He was in heaven.
She rode him good. Her hips bounced high. She sat down on his knees, pulling his cock down with her so that it was like a connecting rod to her pussy. She slid in and out, fucking him hotly.
"Oh, baby!" he cried.
He reached up and cupped her tits. "Big bad cock!" Tracey moaned, looking down, seeing the creamy prick slipping in and out of her soft pussy.
Now they were a fucking machine. They had reached that indescribable moment when the feeling is overwhelming, where the passion is explosive. They were fucking.
His cock bulged in her cunt.
She fucked harder and faster. She still had her fingers pinched into his shoulder. She tucked her chin in and looked down at the pistoning slide of his prick.
"Dirty little prick-fucker!" Mr. Hart gasped. "Dirty old cunt-fucker," she said. "I love you, Tracey."
"Then fuck me!"
"I wanna marry you!" he yelped, and then he came. His cock wiggled in her pussy like a wild fish. His load shot into her. "Ah, ohhh!"
"Sir!" she called, fucking him furiously, feeling the first fabulous tickles of her own orgasm.
"I wanna marry you!"
"Oh, oh, ohhhhhhh!" Tracey screamed as her climax gripped her entire being, as his cum flushed into her pussy.
"Ahhh, baby!" he shouted, humping up off the chair, thrusting his prick at her cunt. "Bastard darling, little fucker, ahhhhh!"
"Big dirty old little-girl fucker!" Tracey groaned.
They fucked and talked, both hot, both overcome by their climax, both flooded with good feelings.
Their passion finally subsided, and Tracey collapsed on top of Mr. Hart.
"Oh, honey!" he whispered.
"Oh, Mr. Hart!" she moaned.
"I wanna marry you," he said.
"Gee, sir... whoooaaa, marry me?"
"Yes!"
"Golly, sir!" She slipped off him. "Really? You wanna marry me?"
"Yes!"
"How would that work?" she asked.
Chapter Twelve
Mr. Hart sat with Tracey on his lap. She still had on the tight, white merry widow, the dark, lovely nylons hooked into the garters, and her white high heels. She had her arms around his neck. He petted her thighs.
Mr. Hart explained how his father had left him a corner lot in the downtown area with a crumbling old pool hall on it.
"Worth practically nothing," he said. "But then the city council invited in a major developer to renovate the downtown area. They offered to buy my corner. It was important to them. I held out. They kept raising their offer. I still held out. Finally they made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"How much?" Tracey asked, kissing Mr. Hart on the cheek.
"A little over a million dollars."
"Wow!"
"So, you see, I could make you very happy."
They hugged and cuddled in silence. Then Mr. Hart said: "I have an idea. Why don't we just take off? We could travel for a year, stay at the best resorts. You could pretend to be my daughter."
"Wow, that's wild, Mr. Hart!"
"Call me Harry," he said.
"Would we spend lots of money?" Tracey asked.
"I'll tell you what. I'll bring my credit cards and a hundred thousand dollars in cash. How's that sound?"
It sounded good to Tracey. She'd never heard anyone talk about money like this. She wiggled on his lap.
"Sure," she said. "I could go. My mom would be happy to get rid of me."
"Then it's settled!" he whispered. "We'll do it, okay?"
"Okay!"
"Next week, say Tuesday. I'll pick you up at school, and we'll take off. You needn't bring any clothes. We'll buy all new ones for you."
"Jeez," Tracey mumbled, excited by the offer of travel and money. "Sure, Tuesday!"
Mr. Hart pushed her back on the couch. She cocked up her knees. He straddled her, stiff and manly, his cock hard. He pushed it into her tits. She pushed them together and fluffed them around the rigid stalk. He stayed on top of her, his cock fucking her tits, the pricktip touching her mouth.
She was so pretty. Her mouth hung open. His cock slipped between her lips. She nibbled the giant cockhead.
"Oh, darling, darling, darling!" he gasped. "We'll have so much fun!"
Then he pulled her from the couch. They got down on the floor and lay together. Tracey grasped his huge prick. She fisted the stalk and jerked.
"I wanna see you, jerk-off again!" she whispered.
He rolled over onto his back. She got up on her knees beside him. He took his prick in his hand and slowly jacked it.
"Oooooh, that looks good!" Tracey whispered. "I love the way that looks!"
"You do, huh?"
"Yeah, I wanna see you squirt again. Can you?"
"Just watch," he said, and his hand fucked faster on his cock.
"Beat it, sir! Jerk your big cock for me!" Tracey groaned.
"Like this?"
"Yeah, wow! Like that! Hammer that cock! Oh, sir! Do it! I love that! Do it faster, sir!"
He hammered. He jerked. He fucked his fist, and Tracey got so excited she had to stick her finger in her cunt and diddle her pussy.
"Ah, yeah! Fuck yourself!" he whimpered, drubbing his massive prick.
"I like it when it slobbers, when it bubbles like that, sir! When it gets all creamy! Wow!" she said.
Tracey bent over at the waist, her face just above his jacking action. She watched intently. Her sweet ponytail hung off her shoulder.
Mr. Hart pumped harder.
"Do it, jerk off! I love to see men jerk off!"
Tracey yelped. "Oh, oh come on, sir! Faster! Oh, yes! Like that! Oh, harder! Whooooooo! Shit!"
He came.
His cock shot off. Spunk jetted upward and splashed on Tracey's tits, chin, and face. She opened her mouth and let him shower her with his cum.
"Mmmmm, uuuuhhh, whooofffff, yeahhh!" she moaned.
Tuesday came.
Tracey woke up and put on a tight, short jeans skirt. She added brown sandals and a tight white sweater and went to school.
She was excited all day by the prospect of Mr. Hart picking her up after school to take her away, take her to rich places, take her to romantic destinations.
School let out. She walked down the steps. She had left all her books in her locker. She had left a note for her mother at home that she was running away.
Mr. Hart pulled up in a big black Mercedes. He pulled it over to the curb. Tracey got in. He was excited to see her.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Sure," Tracey said, relaxing in the plush leather of the seat.
"Look in there," he said, handing her an expensive leather briefcase. "Just snap the lock."
She opened the briefcase. Inside were stacks and stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
"Wow! Jeez!" she gasped. "Whew..."
"A hundred thousand dollars... and we're gonna spend it and have fun," Mr. Hart said, reaching over and petting her leg.
They drove away.
"God, you look good!" he whispered. Tracey saw the erection in his gray slacks. She smiled.
"Should I give you a hand-job while you drive?" she asked sweetly.
"Oh, yes," he said heatedly. "But first I have to stop for some gas."
They pulled in at a Texaco, filled up, and were leaving the station when a red pick-up swerved in front of them out on the street.
Eugene looked like a wild man behind the wheel. He forced the Mercedes to take a left on a side street. Then he forced Mr. Hart's car to the curb.
"Who is this idiot?" Mr. Hart asked.
"It's Eugene," Tracey said.
"Who?"
But Eugene was already standing beside the door of the Mercedes. He pulled it open. He had a shotgun.
"What the..."
He yanked Mr. Hart from the seat and pushed him up against the fender. He cocked the shotgun and blasted a hole in. Mr. Hart's stomach. He blasted again and ripped part of his head off.
Mr. Hart slumped dead to the street. "Come on," Eugene said to Tracey. "You're comin' with me!"
Tracey grabbed the briefcase. She got out. "Where we goin', Eugene?" she asked, walking to the pick-up.
"Mexico, I guess."
"I guess! You better get out of here! You just killed a guy!"
"I know," Eugene said.
"That was really bad, Eugene."
"I know! I lost my head! I was so jealous!" Tracey kept the briefcase in her lap.
"Who was he?" Eugene asked.
"He was a man who was in love with me, that's who, Eugene."
"Well, he doesn't love you anymore, besides I love you more than anyone," he said.
They drove in silence for a few minutes. Eugene stopped. He got out and ditched the shotgun in a trash compactor.
"Mexico -- Mexico!" Eugene gasped, getting back in the cab.
Tracey smiled, thinking about the hundred thousand dollars she had in the briefcase.
She reached over and slid her hand along Eugene's thigh.
"I always did like you best, Eugene!" she whispered.
He smiled. "Really? That's what I wanna hear!"
"Wanna have me give you a nice hand-job?" she asked.
Her hand lifted to his crotch. She unzipped his fly and took his hard, thick cock out.
