No wonder preachers are alarmed about the devil's winning of people's souls. Just count all the tools with which he is working.
Idle hands produced by increased leisure time either from shorter work weeks or employment layoffs prompted by the economic recession; crime rates are soaring. Frustration and disappointment in a person's day-to-day routine-and he or she look elsewhere for excitement and fulfillment. Boredom and isolation from intellectually invigorating situations and people. Impatience with the status quo and recognizing mentally dulling tasks are unalterable.
These are only a few examples of what can drive relatively normal people "up the wall" and lead them to behavior not accepted as normal, into aberrations. Sometimes there is a morning-after shame and sense of guilt. But often people shrug off twinges of conscience, even revel in the memories of exciting sensations and dream of the next opportunity for tingling adventures and new experiences that will dispel, for a time, the humdrum of daily routine.
These are the people who let or make their sexual fantasies become stark reality. And to achieve their own lustful gratifications, they maneuver others into their arms and their beds.
Some of their partners come open-eyed and willingly; others are sort of trapped or lulled into cooperation with sexually aggressive men and women.
Desperate times, such as natural disasters, make some people easy prey for those with sexually warped minds. They succumb easily to lewd touches and embraces of men and women, often letting their bodies become available to sex-starved people who climb on them, their bodies between others' naked thighs.
In Nola's case, perhaps, her venting of passions with other women and young boys and men could be explained by saying she was disappointed in the quirks of a man she cared for and dreamed of marrying.
Perhaps Terry was the victim of sex cravings rooted deep in her childhood. Young boys were her meat.
And how normal or abnormal is Corbie? She thrived on sex whenever and however she could get it. But she thrilled most when she had a voluptuous young woman naked in her arms.
At any rate, sex, normal and abnormal, will be practiced by any and all when circumstances and opportunities are just right.
We have here such a group of people, living and working closely together in a private school. And we have their anxieties and involvement when a forest fire strikes in Utah.
And when it is all over, some may be injured mentally by what they have done; others may shuffle off their feelings of shame and continue living as though nothing much had happened. And others may use the situation to affect a turning point in their lives.
Whatever damage may have been done at the time, it is human nature and spirit to build new and better lives.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Slowly, with tremors of joy waning in her body, Nola Jones shivered down from the crest of sexual ecstasy. She was conscious of a fine film of passion-perspiration on her naked body. With her eyes still closed, she sought Bob's shoulders with her hands, rubbed his smooth skin lovingly and hugged him closer, drawing his hairless chest more firmly against her crushed breasts.
"Oh, Lordy, heavenly," she sighed softly, pressing the inner planes of her silky thighs against his flanks as if she would devour him with her lower, hungry mouth. "And when we're married it will go right on being lovely," she murmured, planting little kiss-kisses on his ear as he snuggled his face into the creamy hollow of her neck. "Wonderful, wonderful, lovely, lovely fucking," she purred, wiggling her bare butt invitingly, wanting him to resume his coital duties.
She was conscious of a nagging uneasiness in her mind, disturbed she couldn't account for it and explain it away. It had really been good; she had cum about five or six times and her fianc�e was still with her, his naked body pressed the length of hers while he rested. And his penis was still long and rigid, buried deep in her cunny, expanding her vagina, the large head nudging the farthest wall of her cavern.
Nola waggled her ass again, silently exhorting him to give her some more fucking. She clenched her sphincters about his rigid member with all her might, setting up a milking rhythm around the blood-veined barrel.
"Don't you want to fuck me any more this afternoon?" she asked plaintively, gently rolling her smooth-mooned ass upward to create a gentle, delicious pistoning of his rod in her sex-chamber.
"It's good," Bob Chapman said huskily, his hands groping along her sleek back and flanks to cup her firm buttocks, lifting her and giving her a couple of long, deep, masterful plunges of his cock.
"Then let's mobile," Nola encouraged, lacing her trim ankles across the small of his back and aiming her pussy into the air to take all the cock he could ram into her. The head of his prick tickled against her cervix and his groin ground deliciously against the puffed lips of her pussy, mashing and agitating her extended clitoris. "Lordy, I love having you fuck, me, Honey."
"Sure do," he said, grunting as he withdrew his cock until just the knob was inside her cunt, hesitated, then reamed it back into her quivering body.
But his motions seemed to be desultory, almost bored. And it troubled Nola as she swiveled her ass around and around as Bob plowed his cock into her pussy. "Aren't you going to make it today, either? You didn't cum two days ago and only a little bit last Saturday. What's the matter, Bob? Don't you enjoy fucking with me?"
Nola opened her eyes and peered through a fine film of tears that trickled down the sides of her face, into her dainty ears. "You know I don't get nearly as much bang out of your banging me if you don't climax, too. That's the best part of our fun-when you shoot your gun and fill my pussy full of your thick hot jizz."
He didn't answer, but continued hunching his lean ass, driving his long, thick cock in and out of her hot, liquid pussy. He thrust in deep, hesitated, letting it soak in her coiling sex-hole, then drew far out, swabbing the massive glans in her soppy vulva and nudging her clit before slamming it back into her.
"Oooooh, I love that," she cooed, waggling her ass with abandon and up-fucking her pussy each time he chocked it full of cock.
Nola began gurgling as Bob's steady pumping of prick into pussy again lifted her into sensual heaven. "My pussy is exploding," she wailed, gloating as he humped her hard and fast, their bellies slapping together as he lunged the cock into her ravenous cunt.
"Why aren't you going to cum?" she fretted, shivering through her orgasm, her fingernails raking long red streaks across his back. "I love it so when you drive you cock deep into me and hose me full of your pearly honey. What's the matter, Bob?"
Still, he didn't reply.
Maybe, Nola thought, not relishing the idea, he wants all of me. Maybe he wants to-cornhole me. A cold shiver of dread fluttered through her. She had let a boy in high school try that one night after a beer party and the memory of the pain and humiliation lingered with her. But-a scowl drew deep wrinkles in her smooth brow-he wants me to-go down on him.
"Please cum, Honey," she cajoled, shaking her ass with renewed vigor. "Maybe if you fuck me real fast with long strokes, you'll cum off with a real fun-blast." She thought he had a gorgeous prick-but the idea of taking the blunt, purplish plum in her mouth and having him fuck the heavily veined shaft into her throat was repulsive to her.
"Feel my fucky muscles gripping your wonderful cock?" she purred, concentrating and writhing her vaginal walls around his pulsating shaft.
"You're really good," Bob said. "I do love fucking with you, Honey."
Maybe he's beginning to feel guilty because we aren't married yet, Nola fretted, aware of their combined coital juices seeping around his thick cork and soaking her asshole.
"I want you to cum," she said with determination, hoisting her butt high and up-fucking her cunt rapidly.
Nola could see the drawn drapes of her bedroom beyond Bob Chapman's right shoulder. The fall afternoon sun was fading and soon there would be rain, then snow. Nola drew her feet far back even with her head and gripped them so that her broadly Veed ass was even more defenseless and Bob could take her in the asshole, if he wished. Her brown anus was right there to be ravaged by his marauding monstrous cock.
She looked forward to the fall weather, the rains and the snows-and the valley and the foothills and the mountains needed the moisture.
"Honey," she implored, "that's it. Fuck me fast and hard and deep. Right now. I'm gonna cum again. Ooooohhh, Jeez, fuck it to me, Bob. Give me all your fabulous cock in deep thrusts. Fuck it to me 'til it hurts 'cause I'm gonna blast my pussy right out of my belly. Slam the prick to me, Honey. Ooooohhh, aaaaggghhh, gooodddd fuckin' cock. Lovely prick, terrific fucking. Golleeee, I love the way you bang Nola's little old greedy pussy."
The bed creaked ominously as Bob pummeled the prick into her pliant body and Nola smiled smugly as she careened through the best orgasm of the afternoon. The sound of Bob's prick going slock-slock, snock-snock, squish-squish in and out of her seething pussy, so snug around his fat cannon, deepened her satisfaction. And she loved the musky aroma of cock and pussy stewing up a storm.
Unbidden, her mind formed a thought and she wondered what Corbie Stephens and Terry Whitman were doing right then. Both of them had fluttered their eyelashes at Bob Chapman, but he was hers. She suppressed a giggle. They'd probably be envious as hell if they knew that Bob was riding high in her sex-saddle and she had spent the afternoon galloping through orgasm after orgasm.
Nola could visualize Terry correcting ninth grade English papers from her classes at the school for special children. Again, she was tempted to laugh gleefully, her mind picturing the red-haired teacher wading fretfully through reams of homework. She bet Terry would probably prefer being naked on her back with a good man between her long thighs, giving her twat a good workout.
Corbie's probably in the school's infirmary tending students with early flu or indigestion, Nola mused, grateful that Bob had resumed his coital endeavors. But she knew that she wasn't going to have another good cum because she was troubled that he hadn't. They'd been fucking for over an hour and he hadn't reached a climax and wasn't going to stream her twat full of juicy jizz.
"Make it, Honey," she wheeled, flopping her ass up and down, back and forth in a rotary motion. "Go, go, go; cum, cum, cum, Honey."
For about a minute he pumped his prick into her pussy recklessly and she thought he was about to make it. But he suddenly heaved his body from between her widely splayed legs and stared intently at her steamy pussy. He put a trembly hand across her parted sex-gash and massaged the profusely carpeted Venus mound with a thumb.
"You have such a beautiful pussy, Nola," Bob said fervently and bent his head into her crotch to kiss her hair-matted pussy lips and lick his tongue through her furrow.
"I envy you, Nola. You have such a deliciously gorgeous pussy," he continued. "And you have such a wonderful time with a man, getting your pussy punched full of cock."
"Oooohhh, Bob," she protested, lying flat on her back with her knees fanned wide so he could study her cunt and play with it with his fingers and kiss and tongue it. "You're the lucky one- men have a lot of fun. And you have a magnificent cock and sack of nuts."
His dark scowl cut off her words and a new worry wormed through her mind. Her psychiatric training alerted her that something was wrong- something almost frightening.
"Crap," Bob said grimly, still fingering her pussy, pushing his middle finger deep into her cunt, his thumb toying with her clit. "I know what I'm talking about. All those years I lived with my guardian aunt, I learned. She had more fun than a hundred women. I used to slip around and watch her get fucked by this man and that man-how she lived! Ever since, I guess," he said wistfully, "I've wanted to be a woman and have any man who wanted to, to fuck me."
"Oh, Bob," Nola protested, alarm bells ringing in her brain. "You wish no such thing."
"The hell I don't," he snorted vehemently, lurching from the bed and beginning to yank on his clothes. "I do wish I were a woman."
Slowly, numbly, Nola crept from the bed and picked up her undies. She straightened out her panties and laid them on the bed, then picked up the bra with its lacy cups.
Suddenly, Bob brightened. "Hey, Honey, let me. I get a thrill out of putting a bra and panties on a woman. Let me do it."
Nola felt stunned, but handed over the filmy harness and stood docilely as the stocky man with close-cropped brown hair fitted the cups over her firm, ample tits and hooked the strap in back. She steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, lifting first one foot then the other, stepping into her sheer skivvies. She trembled with little chill shivers of pleasure as he smoothed the satiny material over the buns of her butt and up through her crotch.
"Damn, I love to do that," he breathed rapidly. "T can just about shoot a load of jizz from doing that for a woman. I do wish I were a woman," he muttered gruffly, turning away as Nola finished dressing.
"How are things coming with the real estate development?" she sought to change the subject.
He was silent for a minute. His shoulders slumped. "The three-hundred and sixty acres are out there. The sewer and storm drains are all in. The utility company is about done with the underground electrical work. The telephone company finished last Friday. The first fifty condominium units will be finished by the first of the year."
"I'll never be able to afford such luxury," Nola said brightly, slipping past him, patting him on the butt, then squeezing the prominent genital bulge in his slacks. "Let's have a drink? You want me to fix something to eat?"
"Not hungry," Bob said. "The drink is okay."
After he was gone, Nola sat in the dark living room, worried, sipping a drink. Is he sick? she fretted.
She wished she had someone to discuss it with. Surely not Terry or Corbie, again wondering what the two were doing. She mixed another drink and detoured to the bathroom, bringing back a small mirror and hair brush to groom long, blonde hair slightly tousled from her romp on the over-size bed with Bob.
"I'm a psychologist and school counselor for the kids here and expected to be able to cope with problems-and I'm the one who needs advice," she said dully. "We studied such cases in college-and Bob Chapman has a problem."
CHAPTER TWO
Nola had presumed correctly about what Terry Whitman and Corbie Stephens were doing. Terry was correcting test papers and Corbie was administering medicinal dosages to the six teenaged boys in the fourteen-bed school infirmary.
The husky young man with the broken leg from football practice received three aspirins and a fleeting kiss on the forehead from the pixie-like nurse with black hair cut in a page boy.
"Don't try running any foot races," Corbie smiled as she left.
"I can perform in other events that don't require running," the lanky youth retorted.
"I bet you can," Corbie smiled faintly, entering another room with a hypodermic.
She stood for a moment, studying the lean youth propped up in bed reading the latest copy of Sports Illustrated. "I have a little ol' needle with antibiotics and Vitamin B for that summer pneumonia," Corbie smiled, winking, approaching the bed.
"Put it in my arm or shoulder," the youth frowned flinched, pushing a hand toward Corbie. There was a flickering of embarrassment in his eyes.
"Nope," Corbie shook her short, black hair. "You're a well-muscled young man, out you don't have enough meat on your bones for it." For a moment she contemplated what kind of meat he had on his male bone. "So, it's in the rump, Buster." She set a bottle of rubbing alcohol and box of cotton swabs on the table. "Roll over on your side and let me at your butt."
The youth flashed her a look of rebellion and dread, then squirmed onto his right side. "Aw, Nurse Stephens, I don't think I need a shot of that stuff. I'm feeling lots better now."
"Doctor's orders," Corbie persisted. I bet hot-pants Terry wished she were here to watch this. Someday, she's going to get stubborn and refuse to come across unless I let her at one of these young studs, Corbie frowned thoughtfully, tossing back the sheet.
Deftly, she parted the hospital gown that was split down the back to reveal the youth's naked back and lean buttocks. "This won't be much more than a little sting," she said soothingly, soaking a cotton swab in alcohol and applying it to the smooth fanny bun. She took up the hypodermic in her right hand and placed her left on the boy's hard flesh. Yep, little Terry would just about pop her nuts just from watching this, she suppressed a giggle.
She ran her fingers into the clenched ass crack and bunched the flesh. "Relax," she coaxed, massaging his butt provocatively. "You ought to relax and enjoy this. Not every guy gets a girl to play with his rump. "I bet Terry would give an arm and one of her shapely legs to do this-and play with the toys you got between your legs, Corbie mused, a momentary shiver of excitement flushing hotly through her belly. I wonder where and when she got her yen to get her jollies with young kids? I wonder if she goes down on them? If she sucks cock the way she eats pussy, she could drive a young stud crazy.
"Relax your butt," she said flatly, enjoying the pinching and fondling of his lean loaf. Before he could protest, she stung the needle to him, deposited the medicine and extracted it. She mopped at the tiny puncture with the cotton swab and slapped him sharply on the bare ass. She tossed the covers back over him. "Okay, young stallion, that settles you for the evening and night. The night aide will be on in a little bit to bring your din-din."
She returned to the station and met the LVN who was on until midnight. "When the doctor calls in from his clinic, tell him all is well here at the school and he needn't drive out to check the patients."
"Are you going into Ogden tonight?" the heavy-set LVN asked.
"Not tonight," Corbie smiled. "I'll be upstairs in my apartment. I'll probably be down about midnight when you go off and make the rounds with you." She turned toward the stairs to the second floor and the apartment provided by the private school.
She mixed a martini and wandered restlessly through the quarters. For a time she stood at the large picture window facing the Wasatch Mountains of Eastern Utah. The lowering sun painted the sheer mountains a fire red and Corbie frowned. The Salt Lake City and Ogden newspapers carried stories every day about fire danger. What would happen if a fire started in the mountains in late October? The school superintendent had said more than once that the school was very vulnerable if fire started in this area. And what about Bob Chapman's ritzy land development? She knew that he had a lot invested in the project up Weber Canyon.
She frowned and went to make a fresh martini. She wondered whether Bob and Nola were making out. "They must be," she pouted, strolling to the west window of the living room to peer out toward the Great Salt Lake, in the direction of Nola's apartment on the west side of the campus. "I bet Nola would be a hot sex partner-with those smoldering blue eyes and the way her butt rolls and wiggles when she walks."
Corbie licked her lips absently, conjuring up a full picture of Nola Jones in her mind's eye- a picture of Nola naked, stretched out on a bed with her knees drawn up and fanned wide, hands reaching out, plush boobies firm and proud, full lips puckered slightly for a kiss. "Goddamn, I'd like that," Corbie sighed wistfully, aware of a delicious, teasing and itching and burning between her legs. "I wonder if our psych-counselor has ever made it with another gal?"
She pressed a dainty hand against her flat tummy, let her fingers push into her love-mound and pussy smile. "I don't care if she's letting Bob Chapman shaft his big cock into her cunny-that would just make it all the hotter and juicier for tonguing."
She went into the bedroom and removed the pants suit nurse uniform and returned to the kitchen for another drink, wearing nothing but white panties and bra and white saddle shoes. She flounced into a big chair, scowling. "I could call Terry," she murmured, "but she'd probably wheedle at me to set her up with one of the kids in the infirmary. I don't know whether a session of girl-girl sex with her is worth giving her new promises or not. But I do need my pussy tickled, my titties kissed-."
Corbie finished the drink and eeled out of the chair. "What I really want is that gorgeous Nola Jones-belly to belly, titties to titties, lips to lips." She unhooked the bra as she strode toward the bathroom. She dropped the bra and panties in a clothes hamper and ran a tub of hot water. She brought a wooden box from the bedroom closet and set up the little machine beside the tub, plugged the cord into the electric shaver outlet beside the medicine cabinet mirror.
"You'll have to do," she murmured, attaching the long, thick, rubbery gadget to the flex cable. She pinched the bulbous end which had fanned out feathers and delicate bristles. "If a man had a penis that resembled this, no woman would let him near her twat," she smiled, gripping the handle behind the ludicrous imitation of a man's sex organ. She flipped the switch and watched it rotate slowly. The harder she squeezed on the handle, the faster it turned.
Corbie turned off the water and stepped tentatively into the tub, slowly settling her body into the steaming water. "Oooooo, damn, the hot water lapping against my butt and asshole and pussy just about makes me cum," she sighed. Settling onto her knees, she dipped the gadget into the water, then soaped the feathers and bristles thoroughly.
For several minutes, with the big sausage rotating slowly, she played it over her smooth, high-tilted breasts, concentrating on the taut nipples that swelled to smooth, dark berries, turning redder and redder as they grew more tumescent. "Wish I could suck my own titties," she whined softly, fingers of her free hand kneading the pliant melon flesh.
Slowly, she sat back in the tub, her feet up on the sides, knees spread as far as they would go. "Okay, you ready, pussy? You're about to get a treat; I'm gonna run my little feather duster up you and sweep you out."
With the synthetic prick turning rapidly, she ran it down across her tummy and let it churn in her pubic hair, against her Venus mound. With her free hand, she parted the swollen lips of her pussy to expose her red-glazed vulva.
She kicked and lurched wildly when the spinning dildo whirred into her gash, sweeping her extended clit. "Aaaaiiieeee," she wailed shrilly as she continued to work the feathered tool up and down through her sex-furrow. "Wonder what it would be like to shove this thing up my butt hole and turn it on full force?"
Corbie shuddered violently each time the whirling tool flew past the fluttering curtain that shielded her vagina.
Her feet kicked high in the air as she slammed into an orgasm that sent electrical tingles from her toes into her scalp. She moved her hand in between her satiny thighs and aimed the spinning knob at her hole. "Oooohhhh, better not," she moaned, releasing her grip on the handle so that the long, thick barrel came to a stop. "I better fuck it all the way into my twatty first- before I start it to sweeping."
She used her left hand to spread the blood-gorged petals of her pussy far apart and levered and pried and pushed the artificial prick into her pussy. Slowly, slowly, slowly. "All the way," she groaned, mouth contorted, eyes squinted shut as she concentrated on the slow penetration of her tight cunt with the massive instrument. She applied more pressure with her right hand. "Come on, go past the cervix, you dumb fucker," she moaned, her left hand now probing at her flat belly, trying to feel the monstrous shaft that was bloating her sex-canal.
"This is good," she panted, continuing to burrow the fake prick into her body. "Bet it would be really good, with it spinning in my pussy with -with-with Nola kissing and sucking my titties and Terry licking my asshole, trying to push her tongue up my rectum."
With the big barrel completely imbedded in her tight, coiling snatch, she rested. "I'd even pay Nola if she would let me eat her hair pie and chew on her tittie-tips. If she didn't want to eat my pussy, that would be okay." She wished that Nola were there, in the tub with her, so she could eat her pussy and butt hole while Nola worked the dildo in and out of her throbbing pussy.
Timidly, tentatively, Corbie squeezed the handle. Just the slightest spin of the tube in her tunnel almost caused her to bounce right out of the tub. "Aaaaaggghhhh-aaaieeee," she whimpered, tone a mixture of pleasure and agony. "This thing does that to me every time," she panted, bracing herself and squeezing the handle for a quick spurt of spinning in her twat.
Her vision blurred as a violent climax exploded deep in her loins. Her butt bounced recklessly in the tub and water splashed onto the tile floor. "Jesus, a man's cock can never do that to a gal's hot pussy," she groaned with ecstasy, breath short from the sudden surge of sexual splendor that shook her entire body.
She grasped the handle with both hands and squeezed hard. "Aaaaggggh," she screamed, keeping the pressure on so the object buried in her snatch spun at full speed, the feathers and bristles fluttering maddeningly against the twitching and writhing walls of her vagina. "I can't stand it," she shouted. But she kept it going, drilling and boring inside her quivering cunt.
"It would be absolutely perfect," she howled, "if Nola and Terry were loving my tits and asshole. I'd even settle for a man's cock fucking in and out of my mouth right now. This is heavenly. Blast off, little pussy. Have a hard cum. I'm maaaakkkking it againnnnnn."
Corbie's hot, rounded little ass bounced wildly in the water as she continued fucking herself with the pleasure-pole. "Gotta have just one more delectable climax," she said plaintively, gouging the tool up and down, back and forth in her cunt.
"Fire in my hole." Corbie yelped a sensation of being reamed out with a red-hot pole all the way into her bowels. "Nola," she whined, "Bob Chapman's prick can't do half as much for your pussy as I can," she wept softly, keeping the spinning nut-cracker buried in her clenching cunt. "Wish I had the nerve and the strength to shove this thing up my ass and let it work. I never had a climax in the butt hole . . ."
It was dark when Terry Whitman finished grading papers and getting the next day's lesson firm in her mind. She saw Bob Chapman drive away from Nola's apartment down Faculty Street. "Nola probably got some loving," she pouted enviously. "I guess she's getting his peter pretty regularly-I see his car there every day or two."
She tensed her muscles, pressing her sleek, tapering thighs tightly against her crotch. "I haven't had my pussy popped by a man's prick in ages-just Corbie's hot tongue and her fancy tool inside me. And her tongue-it's really good- isn't long and thick enough."
Tears of frustration welled briefly in her green eyes. She shook her long, red hair back over her shoulders peevishly. "I've just about come to the conclusion Corbie is giving me the come-on and a stall about fun with the boys in the infirmary. She's just promising and promising me so I'll make love with her. I'm getting a little tired of it."
But the thought of the ambitious Corbie, naked and aggressive, laving her titties with her tongue and eating and tonguing out her pussy created a burning desire in her inwards.
Terry brewed a pot of coffee and laced a cup with brandy. "I wonder whether Nola is straight or liberal? I'd like to be watching from some place if and when Corbie ever puts the make on her-like she says she'd like to."
She stood at a side window of the living room and peered thoughtfully toward Nola's. "Corbie says any gal will strip off her clothes and wrestle-eat pussy and suck titties and swallow cock-if the timing is right."
Terry watched a light turned on in Nola's living room, frowned resentfully when drapes were drawn. "I don't think I could go down on a guy and give him a-blow job," she said softly, voice just above a troubled whisper. "In the pussy, a prick is fantastic, though."
Continuing to gaze toward Nola's, Terry let a thought grow in her mind. "If I got Nola over to Corbie's place and Corbie had a chance to make a play at her, would Corbie, then, let me check out some of the boys? I know that football kid is there-with a broken leg. And that wouldn't keep us from fucking. Not like a boy with pneumonia or the flu or something."
From the front porch, Terry could see drapes drawn over lighted windows of Corbie's apartment. She waved to the school superintendent and his wife as they drove away, probably going into Ogden or Salt Like City, she guessed.
Why not? Terry mused, tormented by an itching and craving between her legs that sent burning quivers into her ass hole. If it doesn't work, nothing will be lost, will there? She changed quickly into a green jersey dress-left off her panties. Just in case.
CHAPTER THREE
Still stunned and troubled by what Bob had said-about wishing he were a woman-Nola stood for nearly a minute, staring into the twilight at Terry Whitman. There was wariness in her because of their brief acquaintanceship. She had only been at the school since the term began and had had limited contact with members of the faculty.
"Well, neighbor?" Terry smiled. "Am I barging in? So silly-but I got lonesome and bored with schoolwork. Thank God today is Thursday."
"What's so good about it being Thursday?" Nola countered, spirits lifting slightly as she studied Terry's friendly face.
"Tomorrow is Friday-then school will be out for the entire weekend," Terry said blithely, nodding as Nola motioned her inside.
"Drink?" Nola asked. "I have bourbon and ginger ale or tap water."
"Tap water," Terry said easily. She noticed an open book turned pages down on a table, surmised that that was where Nola sat and took another chair.
"I guess I'm a little lonely and bored myself," Nola supplied, a little wistfully. "Bob was here for a little while, but had to get along."
"You two going to get married?" Terry asked, tone casual. "He's good-looking-as well as rich. And he's fun to be with. I dated him a couple of times. So did Corbie-before you came and corralled the eligible stallion."
Nola reddened instantly and she knew that Terry did not miss the pretty blushing that swept well down into the deep cleavage of her breasts revealed by the deep V cut of her white linen blouse.
"That is a question that hasn't been answered," Nola said candidly. "You know, Terry, I kind of doubt it." She suppressed an impulse to confess what Bob had said about wanting to be a woman-and get all the fucking possible from a lot of different men. Strangely, the idea of Bob undergoing surgery for sexual transformation and having man after man riding between his legs, shafting their rigid penises into his body aroused a lurid excitement in her.
He hadn't mentioned surgery-but how else could he take advantage of male sex partners? She just couldn't visualize the rather short man -just five feet, eight inches-bending over, presenting his behind to a man and taking seven or eight inches of cock up his butt hole and getting his jollies from being cornholed.
"Something wrong between you two?" Terry asked alertly.
"Not exactly," Nola replied, struggling with her frustration and the need to confide in someone. "It just doesn't seem likely marriage bells will toll for me-not with him."
"I can tell you're disappointed-almost depressed," Terry said, resenting Nola for exhibiting a morbid mood. Especially since she had other plans. Plans involving Corbie and the boys in the infirmary. "If you'd prefer to be alone with your misery," she said tartly, "I guess I can go back to my place or over to yak with Corbie."
Nola sat forward instantly in her chair. "Hey, sorry I'm putting out vibrations of the gloomies, Terry. No, don't feel that way. I don't want you to leave. I think what T need is company."
An instant warmth and sympathy flooded through Terry toward Nola. "Want to tell me about it, Honey?"
Nola's smile was tight, brief. "No, I don't think so. In fact, there's really nothing to tell. It's just a feeling I have. It's something Bob said-and didn't say. That's all."
Nola watched Terry shrug her huggable shoulders.
"Say, Nola, would you want to go along with me to visit Corbie? I know she's home and alone. I can see one of her living room windows from my place and I saw a light on."
Nola jousted with a feeling of doubt and wanting to go. "I don't know, Terry. I would like to go -really. Do you think it would be all right? Are you sure she wouldn't prefer to be alone?"
"Heck, I'll call her and ask," Terry said, a little jubilantly. "Corbie and I've been friends for three years. We both arrived on campus the same day. She came from Tulsa, Oklahoma, and I'm from National City, California. Say, I never did hear where you're from."
After Terry checked with Corbie by telephone, Nola said, "Where am I from. How recent or how far back?"
As they left Nola's apartment, Terry looped her arm through Nola's. "As far back or as recent as you like, Nola."
"I came to Utah from four years of school psychologist-counselor in Portland, Oregon. I received my degree from the University of Idaho at Moscow. The same little North Idaho town where I lost my cherry to a top student in the School of Mines."
They walked along in silence for a minute or two. "You don't have to tell me things like that," Terry remonstrated.
"I don't care," Nola said frankly, aware of Terry's hand high on her arm, fingers moving so they pressed against the warm, firm side of her left breast.
"Honey, he mined high-grade ore, I would say from looking at your yummy figure," Terry said with honesty. "I bet there are lots of guys who would like to dig it into your golden tunnel."
"Hah! The way you talk," Nola said, blushing with appreciation and glad it was dark so Terry couldn't see.
"You're blushing," Terry laughed gaily.
"Bah," Nola said in embarrassed protest.
"I can tell by the way the pulse jumped in your tittie," Terry jested, her hand jostling against Nola's boobie.
"Tease," Nola said weakly, feeling defenseless -surprised she didn't mind Terry's hand deliberately rubbing the side of her breast. She followed Terry through the infirmary to the stairs. The matter with me, she told herself, is that Bob didn't fully satisfy me-his not cumming.
Corbie met them as they emerged from the stairwell. "Welcome, oh beautiful captives of the School for Special Children," she greeted, hands on curvy hips, feet apart, slender legs bare below the loose legs of tennis shorts. "I'm glad you came. I just got out of the tub about an hour ago and was getting restless, sipping martinis by myself."
Nola and Terry stepped apart and let Corbie move in between them, loop her arms around their waists. Instantly, Nola recognized that Corbie wasn't wearing a bra under the floppy slipover blouse. She could tell by the way Corbie's full-blossomed boobies jounced enticingly as they walked.
No panties, either, her mind formed the thought. And Nola was silently embarrassed by the independent working of her brain.
Accepting a drink from Corbie, Nola said casually, "I like your apartment. You have a tremendous view."
"Thank you," Corbie curtsied. "Before you came, I was looking at the sky from the west window of the living room. I think I see clouds forming way, way beyond the lake. Maybe it will rain and everything won't be so dry."
Nola was slightly embarrassed when Corbie took a chair across the room from her, knees fanned lazily. Nola was able to peer up the loose legs of the tennis shorts-and see the entire area of Corbie's crotch where a black, crinkly hair forest grew profusely. Although Corbie seemed oblivious to her exposure, Nola had an eerie feeling it was all for her benefit.
"I saw a really amusing sight last night," Corbie laughed, black eyes twinkling. "I made the late rounds, checking on the patients. I wish both of you could have been here to watch with me."
Nola was keenly aware of Terry, sitting in a chair to her right, leaning forward, attention finely tuned. "Well, Corbie, what did you see? Tell us!"
"This boy-he returned to class today-had a touch of stomach flu or something," Corbie said slowly, tone tantalizing. "Well, apparently, he had gotten too warm and had kicked off the spread and sheet. When I entered the room, he was lying on his stomach. You know how these hospital gowns are split all the way down the back? He was bare-assed naked, of course. I went to the bed and was about to cover him up-again and . . ."
"What happened?" Terry pressed.
"I'm telling you-or trying to," Corbie frowned. "Just as I lifted and straightened the sheet and spread, he flopped over on his back. The gown-they're kind of short, any way-was up around his waist. Boy, was that boy naked. And, you know, some of these kids are pretty well hung-if I can employ some little crudities. He must have been having some sensational dreams. I really don't know how to tell you with nice, polite, mixed-society words."
"To heck with the nice words," Terry breathed heavily, quickly. "Go on, tell us."
Corbie sipped her drink, deliberately delaying her narrative, obviously teasing, Nola mused, puzzled by a kindling warmth in her loins.
"His legs were stretched out straight, knees apart, you know," Corbie winked. "His bag of jewels and swizzler were just dangling down against his young bottom. The light was pretty good-and I also turned my flashlight on his gadgetry. His things-" Corbie used a dainty hand to kind of cup, fingertips working.
"His balls?" Terry supplied. Nola glanced at her and was surprised by the wild glitter in her eyes.
"Yeah, his balls," Corbie said frankly, a slight frown creasing her brow, "began kind of rolling around in the scrotum."
"His bag," Terry giggled.
"If you like that word better," Corbie nodded. "His balls began rolling around in his bag, swelling up real plump."
"His peter?" Terry demanded.
Corbie laughed and Nola felt her face reddening, becoming hot and flushed.
"It started very slowly," Corbie said, tone clinical. "There was a very gradual thickening of his penis. All the time it was growing longer and longer. It was kind of fascinating, the way the glans expanded and seemed to crawl right out of the cocoon of the foreskin. But it did, believe me.
"His penis grew more and more rigid, thick and long, until it stood straight up in the air."
"Why don't you say 'cock' or 'prick'?" Terry wheedled, a little tone of annoyance in her voice.
"Oh, Terry," Corbie laughed chidingly. "Very well. The bulgy head of his prick was as slick-skinned as a ripe plum-one of the reddish varieties. And I could see the blood veins all the way down the top and along the sides of his cock. I was all the more fascinating because he doesn't have much pubic hair."
"Oh, fuck, I'd like to have watched that," Terry suddenly blurted lamentingly.
"Tish-your language," Corbie clucked her pink tongue. "Anyway, this kid was lying there on his back-with a huge hard-on-and I was standing there, just watching it flex and quiver. When it became completely full of starch, it flopped down on his flat little belly. It was trembling and twitching. His dreams must have been fantastic. His bottom end began to buck and hunch and gyrate-just like-this is your word, Honey-he was starting to fuck away. But his peter wasn't stuck into anything. I had the only pussy around for some distance and he sure didn't have his peter zipped into my purse."
"Gollleeeeee damn," Terry whined, her butt bouncing up and down slightly on the seat of the chair. "At a time like that, didn't you do anything about it? It was right there-his big, hard cock-all ready."
Nola watched Corbie's level, inscrutable gaze on Terry's excited face: "Sure I did something," she drawled, "I stood there and watched his young cock fuck the air."
"Darn you, Corbie," Terry whined.
"You'd like to have done something with it, wouldn't you, Honey?" Corbie taunted. And Terry grew silent, slouched back in the chair.
And Nola, uncomfortable from the sensual arousal in her own vagina, knew Terry probably would have pounced on the young boy with all the fury of a wanton alley cat. She was bewildered because she wasn't disgusted by the prospect. It was rather exciting-in an illicit, erotic way.
"To continue," Corbie said, triumphantly in command of the moment and the conversation, "I held the beam of the flashlight on his wriggling balls and trembling pecker. He groaned softly in his sleep and his butt began bucking faster, his prick flopping around on his tense belly. Then a convulsing began all along the length of the shaft of his cock, the skin of the head stretched even more and suddenly he shot a tremendous squirt of the thick, pearly stuff all over his belly and his chest. He made a helluva mess of his body and the bed."
"And what did you do then?" Terry demanded.
"I covered him up and left," Corbie laughed.
"I wouldn't have," Terry said softly, voice very low.
"I know you wouldn't have, Honey," Corbie smiled, a hand smoothing the black page boy cut.
Nola was uncomfortably aware of a hot, wet, stickiness in her panties. Corbie's story had turned her on-and she was ashamed and baffled.
And there was something else-it was almost humiliating-Corbie knew she had brought her out.
Before the conversation could pick up again, the telephone rang and Corbie answered it. Hanging up, she told Nola and Terry, "The night LVN is ready to go off shift and I have to make the rounds with her. Want to come along?"
CHAPTER FOUR
Nola and Terry stood to one side while Corbie talked with the nurse. "The kid with the broken leg has been asking for a sedative-says he can't sleep," the LVN said. "And one of the boys says he can't sleep and insists on reading."
"We'll let him read, then," Corbie said professionally. "Did you give the kid some aspirin and a sleeping pill?"
"Just some aspirin. There's no sedative on his chart by the doctor," the nurse said.
"Go on home, I'll take care of things," Corbie told the dumpy nurse. "Okay?"
After the LVN was gone, Corbie unlocked the drugs room and got a capsule, in a little paper cup. "This ought to invite the sandman to visit the football hero. Come on, you two."
Nola and Terry stood just inside the room as Corbie watched the youth with the broken leg swallow the medicine. "Leg's hurting you, huh, and you can't sleep? This will do it. Maybe the cast is a little tight until the swelling goes down."
In the hall, Corbie said, "He'll go blotto in a min."
While they were having coffee in the lounge, Corbie cocked her head to one side. "Hey, I think I heard thunder. Maybe we'll have some rain."
Conversation lagged and Corbie said, "Anyone hungry? I can fix some sandwiches."
Neither Nola nor Terry wanted anything to eat. As Corbie refilled their cups, there was a tremendous crash of thunder that seemed to shake the building. "Now, that was thunder," Nola smiled.
"Not rain thunder," Terry said.
"Our weather expert," Corbie smiled. "You two? I bet I can tell you why that one kid isn't sleeping and wants to read. Wanta bet?"
"Why?" Terry sniffed.
"Ho, ho, ho," Corbie scoffed. "Aren't you the naive little gal, though. Follow me real quiet and let's peek in his room." '
Puzzled, Nola tagged along in the rear as they moved silently down the dimly lit corridor to pause at the glass of the door into the room. Corbie looked in cautiously. "He's still reading. But, I know I'm right. He's already kicked the covers down to the foot of the bed. Let's watch- I'm sure he can't see us, even if he looks this direction."
With their heads bunched, they stared into the room. The reading lamp cast light down the bed, clearly illuminating the boy's figure, his bare legs protruding from the short hospital gown.
"He's reading a sports magazine, but I'll bet his mind isn't on baseball and such-it's on a different kind of sport."
They watched in silence for several minutes. Then Corbie whispered, "He's getting ready. See his left hand sneaking under the hem of the gown ? Terry, you got any idea what he's scratching? I bet you do."
Playing with himself, Nola frowned, feeling she should shrink away-but fascination held her. Her breath caught as the boy slowly tugged the gown high up around his waist, bent his knees and spread them far apart.
"Nice batch of goodies," Corbie whispered triumphantly as the boy's hand cupped and he lifted his testicles and still-limber penis.
"He's gonna jack off, girls," Corbie hooted softly, her arms going around Nola's and Terry's backs-up high so her hands slipped into their armpits, against the plushy sides of their breasts. "Ever watched a kid masturbate, Nola?" she asked, tone slightly goading.
Nola swallowed harshly, shook her head.
"First time for everything," Corbie whispered in her ear, making a little kissing sound. "Just like there's a first time for getting fucked and losing your cherry. Once your fruit has been pluck-fucked, it can never be harvested again."
Timorously, the youth tightened his grip on his genitals, squeezing his balls in their sac until it was smooth-skinned. The knob of his cock expanded as his fingers forced blood into it.
"He's got a good one," Terry gasped as he stretched his cock out.
"Six or seven inches," Corbie said scornfully.
"What's that mean?" Terry challenged. "That's a nice-sized prick in anybody's snatch."
"Hush, you hard-up little hussy," Corbie giggled softly. "Just watch him now. You know, you are right, he's going to have a proud sex-post, once he gets it loaded. Maybe seven or eight inches. Would you like to suck it, Terry?"
"Oh, damn you, Corbie," Terry complained, tone a little flustered.
The youth laid the magazine aside and cupped his husky nuts with his left hand and grasped his peter with his right. A good two inches protruded beyond his fingers and thumb. And Nola thought she felt a faint, hot trickle down the insides of her thighs. Why, she fretted silently, does something like this get me hot? It's just not normal-is it ?
The kid continued jostling his balls in the sac as he slowly flogged his hand up and down on his peter which grew rapidly, stiffening and thickening in his grasp. Even from that distance, Nola could clearly see the glans puffing and gorging. The ridge that formed the corona was immensely thick.
"A real pussy-banger," Corbie whispered harshly.
"Jesus," Terry panted and Nola thought the redhead was about to start fondling her pussy right there. She wasn't sure whose female aroma she smelled-Terry's or her own.
"At full mast," Corbie observed, "now watch his hand fly. Wow! He can really jack off."
"He's gonna shoot his wonderful jizz all over -and not in a pussy," Terry complained.
"Maybe-maybe not," Corbie contradicted.
The boy's facial features were screwed up in a contortion of erotic pleasure as he flogged the thick, tight skin of his cock up over the thick bulb on the end, then back down.
"Damned good long cock," Corbie pointed out. "For a kid."
For anybody, Nola thought, a quivering in her cunt and a flush of heat permeating her slender body.
Suddenly, the boy let loose of his prick and let it lay trembling on his heaving belly. Go on and jack off, Nola was tempted to yell at him, caught up in a strange storm of passion.
But the boy yanked the pillow from under his head and back, wadding it and thrusting it under his buttocks, lifting his almost-hairless crotch high in the air.
"Whoops! Let's watch this," Corbie hissed.
The boy's fat balls completely stuffed his bag and the head of his prick dribbled clear honey onto his tummy. Then he swung his feet back behind his head, hooking his toes in the top railing of the bedstead.
"Ooooohhhh, goddamn," Terry hummed in a fit of erotic sensualism. "He's gonna-he's gonna try to suck his own cock."
After a moment, Corbie corrected, "Not just gonna try-he's gonna do it."
He maneuvered his body into a tight scissor so that the head of his prick pushed against his chin. He cupped a hand under his uptilted rump and pulled.
"He wants every inch he can get," Corbie said softly. "Look at the size of his cock-head."
I'm looking, I'm looking, Nola said silently, her eyes riveted on the boy's asshole and crack and lolling balls and long, fat cock. He used his free hand to lift his prick and his mouth opened and his exploring tongue lapped the cock-plum into his cheek.
I never dreamed a boy could do that to himself, she frowned, admiration and wonder in her sex-heated brain. He began masturbating his hand along the blood-veined barrel as he sucked and tongued the head of his prick. His eyes were squenched shut as he avidly devoured his own sex-tool.
Corbie opened the door just a crack and they could hear the slurp-slurp of his tongue and lips and mouth on the big head of his own prick. His balls yo-yo'ed up and down as his hand flew back and forth on the heavy sex-meat. He didn't miss a stroke as his prick began spasming his jizz into his own mouth.
Nola could see his throat working frantically to accommodate the flood of male sex-sap. His fingers milked out every last drop and she could see his cheeks cave in as he sucked mightily to drain off all of his pleasure-juice.
"Son of a bitch," Terry panted and Nola thought she was going to sag to the floor and attack her own pussy with her clenching hands. "I know boys and girls masturbate-but I never thought I would ever see it. Ooooh, how fucking exciting!"
"Shit," Corbie said, turning them away from the youth who had huddled under the sheet and appeared to be asleep.
Nola felt as if she were in a trance as they returned to Corbie's apartment. The feeling persisted as she accepted the tall, icy drink the small, curvy registered nurse served. There was no doubt about it, watching the youngster play with his peter-even suck it and cum in his own mouth-had a hypnotic effect on her.
There was still an intense, wanton churning deep in her fluid cunt. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could see the boy, body contorted, devouring his own rigid sex-joint as his hand flogged back and forth on the meaty pussy-probe.
If pressed for a response, she would have to agree with Terry that it was a terrible waste of virile cock, a kid beating his meat like that. She wasn't sure but what she would have strode into the room and planted her own ass on his belly and thighs and fucked him off with her pussy. That is, if she had been alone.
The erotic craving was so intense in her mind that she only heard Terry say, "I think I'll get along." The words came to her dully, but registered-with a sense of dread.
"Yes, yes, I suppose I better go, too," she murmured. But she didn't move to get to her feet. And Corbie was sitting across the room from her, legs spread, hairy pussy in evidence.
"No need," Terry said. "Stay and visit with Corbie."
CHAPTER FIVE
Terry almost fled down the stairs, legs trembling, eyes glazed. She wasn't sure, but she thought she had detected tacit consent in Corbie's eyes to-to do her thing. But where to start, where to go-which boy?
She wondered up and down the darkened corridor, the uncertainty bringing her to the brink of tears. "My goddamn pussy is on fire," she whispered plaintively. "I need a cock in me-a young boy's prick that shoots jizz high up in me time after time while I grip his hard meat with my pussy muscles and milk out his love-honey."
Then her sex-dazed mind focused on the boy with the broken leg, the one who had received the sleeping pill. "He's young," Terry mused. "He should be able to get a hard-on and fuck, even asleep. And he'll never know the fun and can't tattle and I can fuck him 'til I fall over."
She was dully aware of heavy cascades of thunder as she sought the boy's room, peered into the gloomy interior and pushed inside.
He was lying on his right side, facing the door, both arms out from under the covers. Struggling with her greed for haste, she placed a wavering hand on his cheek and leaned close to him. "Are you asleep?" A little more loudly, she asked again, "Are you sleeping?"
The small bulb in a night light beside the bed let her see sufficiently that his eyes never flickered. Cautiously, she turned back the spread and sheet and stood for a couple of minutes admiring his long, bare legs, one with a cast to midcalf.
Terry placed a hand on his left shoulder and pushed gently. The boy moaned in his sleep, then turned obediently onto his back. Lust sparked anew in Terry as she studied the slight tenting of the hospital gown at his crotch. "Oh, I pray you got prolific balls and a big cock," she sighed.
She laid a hand on his right thigh and he never moved. Gently, she stroked the hand up and down his leg, from the knee to the hem of the gown. "Oooohhhh, the best part," she crooned softly, her breath coming unevenly, in short pants.
Deftly, she slid her fingers under the gown, down onto the inner plane of his thigh. Up, up, up-closer and closer. Her hand stopped when the tips of her fingers encounter the rubberiness of his peter. "Doggone," she whispered excitedly.
She fondled adroitly, first gauging the size of his young balls in the bag that was sparsely haired. Then she curled her fingers around the limp organ, thumb feeling the inert glans. "I want you to get hard for me," she sighed raggedly, fingers opening and closing on the placid meat. "I feel nerves twittering," she smiled, whisper soft.
But there was no thickening of his flesh. And she refrained from the full strokes of jacking him off, just clenched and unclenched her fingers around his warm penis. "Get long and thick and hard," she implored. With her other hand, she gently folded the gown back and up over his chest.
"Beautiful set of balls and nice cock," she marveled. "Please get hard."
Slowly she worked the skin up and down his peter, but it remained relatively lifeless. "What am I going to do ?" she wailed softly, bending forward to see if there were any sure signs he was going to be brought out. A sense of desperation assailed her as her efforts continued to fail her.
"Damn, damn, damn," Terry panted, hand growing more demanding on what she cherished most. "Please, Cock, get ready for me to fuck you?"
Her tears fell on his smooth belly and she laid her cheek on his tummy, praying silently, her hand still working on his peter. The head there, so close to her face. "My cunt is burning up and you won't get hard to fuck in me."
Then a thought shuddered through her. "No! I never did it before!"
But, she opened her lips, scooted her face downward, tongue dipping out and she closed her mouth around the head of his prick. She sucked timidly at first, then with greater industry as his cock began expanding in her cheeks, pushing them out. And the girth of his rod mushroomed in her hand and a sense of gloating filled her mind. "I'll be able to fuck you after all," her mind crooned.
Terry heard a faint rumbling in the boy's stomach in the ear pressed against his body; in the other she heard the faraway crash of thunder to the east, sharp and ominous. Lightning in the Wasatch Mountains and lightning right here in this dimly lit bedroom, she thought. This is such a wonderful and beautiful thing happening here, her mind sang as she held her face steady, concentrating all of her sensations on the burgeoning cock in her mouth and in her fingers. She could feel the tiny drumming thunder of the boy's pulse in the tips of her fingers.
Her tongue worked to gather the saliva and swallow it and the slight trickle of clear honey from the expanding fountainhead of his fresh, almost virginal prick. She doted on the flavor of raw meat and clean soap and musky saltiness.
I've missed an awful lot of glorious fun, she mused, by not ever having sucked a guy's prick before. I never dreamed going down on cock could be so satisfying. Immediately, she conjectured on what it would be like to fuck as much prick as she could into her mouth, down her throat and take the full blast of his ejaculation. I wonder what cum tastes like?
All the while, his organ was growing like a massive tusk in her face, the bulb becoming mammoth and reaching, seemingly of its own accord, toward the convulsing cavity of her gullet. She was half-mesmerized by the steady creeping of his thickened prick toward the curve of her throat, toward her stomach.
What a tremendous accomplishment, if I were able to absorb the entire length of his pussy puncher in my mouth, she mused, gulping down her saliva and his secretion of sex oil.
Then some doubts were fostered in her mind. The blunt point of his prick nudged the soft palate at the back of her throat and her mouth seemed over-gorged with his sex-meat, arousing a sensation she might choke on his prodigious glob of raw sex-flesh.
Terry's fingers closed tightly on his prong, but it continued to extend and fatten. She felt her cheeks ballooning and she breathed raggedly. I'm gonna take his cock in my mouth and down my throat and fuck the jizz from him, no matter how much it chokes me, she vowed solemnly.
At the time, it never occurred to her that she needn't glut her throat in going down on him and mouth-fucking him. Slowly, she remembered watching the boy who contorted his body and gave himself a blow job; he had only taken a couple of inches of his cock into his mouth-and how he had sucked and slurped his lips and tongue about his swollen member.
Tentatively, she lifted her head from his flat belly, raising his now-rigid and pulsating prick with her mouth. Oh, yes, she thought, that's the way to do it to him. Her right hand cradled his throbbing balls and her left lay on his hard groin bone. She held his erect rod upright with just her hungry mouth. Dully, she could feel the trickle of her own coital juices down the insides of her sleek, creamy thighs.
The burning deep in her vagina lapped into her vulva and tingled delectably in her swollen outer pussy lips. She was torn between the desire to fuck him off with her mouth and to hop onto the bed and sock his cock away in her famished cunt.
But her new-found pleasure of sucking cock convinced her. Slowly, clumsily at first, she began bobbing her face up and down on his heat-glowing rod, savoring the flavor of his clean prick. She adapted quickly, establishing a rhythm of up-and-down fucking of her mouth on his immense dong. I'm really sucking a lot of prick in my mouth, she thought with carnal satisfaction.
Up and down, up and down. Mouth full of cock, mouth full of cock, her mind sang with erotic relish. Her fingers didn't touch his Washington Monument of meat as her face bobbed faster and faster, her throat now consuming inch after inch of his volatile phallus.
Lordy, lordee, I love a prick socked into my throat and I'm getting most of it right now-my first time out. So this is what a blow job is all about, she acknowledged, curling and swishing her avid tongue around his spit-slimed shaft of sex-flesh. I've missed an awful lot by not ever going down on a prick before.
Her entire being was caught up in the glorious fascination of pumping her convulsing mouth up and down on the kid's mammoth prick. It seemed her soul was focused right there in her mouth on the enthralling thrust of meat spear into her throat, goring toward her stomach. She was taking so much of his meat-harpoon into her face she could feel the teasing tickle of his sparse pubic hair against her chin.
"When you cum," Terry gurgled, "I'll dive my face right down to your crotch and take all of your cock." She could sense the building of volcanic forces in his balls and his sex-augur and knew his eruption was growing near. Very, very near.
She grunted and groaned and strained, increasing her pace, fucking her mouth up and down, faster and faster as his cock expanded spastically. You're close, she thought, bobbing her head rapidly, slaving over his cock, gouging it deep into her throat like the horn of a bull.
The first spasm of jizz hit her on a down-stroke and she crushed her face against his groin, gasping at the strength of the flood of thick, hot, sticky semen. Terry was assaulted by a violent vaginal orgasm as she swallowed mightily at the flush of fluid down her throat. Her knees knocked together from the trembling of her thighs which were all soppy from her own emissions of passion.
Oh, God, Kid, her mind wailed, you really send me off into orbit. Too bad you're conked out and can't enjoy having your magnificent cock mouth-fucked. The fingers of her left hand found the base of his sex-stump and began milking out the last trickles of his jizz as his pumping subsided.
"Now don't go soft on me," she glugged, her mouth just holding the bulb of his prick and sucking at the slit in the tip. "I want your wonderful cock up my twat."
Terry continued savoring the fat glans as she used both hands to roll her dress and petticoat up around her waist, leaving her ass and belly and hairy crotch naked. Unsteadily, she climbed onto the bed, hand and lips gripping the joy-tool.
She wobbled forward on her knees to straddle his narrow hips. She pressed her knees into his lean flanks, held his meat-spine upright with her right hand and used her left to part the thick petals of her pussy. With eager expectation, she lowered her ass and slid the knob of his dong back and forth through her torrid vulva. "Aahh," she gurgled with pleasure, nerves tingling when the blunt head raked against her fun-button. "Love it, love it, love it," she cooed. She faltered and her eyes flew wide as she nearly collapsed on him, the head of his cock spearing harshly at her butt hole. "Hey, your cock almost stabbed me in the ass," she whispered. She hesitated. "Would that be so bad?"
Quickly, she abandoned the lascivious thought and positioned the head against the fleshy curtain shielding her vagina. "Maybe I'll do it that way another day." With need and greed and lust, she settled her ass relentlessly, taking inch after inch of his shaft into her tunnel. "I can feel the bigger veins of your prick," she sighed. "I wish you could feel your prick sliding into me and my fuck-muscles gripping your adorable cock."
She ran a finger into the upper tip of her pussy-smile to twiddle her tumescent clit and had to hesitate as she was jolted into a minor climax. "This is what man and woman, boy and girl is all about-fucking, fucking, fucking," she said, a sob of pleasure in her choked voice.
"If you were awake, I'd take off my clothes and have you give me some tittie-love. I like a guy playing with my breasts and pinching my nipples and sucking and teething on them while I fuck him," she breathed, nostrils flaring with mounting passion.
"Aaaaagghhhhh! Aaaaaiiieeeee!" she squalled softly as the firm head of his cock slugged against her cervix, then slid past.
Muscles all along her channel clutched at the invading pussy-penetrator and Terry had to fight back the involuntary physical tendency to orgasm. "I want all your cock buried in my twat before I have another blast," she panted, slowly settling her finely curved butt to absorb and conquer his stud-pole.
"Really tight," she whined pleasurably, squiggling her ass around and around as she slid his dong into her body. "Makes my asshole pooch out." She felt behind her, running her fingers down through the splayed crack between her fanny buns to feel his balls and the way his thick cock stretched the lips of her pussy.
"Son of a gun, what a cannon up my snatch," she moaned. "I'm going to have a tumultuous fuck and I hope you got lots left to gun a whole torrent of jizz in my womb. I just love the tempestuous sensation of a guy's cock going boom-boom in my cunt while I top-ride him and soak my pussy around his big sex-hose."
With his balls cradled in her hand, she pulled them upward and pressed them firmly against her butt hole, an erotic wish to stuff them into her rectum permeating her mind. She deliberately lowered her ass slowly to savor the splendor of having a prodigious, young prick penetrate her pussy.
His thighs trembled, brushing the taut cheeks of her butt and Terry knew she was very near capturing the entire length of his rock-hard organ in her twat. "Oooohhhh, love that young cock up me," she whined softly, wishing he would awaken and grab her tits in both hands.
"Sad, sad, sad," she murmured, her ass cheeks flattened against his muscled thighs. "But that's all the prick you got. And-but-oh, lordee, it's lots." Terry leaned forward, keeping his balls hotly against her rectal entry and ground her clit against his hard groin bone. "Oooohhhh," she panted, mind spinning with erotic fervor, fluttering into a sharp orgasm that sparked in her clit and tingled deep into her convulsing cunt.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on contracting her strong sphincters around the massive cock that corked her cunt. The milking rhythm of her fuck-muscles accented the size of the prick she had stuffed up her snatch. She felt a rush of blood upward from her heaving tummy, into her sharp, hard-tipped breasts that seemed to lift as her passion burgeoned.
"Oooohhh, now we do it-I do it," she moaned, bracing her free hand beside the boy's face and slowly elevating her rear end, savoring the sensation of his long cob sliding out of her pussy.
The muscles in her thighs trembled weakly as she paused with just the massive, purplish head of his cock lodged inside her fluid cunt. Strength deserted her for a moment and her ass plopped down sharply on the boy's impaling sex-spear.
"Aaaaaiiiieeee," she shrilled as the heavy rod shafted into her body. "That was a fuck-stroke that about ripped into my guts," she gasped. "Kid, you have a monster of a cock."
Again she raised her obscenely flattened ass and slid her body back down on his dong. "Wowee," she gurgled. "My cunt is really soppy and your prick slides in and out niiiiice."
Reluctantly, she released his balls and let them flop down between his legs to lie against his rectum. She braced her hands on either side of this head and leaned forward, back stiff and straight.
She hoisted her ass, slid it back down on his prick and rotated her bottom, prying his stiff, thick cock against the stretched walls of her vagina. "Aaaagggghhhh," she growled, throwing her head back, bouncing her ass on him to pop the head of his dick against the bottom of her sex-well.
The pungent odor of cock and cunt and fucking wafted heavily on the air as she began pumping her body up and down on his accommodating cock.
Squish-squosh, slock-slock, his cock slapped into her ravenous sex-hole as she steadily increased her pace until her body was flying up and down on his prick. Each time she slammed her body down against his groin, her clit was mashed and she squealed softly.
Her body heaved forward, his cock sliding out of her, then pounded back, recapturing the object of her affection. As she fucked steadily, she wished he would awaken, roll her over and hammer his cock into her roiling snatch. She yearned to lock her ankles above his lean ass as he labored in her saddle, pinioning her to the mattress with his prick and gave her a sound shafting.
"I'm gonna make it," she whimpered, her ass really flying on his axle. "I'm really wheeling," she yelped as his cock socked into her churning sex-cavity. "Ooooh, how I love to fuck!"
She thought she could feel his husky balls rolled high in their sack, touching and titillating her asshole each time *he banged her rampant ass down on his fun-wand. "You're gonna cum, too ain'tcha?" she gloated, his cock sliding like a piston into her steaming cylinder. She hoped his plug exploded on the downstroke with the head snagged behind the cervix, against the bottom of her twat.
A pulsating in his barrel told her to hurry and make it. A myriad of lights flashed behind her closed eyes and electricity was snapping and crackling deep in her innards. His prick seemed alive in her cunt as her pussy muscles coiled and writhed around his rigid snake.
She timed it just right, slamming her ass down hard, punching his prick deeper into her pussy than ever before as his cock flexed and spasmed and torrent of hot lava into her womb.
With his prick buried to the balls in her convulsing cunny, she leaned forward, gently pressing her breasts against his heaving chest. He snored deeply and she kissed his mouth, forked her tongue between his teeth and tickled the roof of his mouth. "This always makes a cum more exciting," she whispered, "French kissing while my cunny-cannon goes boom-boom and his torpedo blasts me into heaven."
Her ass rotated on his spindle long after he had stopped squirting jizz into her heaven-hole, the cunny muscles just milking out all his sap, which escaped in little trickles around his cock and dribbled over his balls, into his ass crack to glaze his butt hole.
"Wonder what Corbie and Nola are doing?" she breathed dully, a placid contentment warm in her mind.
CHAPTER SIX
"That's a lot of lightning," Nola fretted, cocking her head to listen. "It could set fires in the mountains."
"Probably," Corbie agreed, "but I bet that lightning is like a Fourth of July sparkler compared with that sweet Terry is stirring up somewhere right now."
"Oh? What?" Nola puzzled, then the implication struck her and she knew her face flushed slowly. Recalling the redhead's reaction to Corbie's story about watching the boy have a wet dream and seeing the kid masturbate, she presumed Terry was somewhere in the school infirmary, venting her passion on some young boy's prick.
She really didn't want any more to drink, but she silently accepted the fresh one Corbie mixed. She wished-and she didn't-that Corbie wouldn't sit like that, across the room. She could see up her shorts' legs and see her hairy crotch, the curly hair bushy and black.
"Are you and Bob Chapman having a little affair?" Corbie asked solemnly, a faint smile on her lips.
Nola didn't reply, but her face seemed to glow with heat. And she knew that Corbie read the truth.
"That's all right, Nola honey," Corbie said candidly. "A girl needs sexing regularly-especially if she is rather isolated as we are here at the school. We don't get out on a steady basis and our social life is limited. I think that is why Terry has developed this strong yen for the young boys here at the school. I know my sexual needs are more excessive than if I were living and working in town. And my desires might be called perverted by some people who don't understand."
Nola watched Corbie spread her knees even wider to increase the exposure of her pubic region. "I confess that I don't fully comprehend what you mean," she said weakly, perplexed by the strange enchantment of peering at Corbie's exposed pussy.
"Don't you?" Corbie challenged, wrinkles in her brow, lips curled downward into a poutish frown. "I'll say it real plain for you then. I can have all the stud meat in my cunt I want-the young boys who come into the infirmary, the doctor who comes out to treat them, the school's attorney, the bookkeeper, visiting fathers, the men teachers and even the school superintendent. But I have a fondness for another loving woman."
"Lesbianism?" Nola put a label on it, surprised she didn't react with shock, dismay and revulsion. Instead, there was an excited nagging, jangling of nerves in her loins. Sex with another girl? Independently, it seemed, her mind framed the lascivious, lewd thought: What would it be like, having another girl make love to her?
And is that what Corbie is trying to lead up to? Nola wondered timidly. With me? I should jump to my feet and run.
"Yes, I'll have another drink, Corbie," she said tonelessly. I don't want to run? What the hell is the matter with me? Her eyes blinked and her vision was blurred. Did Bob's talk about wanting to be a woman create some lascivious frame of mind in my brain. I'm straight, aren't I? She squinted her eyes, staring more keenly at Corbie's crotch, not having noticed that the black-haired pixie had pushed the crotch of her shorts to one side so that her sex-crease was laid open to scrutiny. And she does want me for a partner, Nola scowled.
And I'm not running . . .
The glitter in Corbie's black eyes left Nola feeling weak, helpless and trapped-with an alien excitement coursing through every vein and along every nerve.
Nola sat unmoving as Corbie lithely stood and strolled across the room, placing her hands on the arms of Nola's chair and leaning toward her. Nola peered for a moment into Corbie's solemn, expressionless face, then her gaze swept downward inside Corbie's blouse to stare at the ripe cones dangling free.
"Would you do me a favor, Honey?" Corbie asked softly.
Nola's brain seemed to spin and she licked her lips as she stared at the dark aureoles and pointy nipples that tipped Corbie's perfect breast-fruit. Whatever it was, she knew she should refuse, should push Corbie aside and rush out of the apartment and flee to the safety of her own quarters.
"What do you want me to do?" Nola asked huskily-knowing something of what Corbie had in mind.
"I'd be so grateful," Corbie whispered, her face just inches from Nola's her breath hot and sweet against Nola's dry lips. "Did watching that boy twist himself out of shape and jack off and give himself a blow job do something for you? I know it did! Honey," Corbie said even more softly, her face almost brushing Nola's, "if you ever want to get a little servicing from some of the kids-or others I mentioned-just let little Corbie know. Okay?"
Nola felt that her throat was so dry she couldn't answer. Her entire body seemed enveloped in a feverish blanket. If Corbie tries to kiss me, what should I do?
Her answer immediately followed the question as Corbie pressed her soft lips to Nola's, sucked gently and ran the tip of her hot, wet tongue back and forth. Nola's mouth opened slowly and Corbie's tongue crept inside to tease her own into squiggling and curling and darting in and out of Corbie's vacuuming mouth.
"Ooooohhhh, we shouldn't do things like this, Corbie," Nola whined, a sense of misery and shame worming into her mind.
"Tish," Corbie breathed, an arm curling around Nola's neck so that she could French-kiss the beautiful blonde forcefully. "You will do me that favor won't you, Honey?"
Nola was unaware that her arms rose and her hands rested on Corbie's hips, slid behind the diminutive brunette to pat and caress and knead the firm roundness of her butt moons.
"I guess so," Nola gasped for breath, sucking on Corbie's swishing, swirling, snaking tongue in her mouth.
"Come on, Honey, I'll show you," Corbie crooned happily, taking Nola's wrists and urging her to her feet.
Feet seeming to drag, Nola let Corbie lead her toward the back of the apartment, into the bedroom. Her mind felt numb and bewildered as she watched Corbie strip down naked.
"Wait right here, Honey, I'll be right back," Corbie laughed merrily, skipping out of the bedroom. In seconds, she returned to hand Nola a can and a safety razor. Gillette Foamy, Nola blinked dumbly at the objects in her hand. "Know what I want you to do? What I need?" Corbie pressed. "I think you do, Honey. Please get up on the bed, your feet toward the head-get over a little bit and let me on."
Nola stood on her knees and watched Corbie stretch out beside her, scissor her legs and fan her knees wide. "Honey, take it off-take it all off!"
Nola swallowed hard. She had never had her eyes so near another woman's sex region-especially presented to her in such an obscene posture. And she did not know what Corbie wanted. "I-don't know-Corbie."
"Suuuuurrreee, you do, Nola," Corbie giggled, hunching her butt upward, making little coital bumps with her lovemound and fully exposed pussy. The lips seemed glued together in a tight, inscrutable smile. The Venus mound was plump and profusely forested; the coarse, curly hair grew wildly down between Corbie's legs, almost to her anal entry. The outer lips of her vulva were prominently bloated.
"I'm not sure," Nola gasped. "I never have done anything like this."
"You can do it," Corbie encouraged, patting Nola on the fanny, fingertips teasing the tight crevice. "Take your time and enjoy your sartorial endeavors. Get every single hair."
"Listen to that thunder and the striking lightning," Nola fretted, uncertain, delaying as long as she could.
"Nothing to what will be happening here-between us, Honey," Corbie chortled. "Please do me, Baby."
Still, Nola hesitated, body trembling as she felt a hand undo the button at the band of her skirt. Then the zipper skidded slowly, down the crack of her ass. The skirt gaped and sagged away from her waist. "Oooohhh, Corbie! What are we doing?"
"Hush, Honey-love, and do what I want you to. Please?"
Nola remained unmoving as Corbie tugged the skirt and half-slip down her quivering thighs to the crook of her knees. The breath whistled through her nose as Corbie's cool hands rolled her panties down her tapering thighs. And her ass was bare to Corbie's glittering eyes.
"Gorgeous butt," Corbie breathed, her hands playing over the smooth globs of firm flesh. "What a nice, deep crack you have." And she ran her fingers into it, teasing against Nola's butt hole.
"Aaaahhhh, noooo," Nola protested, body trembling. But she remained motionless.
"Go ahead and do me, Honey," Corbie implored. "Don't worry about getting lather and hair on the sheet-it needs laundering anyway."
At Corbie's unspoken insistence, Nola maneuvered her body and legs so that Corbie could strip away her clothes. And she shook the can, aimed it between Corbie's spread thighs and pressed the button. There was a sharp hiss and Corbie's pubic area was flooded with fluffy foam. Whipped cream on her hair-pie, she thought feeling as if she were having a weird dream or were hypnotized. Slowly, she moved the can in a rotary motion, spraying Corbie's crotch full. A sudden thought tickled her. "Hey, your pussy-cat has hydrophobia!"
Nola squealed suddenly as Corbie forced a hand in between her thighs and stabbed a finger into her pussy and another deep into her asshole. "Heeeeeyyyyy," Nola yelped, her eyes opening wide. A torrid flood of pleasure rippled through her guts and her pussy as Corbie wiggled her fingers in her two holes.
"Fun, huh? You like that, don't you, Nola?" Corbie laughed, finger-fucking her ass and cunt simultaneously.
Nola didn't answer, but bent her face toward Corbie's crotch and firmly raked the sharp razor from the fringe at the top of her love-parapet to the upper crinkle of her pussy-smile. She turned the razor over to use the other edge and mowed off a swath from inner thigh to inner thigh. Then she opened the razor slightly and wiped off the glistening tendrils of pussy hair on the side of the sheet.
Meticulously, she shaved all the hair from the thick, bloated lips, going back over the region several times. Corbie whimpered when Nola pressed her ass cheeks down so she could get the wisps of hair that grew near the dark brown, crinkled anus.
"Jesus, I almost cum when your fingers touched my butt," Corbie whimpered, her ass lurching coitally.
Nola pushed her fingers into Corbie's torrid vulva to stretch out the thick petals to slick-shave her curvy sex-area. "Never shaved a pussy before -I like it," she panted.
But what I think I really like is the way you're finger-fucking my pussy and my asshole, Nola thought dreamily, a fire raging in both of her holes.
She lifted an edge of the sheet and wiped off the excess lather and stared at Corbie's shorn pussy. Timidly, she ran the tips of her fingers over the little love-pillow and the thick, pulpish lips that guarded her sex-mouth. Corbie's butt hunched and lurched and bucked under her caresses.
A hairless pussy looks so innocent and pure, she thought, cupping Corbie's crotch area and working a thumb inside the vulva, nudging her erect clitoris that had emerged from its dainty sheath.
"Aaaaaggghhhh," Corbie gasped, ass bucking as Nola gouged two fingers as far as she could up Corbie's cunt. A satanic satisfaction burned through her as she plowed her fingers ruthlessly into Corbie's defenseless snatch, feeling the oils of passion coating them. Corbie up-fucked erratically when Nola scratched at her clit with a thumbnail. "Eeeiiieee," Corbie screamed. Her feet kicked high into the air when Nola stabbed the middle finger of her other hand to the fist-knuckles into her bowels.
Instinctively, Nola crawled over Corbie, her knees hard against the sides of Corbie's firm, jutting breasts. She settled her rear end and felt Corbie's jerky breathing on the inner planes of her thighs. And Corbie took her fingers from her rear canal and cunt and Nola felt her hot, tepid breath in her fanny ravine and against the sagging, open pouch of her pecker-receptacle. She sat down firmly, her crotch smothered over Corbie's pixie-face. Eat me, Nola was inclined to shout triumphantly, but already Corbie had opened her dainty mouth and she was kiss-sucking her butt hole and her tongue was waggling and licking through her fuck-trench, the tip paying loving homage to the sharp little fun-thorn.
I'm going to climax, Nola thought, mind swirling dreamily as Corbie snaked her tongue, scooplike, deep as she could into her twatty-cove. By Corbie's groaning and butt-writhing, Nola knew her love-partner was reeling through a cum. And Nola attacked her butt hole and cunt almost brutally with her fingers.
"Cuuummm," Corbie screamed and Nola shook her ass around on Corbie's face, reveling and rejoicing in the jubilating sensation of tongue up her cunt and dabbling at her clit.
"Stick a finger up my steamy snatch and work your tongue into my ass," Nola howled, her innards retching deliriously. She felt Corbie stretch her butt cheeks apart, opening the way to her bowels and stabbing her tongue into her asshole. She went all the way off when Corbie reamed three or four fingers far into her pussy.
A brazen, cunning thought squirreled into her mind and Nola picked up the shaving cream can, shook it briskly and aimed the spout into Corbie's snatch.
"Aaaaggghhh!" Corbie screamed as the thick foamy was jetted into her twat. Nola kept pouring in until Corbie's fuck-canal was full and her pussy over-flowed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
No one in the canyon needed a newspaper or radio or television report the next morning. The fire was evident in the Wasatch Mountains. A broad billow of smoke lay like a rumpled pillow against the sky, a grey and dirty brown.
By midafternoon, it could be smelled. Borate bombers made pass after pass at the lightning-set fire or fires. Fire fighters were being recruited in Idaho, Oregon, New Mexico and Arizona-but those states had several fires of their own.
The governor ordered the National Guard on alert and a move was started to mobilize college and high school students for the less hazardous operations. At the moment, there was little to be done effectively-the first or fires were in terrain that was inaccessible from the ground and too rugged for jumpers.
Nola was mystified and grateful the next day that she had no feelings of self-recrimination about her experience with Corbie the night before. Instead, there was a serenity in her mind and a sense of satisfied fulfillment in her body- especially up her butt where Corbie had had her finger and her avid tongue.
When Bob Chapman parked in front of her apartment in midafternoon and strode up the walk, she let him in, surprised by the coolness she felt toward him. She accepted his fleeting kiss casually and brought coffee from the kitchen.
"How bad is the fire?" she asked.
"It's going to get worse," he frowned. "It could blow right over the high ridge and come right down into my development-that would just about wipe me out. But I'm arranging to bring in an independent fire-fighting agency and I've talked to the school superintendent here about recruiting the older boy-students. Some forty have agreed to help. Say, what makes this school so 'special'?"
Nola smiled at him. Maybe Terry could answer that, she thought, wondering if the redheaded English teacher would ever tell her-in detail- what she had done after leaving Corbie's apartment. "Just a prestige approach to attracting rich kids," she said, shrugging, "Oh, there are some problem kids here-assigned by the courts. It's just a private school, that's all," she finished.
Bob peered at her solemnly across the brim of his cup. "You know what I was talking to you about yesterday?"
Nola's heart lurched with excitement. He's changed his mind about that nonsense-about being transformed into a female. "Yes," she said softly . . . I'm glad you see how foolish that is.
"Last night, I had a conference with a doctor at a private Ogden clinic-about having it done," Bob said, his eyes snapping with excitement. "He said it would be relatively simple. He said he can get a surgeon in from Denver for me."
"Oh, Bob," Nola groaned with disappointment. "You don't really want that." Boldly, she said, "You have such a magnificent set of genitals- really fabulous cock and big balls. Just think about how much you'll miss-" she tried to excite him "getting a big hard-on, climbing on top of a naked woman-in between her legs and having her defenseless and lunging your monstrous prick up her pussy."
But her words seemed to go right past his ears. "The doctor said special hormone treatments can produce good-sized knockers and I'll have a pussy just like any woman and men can fuck me."
You're deranged, Nola frowned, shivering from an inner chill of disgust toward him. "You mean you want to be dominated by males, have them wrestle their hairy torsos between your legs and hold you down-some of them with booze on their breaths and smelling of stinky sweat-and shove their cocks into your body?"
She looked away when he nodded avidly. She was tempted to tell him to go find some stud and to take off his clothes and bend over and let the guy shove his cock up his ass and cornhole him. But she merely rose to bring more coffee.
Nola answered the phone, listened, said, "Right away," and hung up. "I have to go over to the infirmary," she told Bob. "Will you be by tonight -or keeping tabs on the fire?" Inexplicably, she hoped he wouldn't be around. Maybe she and Corbie could visit again. As she followed Bob down the sidewalk, her mind sang. Maybe Terry would be available, too.
She was met by Corbie in starched nurse's uniform. "In the office," Corbie said flatly. "The superintendent is here, too."
"What's up?" Nola asked, frowning as Corbie patted her rump playfully.
"One of the boys sent to the school by the State was caught-was caught smoking pot in the boys' restroom. And you're supposed to explain the error of his ways and convince him never to do it again and scare the begads out of him about how hazardous it is to his health."
Corbie closed the door and the superintendent pointed to a youth slouched in a straight chair. "This is Quentin," he said. "Quentin, this is Miss Jones. I want you to talk to her. You know, level with her about what you were doing. Okay ?"
Nola drew up a chair and sat, slightly facing the youth who was obviously a little hostile and frightened. She appraised him quickly, from the well-muscled arms folded across his husky chest, to the lean waist and hips and strong legs that filled the legs of his Levi's.
His gaze flitted to her face and away. "We'll talk," she said, not looking around, dismissing the superintendent. She waited until the head of the school hesitated at the door. "Nurse Stephens, I want you to stay-for awhile," Nola said. Is it just this boy, or am I just starting to notice things'? she wondered, her eyes resting on the prominent tenting of his jeans, the buttons stretched. She waited until Corbie sat down behind her. "How old are you, Quentin?"
"Almost fifteen," the boy said tersely. "Smoking pot, huh?" He shrugged.
Without looking back, she addressed Corbie, "I wish the doctor were here to make a routine examination."
"Like what kind of examination ?" Quentin demanded, a hand rubbing across his narrow face and pushing his long, sandy hair back from his face.
"Oh, blood pressure, draw a blood sample, run a urine test, pulse beat, heart check. Those kind of things," Nola smiled into his face, inviting confidence and friendliness.
"I can do all of those except make the various blood tests," Corbie said. "Even the doctor would take the blood to Ogden or Salt Lake to a lab."
Nola stood and strolled around the room, finally perching on the desk in front of the youth. "Where do you want to check him, Corbie?"
"The room at the end of the corridor, the one that opens onto the regular examination room," Corbie said. "It's the room we use for patients to recover from having splinters and hangnails removed." Her voice was bantering. "Come along, Quentin."
Nola followed Corbie and the youth into the room, stood patiently as Corbie tossed him a hospital gown. "Put this on and go through this door. Come on, Nola."
A few minutes later, the boy stuck his head through the door. "Hey, this thing is ripped down the back and don't hardly cover me."
"Don't worry about it," Corbie snapped. "Let's get this over with. Okay?"
Timidly, the youth stepped into the room, one hand holding the gown closed at his rump, the other trying to stretch the shorty-gown down his thighs to conceal his genitals.
"On the scales first," Corbie said. "Five-feet, eight-inches; one-hundred, fifty pounds. On your back, on the examination table," Corbie ordered.
As the youth struggled clumsily to preserve his modesty, Nola caught a glimpse of dangling balls and limp penis. "Hell," the boy muttered, flustered and tugging the gown down his legs.
Deftly, Corbie drew two vials of blood from a vein at the bend of his elbow and loosened the tourniquet hose. "That didn't hurt, did it?" She next checked his blood pressure. "Now sit up so I can check the ticker and pulse," she said.
Again, as the kid swung his bare legs over the edge of the table, Nola got a fleeting look at his peter and balls. And a strange fluttering sent dazzling flashes of heat through her chest.
Goddamn, she fretted, am I getting a hang-up like Terry? Could I-would I-take advantage of a teenaged boy like this? Then Corbie was handing the boy a bottle. "Step into the bathroom and pee in the bottle."
Nola stared sharply for another glimpse of the kid's sex organs, but he succeeded in covering himself and slipped backward into the bathroom. "We'll give him the old Army short-arm test," Corbie grinned impishly at Nola. "Did you notice he's pretty well-hung?"
Nola looked away, certain that the blush of heat in her face told Corbie that, indeed, she had noticed his male eggs and omelet-beater. "Yes, you certainly did." Corbie giggled, stepping around the table to kiss Nola quickly on the mouth and pinch her hard, feverish titties.
In a couple of minutes, Corbie called, "Hey, Quentin, come on out here." When he appeared sheepishly, she said, "Set the bottle of pee on that table and come over here." When he stood doubtfully before Nola and Corbie, Corbie asked brusquely, "Ever made it with a girl? Any chance you may have picked up a social disease? Well, no matter whether you want to brag or complain or not, I want to see if your dingus has the dribbles. Use both hands and pull the gown up around your waist."
"Hey! Hell! Oh, no. Not in front of you two women?" the boy protested, voice whining, desperate, embarrassed.
"You do it-or I'll do it," Corbie shook her head. "Up with the gown. Right now."
With eyes pleading, he slowly seized the hem and lifted the gown to expose his dangling gonads and limp pecker. "You look clean," Corbie said. "Whether you have or not, I bet that a lot of girls would appreciate that-if they knew you had it."
Nola felt numb and licentiously stimulated as she watched Corbie pat the youth on the hard buttocks, take his peter in one hand and milk it downward toward the floor. For several minutes, she used her hand on his peter, fingers squeezing and milking, forcing blood into the limp glans. She kept her voice professional, "I don't detect any squirmy VD germ evidence."
Nola thought she detected a faint swelling in the boy's peter under Corbie's expert manipulation. Her breath was painful in her chest as she watched the RN take the boy's testicles in her hand and rubber them around, deliberately jostling his young peter. "Any pain in what I'm doing?" Corbie asked.
"Noooo," the boy choked out the word. And Nola saw a trembling in his long legs, tendons crawling in his thighs.
Corbie dropped his balls and opened a drawer, taking out a rubber glove. She thrust her hand into it and coated the middle finger with Vaseline. "Now, Quent, I want you to spread your feet apart, bend over and put the palms of your hands on the floor. Okay? Do you understand?"
When he hesitated, she opened the garment and slapped him sharply on the butt-buns. "Bend over, Buddy boy. One more test, then you can take a shower and get into bed. Now-bend over, like I told you."
Awkwardly the kid spread his legs, bent forward and supported himself on his hands.
Nola leaned far to her right as Corbie squatted behind the boy, one hand on the upper flare of his hips. She grinned at Nola, drew her arm back like an archer, fist doubled except for the middle finger and aimed at his ass.
She smeared some of the lubricant up and down his crack, then, fingers nudging his dangling balls. She peered across his proffered rump and winked at Nola. Her lips formed the words, Nice set of balls and good pecker.
Corbie gently touched his anus with the tip of the gloved finger and screwed it back and forth. The kid groaned.
"Don't tense up on me," Corbie said, pushing her finger. The kid keeled forward. "Hey, hold still." She tried again and he retreated from her. "Enough of that," she laughed, slapping him on the bottom. She reached between his legs and grasped his cock and balls. At the same time she skewered her finger to the hilt in his asshole.
Nola felt a rising, consuming passion being stoked in her cunny as she watched Corbie massage the boy's ample genitals and work her finger back and forth in his butt.
"Ooooohhh," the kid whined, his head shaking from side to side.
He could get hard in a minute, Corbie's lips formed the words for Nola to read.
Nola leaned her face close to Corbie's. "How big do you think his cock is?" she whispered softly in Corbie's left ear.
"Six or seven-maybe eight inches," Corbie whispered back, ending with a quick kiss on Nola's parted lips. "Want to take him on? Get him to fuck his young dick up your passion-chute?"
Nola didn't reply, leaned back weakly on the stool, watching Corbie continue squeezing and tormenting the kid's bag of goodies and lengthening lollipop as her finger fucked in and out of his asshole.
At last, she stood up, jerking her finger from his canal and releasing his genitals. "You saw the shower in the bathroom, Quentin? There is a towel on that high shelf. Take a hot shower for me. Miss Jones will talk to you later."
When they heard the shower running, Corbie took Nola's elbows and urged her to her feet. Instantly, she embraced her, their breasts flattened together and Corbie began a long, lingering kiss, their tongues flying and slurping, teeth nibbling on lips. "I have been known to cum while French-kissing," Corbie whispered. "I really dig it, sucking tongues and swapping spit."
A buzzer rang and Corbie stepped away from Nola. "Damn, there's someone at the desk. I'll be back as quickly as I can. Keep tabs on our young stud."
Nola paced nervously, wishing Corbie would return, that the boy would finish showering. Yes, she would like to take on the kid. How could Corbie know so many things? Maybe she should be the school psychologist counselor.
She was jolted from her reverie by a startled yell in the bathroom. She sprang to the door and yanked it open. The shower was still on, but the boy was stretched out across the floor. Nola turned off the water and knelt beside the unconscious youth.
He must have fallen, she frowned. His pulse seemed all right. So were his eyes. She turned him onto his back and placed a folded towel under his head. And there was a lump on the left temple. Just knocked out. she thought prayerfully, wishing Corbie would come back.
She took down another towel and began drying the boy's body. Then she hesitated with her gaze riveted on his genitals. Such a nice peter and big balls, her mind advised her. With a trembling hand she dried his groin region. And- whoom-his peter stretched like a lazy snake.
It grew longer and fattened perceptibly. "A curious snake," Nola intoned, fascinated by her inspection of his organ. She tossed away the towel and took up his pecker in a nervous hand. His balls yo-yo'ed as she gripped his meat.
As she stared at the quivering thing in her hand, the memory returned of watching the boy, body jackknifed, sucking on his own peter the night before. Nola swallowed nervously.
The turn of her mind was almost frightening and her eyes wouldn't blink as she stared at her hand, fingers wrapped around the young boy's responding penis. Was it an aberration or curiosity? she worried. Could she do it? Would she do it? Did she, in some secret warp of mind, want to do it?
Unbidden, her hand moved, peeling the foreskin far back away from the glans and her tongue flicked out as she stared at the dark glans, delicately pear-shaped.
Softly, she said, "His peter is so warm-almost scalding hot." She gripped the limber tube firmly and lifted it up and away from his inert legs. His husky balls climbed in their crinkle-skinned sac.
"Oh, God, I must be going crazy," she moaned, senses reeling. "How can I even consider doing that-this? Always before in my life, the idea of playing with a male's sex organs was repulsive. Yet-I'm doing it."
Her hand rode smoothly back and forth on his burgeoning barrel and there was a singing gloating of conquest and accomplishment as her hand slowly brought him out. "What will I do with it- to it-if I get it hard and erect? And what if Corbie should return-right now?"
Nola's mind seemed to be entering a dazed and hypnotic state. She seemed obsessed with what she was doing to the boy's peter, entranced as she watched it swell slowly, the balls balloon and stretch the wrinkled sac smooth like an orange.
She slid a hand into his crotch to cuddle his balls and the other held his hunk of meat up at the base. As if enslaved by some perverse force. Nola leaned forward, her heels together, dug into her sex-lace. "I'll try," she whined, "I'll do it." Her eyes stared glassy, slightly crossed, at the rubbering hose and dark tip. Her lips parted, her tongue moistened them. She paused and just the tip of her tongue flicked at the snake's eye in the tip. Her mouth opened wider, wider, wider. And she lowered her face. "Ughhh, hgh, hunhhh," she coughed as the full rubbery tip flecked against the soft palate of her mouth.
And Nola slowly closed her lips around his peter, sucked in her cheeks against his meat, tensed her tongue to push the hot bulb against the roof of her mouth. She drew a deep, ragged breath through her flaring nostrils and sucked mightily on his rapidly expanding prick. Her hands kneaded and caressed and milked on his balls and around the thickening base of his cock.
Her eyes stared at the hand working on his balls and the one jacking off his cock, her thumb jogging against her chin. A trickle of saliva escaped her lips and her tongue danced out to recapture it. There was a pagan crooning in her brain as she began rocking her body back and forth, her face adapting to the rhythm of the hand that was flogging up and down on his now-rigid cock.
I'm mouth-fucking him, she acknowledged, an uncanny sense of elation singing in her head, her ears thundering. And she bobbed her head faster and faster, swishing her tongue around the thick point and swirling it around the fat shaft on the downward thrust.
The elation of a new experience sent shivers of orgasmic pleasure cascading through her loins and her pussy burned, her asshole itched.
She tried every time she down-fucked her vacuuming mouth on his pulsating prick, but she was unable to take it down her throat. The head hitting the back of her throat had a stifling, choking, gagging effect. But she knew she loved the exhilarating sensation of going down on the kid, giving him a blow job.
I like sucking cock, she admitted frankly to herself.
"Good grief, go at it, Honey," she heard Corbie behind her. "That's the way to suck prick. Eat him like crazy, Gal. Go at it. Can you take all his cock in your mouth-you know, swallow it?"
Any other time in her life, she would have jumped away from the lascivious thing she was doing, but Corbie's words and tone urged her on and she sucked his cock with increased fervor, slurping loudly as she sucked the honey from the head of his prick.
She felt Corbie kneeling behind her, put her hands up under her dress to fondle her ass cheeks. Corbie was hauling her panties down from over the long, shapely moon-globes of flesh and her ass was bare. Corbie's hands urged her thighs apart so she could get at Nola's sex-pouch.
Wonderful, Nola thought, sucking ravenously on the boy's long, thick dong, Corbie's going to finger-fuck my pussy and my asshole.
Corbie tossed the hem of Nola's skirt up across her back for free access to her cunt. Nola murmured her pleasure when she felt a couple of Corbie's fingers probe deep into her vagina. Then they were withdrawn and Corbie was probing at her cunny with something sturdier than fingers and her mouth was suctioned onto her bulging asshole.
Nola's back straightened and stiffened at the pressure exerted against her vaginal entry and almost swooned with pleasure as Corbie swabbed her tongue against her anal pucker. She continued sucking ravenously on the boys' sex-plumbing. Dully, she knew that Corbie had gotten a dildo from somewhere and was cork-screwing it deep into her clutching cunt.
Give me nine inches, Nola wanted to beg, but she had a mouth full of cock that was expanding and spasming and a flood of thick jizz hit her tonsils with a gush and she was busy swallowing cum and sucking prick and having a heavenly cum.
Especially when Corbie flipped the switch and there was a wild vibration shattering her in-sides. Nola felt that her cunt was exploding, that her asshole was burning like Rome in Nero's time. And Corbie continued fiddling her tongue up her rectum ...
And-Goddamnit-the kid was coming to.
"You had a fall, Quentin," Corbie said gently, "let us help you into your gown and get you to bed."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Despite the shame and guilt Nola struggled with, she talked with Quentin for nearly two hours Saturday morning-about pot. Not condemning it, certainly not encouraging it. One consoling factor was that there was nothing in his eyes to indicate he knew or remembered what she had done to him.
She just knew she would have died if there had been anything in his face or eyes that he knew she had gone down on his cock and sucked the jizz out of him. But he was quiet and polite and cooperative and told her that smoking pot was no big thing with him.
Her eyes rested on the slight tenting of the sheet and spread where his legs joined his pelvis. You got a big thing there, you oughta focus your fun-time on the best use possible of it.
"No big thing, huh? Pot. I'm glad, Quentin.
It's a foolish risk, messing around with drugs," she said. "You can do better things with your life and free time." To herself, she said, you can do bigger and better things with your cock.
She did not see Corbie when she left to return to her campus apartment-and was sort of glad and sort of disappointed. Strolling across the green campus, she meditated on what she had done-the first blow job she had ever given any boy or man.
For a moment, she paused to study the distortion of the color of the eastern sky. It seemed the smoke reached much farther south, toward the Utah capital, and north in the direction of Brigham City. She hadn't heard any recent reports.
A little uneasy, she turned again toward her apartment, her thoughts sliding unbidden to her own situation here-specifically to the inexplicable ease with which she had committed herself to sexual aberrations in such a short time.
Yet, now, there was no real sense of guilt- not after her consultation with Quentin and the assurance that he had no knowledge of what she had done to him while he was unconscious on the bathroom floor. Fitfully, she wondered whether she would have gone farther if he hadn't regained consciousness. Would she have removed her panties and mounted him like an alley cat and used his strong, young prick in her feverish pussy?
Is it possible, she fretted, letting herself into her quarters, that Bob's disturbing confession had broken some cord that kept her morals in check? And-Bob? She wondered what he would think about it? And her, if he knew?
Nola mixed a tall bourbon and water and slumped into her favorite chair in the living room. Is he really dedicated to undergoing that sex-transformation operation? What-her mind surged with electrical excitement-if she gave him the business? Went down on him? Gave him a hot, juicy blow job? Would that, maybe, make him change his mind?
Nola pranced to the kitchen, opened a fresh carton of cigarettes and returned to her chair, drawing deeply on the Winston.
She frowned for a moment. What if it didn't? Then she rubbed away the scowl-wrinkles with the tips of her fingers. So what if it didn't? A mystical flame seemed to burn in her mind and her belly at the same time. She had sucked off a boy; wouldn't it be many times better and more satisfying to gobble the cock of a grown man? One she cared about and would consider marrying? Wanted to marry?
"Dammit, why not?" she muttered, lighting a fresh smoke.
It was after dark when Bob rang the doorbell and Nola let him in. Instantly, she recognized the weariness in his strained face-and he was slightly loaded. "The fire?" she asked quietly, taking his left arm and tugging him toward the sofa.
"It's gonna be a bitch," Bob frowned as she handed him a bourbon and water. "You can see the fire breaking down through a narrow, steep canyon toward my project. But I think it will be okay. That crew I hired from Vermont is on the lines. That damned fire could break to the north and march right on the school here."
"Ooohhh, my, no," Nola squealed, frightened.
Bob patted her bare right knee. "Don't sweat it, Baby, some of my crew is setting up defenses and the superintendent sent the student volunteers and they'll be encamped by Sunday noon, being orientated by the professionals."
"That's a relief," Nola breathed-casually dropping her right hand on his leg-far up above his knee-only inches from the prominent bulge in his pants. Her fingers itched to cup his genitals and go right to work on them. "Another drink?"
"Sounds good," Bob smiled faintly. "Damn, I'm tired, though."
"Relax! Nap, if you want to," she smiled, kissing him fleetingly on the lips, her hand brushing across the fleshy sex region.
Nola mixed the fresh drinks, then stalled in the kitchen, putting a few dishes, glasses, cups and silverware in the dishwasher. She started a pot of coffee brewing, in case it was wanted later.
When she returned to the living room, Bob was asleep, head back on the sofa arm. She smiled tenderly, nervously, her eyes on the coveted lump in his pants. Quickly, she strode to the bedroom, stripped and donned a shortie robe and returned to the living room. The harshness of the raw silk of the gown rubbed delectably across the crowns of her breasts and agitated the tender nipples until they grew tumescent and hot.
"Bob," she said softly, leaning over the sleeping man. "Bob?" she repeated, louder. His head merely turned slightly to one side and he mumbled incoherently.
She knelt cautiously before him, her hands on his knees, pushing them wide. She inched forward into his Veed thighs. She rubbed her hands firmly back and forth on his legs, her eyes riveted on the tenting of his pants. He coughed faintly, but did not awaken. Timidly, hand trembling, she touched his belt buckle, undid it. She used both hands to unzip the fly and disengage the hook at the waistband. And the fly parted to either side. He didn't move when she unsnapped the band of his boxer shorts.
"Honey?" Nola said clearly. How was she going to get at him? Fingertips rubbed lightly, combing, through the upper fringe of his reddish-brown pubic hair. She removed his shoes and set them aside. She stood and leaned over him, perplexed and frustrated. She strode about the room, turning off all lights but the small lamp atop the television set in a far corner.
She returned to the sleeping man and pushed a hand into his left armpit. "Bob, come on and lie down. You'll rest better if you lie down."
He moaned and grumbled, but sleepily lurched to the left, onto his side. "Come on, move your head this way," she said firmly. He levered his feet and legs up onto the sofa and scooted his body. His loose pants and shorts skidded from around his buttocks, the waists at mid-thigh. "You sleep a little," Nola grinned, rolling him in his sleep onto his back. She seized the cuffs of his pants legs and tugged them off. A smattering of loose change rained from one pocket and she stooped to pick it up and replace it in his pants. Before she attacked the shorts, she stood for a minute, staring down at the relaxed genitals. "And you want to have that fine bag of goodies and candy cane removed," she pouted.
She dropped to her knees beside him, her back to his face. Delicately, she picked up the tip of his peter by a pinch of the foreskin, waggled the inert meat and let it fall, plopping up across his flat belly. Almost roughly, she pushed his thighs apart so she could inspect his gonads. She scratched a fingernail over and around the crinkled sac and stifled a giggle when his balls bounced involuntarily.
Slowly, she traced the fingernail up the seam along the underside of his limp peter, prompting a nervous wiggling all along the sleeping snake. The head flexed slightly as she delicately dug the fingernail into the slightly gaping slot.
Her left hand caressed over the roundness of his left thigh, into his crotch where she cupped his heavy testicles and lifted them. "Not quite a pound of raw meat," she gloated softly, jostling and cuddling and squeezing them, but she calculated there was enough meat there to provide meal after meal. "And your hotdog," she grinned, her passion rising like a whirlwind deep in her pussy, "could serve thousands of girls for another fifty years. You crazy bastard." She frowned, fingertips caressing up and down his dong. She formed calipers of thumb and index finger to measure his limp meat. "A damned good five inches, even when it's soft," she admired. She pinched down on the glans and lifted his peter, let it plop back onto his belly.
She could feel a nervous roiling in his husky nuts and thought she could detect a slow puffing and swelling. "Real balloons, they won't sail away-they aren't filled with helium, but gorged with lava."
Nola pinched the head of his peter sharply and Bob moaned. She whipped his penis back and forth roughly, like a ludicrous jump rope. She stretched it out like a noodle and squeezed his swollen balls impatiently. She curled her fingers around his meat and jacked it downward, tugging the skin away from the glans so that the corona was accented.
"You gonna get hard, Bob?" she restrained her merry laughter. "Betcha bare ass you do," she chortled to herself. Her hand tightened around his jock at the base and she rotated it, causing his meat to flail around and around above her index finger and curled thumb.
She leaned close to exchange stares with the snake eye in the tip. "Wink at me," she challenged, "and I'll bite hell out of you." She jerked her hand up and down on his dong, fingers clenching and relaxing and clenching. "Maybe," she shuddered pleasurably from the sharp needles of ecstasy tingling deep in her innards, "I'll bite you any way."
Nola puckered her lips and blew her breath directly on the bluntly pointed cherry-buster spear-tip. It expanded and relaxed. "Something's alive in this thing." She grinned and swallowed hard.
As she gazed at the purplish bulb, less than a foot from her face, an erotic fever began to consume her mind, exciting and lewd fantasies prompting hot flushes in her hard titties and sharp, almost painful twinges in her sex-channel. "Jeez, should I? And why not?"
Carefully, Nola wedged her right elbow between the back of the sofa and Bob's right flank, her hand holding his peter tilted toward her. She used her left hand to untie the sash of the gown and shrugged out of it. She leaned over his middle, crushing her feverish, pointy right breast on his belly. "One helluva mouthful," she gasped, tongue flicking at the slick-skinned point of his peter. She curled her lips about the tip and sucked tentatively. There was a thunderous crashing in her brain as she savored the faintly musky-sweet, salty flavor of his organ. She slid a little more of it into her mouth, her lips locking behind the fat-ridged corona. Her tongue lashed at the tasty knob and she pushed her face downward, the actions of her tongue feeding it into her mouth. "Glub-glub, blub-blub," she gurgled with the rich head against her throat.
"Carefully," she mumbled, swallowing spit and the tiny dribble of oil from his peter. She began swallowing as she forced her face down on his organ, until her chin was against the hard groin-bone.
Go down, get in there, she pouted mentally, using her swallow-muscles to compel the head of his dick into her gullet. The wadding of his meat in her mouth began to diminish and his peter was sliding into her throat.
Her left hand massaged his balls and her throat muscles continued stroking at the head of his dong and her tongue massaged the underside of his peter. It seemed all over her senses were alive so that she wouldn't miss any of the sensations of his prick growing to full erection in her mouth and down her throat.
Nola tensed her thigh muscles against the torrid pulsing in her crotch, crushing them against Tier vulva.
She stretched his scrotum out with her left hand so she could watch his balls throb and swell as she concentrated on the fantastic experience of having a man's cock fatten and lengthen in her mouth.
In seconds, it thickened to the point of forcing her jaws wide until there was a keen aching at the hinges. The expanding head and shaft so stuffed her throat she was aware of a choking, suffocating sensation and she breathed more rapidly through her nose.
Utterly fantastic, she thought, eyes unblinking on the big balls she was fondling with her left hand. She concentrated on grinding her hot, aching tit into his belly, reveling in the erotic glory of having his massive prick shafted into her mouth.
She wanted to begin fucking his cock with her mouth, but was reluctant to pull her face back, fearful she wouldn't be able to shove all of his prick back down her throat. She wondered whether she could make him cum by just keeping her swallow muscles and tongue active on his huge hunk of sex-meat.
A fluttering began in the long thick barrel of his cock and Nola suspected he would climax in a short time-and she so wanted to give him a good, long blow job and change his mind about having that stupid surgery. She pressed his balls upward against the base of his prick to steady it and slowly raised her face, his monstrous cock slipping from her mouth.
She slurped her tongue around the huge barrel and the massive head that could torture a girl's cunny so delightfully. Then she crammed her face down on him ruthlessly, shafting his spear back into her aching gullet. She gulped mightily at the almost brutal invasion.
Maybe I bit off more than I can chew-swallow, she scowled.
Bob groaned loudly and his ass bucked and Nola felt a surge of passionate elation through her body. And she again raised her face, sucking his big fuck-knob into her cheeks and vacuuming at the opening in the end.
"Oooohhhh," Bob groaned. And Nola was conscious of his head raising. "What? What? What?"
One of his hands rested on her bare shoulder and began caressing her back. "I like that," he moaned, his fingers and thumbs kneading the back of her neck.
Nola swallowed rapidly, took a deep breath and began mouth-fucking him in long, slow, tantalizing strokes. Each time she took the length of his cock into her gullet, he upfucked his butt, trying to drive it all the way into her stomach.
She quickened her strokes until she was fucking him off with her mouth in a wild, lascivious flurry of mouth and tongue. "Slurp-slurp; suck-suck; slish-slosh; slurp-slurp; gurgle-gurgle; swallow-swallow; slurp-slurp; gulp-gulp; suck-suck-a-long-f at-cock; blow-blow; slurp-slurp; suck-suck-suck-suck," Nola sucked his cock nosily.
"Aaaaggghhhh," Bob grunted, his butt up-bucking and fucking his prick rapidly into her mouth and down her throat.
Nola shifted around so Bob could finger-fuck her asshole and viscous pussy, not missing a beat as she fucked him in a frenzy with her greedy mouth.
When he shot his first wad of cum, she was on an upstroke and just the knob of his cock was lodged in her avid mouth. The bolt of white lava cannonballed against the back of her throat and she almost swooned. But she braced herself and dived her face down relentlessly on his massive hunk of cock, driving it back down her throat, swallowing frantically to take the profuse flood of jizz and not let a single drop escape to trickle out of her contorted lips.
"I love the way you sucked my cock," Bob said, voice wavering as his passion subsided and she sucked the head of his cock with famished lust. "That's one of the things I mean-about being a woman. A woman can go down on a guy and give him a blow job and suck the jizz out of his cock- and a guy can't. Without being called queer. Do you understand, Nola? That's why I want to be a woman-at least, that's just one more reason."
Nola spat out his softening dong and fled toward the bedroom, dragging the robe in a numb hand. She barely heard him call after her, "I have an appointment later tonight to talk with the doctor from Denver. Would you want to come with me?"
CHAPTER NINE
Nola sprawled naked, face down, sobbing on the bed in the dark. Her slender body was wracked with convulsions of bitterness, frustration and humiliation. She felt she had given all of herself, opened her soul to that man. She heard him leave her apartment.
Sobs choked her voice, "How could I have been such a damned fool? Thinking I could change his perverted notions by loving him that way- giving him the best cock-sucking I could ?"
She flopped onto her back, levered her feet high into the air, far apart, and rolled far back on her shoulders to push her snatch up in the air in an obscene surrender. She felt that a freezing wind was blowing like a cyclone deep in her spurned pussy.
Her sense of shame made her almost blind and morbid thoughts tumbled through her fevered brain. "I'm so ashamed I would let anyone and anything fuck me right now," she wailed. "I would give my pussy to niggers and skidrow bums and lecherous, depraved beasts," she sobbed. "Come on, fuck me," she screamed.
Finally, in physical and mental exhaustion, Nola crept under the covers and slept, awakening about ten the next morning-Sunday. Resentful and confused, she sat in bed, the covers around her waist, plush boobies lolling free, smoking a cigarette.
Gradually, strength and spirit flowed back into her and she tossed back the covers, strode naked through the apartment to reheat the coffee and fix a coffee royal-about half and half. With the steaming brew in one hand and a cigarette in the other, she sauntered to the bathroom for her morning ablutions.
"Piss on Bob," she said sullenly after freshening her face at the washbasin. "Nope, I didn't want to go with him and listen to the discussion about cutting off his cock and balls."
She ran a comb lazily through her long, blonde hair and eyed herself judiciously in the rectangular mirror of the medicine chest. A pulse pounded strongly in her throat, in the smooth, sloping crowns of her breast cones, in her belly, deep in her pussy.
Then she tossed her hair, a slow smile curling her lips-and she laughed loudly, musically. "Oh, what the hell? It would be enlightening and perversely exciting to sit and listen to a man talk to a doctor about having his penis and gonads excised and having a pussy installed! And he talks about the pleasure of eating cock and pussy. I'd like to see him with his mouth latched onto Corbie's- especially after I shaved it as smooth as a ten-year-old's !"
She jumped, startled, when the doorbell rang insistently. "Who the shit? Bob? To tell me about his sex-transformation conference?"
Still preoccupied, she hurried to the door and opened it about a foot. Instantly, Terry pushed her way in and leaned against the door. "The fire-" she started to say, then stiffened, eyes wide, staring. "Wow, look at the naked jaybird! And look at those golden feathers around the nest! Yeeeooowww! And what a gorgeous set of knockers! Honey, I wish I had time to tongue your cunt, but we got things to do."
Nola scowled at her, scratched unconcernedly at the bush of pubic hair growing lushly across her poochy lovemound and fondled her jouncy, rubbery breast mounds. "What the heck are you talking about?"
She stood unmoving as Terry swaggered close, cupped her big tits in her hands and "yum-yummed" her lips and tongue around the tumid nipples. "Did you shave Corbie's crotch?" Terry mumbled, sucking hungrily on Nola's tittie tips. "I had a romp with her last night-and it's really weird, eating a hairless pie. A gal can really get her face into the business and suck clit and tongue out the yummy-hole without getting hair in her teeth."
"What about the fire?" Nola asked dully, aware of the sudden conflagration Terry had started in her twat and resentful they couldn't set about extinguishing it-possibly fire-hole to fire-hole.
"The fire has broken out of the mountains and is posing a threat to school property," Terry sighed resignedly, now just fingering and fondling Nola's magnificent melons. "A bunch of our boy-students are out there with some professionals. The women members of the faculty are fixing food and drinks for them. We'll take the stuff up in the school's Dodge van."
Nola's mind was so obsessed with Terry's manipulating her that she didn't immediately comprehend just what they were going to do. Ooohh. they would drive somewhere with some food and drinks and stuff for someone-yeeessss, some of the boys from the school. Where? Oooohhhhh, yeeessssss, somewhere near the fire.
She was aware of her arms lifting, fingers twitching and curling into talons as they tangled in Terry's profuse, heavy waves of flowing red hair. The hot lips tormenting her tittie-tips sent spark after spark of enthralling ecstasy crackling through her to explode deliciously in the hot hole between her legs. "Ooohhh," she sighed pleasurably as Terry's agile, expert hands swept along her flanks, to cup and tease and knead the smooth, tingling half-moons of her butt.
Nola was on the verge of pleading obscenely for Terry to do it to her, do more to her, but she bit off the words and her voice came out like an animal gurgle. But her thoughts were intense: I love the way you dabble your fingers in the crack of my ass and pry the cheeks apart and press against my butt hole. Go ahead, stick a finger in my rectum, if you want to, Terry.
She couldn't help it that her pelvis began to buck and churn coitally as Terry played her fingers up and down the long, curving crevice of her fanny globes. I love that, she almost screamed, her butt fucking back and forth under Terry's caresses. Stick a finger in my bowels and make me cum!
Suddenly, a stabbing, fiery pain-short-lived -was ignited in her anus as Terry gouged a finger all the way to the fist in her back -anal. Ooooohhhhh, you got a finger fucked in my rear hole. It hurt for a seconds-but it feels heavenly now. Go ahead, Terry, fuck it in and out of me and make me climax.
Nola put her hands on Terry's shoulders to brace herself as one of Terry's ingenious hands rubbed her flank, across the gentle bowl of her belly and her fingers combed through the glistening tendrils of golden hair that adorned her throbbing love mound.
She obeyed Terry's wish willingly and scooted her feet apart as Terry's knee pushed inside her knees. "I don't have time-we don't have time for me to strip down and go at it," Terry mumbled, sucking the passion-bloated nipple of Nola's right breast. "But I'll give you a blast of fun, Honey. Oooohhhh, you're coming out beautifully. Just smell the hot aroma of your gorgeous pussy!"
Nola rested her chin on the crown of Terry's gently bobbing head as she tongue-loved her boobies. One arm curled around Terry's neck to hold her face steady against her heaving bosom. How I love your finger fucking away in my butt hole, she almost shrieked as Terry gave her a particularly satisfying prod with her hooking and curling and reaming digit.
She just couldn't keep her ass still, her pelvis from lurching and she drew a deep breath of prayerful anticipating as Terry's fingers gathered and scooped over the bulge of her genital area, pressing and pinching and massaging the hair-matted outer folds of her steaming vulva.
"Aaaaahhhh," she purred gratefully as Terry's fingers deftly spread the outer lips of her twat and one nudged and pressed the distended clit. "Oooohhhh, God," Nola whimpered with ecstasy as Terry coursed her bunched fingers up and down her fiery furrow, from her speared asshole to the pinch of pussy-smile that concealed her fun-thorn.
"I-I-I can't keep my ass still," Nola panted, erotic hysteria captivating her mind. "My ass just keeps fucking around on your fantastic finger," she gasped, her pelvis grinding wildly.
"More goodies are about to come to you," Terry said earnestly, vacuuming in a great mouthful of Nola's succulent tittie. "I think I'm gonna cum in my panties-just from playing with your tittie and asshole and pussy, Honey," she gasped, her body trembling violently and Nola hugged her neck even tighter, a hand petting Terry's quivering back and flanks and the side bulge of a plushy breast.
Nola was conscious of her feet skidding farther and farther apart as Terry applied her fingers more diligently to her seething sex-gash. "God, I love that," she whispered plaintively, kissing Terry's hair. Deliberately, she spread her feet far apart so that her crotch was amply exposed for full access by Terry's scintillating fingers.
"Aaaaggghhhhh," she growled with delicious tremors cascading upward through her loins as Terry snaked two fingers far into her roiling pussy.
"Oooohhh, what a hot, liquid fun-hole you have," Terry marveled, swizzling her fingers around in the writhing fuck-canal, the strong sphincters coiling around them.
"Jesus Christ!" Nola howled, rotating her pelvis on the twin impalement of her asshole and cunt. The delectable sensations were increased by Terry's hand diddling her rear hole as the slinky redhead used her thumb to gouge forcefully at the curvy, sloping buns of her sensitive butt.
She came up on tiptoe as Terry began finger-fucking her anus and her twat with increasing fervor, slamming the finger up her ass hard as she extracted the fingers from her twat. Then she shoved the fingers deep into her pussy as she teasingly withdrew the finger from her rectum.
Nola felt that her legs were beginning to melt, turn to jelly as Terry hastened the pace of her twin finger-fucking of her two holes. Nola could feel the in-and-out play of the fun-probes through the narrow partition that separated her vagina from her rectal channel and the increasing pleasure became excruciatingly delightful.
"I'm gonna cum," she shrieked and grasped Terry's bobbing body more tightly, feeling herself falling over backwards. At first, Terry tried to keep them upright, then she let her body fold to the carpeted floor, atop Nola's feverish body, crushing her face into Nola's conical globes.
"We should hurry over to the cafeteria," Terry panted, licking Nola's tumescent breast berries. The finger sunk deep in Nola's clutching butt hole was held by Nola's weight, but the other hand was fucking rapidly in and out of Nola's cunt. "I just gotta have a good suck of your pussy first, though," she gasped, her mouth leaving Nola's passion-swollen tits, her head diving into the wide V of her upraised legs. Her experienced lips latched onto Nola's snatch-gash avidly and she began ravaging her clit and inner pussy petals.
"Aaaaaiiieeee," Nola howled, her feet flailing the air as her ass up-fucked and bounced and rotated greedily as she exploded into a thundering orgasm. "Better than having a man's cock fucked into my pussy," she panted.
She raised her head and watched Terry's bobbing head as the sensual young teacher gobbled her pussy with an increasing frenzy of passion. Nola crushed the sleek, inner planes of her thighs against Terry's face, holding her mouth more securely against her spasming snatch.
"I wish you could suck my pussy all day," she whined.
As if in a trance, she let Terry help her to her feet, keeping the finger socked deep in her asshole. She let Terry help her dress, then they strolled across the campus to the school cafeteria where food, put up in box lunches, and coffee and soft drinks were being stowed in the Dodge van.
They were briefed by a fire control officer on which roads to take and fire camps were circled on a Forest Service map. Then they were told to "stay out of the way, that the bus won't be ready to go until shortly after dark." They strolled over to the infirmary and watched Corbie and her nurses aides getting the place ready to care for anyone who might be injured while fighting the fire.
When they passed the room where the young athlete with the broken leg was being cared for, Terry held back, looped an arm around Nola's slender waist. "Wish we had time for us to slip in here. That night you romped with Corbie and you shaved her pussy, I came down here-and I sucked his cock hard and fucked it in my pussy and he didn't even wake up. He has a nice prick, Terry. You know, maybe, we'll find some of our young studs at the fire and we can get our pussies punched real good."
Nola was aware that her face flushed slightly. She was tempted to tell her about what she had done with the boy who had fallen in the shower. But Corbie had probably already told her. That was a ridiculous thing, putting that kid in the infirmary for smoking pot, just to scare him.
"It's time," Terry said, leading the way into the early dusk.
CHAPTER TEN
A mile from the school, Terry stopped the van on the crest of a low hill. "Look at that," she whispered, tone filled with awe.
Nola marveled at the sinister beauty of the fire. It was like a moving red lace decorating the brows of hills and the lower mountains. The dancing flames painted livid figures in the billowing smoke. She thought she could see devils dancing in some wild, terrible drama.
There was aura of untamed passion in the flames and Nola unconsciously crushed her thighs together, smothering them against the puffy lips that shielded her inflamed vulva. Just a few hours ago, she reminisced, fires were raging just like that in my pussy and Terry was adding fuel with her wonderful fingers-up my ass and up my twat.
"We take this road," Terry said alertly as the van eased down the eastern slope.
Headlights picked up the primitive road that followed a small stream back into the Wasatches. Three miles up the rough road that had been flattened slightly by trucks and a water wagon and a bulldozer, the mountain walls retreated and they found the fire camp in a basin about half a mile wide. Terry followed the directions of a pointed flashlight and parked the van beneath some dark conifers.
For nearly an hour, they dispensed food and drink to men who crowded around the sliding doors in the side of the bus. A man who identified himself as a fire boss said, "Some of your kids are rolled in blankets up the creek, resting and sleeping. You could take some grub to them."
Nola didn't miss Terry's slow, knowing wink, eyes flashing with excitement and sensuality. "Let's load stuff in these grocery baskets and go find them," Terry said.
With flashlights, they found the youths, softly wakened them and left box lunches and coffee and soft drinks. "Guess we found them all," Terry said softly as they set one empty basket inside the other. "Let's go find someone to talk to."
Nola started to follow Terry hesitantly and was stunned by Terry's ferocity, "Go find your own kid to suck and fuck and I'll do the same!"
Senses numbed, she watched the lithe redhead slink away into the darkness, just the small beam of the flashlight marking her route. Nola considered returning to the van and making a pallet on the floor and napping. But Terry's planned escapade excited her. And there was a fleeting jealousy in her as she visualized Terry going down on a boy, then letting him fuck his saliva wet cock into her cunt. She was puzzled and bewildered by Terry who could do such a fervent act of love-making on her, then seek out a boy for her fun.
With indecision tormenting her,. she began groping her way through the thick brush, using the flashlight only sparingly so as not to attract attention or subvert Terry's game-and thus make her angry at her. Her footsteps slowed as she heard voices in the darkness. She crept closer, closer, closer.
Terry had scotched the flashlight with rocks so that it bathed the tiny glen with frail light. And she was sitting on a corner of a blanket, next to a youth's head. "Wake up," she heard Terry laugh, tousling the kid's hair.
As the youth raised and supported himself on an elbow, Nola knelt, the heels of her boots digging pleasurably into her butt. She twisted her body so that one heel dug into the crack and wedged against her burning, itching anal pucker.
"Is the fire real bad?" Terry asked, hand smoothing the boy's brow.
"Real hot up there," the boy replied. "The men watch us close and won't let us get in real danger. But it's really hot."
"Did you get any burns?" Terry asked softly, tugging the blanket from the boy's body. He cowered slightly with modesty, wearing only shorts and T shirt.
"No," he said haltingly.
"Well, Nurse Corbie told me to check you guys," Terry smiled, lying. She picked up the flashlight and flashed the beam over his bare, almost hairless legs, her free hand moving up and down his thighs-almost touching the prominent tenting in his shorts. She peeled back the tail of his T shirt and rubbed her palm across his bare midriff, up over his solid chest.
"Are you using a shovel or a pick or an ax?" she murmured, bending over him so that her hair brushed his skin and hid her hand from his eyes.
"We trade off on the tools," the boy groaned, his knees twitching as Terry skidded her fingers under the waistband of his shorts and abruptly palmed his limp penis and relaxed gonads.
"Hey! Miss Whitman!" He flung his head back onto the makeshift pillow of his outer garments and his boots. His body stiffened and bounced erratically as she tightened her fingers around his husky genitals.
"You say it's really hot up near the fire?" she said absently, fingers flying around his peter and nuts. "Is it hot down here?" There was a tone of mocking, triumphant laughter in her soft voice.
"Miss Whitman?" the boy groaned, writhing on the blanket as she put the flashlight back on the rocks and used her hand to yank his shorts down to mid-thigh.
"Just checking you for fire," she replied meaningfully and tauntingly. "Just lie still and let me do my duty for you." Boldly, she lifted his thickening spike and waggled it around, holding it just by the head with thumb and forefinger. "I don't guess you've been burned-yet." she gloated, a merry tone in her voice.
"You know, I admire you boys-carrying around a hose to put out fires here and there and yon," Terry chortled softly. "An I have a fire in a yon that really needs hosing."
The boy's bewilderment was expressed in a wavering, squeaking gurgle of a changing voice as Terry wrapped the fingers of one hand around his thickening dong while the others cupped and fondled his tender testes.
"Yes, young man," Terry murmured, letting her long hair tickle his face just before she captured his timid mouth with her full, demanding lips, "a nice hose and full tanks of fire extinguishers. We can't have a fire burning around here, can we."
"But-Oh, Miss Whitman," the boy protested weakly, voice shrill and breaking.
"Hush," she breathed against his quavering lips, french-kissing her tongue into his gulping mouth. "Just relax; you've worked awfully hard and you deserve to be treated nice and rewarded. Don't you agree?"
Terry moaned with passionate satisfaction as the youth began sucking on her tongue and she groped with a hand to begin clumsily removing her slacks. Awkwardly, but surely, she managed to get the slacks and her panties down around her ankles, lifting her bare ass so the night air could soothe and caress the smooth cheeks and torrid gash that gaped with anticipation of a husky young cock plundering her sexual depths.
"Do you like this?" Terry mumbled, fingers clenching on his fattening shaft of meat. "You're getting hard, Kid, you know that?"
He whimpered through his nose as she jacked him off roughly, flogging his meat toward full erection. "Want me to blow you? Give you a juicy blow job? I'll go down on you-blow your fuck-trumpet for you."
Clumsily, she began turning her body so that her shining rump was toward his amazed face. "See if you can untie and unlace my boots and get my slacks and panties off," she groaned, trailing her hot tongue wetly down his breast bone, over his heaving stomach. "You got a nice, long, fat bone," she encouraged his confidence and cooperation.
Holding his prick near the base, she began waggling it back and forth, around and around while she slowly masturbated him, goading his swelling balls into erotic readiness. "Ever screw a girl before? You know? Have you ever fucked a woman or had a girl suck your nice cock? Bet you have a delicious prick, too."
As he fumbled with her clothes, she helped by kicking out of her boots and slacks. "Just tear my panties off, if they give you trouble," she breathed, excitedly, impatiently. There was a muted sound of ripping silk and Terry giggled exultantly. "That's the way! Now my ass is bare and I can spread my legs and you can get your fingers in my pussy and jab one up my asshole."
The lad whimpered loudly, shrilly as she dived her face down on his cock, her mouth opened wide to take the full length of his prong into her throat. Slowly, she closed her lips like a rubbery gasket around the pulsating shaft, closed her throat down on the hot, fat glans and sucked her cheeks in around his blood-veined barrel.
She swallowed hard and more of his prick speared into her throat as the boy found her snatch, shoved his big finger into her and forked his thumb up her rectum.
Reluctantly, she drew back from his cock, licked at the head with the tip of her tongue. "When I start fucking my mouth up and down on your cock, I want you to fuck your fingers in and out of my butt hole and twat real fast and hard. You know, make me cum off in a big blast. And I'll keep on giving you a blow job-mouth-fucking you-and let you have your male fuck-fun by shooting your jizz in my face. Okay?"
He shoved his thumb so hard and deep into her asshole and his finger so far up her cunt she almost toppled onto her head, on the off side of him. But she swallowed six or seven inches of his throbbing prick and hung onto his high-rolling balls to balance herself.
"Tremendous," she gasped on an up-stroke, just before banging her face back down on his cock until her chin crushed against his groin. "That's the way to finger-fuck a gal-me!"
The lecherous, animalistic sounds of their panting was loud in the shadowy glen. Terry's slurping on his eager prick were almost obscene and his thumb and finger slish-sloshed in and out of her pussy and ass.
"Loooooove it," Terry squealed, "Gonna cum- right now! Fuck the fingers into my diddle-holes real fast and hard and help me cum!" She pushed her ass back roughly to meet the forward thrust of his hand, fingers gouging deep into her sex-craven cavities.
Suddenly, she gasped and choked and mouth-fucked him rapidly as his ass bounced in the air and he began streaming fiery jizz into her mouth and down her throat. "Glug, glug," she said, swallowed frantically, her tongue swirling and curling around his pistoning prick to get every drop.
"Jeez, Teach," the youth called out, a whimper of agony in his voice, "you're sucking my cock too hard-it feels so good it almost hurts." He crammed a bunch of fingers up her snatch, lifting her butt high in the air.
Cautiously, Nola crawled back around the tall bush as Terry finished her blow job, reluctantly swung her rounded fanny away from his face, his thumb and fingers pulling out of her asshole and pussy with the moist cork-popping sounds.
She crawled closer, closer, closer as Terry swung her left leg over the boy so that she was straddling his naked middle with her naked, hair-thatched snatch fully exposed. The boy's legs were stretched out straight, feet parted slightly.
Nola crept up until she was almost able to breathe on his feet, toes twitching and curling. With Terry's back to her, Nola warily turned on her flashlight, coasted the beam along the ground, up between the boy's trembling legs until it fully lighted Terry's behind. Perspiration glistened in the widely splayed crease between Terry's tensed ass buns. Her anal pucker was relaxed, bulging until Nola could see the slick, deep pink of the entry.
"Young guy," Terry panted, voice coming in a low, erotic hiss, "we really do it now. The very best part. When I get your cock socked all the way up my hot twat, we'll really fuck. I want you to fuck your cock 'way up in me when I fuck my pussy down fast and hard on your fabulous love-pole.
"What an elegant elongation," Terry trilled, pushing his huge hard-on back, letting it lay wet and hot and hard up the crevice of her butt. "I would cornhole it into my bowels," she whimpered, the sound of tears in her voice, "but I so need a huge, hard cock plowed into my tortured pussy, Honey. Now, you just do what I tell you, okay?"
Slowly, Nola elevated the beam of light so that it shone full on the sex-slimed head and shaft of the kid's cock. As Terry flexed her legs, muscles rippling in her tapering thighs, raised her ass and fumbled with the grand phallus, holding the blunt-pointed glans against her butt hole, she thought the little redhead had changed her mind and was going to plunge her body down on it and take his massive cock up her ass.
But she slowly swabbed the fat, dark head back and forth-up through her passion-greased vulva -then back over her anus and up the crack. Then she plowed it back and forth again and again. For a second, Nola played the light on the boy's balls that had swollen so much they had stretched all the crinkle from his scrotum. Each time Terry rubbed the grotesque head through her sex-gash, the boy's balls tried to roll out of their sac, under the groin bone and into his body.
"Oooooooh, Jesus," the kid panted, his pelvis lurching uncontrollably as Terry goaded him to an even greater erection.
"In a second," Terry moaned, "but I wanta get your magnificent prick all slicky and coated with my fuck-juices. Are you ready?"
She leaned forward until her fat, hard tits brushed his bare chest. A hand in her crotch manipulated his cock, aimed it into her parted gash, positioned the purplish head firmly against the fluttering entry to her vagina.
"You'll love every minute of this," Terry promised, "and I'll love every inch-the whole mile of cock shoved in me an inch at a time. Now, don't you move your rump at all; just lie steady and let me take you in. The penetration of a hot, hard, thick prick in a pussy is absolutely heavenly."
Nola extended an arm so that the flashlight was only inches from Terry's pooched-out brown butt hole-just an inch or so from the fat pouch of her pussy. There was a hot, sticky feeling in her panties and she knew she had reeled through a vicarious climax-just from watching Terry's conquest of the youth.
She saw the tips of fingers of Terry's other hand as they fully spread the outer folds of pussy sheath and slowly let her ass settle, muscles twitching in her buttocks and legs.
Nola almost yelled at her to go ahead, hurry up and get his cock fucked away in her snatch, she wanted to watch her top-ride and fuck the jizz out of him. But she caught her breath, gnashed her teeth on her tongue and watched Terry exert the weight of her body against the point of his female impaler. There was resistance in her coital flesh and the boy whined with ecstatic, erotic depraved pleading for her to go ahead and take his cock.
Suddenly, the massive head with the prominent corona-ridge popped inside her and Terry nearly collapsed. Soft, mewling sounds seeped from her lips and nose as she righted her body and forced her ass downward, taking his prick into her twat slowly, steadily.
It was almost hypnotic for Nola as she watched inch after inch of lusty lust-post vanish in Terry's glutinous pussy that leaked sex-oil. Her anal wring stretched and Nola thought woozily of shoving the flashlight up her rectum.
Dully, Nola heard a commotion back at the fire camp, whistles blowing demandingly. Here and there in the darkness and in the brush she heard mutterings and stirrings, then people stumbling through the brush toward the camp.
But she returned her concentration on what Terry was doing with the boy. She now had absorbed the full length of his staff and her penetrated ass rested over his youthful groin like a ludicrous umbrella. She reached behind her and pressed his full bag of goodies into the crack of her ass, against her burning butt hole.
"Now we fuck," Terry exclaimed exultantly, lifting her ass, his sex-slicked dick sliding out of her, pulling the inner and outer pussy lips along with it. Then she slid her sex-chute back down on his prick, a shudder of pleasure rippling through her. "God, what a nice prick you have. It sure fills my hunger spot full of fabulous meat. Don't you like this? I just love it. Fucking is so much fun-don't you agree?"
She raised her fanny so high that Nola thought she was going to lose contact, but she slapped her crotch back down quickly and his piston pumped back into her snatch with a wet squish sound.
Nola knew the head of his cock punched the bottom of her sex-well when Terry screamed raggedly and threw her head back, her back stiffening and bowing toward his feet. "Yes! Go ahead and pinch my titties while I fuck you. And now start up-fucking your cock as I down-fuck my pussy. See? Ain't that gorgeous? You know? Your cock is long enough to crash right into the farthest reach of my twat. Just wonderful-fuck me faster!"
Yelling and shouting back at camp became more intense and Nola let her attention drift from the carnal exploitation before her to focus on the sounds of engines, heavy trucks leaving.
Something seemed to be wrong, she mused nervously, scooting backwards, still watching Terry's ass fly up and down on the boy's flagpole. Shakily, she got to her feet as Terry screamed, "Terrific fucking! I'm cumming! Shoot your jizz in me, Baby!"
Terry threw her body down on the boy's, her legs pushed out straight beside his and her body wretched as she careened through the throes of climax. And the boy was whining, his ass trying to up-buck his cock father into her as he unleashed a massive stream of jizz up her snatch.
Almost blindly, Nola turned and ran back toward the camp that was strangely silent. And she ran right into the long arms of the man who had identified himself as a fire boss.
"The others," he panted angrily, "I counted noses and I'm missing a kid and you two women. Where are they? We got to get the hell out of here in your van. The fire has broken our lines and is burning this way."
She turned and pointed the flashlight on the naked boy and the half-naked Terry who had flopped onto her back beside him, legs sprawled, sated pussy staring at them, his thick, pearly jizz flowing out of her, down the crack of her ass, over her bulging butt hole.
"Son of a bitch," the man swore. "Come on, you two."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Embarrassed, looking straight ahead through the van's windshield, Nola sensed the taut anxiety in Fritz Fleming, the fire boss, as he wrestled the vehicle along the winding mountain road. "Are we in danger?" she asked softly, her eyes slanting to watch his long, strong arms twist and yank the steering wheel.
"We sure as hell aren't in for a picnic," Fritz grinned wryly, turning his gaunt face to look at her briefly, his slightly crooked teeth giving his face a wolfish appearance. "That fire is chasing us like a greyhound after a rabbit."
Nola swiveled in the passenger seat to peer through the rear windows, gasped with fright and awe as she saw flames race up a giant fir tree a hundred yards behind them and explode out the top. The fire, fifty yards to their left seemed to be keeping pace with the careening bus.
"It's gonna cut the road," Fritz swore softly.
Nola stared into the back of the bus where the boy, Kenny Callister was sitting on the floor, struggling into his clothes. Terry perched defiantly on a pile of blankets they had brought from the school.
"For crying out loud, Terry," Nola snapped at her, "put on your clothes."
"What the hell for?" Terry retorted contemptuously, seemingly unaware or uncaring about her obscene posture, knees spread, cunny lips parted in a slight pout, the burnished copper mesh adorning them glistening richly in the bus' interior lights. "We're all going to burn up, any way."
"Oh, hell, get your britches on," Fritz said curtly.
Then Kenny grasped the backs of the seats and leaned forward. "Mr. Fleming, can we make it another half-mile along this road? There's a canyon walled by steep, rocky slopes. A small stream runs down through it and there is a road of sorts back into the mountains about a mile and a half."
"Into the mountains we don't need to be going," Fritz said quickly.
"But there is a huge cave in the canyon's dead end wall," Kenny persisted. "I once belonged to a Boy Scout troop in Ogden and we explored it one summer. I think we could get there and be safe from the fire."
Flames were now dancing along parallel with the jouncing van. And the fire was jumping the road just as they passed. Nola thought the fire was all around them as she stared through her window at the reddish-orange curtains to their right.
"Son," Fritz gritted, "I think you better watch sharp and tell me where to turn."
"We're going to die. We're all going to burn up!" Terry screamed from the back of the Dodge.
"Shut up, Terry," Nola yelled, "and put your clothes on."
"Screw it," Terry muttered, but began dressing.
"Around that big shoulder of rock," Kenny yelled, arm pointing through the windshield. Nola nearly toppled from the bucket seat into Fritz' lap as he swung the van to the right.
Flames were darting tongues across the narrow canyon and starting fires on the western slope. Some five minutes later, Fritz exhaled raggedly, a deep sigh of relaxing tension. "I think we've escaped the fire for awhile-if the wind doesn't shift and sweep the flames up this canyon. How far is it to that cave, Boy?"
"I don't know-just keep going," Kenny said dully.
"I'm not going to stop," Fritz swiveled his head to grin at the boy. "Why don't you move to the back windows and keep us posted on what the fire is doing?"
Kenny moved away immediately.
Nola was aware that her racing pulse was beginning to slow. There were no more swirls of smoke in the headlights and the air was cool and clean.
"Nothing much surprises me," Fritz chuckled softly, not turning his head to look at Nola, "but I was kind of shocked, waltzing back into the brush and seeing them. You'd been watching them-all that time?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Nola said curtly, not looking at him.
His amused laugh brought a hot flush to her face and she knew that she was blushing with shame and guilt. Very softly, he teased her, "Hey, don't panic on me like that. Hell, when you gotta take a leak, you gotta take a leak. Fucking is like that, too. When people need a piece of tail and a hot screw, they need a piece of tail and a screw. Son of a gun!"
"Will you please shut up, Mr. Fleming?" Nola said weakly. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."
"The name is Fritz-I told you that, Miss Jones. Nola," he chuckled with easy amusement. Then he leaned forward, body tense, his lanky six-foot frame seemed coiled. "We're running out of canyon. There's the dead end."
He stomped hard on the brake and Terry and Kenny and blankets and packaged food skidded forward. "Hey, Boy, where's that damned cave? Goddamnit, there's fire above us!"
"Swing to the right," Kenny said tersely, "just drive right over the brush and you'll see it."
Nola braced her hands against the dash panel as Fritz shifted into low gear and swung the van sharply, sent it crashing through and over bushes. And there was a great, yawning black maw before them.
"Hope this hole in the hill has a solid bottom," Fritz muttered, aiming the Dodge into the darkness. He didn't stop until the vehicle was at least fifty feet from the opening. "Thank the Lord," Fritz said, voice softly crooning.
"Thank Kenny," Nola smiled tremulously, un-pocketing her flashlight and getting out gingerly. As she wandered around, inspecting the huge cavern, she asked, "Will we be trapped in here very long?"
"Maybe three or four days," Fritz called. "The water in this little stream that runs out of the mountain is cold and good. And we have plenty of food in the van. I think the first thing we better do is get things more or less organized for the rest of the night."
Nola warily strolled toward the mouth of the cave, watched the eerie orangish glow of the fire reflecting into the cave. She turned the flashlight beam on her watch-just a little before midnight. "I think," she called shakily, "I'm too keyed up to sleep."
She returned to the bus and stood watching Terry and Kenny unloading the blankets. She heard Fritz, with them in the van's headlights, agree, "That's right, split this stuff four ways." Then she heard him approaching her. "I'm going to cut the lights pretty soon. We'll need the battery." He passed her without speaking, striding out of the cave. In a few minutes he was back with an armload of firewood. Dropping it, he confronted Nola, "Come on and help me. There's a lot of it just outside the cave. We'll need it for light and to dispel the dampness in here."
Without a word, she followed him, held her arms for him to load them with wood. "How old is Terry?" he asked as they strode side by side back inside.
"Twenty-four, I think," Nola replied absently.
"And Kenny?"
"I don't know," she frowned. "Fourteen or fifteen."
"He's a real good kid-hard worker, husky. Must be built well in other areas, too," he laughed, amusement and mockery in his tone.
And Nola sensed she was blushing again.
While Fritz built a small fire about ten feet in front of the bus, Nola brought a box of sandwiches, four cups and a jug of coffee from the van.
Hunkered about the fire, eating, Terry said, "Kenny and I made down our beds over there. We left the other blankets behind you and Fritz, Nola. Is that okay?"
Nola looked up, saw the spread blankets at the flickering outer circle of the firelight. "Sure," she said dully. "Like I said, I don't think I can sleep."
"Who's going to sleep?" Terry laughed merrily, confidently.
Nola glanced quickly at Kenny who stared into the fire. She resented the warm flush that flowed like a fever through her, from her loins upward into her firm breasts. Her meaning certainly didn't escape Kenny. By the way Fritz lit a cigarette and flipped the match into the fire, she knew he hadn't missed her intentions, either.
Surely, Terry, she was tempted to blurt out, you haven't the gall to strip off your clothes and take this kid between your naked thighs and- fuck? With the rest of us here, watching?
But Terry's smirking smile and the slow, deliberate way she scratched at her crotch answered Nola's question more eloquently than spoken words. Sure, she would!
Nola dreaded the instant when Terry would make her move. Yet, her mind flirted with a morbid expectation. Would Terry and Kenny do it under the blankets-or on top.
"I'm going to turn in," Terry announced abruptly. "Give me a few minutes, Kenny."
For just a moment, Nola studied Kenny's solemn face, saw him lick nervously at his thin lips. The obedient stud, she was strangely envious of Terry's brazenness and forthcoming pleasure.
She stood and turned to spread the blankets allotted her into a pallet.
"Let me show you something," Fritz said, taking off his boots and Levi jacket. Deftly, he rolled his foot gear in the jacket and positioned it under the blankets. "Make a good, makeshift pillow."
Obscurely, Nola heard Kenny moving away from the fire, muted conversation behind her, near the far side of the cave. Her eyes took in Fritz Fleming on his knees beside his own blankets, the lumpy improvised pillow-and the prominent lumpiness elsewhere-in his khaki plants. I bet you could really show me something, she thought dully, perturbed by the drumming pulse beat in her breasts, in her crotch where there was an increasing heat and burning itchiness. She wondered if Fritz could see the throbbing veins in her throat.
Without a word, she turned her back to Fritz, sat on her blankets, drew up her feet and removed her boots and socks. She started to shuffle out of her jacket, felt Fritz' hands at the collar and the cuffs, helping her. "Thanks," she said tersely.
She fumbled ineptly with her boots and jacket, trying to emulate what he had done, then surrendered them to him as he laughed indulgently.
"Don't patronize me," she snapped curtly.
"Never," he chuckled.
Silently, she watched him replenish the fire, go to the van and return with cups of steaming coffee. Before the small campfire blossomed anew, she glanced toward the black, gaping entry to the cave and could see the dancing gleam of the flames outside.
"It's weird and scary," she said, an involuntary shudder vibrating through her body. She watched the tall, lean woodsman rise lithely to full height.
"Doesn't seem to bother Terry and Kenny," he laughed, low and amused.
Nola turned her head and squinted, trying to see beyond the campfire. Her heart bounced when Terry called out musically, "Hey, Kenny! You aren't going to sleep in your clothes, are you!" In a moment, she yipped gleefully, "Hey! That's the boy-man!"
She watched Fritz step around their spread blankets and strolled toward the van, balancing a cup of coffee in his right hand while he lit a cigarette.
"Get under the blankets-with me," Terry yelped. "Hurry-before your nice doggie catches distemper. And I got a nice doggie house under the blankets for him-all warm and fur-lined," she added.
Dumbly, Nola got to her feet and trailed Fritz to where he stood, a hand braced on the bus. Terry, you're a slut, she frowned, disgusted at the surge of excitement and anticipation that sprang from her aching loin upward through her flat tummy and into her hard-tipped breasts.
They're going to fuck, she whispered to herself. Right here and now-with us watching them.
She stood close beside Fritz, breathing hard and fast. She stole a glance at his face, surprised it wasn't gleaming with carnal appetites. But his features, sharp and craggy, were relaxed.
Amused, tolerant lights shone in his pale blue eyes. Stealthily, she lowered her gaze to the normal tenting of his pants, surprised and puzzled there was no abnormal bulge of genitals.
For a moment, Nola cowered as he loafed a long arm across her shoulders-companionably. No more in the gesture than if they were watching a tennis match. But that was no tennis match going on under the agitated blankets not fifteen feet from them. There were two fuzzy balls in play-and they were supplying the racket!
"A penny for your thoughts, Nola," Fritz whispered.
"Those I would sell you," she said, trying to be blase. To herself, she said, There isn't anything else of mine I'll sell you-at least not that cheaply.
"I'll pay you the penny tomorrow," he said with mock solemnity.
"I was thinking how brash and brazen they are-how lewd," she said hesitantly.
Before he could reply, Terry complained loudly, "Damnit, these blankets gotta go!" And there was a stormy thrashing and she kicked them away, leaving them both exposed, the naked youth between her splayed thighs, her feet jostling in the air above his lean, loping ass. "Come on, Stallion, get it in the old corral and let's ride the range together."
Kenny heaved forward over her, rolling her ass high as he barreled her back on her shoulders. "Oooohhhh, booooyyyy, you hit my hot little fuck-hole that time," Terry shrieked with delight. "Hunch me again-hard. Come on! Wait! Let me get my fingers on your pecker and guide it- you slipped out. Now! Plunge the prick to me."
Nola was uncomfortably aware of pricklings and tinglings of passion needling deep in her itching, burning vagina. Am I jealous of Terry -lying over there on her back, her feet kicked high in the air, with that kid between her thighs and jabbing his rock-hard penis into her?
Terry's cajoling whimperings seemed loud and distorted in the cave. "Come on, Kenny, brace your feet and force your cock into me. This is wonderful . . . Uh-uh-ugh . . . Ooohhh, your prick is big and my pussy is so tight. Faaaannnn-tastic! I feel it going now. So tight-so hard. I feel like your prick is really stretching my juicy little fuck-hole."
Nola was aware of a seepy, slimy hotness in her skivvies as she watched the boy's bobbing ass as he labored over Terry's supine body. The boy's grunts were deep and guttural, mingled with Terry's carnal, depraved pantings.
Nola's legs felt wobbly and muscles twitched in her thighs. Her buttocks tensed in hard bunches, the crack pinched tight over her butt hole. The squirmings of passion in her insides were almost maddening and her mind seemed to glaze with erotic yearnings.
She inhaled deeply and knew that Fritz must smell her musky female aroma. She knew, at his slightest urging, she would retreat to the blankets, lie down, let him strip her, would spread her legs and invite him on her to screw his cock deep into her succulent cunny.
The slosh-squish, slosh-squish of Kenny's prick gliding in and out of Terry's pussy was like a rhythm instrument supporting her high-pitched mewlings and squealings and whinings, encouraging him to "POUR THE PRICK TO ME!" she yelled suddenly, body humping frantically under him as she orgasmed.
A temptation that seemed to curdle her blood almost lured Nola across the short, intervening space so she could observe the lascivious meshing of boy and woman. But she drew back, instantly afraid she would break and ask Fritz to give her some.
The petting of Bob Chapman had never aroused her passions as they were from watching the young boy pump the prick into the immodest Terry.
Weakly, she sank to her blankets and watched Fritz join her with a mingling of eagerness and apprehension. "You virgin?" he asked quietly.
"Shit," she breathed. "I know what it's all about." She succumbed to the desire to tell him a little about herself. "I told someone I lost my- maidenhead-to a student in college. Not exactly the truth."
"Younger, huh?" Fritz guessed.
"Twelve," Nola replied.
"I was fourteen," Fritz responded, as if they were both confessing tragedies. He gestured with his coffee mug. "They turn you on, don't they?"
Nola bit the tender inner lining of a cheek. She exhaled slowly. "Goddamn! You've heard of sympathetic illness? Where a person suffers the symptoms of sickness of a friend?" She laughed self-deprecatingly. "I can feel it-his prick punching me."
Nola was dizzily aware of Fritz' hands undoing her clothes, but she remained stoic, if not calm. A delicious shiver went through her as she felt the faint draft of the cave against the bare skin of her back. "I was twelve, the first time. An uncle did it to me," she said, voice dreamy, docilely shifting her body about so he could strip her down to bra and wet panties.
"I lost my cherry in tent-church," Fritz said. "There was a revival meeting in this little town. There was a woman minister. She was about forty and holier than thou. And there was a 'sister'-about twenty-five. She was in charge of distributing hymnals and passing the collection plates and played the out-of-tune piano and led the singing."
Nola was silently, locked her fingers, arms folded around her updrawn knees. She mumbled "don't," but didn't mean it as he slipped the hooks of her bra. She stiffened as he eased the halter forward to free her luscious breasts from the cups, but she deigned to let him pull the straps from her arms, keeping her hands clasped.
She dropped her face to watch his hands mold around the sloping cones of her tits, his fingers and thumbs forcing the nipples to ripe, tumescent points. "Do you enjoy this?" she challenged him.
"As long as you do, sure," he said, mouth close to her face, breath blowing softly in her right ear. "About the nicest set of jugs I ever had my fingers on."
Without moving in protest, Nola said, "You aren't-we aren't going to do anything," she whispered. "Don't get the idea we're going to do what Terry and Kenny are doing."
"Not going to do what?" he laughed softly, fingers dipping under the waistband of her moist skivvies. She shuddered with pleasure as one of his fingernails dug delectably into her belly button and little spasms of erotic fantasies ping-pinged deep in her loins.
"Not going to-fuck," Nola said poutily, damning her obliging knees for drifting apart to permit him to palm the upward curve of her pussy. "Oooooohhhhh," she sighed, toes curling as he ran a finger deeply into her sex-hissing vulva and scraping her tumid clit.
"Want to tell me about your first time?" Fritz encouraged.
"Do you want to tell me about yours?" she retorted.
"You first," Fritz needled, his left arm, supporting her back as she tossed her head back as he began finger-fucking her slowly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nola laughed shakily, quietly savoring his big, rough finger sliding snugly in and out of her passion-gooey cunny. "Heck, Fritz," she murmured, not minding that her fanny was sliding back and forth in its own coital motion, "I was just twelve-that was-sixteen years ago. You expect me to remember something like that?"
She liked the feel of his broad palm sliding down her back to just above the flare of her hips as he expertly worked her over with his hand buried in the deep, shadowy Vee between her parted thighs. "I don't think a girl ever forgets when she was de-flowered," Fritz chuckled softly, indulgently. "I know that I remember, indelibly clear, my first piece of tail."
"Boys would," Nola sniffed-and smelled the musky, warm aroma of her pussy that was snuck-led around his enchanting digit. Hazily, she wished he would stop fooling and fingering around and get down to business and take off his clothes and give it to her with his nature-intended tool.
"I was-I was just a blooming twelve," she said, voice labored because he was drawing her out, near a juicy climax. "Oooooooh, Lordy, I'm cumming, Fritz." And he began jabbing his fuck-finger in and out of her faster and faster, twisting it back and forth in a rotary motion as he diddled her clutching twat.
"It was on a Friday," she panted, eyes closed as she savored the sweet nuances of orgasm. "My uncle picked me up right after school to take me to the mountains with the rest of the family for a Fourth of July outing. Ooooooohhhhh, Fritz, that's soooooooo good, your finger in me. Keep finger-fucking me like that and I'll faint from sheer pleasure."
"Go on," he whispered, kissing her ear, her cheek, her throat, her hot, dry lips the sculpted ivory crowns of her titties, the turgid nipples.
"He was-he was-he was in his thirties-like a second father." She struggled to talk as ripples of erotic delight continued rippling outward from the center of her womanhood. "We had a car breakdown about halfway to the camp. In the middle of nowhere. And it was getting dark and was still so hot."
Nola arched her back so she could curve her pussy and tingling mound outward and upward into his palm. "He suggested I take a swim in the small river nearby while he worked on the car. I didn't-I didn't think anything of going down behind some bushes and taking off my clothes and-and -Ooooooh, Fritz, suck my titties and finger-fuck me fast again!-slipping into the water."
"You provoked him to do it to you," Fritz teased accusingly.
"Nooooooooooo," Nola whined, thrusting her snatch out and up to get all of his finger. She laughed nervously from the memory. "I was developing. Okay? But my breasts weren't big; I had just-a little bit of fuzz around it and I had never given sex a thought."
She groaned with ecstasy-and wouldn't have minded if he had worked one of his other fingers into her rectum and finger-fucked both holes. "I do remember I'd experienced some itching down there-a burning-and it scared me sometimes. But I'd never thought about sex. I'd never, even seen a man's things-yet." Nola paused, remembering. "But I saw a man's whole ball of wax and string-the works that evening in the hills . . ."
Little Nola, the water around her neck as she squatted in the cool flow of the water, watched her uncle stride to the edge of the quiet river. "I can't get it running," he said. "Maybe it's just vapor-locked and needs to cool off. Same as I do. Is that river big enough for both of us to take a swim?"
"Sure," Nola piped, flinging a hand across the surface of the water to splash at him. "It's fabulous and I sure am hot."
"Hot, huh?" her uncle grinned.
She didn't know what she had expected, but her breath caught with faint fright and anticipation as she watched him strip off his shirt and shed his shoes and pants. She guessed she had expected him to leave his shorts on. But he skinned out of them and stood there facing her, the water just flowing around his ankles. And her gaze was riveted on the profuse forest that grew out from between his legs and covered the lower portion of his belly. And there were those ugly, but fascinating appendages. His testicles and penis- which he lifted in his hand, seeming to point the hose of flesh at her.
A sense of consternation wormed through her and she stood up, not knowing whether to flee or remain where she was. And she was acutely aware of his eyes on the plump little knobs of flesh beginning to expand on her chest. And she sat back down in the water.
Then his soft laughter, almost mocking and amused, soothed her and he flung his body outward into the current and swam across the river and back, circling her. "Don't you swim?" he chided her, standing beside her. And she watched the water run down his muscular body and drip from the bulgy end of his thing. The water had taken the kinkiness out of his pubic hair and it hung in strings from his groin and his prominent balls.
"I haven't learned yet," she said sheepishly, glad he sat down, but kind of regretting she couldn't explore his male things with her eyes. "I'm just a splasher-yet," Nola smiled wanly. A kind of forbidden excitement coursed in her blood as she tried to digest the fact she was in the river alone with a naked man-even if he was her uncle. And she was naked, too. And he had seen her naked, his eyes had rubbered around over the little gourds on her front that had been an embarrassment to her at times. And there was such a tremendous difference in boys and girls-between their legs, that is.
"I thought you were taking swim lessons in P.E. class," her uncle peered into her timid eyes.
"We are," she said, voice hushed and painful, "but I just haven't gotten the hang of it. Can't even float."
He patted her cheek and flung himself out into the current again, swimming strongly. And she stared after him, at the hard, white loaves of his male ass as they broke the surface. She swallowed hard, dryly when he turned onto his back and let the current float him past her. His big balloon between his legs floated on the water and his long hunk of meat lolled up across his lean, hard belly.
Her brain quickly made a comparison between girl and boy again. And, instinctively, she guessed why men and women were different. Intuitively, she knew that her uncle's penis would become rigid-probably much thicker and longer-and it was made to do that so he could put it in a woman. Down there between her legs where there was just a slanted parting of the flesh and she had a hole. That was why she was built the way she was and he was the way he was. And his piece of flesh had to get hard and stiff-how else could he get it to go in her hole?
"I just splash-so far," Nola said awkwardly.
"Want me to give you a lesson in swimming?" her uncle smiled. "I'm a pretty good teacher-of swimming-and other things. Nola-honey, it ain't hard to learn to swim. All you need to learn anything is a good, patient, tender teacher. Let vie show you a few things."
"Okay," she said, remaining in water up to her neck.
"Well, stand up and come on," he chided her. "Stand up and wade out here where it's a little deeper. Try to swim there and you'll skin your knees on the rocky bottom."
Curiosity kindled in her-and the young girl knew it wasn't just the idea of how her uncle would teach her to swim. She stood and waded after him, into deeper water. She only half-heard his directions on how she should kick her legs and feet in a scissoring motion. And when he demonstrated how to use her arms, his left elbow brushed gently against one of the tender little fruits on her bony chest, bringing a sweet tingling to the tiny dark button on the tip of the flesh that hadn't yet started coning.
"Understand?" her uncle smiled.
She nodded, eyes straying out across the water, not looking down, but knowing his intriguing parts dangled beneath the surface of the water only a foot or so from where her so dissimilar counterpart was positioned.
"Just lie out across my arms," he instructed, "and begin working your arms and legs the way I showed you. Take your time until you get the hang of it."
The hang of it, her uneducated mind pondered -and her thoughts were warmly preoccupied with those things of his that were hanging under the water.
Timidly, she floundered out across his forearms, keenly aware of one of his bony wrists crushing the buds of womanhood and the other supporting her tummy-just inches away from the suddenly tingling slit between her legs.
She struggled briefly as he let her face dip into the water and she swallowed water. Quickly, he held her up. "Now start kicking your feet- keep your legs sorta stiff."
She wanted to see that part of him stiff- more than sorta! Obediently, she began kicking timidly. "That's great," he complimented and she glowed with appreciation. And his left hand had slipped from her tummy and she could feel his thumb between her slender thighs, pressing against the fattiness of her girl-place. And his other hand was cupped across her chest, the heel mashing one little tittie and finger-tips pressing firmly into the other.
"Am I swimming ?" Nola asked as her legs and arms slashed and flailed the water. But she didn't care; her attention seemed to be focusing on the thumb that had slid into her little split, creating sharp wonderful sparks of excitement deep inside her.
She almost protested as he withdrew the hand from her tummy, but instantly it was brushing against the rounded mounds of her butt and he slid his fingers in between her white legs and she could feel them parting them, inside the sensitive crease.
Unaccountably, her kicking became less concerted and her feet were far apart. And his palm commanded a position that held her curvy little crotch. "Don't let my head down," she gurgled and spit out water.
"No way," he promised.
And Nola grew almost still in the water, relaxing and letting him gently nudge one of his fingers into her. And all her senses told her he was sticking it in her pee-hole. And it felt strange and really kind of wonderful. But it did create a stiffness in her hips and a hind of ache inside her.
She could feel it penetrating her and she found herself liking it-the foreign sensation. And she liked the way his other hand was gently, demandingly, too, massaging her super-sensitive little globes. "You're gonna have fantastic jugs," he said. "And a box full of fruit-a ripe cherry," he seemed to gloat with appreciation.
Nola didn't understand what he was talking about, but she suspected that it had something to do with a tinkle of pain and his finger stopping. He just let it stay there, intruding into the throbbing little hole between her legs. Tentatively, he let his hand fall away from her bosom and she threshed her arms.
And the finger sticking into her virginal little twat held her on top of the water. Slowly, he let her middle sag into the water until her feet found the bottom. But he kept his finger up her, with her back to him. She emitted a faint, "Eeeekkk," as he crooked his finger and towed her backwards.
She wanted to turn around and look at the firm hotness touching her back, beneath the water. Oh, she knew what it was, his dangling meat had grown stiff and was touching her. But, she wanted to see it in that condition.
"Hot little hole," he breathed against her wet, stringy hair. And Nola almost blurted out boldly that he had a hot big thing against her back. She stared at the far bank, but didn't see it, or the three deer that had approached the water, then blended away into the shadowy timber.
An unsated tremor ebbed through her as he extracted his finger, leaving her little gash throbbing, her dainty hole pulsating. She wouldn't look up into his face as he turned her and pulled her frail young body against his full hardness. She stifled a gasp of surprise as his hard pillar of flesh crushed into her belly, the hot point reaching far above her belly button.
His hands on her bottom provoked a thousand delectable shocks in her innards and she loved her titties being flattened against his ribs. She sighed softly as he began rubbing himself against her-she would learn in years ahead that this was a form of 'dry-fucking'.
She looped her arms around his neck as he bent his knees and lifted her, hands on her lean, quivering buttocks. She could feel her girl-gash resting against the protuberance of his bloated ball-bag.
Although her eyes were closed, she was aware of his wading from the water and carrying her along the shore. "Nice, sandy, secluded little beach here," he breathed. She clung to him mightily as he bent to lay her down.
"Aaaahhhh," she sighed as the still-warm sand titillated her skin, from butt to shoulders and along her back in between.
She let him push her feet up and away, his hands pushing her knees far apart. Nola raised her head to look down to see what he was seeing: Her skin-bare crotch-except for a sprinkling of fine hair. And she got a close look at him as he stood on his knees between her spread thighs. And her eyes bugged as she stared at the mammoth tusk of flesh and heavy balls, still dripping water.
For a moment, her eyes questioned him, but she made no sound as he leaned over her, let his huge, obscene, yet exciting hunk of meat sag onto her taut tummy. She watched as he took his huge sausage near where it protruded from his crotch and bent it into her Vee. And she couldn't see anymore so she let her" head loll back on the smooth, warm sand. To wait-and enjoy, she hoped.
"Wooooowwwweeeeee," she gasped as he used the bloated head to separate the immature outer lips of her pussy and swab it up and down her narrow groove, evoking really neat sensations when he prodded one tender place at the top of her little sex-smile.
"It won't hurt," he soothed her.
"You sure?" she asked poutishly. Nola was aware her feet had lifted, unbidden, from the sand to curve her virginal receptacle upward in an arch so he could do his business unhindered.
"That's the way to cooperate," he praised her. And Nola took a deep breath, held it as she awaited the unknown, felt the increase of pressure against the tender inner folds of her vulva.
"It won't hurt?" she whined, first doubt and helplessness hitting her mind as he pressed the big, bluntish end against what she knew was the entry to her body. It was aimed right at her little hot pee-hole.
"No. Maybe a little-at first," he confessed.
"Aaaaiiiiieeeee!" she gurgled, sensing a creaking of her bones as he dobbed it at her with little lurches of his hips.
"Easy," he admonished softly. "Tight little cunt," he panted.
"Heeeeeeyyyyy!" Nola shrieked, not liking his hand over her face and mouth. And she felt some of his tusk forced into her. It caused a ripple of pain and burning even in her little butt hole.
"Easy, Nola-honey," he kissed her forehead where little beads of sweat had sprung out. "Your cunny sure pinches your uncle's prick. But it will be good and sweet. You'll see."
A scream died in her throat as she felt a splitting sensation as he labored his cock into her snug, cringing little pussy.
She tried to cower away from the intrusion, but the scrape of sand on her shoulders and back and the crowns of her butt discouraged her. Besides, he clasped his hands against her hip bones and held her down, in place.
"Baby, I wish you could watch my prick spearing into your little twat. That's the worst part of being a woman and fucking-a woman can't watch a guy's prick banging her snatch. All she can do is lie on her back, or go down on all fours and take his prick up her snatch or asshole and enjoy it."
Nola thought she could hear a squeaking noise as his big bone stretched the walls of her little hole. Enjoy it? It hurts, she frowned, eyes pinched tight against tears. She felt so helpless. And there was a kind of humiliating and embarrassing lewdness, being sprawled out on the sand, held down on her back and having him plow his monstrous meat into her naked body.
And he had said something about a man sticking his thing in a woman's-a woman's asshole. Ugh, she thought with distaste, mind visualizing what it would look like and feel like, having such a huge organ shoved up her back hole.
"Aaaagggggggghhhhhhh," she screamed with alarm, feeling a tearing and stab of pain all the way into her scalp.
"Tough little skin," her uncle gasped. "But you ain't got no cherry no more."
Nola's eyes fluttered wildly at the brutal penetration. And all her senses were keenly aware of the slow, steady invasion of her little cunt by his massive, relentless cock.
Nola had no conception of how much of his prick she was absorbing, but she could feel him stuffing it into her, hear his panting breath as he worked his hips, stabbing and lunging until her little belly felt swollen and bloated and her tiny little lips were contorted and stretched out of shape.
"Oh, Baby, what a sweet, tight fuck you're gonna be. I hope we can do it a lot. And I'll teach you the joys of being cornholed. And I'll take you to drive-in movies and you can learn how to give me a blow job. You'll love going down on me and sucking my prick. I'll teach you to be the best little cock-sucker in the country."
Please stop, Nola was about to yell. But he had stopped. She was aware of an increasing heat inside her, all around his implanted prick that was soaking inside her pussy. She could feel his hard groin bone against her little mound and his big, hairy balls lolling in the parted crack of her ass, teasing her tight little butt hole. Slowly, her channel walls began to coil and undulate around his grotesque cock buried to the balls in her twat. And there was surge after surge of hot, liquid pleasure all through her and she didn't want him to stop. And she was fearful that this was all there was to-fucking and being fucked.
"You like it, Baby," he breathed, kissing her lips. "I can feel your sphincters begging for cock, wanting to be fucked by my big cock."
"What happens now?" she asked timidly, hoping, praying there was more than this to-fucking and being fucked.
He laughed gleefully and kissed her forehead. "I'll show you, Honey."
With his hands, he elevated her feet so that her entire cuntal area was arched upward to his intruding dong. He held her flanks, lightly but firmly and began fucking in and out of her slowly, tantalizing her with the snug rub of his passion-engorged cock against the lovely, snug walls of her young cunt.
"This is real fucking," he panted, beginning to saw his bludgeon into her with long, fast strokes.
"I feel so queeeeeeerrrrrr," Nola squealed, her body shaking and her pelvis grinding and bolting upward to receive the smooth inward thrust of his monstrous, vibrating prick.
"My God," he yelled triumphantly, "you're cumming, Baby. You're climaxing all over the sand your first time out. Come on, Honey, fuck with me and I'm gonna shoot your little snatch full of jizz."
A little later, he helped her dress. Arms about each other, they went to the car. "Like fucking and being fucked?" he asked.
Nola nodded silently.
It was now dark and silent and cool in the mountains. And the car started. They paused on a minor summit and he pointed to the velvety skies encrusted with millions of stars. "Did you like it, Nola?"
She responded to his gesture and slid across the seat to sit beside him. "I can still," she began timidly, voice just above a whisper, "feel your big thing in me, sliding in and out, deep and hard and thick and so hot. And I 'bout-pooped-when you gushed inside me. And your-peter-swelled up so huge."
"You like cock, huh?"
She wouldn't look at him, embarrassed and enthralled at what they had done together, on the warm sand, she on her back, he between her legs, pumping up and down over her, pouring his mammoth prick into her little, almost-hairless pussy. "I guess so." She shrugged her frail shoulders, snuggled against him. "Yes, I did."
She moved her right arm so his big hand could slip under and palm her gentle breast protuberance. "It was very fascinating and-fun," she added. "Yes, I liked it."
Before he put the car in motion again, he unzipped his pants and guided her right hand inside the fly so she could play with his cock and balls.
"Baby, I like fucking you so much, I wish I could get you a necklace strung with stars."
She laughed joyfully, glad to be with him, liking the feel of the firm rubberiness of his prick-that had been hunched into her so vigorously until it took her breath away-and the hot warmth of his big balls. "Silly, you can't do that."
"I know," he said, kissing her hair, scooting forward on the seat so she could get both hands inside his pants on his feverish genitals. "Anything you'd like that I can do?"
She squeezed both hands down on his fattening prick. "Do you suppose-late tonight-after everyone is asleep-we could slip away from camp ?
"And you could fuck me some more ?"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nola stopped talking, tensed to enjoy every talented movement of Fritz' finger inside her agitated pussy. "That," she shuddered through a spell-binding climax, "was the first time I ever was-" she felt herself blushing "-fucked."
Fritz nuzzled her graceful neck. "The first time."
"And not the last," she laughed ruefully. "There were nights in the backyard, in the backseats of cars, at the movies. But I never did get around to going down on him."
She laid back so Fritz could minister a finger into her butt hole after crudely removing her panties. "Aaaaaggggghhhhh," she groaned with relish. "I never blew his cock. He never- Oooohhhh, that's delicious-cornholed me, either. He ate my cunny for me, though. I liked that. But not as much as having him fuck me."
Clumsily, she helped him out of his clothes while he kept his fingers socked to the first knuckles in her bowels and her honey pot. She had worked herself into a position of being on all-fours, presenting her rear end to him, so he could continue his digital work on her two seething passages.
Also, it allowed her a first-hand close-up of his paraphernalia. She inspected his over-grown stud equipment minutely, pealing back the foreskin to examine the immense red glans, the thick corona, the heavy shaft that would measure at least eight inches, not including the glans. And she weighed the contents of his nut basket in the palm of a sweaty hand. "How do you charge?" she marveled, "By the pound? The quart?"
She heaved her unprotected naked ass back onto his active fingers and purred and cooed as he brought her to an anal and vaginal orgasm.
"Want to suck my cock?" Fritz asked casually as she slowly jacked him off with both hands.
Nola studied the big snake eye and squeezed a fine honey like a tear drop from it. "I don't think so," she said studiously. "I will another time, though," she said cheerfully, hoping she didn't disappoint him. "Marvelously huge torpedo," she blew her hot breath on the smooth-skinned head. "I think I'd rather have this missile fired into my submarine. Want to take me on dog-fashion? Or do you want to fuck me with me on my back? I like cock shafted in me both ways." She almost added he could give her a hard cornholing, if he wanted to. But she so needed several pounds of prick pounded into her pussy right then.
Fritz didn't reply, but she heard the faint rustle of his movement. In a moment, he mounted her, his hairy chest rubbing harshly like sandpaper up over the smooth, rounded cheeks of her defenseless butt. He wrapped his long arms around her waist. Fingers of one hand doodled the outer lips of her pussy apart into a wide, reddish grin and the other lifted his heavy projectile and he propelled it with an almost savage lunge right up her snatch, almost into her womb.
"Goddddddaaaaammmmmnnnn," Nola exhaled, feeling faint from the unexpected plunge of prodigious prick into her craving and sex-craven pussy.
His fingers dug into her quivering flanks. Nola gasped for breath. "Do you always try to split a woman from asshole-pussy to belly button when you slam your cock into her? I wasn't going to suck your cock right now-and I think you just gave me a tonsillectomy. I truly believe I can taste your salty cock and could just about chew on the head."
But she scooched her ass back on his impaling prod so that she had all of him, the outer lips of her cunny wrapped around the bole of his pussy-buster like a fleshy envelope.
"You got a wife?" she managed between moans of sheer ecstasy as he rotated his hips, reaming out her snug, gripping cavern.
"No," he huffed, hauling his cock out slowly and stuffing it back in quickly so that his husky balls slap-slapped loudly against her Venus mound.
Nola steadied herself by resting her forward weight on her head and a shoulder so she could reach down past her belly and feel his thick piston pumping in and out of her drippy snatch. "Love that perfect fit of cock and cunny," she whispered.
"Your twat is hot as an oven," Fritz grunted, rocking and socking the cock into her. "It feels just like you got the old mallard in a stewing pot."
"Only way to treat a ducky-wucky when we fucky," Nola chirped, rolling her body back so that her fanny smacked his groin on his forward, inner thrust. She caught his bag of big goodies and held them firmly against her stretched cuntal lips, applying pressure against her unsheathed clit that protruded from the warped smile of her coital crevice.
There was a wild singing in her ears as he bored and burrowed his prick into her farthest depths. She thought that the aroma of sex had never been more tantalizing, sniffing deeply of the musky, warm odor. And the solid sound of meat pounding into meat was a wonderful drumbeat in her ears.
"Aaaaiiiiieeee! Wonderrrrrrrful," she wheezed, letting her ass fly as he punched deep and she ripped into a roaring orgasm. Vaguely, she felt a shift of pressure of his hands. An arm looped down under her heaving belly and she felt a fumbling around her asshole.
She knew what he was contemplating, but before she could protest, he slipped his cock out of her spasming snatch and rammed it full-bore up her butt chute.
"Noooooooo!" she squalled-not giving a fuck-damn if Terry and Kenny heard. But he had already ripped his monstrous pole into her bowels and he was fucking her fast, pouring prick into her guts and she felt his head grow, his shaft expand and she knew that in four or five fast, deep thrusts he was going to unload his thick jizz in her asshole. But that was okay; he had shoved half of his fist into her snatch and she was cumming. . . .
"Oooooh, you son of a gun," she finally managed, sort of gloating over the erotic, heavenly feeling of his cannon exploding rampantly deep in her tempest-torn butt hole as he hosed gush after gush of torrid semen into her sex-famished rear canal.
"You really unwind your ball of yarn when you zero in on a gal's tightest, hottest hole, don't you," she gurgled, reveling in the massive prick-bloating of her ass and his doubled fingers churning up a tornado in her cunt.
Her ecstasy was so complete she began shaking her body as a dog would, setting her gorgeous, down-dangling tittie cones to swaying like inverted bells.
"Ding-dong, ding-dong," she laughed joyfully, "I got a long dong ringing my sex-bells."
"Shut up and keep fucking," Fritz chortled, again starting to pump his prick in and out of her asshole. Obediently, Nola matched his forward hunch with a backward toss of her passion-tormented bottom, capturing and biting down on his cock with her strong anal muscles.
"Can you ejaculate again?" she panted, fingers tangling in her hair as she clamored toward another tumultuous climax. "I hope you can," she added, really gorging herself on his appetizing bologna. "Fritz-darling, see if you can spear it up my ass on one stroke, pull it out on the back stroke, then fuck it into my pussy on the next heavenly push into me."
He missed the first time and the hot, throbbing head of his hard dick careened back into her bowels. "Missed that time," he grunted. But he slammed it into her cuntal bull's-eye the next try.
They quickly made the proper angle adjustments between her rectum and her vagina and never missed a plundering beat. "Whoopie!" Nola yelled triumphantly, "This is the way to fuck. Pump the prick to me! Slam it deep up my ass- in my twat! Just remember, I want you to shoot your jizz in my pussy this time."
When he climaxed, she followed just a beat or so behind him. He socked his cock to the balls in her cunt and lifted her up off her knees and she was pinioned in mid-air by his impaling phallus.
"Glug-glug-glug," Nola yipped, "I think your wonderful jizz is flowing into my throat and I can taste salty pecker. Keep it coming, Fritz. Fill my pussy to the hairy brim with cum."
In 1958, God was not dead; religion was not waning. At least the spirit burned bright in the hearts and minds of Reverend Jessica and Sister Roberta. As they supervised erection of the huge circus tent for a week of summer revival services in one end of the park in the small farming community, they exuded warmth and fellowship and brother-sisterhood.
Fritz Fleming was glad the revival had come to town when it did for a variety of reasons. The annual harvest was in and he was jobless. He wielded a heavy mallet with other men in driving steel tent pegs with a solid week of work guaranteed, kept on by the Reverend to set up benches and steel folding chairs and running errands.
And, when they found out he was an orphan there was mention of his accompanying them when the Lord's work was done in this town and moving on to the next with them, driving the Reverend's and Sister's station wagon. They would discuss his attending school when the time came, wherever they might be.
Whenever he looked up, from whatever he was doing, one of them or the other would be nearby, watching him. In their black or white service robes-like nuns or angels in Fritz eyes-they always had a warm smile, kind words and the stainless steel lidded buckets with iced tea or water.
He thought Sister Roberta would spend all of her time lingering near him, if Reverend Jessica didn't keep shooing her away to "take refreshments to others helping with this drudgery part of the Lord's work".
There was no speculating on their ages, Fritz pondered. Only one thing he was fairly certain of was that Reverend Jessica must be in her forties and Sister Roberta was no more than twenty-five.
He based his appraisal of Reverend Jessica's age on her facial features. When she would talk to him, her face only a foot or so from his, he could see lines at the comers of her eyes and her mouth, lines that careful application of cosmetics disguised at a distance. And he suspected she wore false teeth by the way she would pause sometimes in mid-sentence and kind of grind her jaws-silently, of course.
And he knew a slim waitress at the town's only cafe who was twenty-five or six. Sister Roberta's skin was just as smooth and glowing as the waitress-on whom he had a crush, but would never be able to more than touch her hand when she handed him a bottle of Coke.
And, if anything, Sister Roberta was even more flirty than the waitress who grew excitingly vivacious when the young men of the town were hovering around her.
Fritz had stolen long glances at Sister Roberta when she wasn't watching-or he didn't think she was. She would stretch the flowing robes against her body with her arms, accenting the smooth curve of hip and thigh, or use her hands to brush it against her front so that it welled breathtakingly over the sloping crowns of her bosom. And, sometimes as she walked, she would lift the hem of the robe almost to the knee to exhibit curvy calves and slender, trim ankles. And she didn't wear flat-soled shoes as did Reverend Jessica. She would step daintily over the close-cropped grass of the park in tiny, pointed-toed slippers with high heels. And the slippers were white and black and blue and green.
Fritz had heard one of the men laugh and speculate that she wore slippers the color that matched her undies. He had never seen a girl's undies-not while she was in them, anyway- and the possibility of that caused his heart to bounce loudly in his chest. He'd seen women's underwear on clotheslines in backyards, but there was nothing stimulating about that.
Fritz was positioned at the entry to the cavernous tent each evening, feeling proud and important, wearing a black robe Reverend Jessica supplied. He greeted the worshipers and handed out pamphlets, brochures and pictures of the Reverend Jessica and Sister Roberta. He stood behind a miniature pulpit with a bucket suspended in it to catch "contributions to the Lord's work".
During services, he sat on a folding steel chair with Sister Roberta seated on a chair across the entry from him, holding collection plates in her lap. When he caught her glowing eyes on him, he blushed slightly and grew uncomfortably warm.
And he wondered if she wasn't warm, too, by the way she sedately lifted the robe above her knees so that the hem rested across her thighs, just above the knees. He hoped she thought he was peering at the ground, intent on the sermon Reverend Jessica was delivering in a firm, musical voice. But his eyes were rolled upward and he was rejoicing-not in the message of the Lord-in the heavenly sight of white, smooth skin of her legs. At times, he was certain he could have determined whether the blue shoes she wore were the same color as her panties, if they hadn't been sitting in deep shadows. But the view of so much of her creamy inner thigh-planes left him rapt and almost breathless. She must not have known he was ogling her-he had never seen so much of a woman before-except at the community swimming pool. But girls in bathing suits didn't count. She smiled at him so virtuously when his gaze did drift from the trodden grass to her face.
Then, at the conclusion of Sunday evening services that terminated the week of the "Old-time Revival," Sister Roberta paused to whisper on her way forward with the collection plates, "Reverend Jessica wants you to join her in our trailer as soon as she leaves the pulpit."
A coldness gripped him as he watched the smiling Reverend Jessica shaking hands and "blessing" people. He just knew that they had changed their minds about his accompanying them.
He stood numbly shaking hands with men and women imbued with the spirit of God and brotherhood, not hearing their murmurs of "Brother, God be with you."
As he watched Reverend Jessica finally depart from the low stage, lifting her robes so as not to impede her stride, Fritz was aware of a hot, clammy sweat that wasn't all from the hot summer night. The wink and slow smile Reverend Jessica flashed in his direction, brought a flush of reassurance. For a moment, he watched Sister Roberta occupied at a small table, emptying collection plates into cloth bags and talking brightly with the last lingerers. And he slipped out of the tent into the darkness that was partly dispelled by a half-moon and chunky stars. He hurried along the tent, carefully avoiding guy ropes and stakes to the rear where the women's trailer was parked.
A light was lit somewhere near the rear of the trailer and Fritz hesitated at the door. "Come in, Fritz," Reverend Jessica called. And Fritz wondered how she could time his arrival so precisely -if she hadn't been watching for him.
He pushed back the screen door, stepped inside and closed it, eyes blurred in the half-light. "Come back here, please, Fritz."
He stepped into the tiny kitchen area and the light was better. "In the back," Reverend Jessica advised. And he slid a panel to one side and stood peering into the rear bedroom he presumed the two women shared. Unless the sofa was made down in front.
For a moment, he was speechless, watching Reverend Jessica drop ice cubes from an ice bucket into two glasses and slosh them full of gin.
She had discarded the nun-like cowl she had always worn before when he was present and her hair was so black it seemed to glint with deep purple lights. "Truly a triumph," she laughed softly, mentioning a projected revenue figure for the week, which escaped him.
"Unzip my robe, please, Fritz," she murmured. "I'll not fix Sister Roberta's drink until she arrives. It's so cursed hot tonight. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, Reverend Jessica," he replied, fingers trembling as she backed to him, sipping a glass of gin, holding one out for him-when he finished with the zipper.
"Please, hurry, Fritz. I feel very stuffy in this thing. Can't you see the zipper tab ?"
She shook her long hair so that it fell over her left shoulder and he could see the nape of her neck and the little silver-colored zipper tab. He lowered the zipper a few inches and paused.
"Run it all the way down," she said, a little brusquely. "The zipper runs halfway to my knees."
Fritz drew a deep breath and skidded the zipper which emitted a little metallic hum. And he gasped silently as Reverend Jessica shook her shoulders and the flowing garment cascaded away and she turned to face him, wearing only black panties and a matching black, lacy bra.
"Your drink," she smiled, lips twitching, eyes teasing, laughing at his stunned expression. He drank without tasting as his eyes filled with wonderment-and the vision of her voluptuousness, breasts huge and about to overflow the low-cut cups. The waist of the panties curved across her tummy, far below her navel.
She backed away and sat on the edge of the bed. "Was I good tonight?" He nodded and she laughed gaily, eyes twinkly, again teasing him, filled with amusement at his bewilderment.
Delicately, she crossed one long, tapering thigh over the other. For a time, Fritz forgot to breath, gulping the raw gin without realizing it. His wildest imaginings could never match the enchanting sight before his eyes-two great globes of luscious femaleness seemingly perched in the cradle nets of her brassiere.
His obvious, blushing confusion triggered musical laughter from her full, unrouged lips. "If you didn't feel the spirit at services tonight," she winked, "you have it all the way- to your very roots."
Fritz sort of wished he could cower away from her luminous, black eyes riveted just below his waist. And he almost wished he had worn the black robe instead of discarding it and leaving it flounced over the iron chair in the tent that was already being struck by willing townspeople and the three old men who drove the huge truck that towed the trailer.
"Yes, you present a heavenly sight," Reverend Jessica breathed, eyes still on his bulging crotch. She handed him her glass and indicated he should refill it for her. He sloshed gin on his left hand as he heard the dim creak of the bed as she stood and stepped in close behind him; "God created man in his own image," she seemed to be mocking him, deftly working a hand into his left front trousers pocket, "and tonight I feel the need to get very near to God-or at least one of his images."
Fritz struggled to set the bottle back on the little table and clasped the glass in both hands to keep from dropping it as her hand itched hotly against his boy-man genitals.
"Sister Roberta may come in," Fritz groaned, innocent fright and embarrassment choking down his voice.
"I expected her before now," Reverend Jessica breathed deeply into his short-cropped hair and dabbled the tip of her hot, moist tongue in one of his ears.
"You have the idols of absolute divinity," Reverend Jessica purred, voice deep, almost a growl as she huffed her breath into his ear. Her hand, even through his pocket, coiled expertly around the hot hose of his peter that was growing snake-long down his left pants leg. "Good old St. Peter, standing over two rocks," she growled, not very reminiscent of reverence.
Fritz wondered what to do with the drink he had poured for her. He would like to have both hands free as he felt her move snugly against him, her hot, naked thighs against his, her huge jugs of enticement plumped against his trembling back.
Her right hand adeptly parted his belt and his fly zipper and skidded his shorts. "Holy Moses," she chuckled delightedly. One hand-he didn't know which-glided firmly up and down the full rough erection of him and the other fondled his aching, throbbing, hurting balls.
It was only for a fleeting moment, but Fritz knew her hands had left his vital parts, then were back. And he knew what she had done in that moment, for now her heavy, sloping jugs were pressed bare against his back and it seemed he could feel the coarse nipples burning right through his shirt and down against the hard cheeks of his ass, her pubic bush grated like emery paper.
"The shepherd and his flock," Reverend Jessica gloated, one hand jacking him off industriously while the other played with his excited balls, sending excruciating pleasure shooting from the blazing tip of his penis into his loins and to his thumping heart.
"Oooooooohhhh," Reverend Jessica moaned, "I want to take your shepherd into my chapel and leave your two lambs-rams-playing on my grass."
Fritz felt as if he were hypnotized. He had only dreamed of a woman doing this to him-and even if she didn't get around to taking him all the way, it was better than flogging his dummy.
"I want your rod and your staff to comfort me," she pursued, voice now thick with what Fritz read as glutting passion. He nearly came in her masturbating hand as she humped her hairy crotch against his ass and he thought she was trying to mount him as he had seen feisty heifers cavort in the surrounding pastures.
"OOOOOhhhhhhhhh, Jesus," she wailed-and Fritz knew she was not about to embark on an evangelical dissertation of saving souls. The only soul she was concerned with was that one between her legs, the one guarded by curtains of pink, hot, moist fleshy curtains.
The only hand she felt she could spare was the one squeezing his balls; and she used it to unbutton his shirt, which she virtually tore from his back and arms. And her protestations were not those of a holy place against the black angels of sin, but were the cursings of one being thwarted and deterred. "Oooohhhh, you fuckin' shirt," Reverend Jessica griped, her hand playing up and down the massive barrel of his organ as if she were afraid he would lose his robustness and she wouldn't get the whole hymn-nothing more than a sour note of cum on her fingers.
Still holding onto his pecker, she turned him around to face her. She gave him great mouthy, wet sloppy kisses all over his face and bent his sex-stem toward the floor. She waddled in place at him, her feet spread wide, knees fanned out and she pried his prick upward into her tremendous fat pussy lips and she seemed to engulf him all of a sudden. The great fleshy walls of her in-sides seemed to sort of collapse around his penis as if adjusting around it like the closing petals of a flesh-eating blossom. Her inner muscles closed down tight, tighter, tighter as if they would pinch off his meat and chomp on it until it was devoured by her great sexual maw.
Fritz couldn't help it. He began crying softly in an ecstasy of having his prick mauled so pleasurably. The outer lips of her pussy seemed to eat at him like fantastic toothless gums, trying to lap up his balls. Her juices were soaking his sparse pubic wool and he felt the hot trickle of her on his inner thighs.
There was a deep, intense slosh-slosh sound down between their sweaty bellies as she fucked him while they stood. She enfolded him with her long arms and squashed her huge, hot, firm boobies against his bony chest. One of them rolled upward and he tongued and licked and sucked a hard, dark nipple into his mouth. She retaliated with a mighty grinding of her fuck-muscles around his sex-prong.
He came in a gush that provoked such a heavenly pleasure he cried out shrilly and nearly fainted. "Oooooohhh, you go off like a hot bunny rabbit," she scolded him lovingly, backing him to the bed. Slowly, she toppled him backwards, rolled on with him without breaking their coital connection. She gently heaved him onto her bounteous body, wrapped her legs up over his ass, entwining her ankles.
"Don't go soft," she pleaded, sticking her tongue to the tonsils in his mouth. "Fuck me, Fritz-boy. Pound your masterful prick up my old fuck-cathedral and ring the bells in my twat-steeple."
It was a little difficult for him to begin hunching his cock into her voracious cunt with her strong legs on his back, forcing his prick into her pussy so that his balls soaked up her sexual secretions and his leaking jizz in the wide crack of her bountiful ass.
She cursed like a swindled sailor with enthrallment when he jabbed it into her with all his might and hosed her thoroughly with a fresh load of cum. She praised him and reached up to pat his ass with both hands. "Let me milk out all your glorious cum with my cunny muscles," she whined, "then scoot up on me and let me fuck you off between my big boobies."
Somewhat mystified, but willing, he struggled up over her supine body and sat with his balls rubbing against the under slopes of her breast mounds. Instantly, she took his prick and stretched it out in the valley between her hot titties and folded her breasts in against it. She passed a hand across her face and he saw the obsceneness of her toothless mouth. But he began bucking and hunching his sex-slimed dick between her tits and she tongued the head into her mouth and began gumming it, sucking his cock while he fucked her tits faster and faster. She slurped lewdly on his burgeoning prick-point and swallowed with gusto when he shot his pearly wad into her mouth. She sucked so hard on his prick he could feel the pressure way back beyond his rectum, he thought.
When she finally drained the product of her blow-job, she licked her tongue up and down the underside of his dong. "Let's have a shot of gin and recuperate a little bit. Then I want you to cornhole me and shoot your jizz up my asshole."
"That was my initiation to sex," Fritz told Nola, letting his prick soak in her convulsing snatch.
"Did you get to Sister Roberta?" she asked, his story provoking sweet passion-yearnings boiling in her pussy and her hot, itching butt hole.
"I staggered out that night-I guess I wondered why she didn't come to the trailer. I found her going down on the three old guys in the station wagon-where they slept. She was stripped bare-assed and never missed a lick when she invited me to mount her behind like an animal and fuck her. I got with it and gave her all I had up the sweet, innocent little twat and banged off three or four loads in her rectum while she alternated sucking the three old men's pricks. I sat there and helped drink a gallon of wine while she went down on two pricks at once and gave me my first blow-job-not counting the tittie-fucking and cock-sucking by Reverend Jessica."
Nola was hotter than ever. "Want me to suck off your prick now?"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next morning, Terry was sheepishly subdued and Kenny was silent. There was nothing in Terry's gaze to indicate she was aware that Nola and Fritz had cavorted like a pair of crazy animals in heat.
While coffee was heated from containers in the van, the four of them stood in awe at the mouth of the cave and stared at their imprisoning forest fire. It burned like moving, tattered lace in the trees and heavy underbrush in the narrow, steep canyon.
"How long will we be trapped like this?" Nola fretted, gaining a sense of comfort from Fritz hand on her shoulder.
"I don't know," Fritz said flatly. He tilted his head, listening. "I think I hear an old B17 coming in with a load of borate-but I don't think the pilot can dump his load within a mile of this place. And when it does burn out, I don't know how long we'll be pinned in here."
"We'll all die," Terry whined. And she wasn't consoled by Kenny's hands on her bottom and her breasts, just tolerant of his caresses.
Fritz ignored her. "The thing that concerns me is that there may be another way out-and it could create some unpleasantness for us.
"Did any of you notice that the cave seems to be breathing smoke in from the narrow canyon. I suspect there is an opening somewhere that comes out near the top of the mountains. It is functioning like a chimney."
His hand drifted down Nola's back and she turned slightly and moved closer to him-so that Terry and Kenny wouldn't notice that he was rubbing and fondling the curvy flare of her buttocks.
"Kenny and I could explore and see if there is a passage out to the top of the mountains-above the fire or in an area that has already burned over and has cooled," Fritz said, almost as if thinking aloud.
"I think we should all stay right here," Terry said petulantly.
"Maybe," Fritz nodded. "But it could be that the wind could shift or something and the cave would fill with smoke and we'd have a helluva time."
Nola turned and peered back into the cave. Yes, she could see wisps of oily smoke seemingly sucked into the cave like old fluffs of spider web.
There was a sudden flash burning in brush and timber and a great wall of smoke was vacuumed into the cave. The four were gagging and coughing, eyes burning. Then the smoke was belched back out of the cavern and rolled about lazily before it was sucked back in again.
Terry sulked as Fritz and Kenny prepared to search out the cave. Nola helped them pack sandwiches, candy bars, a thermos of coffee and put fresh batteries in their flashlights. Squatting in the big side door of the van, she kissed Fritz and "mmmmm'd" as he laid a hand in her crotch and squeezed down on the firm, rounded puffiness of her pussy.
"Did I tell you-if and when we all get out of here-I'm gonna leave firefighting to other people, buy that motor home I looked at in Ogden and tour the country-Canada and Mexico, too."
"You didn't mention it," Nola mumbled as they French-kissed and she bit down on his swizzling tongue.
"Would you care to tag along?"
Timidly, she followed them until the gloom of the cave was inky, slashed only by the erratic beams of their flashlights. Then she returned to the van and peered ruefully at Terry who seemed thoughtful and sulky. After a time, Terry seemed to shake off her morbid silence and she smiled, lips curling slowly. "When they get back-and even if they do find a way out-do you want to swap? I mean, I think it would be a fresh adventure to get a dicking from an older man. And I know you will get your jollies-kicks out of Kenny. He really wrestles it in, the way he squirms between a girl's legs."
Nola sensed she was blushing hotly. Then Terry did know that Fritz had laid her that night. And she probably had heard everything she said -even the part about her offering to suck his cock. She wondered whether the bouncy redhead actually had slipped off to watch her go down on the wiry fire boss' meaty faggot.
"Why don't you hush, Terry," Nola fretted.
Then a whispering sound outside the cave forestalled immediate pursuit of the topic and they wandered to the cave opening. A light rain was falling and grew heavier as they stood and watched.
"Thank God," Terry breathed.
"I don't think providence has anything to do with it," Nola sniffed contemptuously. "All I can say it is that time of year and it's about time we got some rain."
She returned to the front of the van and added wood to the dwindling fire, feeling peevish and restless. She just hoped it would rain enough to reduce the fire enough so they could get out. She wished, too, that Fritz had waited another half hour before leading the boy with him to look for another exit. He would have a good idea of how much good the rain would do.
For a moment, she wanted to rebuff Terry for squatting beside her and putting an arm around her waist. But a quick look at the anxious face caused her to bite down on her tongue.
"How long do you think they will be gone?" Terry asked solemnly.
Nola shook her head, braced herself as Terry leaned against her. And she could feel Terry's body heat that seemed to flow from her breasts. "I'm really a slut, aren't I, Nola?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I just can't help it. I like it -being with a guy. I feel so reassured and comfortable-not to mention the heavenly sensations I get with a guy slamming his hot, hard prick into me."
"Oh, Terry," Nola chided softly.
"I just want to be loved; need to be loved," Terry sighed. "And I like making it with a girl, too. Corbie is really good."
The mention of Corbie, sent Nola's mind spanning the distance and she wondered how the little brunette was making out-safe and sound-at the school clinic. She wondered if many of those fighting the fire had been hurt and were being cared for there. And she wondered just how Corbie was caring for them.
Nola brushed absently at Terry's hands seeking her jutting tits. But Terry was persistent and Nola dropped her hands to her thighs and let the lithe redhead keep at her, hands persistent inside her clothes against the bare skin where her ribs Veed away.
Terry's breathing was harsh and fast in Nola's ears, but she could hear other sounds, too. Outside, there was a hissing spewing noise and the cave seemed to be sucking in moisture-laden, steamy air.
Unconsciously, she inhaled so Terry could slip her fingers upward, inside the cups of her bra. Nola swallowed with difficulty as Terry teased and pinched her nipples to tingling tips.
"Let me suck your cunny, Nola?" Terry whispered pleadingly.
"No, no, no-no," Nola murmured, not resisting as Terry eased her over backwards onto the ground. "You better stop it, Terry. Fritz and Kenny may come back anytime." But she liked Terry's hands on her warm, smooth cones. And she moaned as the redhead moved one hand to cup her crotch, pussy lips still tender and swollen from the ministerings of Fritz' massive pecker and his mouth when they had 69'ed. Terry's hand between her slightly parted thighs was almost as good through her clothes as if it were right on her bare skin and hair-matted mound.
"They could come back anytime and I don't think we want them to catch us at-you know . . ."
Terry relented slightly and let Nola sit up, but kept her hands on Nola's sex-stimulating parts. "Didn't you bring some other clothes? A skirt and sweater? I have an idea and we can have fun and we will hear them coming back and we will see their flashlights."
"I must be insane," Nola growled softly, pushing away Terry's hands and standing. She cast an uncertain look at the beautiful redhead's smoldering eyes and retreated to the van. She changed quickly-but left off the bra and panties. Before returning to Terry who was squatting on the blankets she had smoothed out, she cast a glance toward the outdoors. She saw no flames, just grey smoke-steam and the hissing seemed to be diminishing. The rain fell in sheets and streaks and the little stream was swelling from runoff.
Depression, a feeling of being lost or abandoned, distressed her as she moved, feet heavy and dragging toward Terry with the reaching hands and glittering eyes. Sex, she frowned, is the only soul food Terry knows.
Nola stood, expression implacable, staring down at Terry. She held her back stiff, head erect, chin up, breasts jutting into the sweater. She trembled slightly as she let Terry run her hands up her legs, under the skirt.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh, no panties, Darling," Terry purred, tone gloating with satisfaction. "Spread your feet, darling Nola. Please?"
Peering from lowered eyelids, Nola scrutinized the eager face, smiling ruby lips. And skidded her feet apart. Do what you want; take what you want-whatever will make you happy, she thought.
She was surprised, however, that her skin wasn't cold and her flesh unyielding. But there seemed to be a hot glowing under Terry's exploratory touch. And the tentative touch of Terry's fingers against the plush curve of the exterior labia of her pussy sent enthralling flickers of flame through her loins.
Where does she want me? she wondered, sparks flashing upward from the fingers parting the thick outer lips into her sloping, yet uptilted titties. On my back, dress up around my waist so my ass and tummy and cunny are there open and ready for her?
A finger dipped sharply into her fluid-coated vagina and the delicious sensation brought her up on tiptoe. Then she lowered her bottom to savor the sweet invasion of her twat.
"You darling," Terry cooed, "no panties and such a hot, smoky, juicy cave between your sexy legs. Did you leave off your bra? Oooooohhhhhh, I wish we were sure we had time so we could both strip naked-ass and suck each other. I just wish I could love your boobies with my mouth and kiss your sweet lips and eat out your pussy and stick my tongue in your little brown, tight asshole at the same time. Ooooohhhh, yummy, what a wonderfully sexy idea. I could just devour your cunt."
Nola continued staring down at her, acknowledging that she was as good as Fritz in finger-fucking a gal. She knew just where all the supersensitive areas were in a gal's vulva and inside her cunt.
"Come on," Terry urged softly, tugging with the finger in Nola's pussy as she lay back on the spread blankets.
Nola followed her, eyes quizzical.
Slowly, Terry lay back, hiked her own skirt and spread her legs. "We could rub our pussies together and pretend we both have peckers and have clitoral cums-but I think I would rather have you sit your fabulous bottom on my face and let me tongue your cunny and slick gash and fun-button. Turn around and sit on my face."
Nola shrugged, turned, placing her feet on each side of Terry, against her flanks, and lowered her exposed rear end. She held the hem of her skirt up around her waist and let Terry guide her curvy butt downward.
She gasped with delicious delight as Terry blew her hot breath all through her crack, against her parted pussy petals. "Aaaaagggghhhhhh," Nola growled as Terry suddenly latched her mouth onto her vaginal entry and blew her snatch full of her breath.
"Wheeeeeewwwwww," she sighed, sinking her feverish gash onto Terry's face, quivering from the sensation of having her sex-cavity filled without benefit of a dildo or fingers or a man's hard-on.
She leaned forward, hands on Terry's upraised, inner thighs and stared at the red bush that grew profusely across her mound and out of the Vee of her legs. The young woman's thick-lipped fuck slot gaped wide and she could see the deep, rich pinkness of the inner rose of the vulva. The entry to her pussy-where the young kid had plowed and pumped his prick the night before trembled like a flesh-eating flower.
Nola felt stronger and stronger spasms of pleasure building to a crashing explosion inside her seething cunt as Terry dabbed her scooping tongue up inside her. Nola crushed her bottom down harder, feeling Terry's impish nose in the crack of her ass, poking against her asshole. Wish you had a nose like Pinocchio, she thought dreamily, so you could cornhole me with it.
"Aaaaaiiiiiiiieeee," Nola squealed softly, biting her lips as Terry's avid tongue drew her out and she orgasmed, feeling as if she were shooting sex-syrup, but knew it was only a fantastic sensation. That would be something-being cornholed with a nose.
Perhaps it was the way Terry's thighs twitched and floated in and out. But Nola took the hint and dipped fingers of both hands into Terry's crotch, spread the lips wide and crammed fingers of both hands into her cunt and began finger-fucking her furiously.
Just as she was coming down off an erotic plateau, she heard the frantic yell. She swiveled her head and saw the swinging, swaying beam of light coming toward them. Quickly, she stood, lifting her hairy snatch from Terry's sucking, lapping mouth. She dropped her skirt and smoothed it, bent and flipped Terry's down over the redhead's naked cunny and bare legs.
"Kenny," she said tersely, voice filled with alarm. "I think something is wrong." She was conscious of Terry's rising and standing beside her.
"Kenny!" Nola screamed, heading toward the bowels of the cave to meet him.
Panting, the youth stopped before them, shoulders slumping. "Fritz found the chimney-he called it that-but we can't get out. He fell and hurt himself bad."
"Badly," the redhead, the English teacher corrected.
"Hurt himself," the youth repeated doggedly, ignoring her grammar lesson.
"Where is he?" Nola demanded.
"Not too far," Kenny said, turning and leading the way.
Kneeling beside the injured man who was groaning dully, she ran the light over his body, saw the twist of his right leg. She felt gingerly. "Bone broken in the lower leg," she said-wishing Corbie was there with her medical training. There was a huge lump, all scraped and bloody on the left side of his head. "Probably a concussion-maybe skull fracture," she groaned.
Nola sent Terry scurrying back to the crude camp for a couple of blankets. As she knelt beside Fritz, his battered head in her lap, Kenny said, "I think we can use a couple of shovels from the truck."
"He isn't dead. We aren't going to bury him," Nola snapped crisply. But he had already handed her his flashlight and was gone. "Oh, Fritz," she half-cried.
"Light me a cigarette," he grunted. "Pack in my left shirt pocket."
She lit one for him and was helping him drink coffee from the Thermos cup when Kenny and Terry returned. "What are we going to do?"
Terry fretted, voice pitched higher than normal.
"We ain't gonna panic," Kenny said abruptly. And Nola was surprised and pleased with the firm, take-command tone of his voice.
She watched him place the shovels beside Fritz. "Handles too short to make a stretcher." Nola kept silent, almost reading possibilities from his Scout training being considered. She worked a blanket over Fritz and watched the youth take the other blanket and roll the shovel handles into them. He removed Fritz' boots and took out the leather laces. With them, he lashed the spade parts together and hefted the ends of the handles.
"What is that?" Terry demanded.
"My version of an Indian travois," Kenny said, a little proudly. "Help me get him onto the blanket."
Kenny tore a strip from the other blanket and gently tied Fritz' injured leg along one of the handles. "You two keep his head from bouncing," he said, turning, stepping between the handles and picking them up. "I make some horse," he said. And they started back toward the van.
"A real stud," Terry laughed.
After the women had made a blanket-pallet in the van and had Fritz inside, Kenny said, "I'm going to take a look outside."
When he returned in about twenty minutes, he said, "I walked all the way down to where we turned up here. I think we can risk driving out. No real fires-just some sputtering and fizzling. Lots of water and mud, mud, mud. Pack up and let's scram."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After the doctor set Fritz' leg and determined he had a severe concussion, but no skull facture, Nola let Corbie steer her upstairs for a stiff drink-brandy and coffee. "It's about supper-time," Corbie said. "Want me to fix some?"
Nola shook her head. "Where did Terry go?"
"Ha," Corbie snorted, "she took Kenny to her place."
"I heard the school superintendent closed down classes for a month," Nola murmured. "Is he still here? I want to talk to him."
"I guess he's here; his car is in the carport," Corbie said. "Why don't you take a hot bath and relax? You'll feel much, much better. I'll run it for you."
The thought of soaking in a hot tub impressed Nola with how weary she was. "Have you seen or heard from Bob-anything about him?"
"Bobette? You mean," Corbie seemed to smirk on returning from the bathroom. "He-she-it is in the clinic."
"I-don't-understand," Nola said slowly.
"Surgery was performed and he asked to stay here to recuperate-convalesce."
"Makes me feel like a failure as a female," Nola laughed shakily, letting Corbie help her off with her clothes. "How long will he be here?"
"The surgeon said a few months to heal completely. He'll be ambulatory in a short time," Corbie said, holding Nola's arm and helping her into the tub of steaming water. "Golly, what a tangled bush-want me to help you shampoo it and can I comb it out for you later?"
"Go play with your dildo," Nola smiled, blushing, her spirits brightening slightly. She wasn't sure she wanted to face Bob-or "Bobette"- Chapman. But she sensed a perverse fascination would eventually draw her to see him. And she thought about Fritz Fleming. He was as masculine as anyone could be. All man-and a foot long. She scowled with nervous anxiety. She wondered just how serious he was about her going with him on this rambling trip he had mentioned. Maybe he wasn't serious about it at all.
Then Corbie brought her a fresh cup of coffee and brandy and Nola sat up in the tub, her ripe boobies bobbing in the water. "Fantastic corks," Corbie grinned.
"Hush that," Nola snapped-but smiled anyway. "All the students went home?"
"Most of them," Corbie nodded, sitting on the lid of the stool. "Four or five-five-of the boys are here with minor injuries suffered in the fire. And I am taking care of three of the men. Blistered feet, mostly. Terry would be happy to know there's not a burned sausage or singed oyster in the lot."
Nola sloshed to a position on her knees, then stood, letting Corbie drape a large towel over her, begin rubbing her down as the water gurgled away. "What an ass; what a pussy."
As Corbie ran the towel through the tight crack of her butt and swabbed an end of it against the profuse forest on her love-hill, Nola breathed, "Does this let your jollies jump?"
"Rrrrowwffff," Corbie laughed. "You said you wanted to talk to the school super-I called him and he'll be over. He said he was at loose ends. His wife went to visit her ailing mother."
Nola held her arms out from the shoulders. "Her mother?" She gritted her teeth involuntarily as Corbie toweled her jutting boobies, bringing the nipples to tumescent points. "I just thought her mother probably was . . . How old is she anyway? Her husband must be-oh, in his sixties."
"The Super is fifty-five," Corbie breathed, palming the coarse towel lovingly over the smooth crowns of Nola's full titties. "You like this, don't you?"
Nola glared at her with mock disgust, then "Uuuuummmmm'ed," as Corbie puckered her lips and gave each nipple a little, noisy suck-kiss. "Say, what was that 'Rrrrrowwffff' about a second ago?" Nola asked as she slid her arms into the shortie dressing gown Corbie held.
"I feel like a dog that wants to chase your pussy-kitty," Corbie retorted, slapping Nola's sensitive behind and rubbing a hand across the faces of Nola's unfettered titties.
"Would you know what to do with it, if you caught it," she teased, knowing that Corbie did and didn't make a question of it.
"Rrrooowfff-Bow-wow," Corbie yipped, following Nola into the living room where both stood at a large window, staring at the sky. The rain had stopped, but there was an angry mass of fresh clouds forming over or beyond the Great Salt Lake.
Briefly, Nola told her about their escapade during the fire. "And I think you have the right idea. I think I'll get numbly drunk and pickle the memory."
"Don't you dare do that to your pussy-cat," Corbie gnashed her teeth, growling, bringing fresh drinks. "You just relax-I'm off duty-we have a couple of nurses from town helping out -and I'm going to shower and change out of my little monkey suit."
Darkness seemed to descend from the sky like a blanket, wrapping Corbie's apartment into a warm haven. Nola turned her head and smiled at Corbie sitting beside her. "It won't take much to get me snockered," she murmured.
"Awful tired?" Corbie asked.
"Not so very," Nola replied after a moment of thought. "I guess the bath helped-and so does the brandy. I should slip down and see-him."
"Bob," Corbie said. "Why not wait until morning? We could go see Fleming. But I think the doctor gave him a strong sedative."
"He was asleep when I looked in just before we came up," Nola said, stretching her legs out straight, unmindful the hem flaps of the gown fell to either side of her thighs, that a button had slipped and the curly hair across her crotch Vee was exposed.
"I want to make love to you," Corbie whispered, bending to kiss Nola's cheek. "Uuuummm, you smell so fragrant."
"Pee," Nola said, blushing, yet not moving as Corbie laid a hand on her bare thigh.
"Not either," Corbie said poutishly. "You smell like bubble bath and scented soap and the sweet perfume I put in my bath towels."
"And brandy," Nola added with a light laugh, sipping her drink.
"And the wonderful, musky aroma of female," Corbie purred, dipping her fingers into Nola's thighs. Obligingly, Nola moved her feet apart so the little blackhaired temptress could press her fingers against the thick folds of flesh covering her pussy.
"Terry said she sucked you in that cave," Corbie breathed, loosening the remainder of the robe's buttons, laying it aside so Nola could lie back, naked before her. "She said she had a marvelous time, getting her pussy hunched by Kenny. Have you had a guy's cock up you recently?"
"None of your business," Nola said dreamily, aware of the muscles twitching in her inner thighs as Corbie delicately parted the plump outer petals of her sex-blossom so the rich pink-ness was exposed. "Oooooohhhh, Jesus," Nola sighed as Corbie rubbed the tip of a finger across her little fun-button and the clit grew from the pink sheath of flesh and Corbie teased the dainty little thorn until sharp, delicious convulsions began thundering deep in Nola's innards. Her ass bucked on the sofa as Corbie fingered her sex-gash through a tempestuous orgasm.
"You showered?" Nola opened her eyes wide to stare at Corbie's solemn face as the little pixie continued finger-fucking her, squishing a finger in and out of her hot, tight, little hole.
Corbie laughed, leaning to suck in Nola's right nipple, tongued it around from cheek to cheek, rasping her tongue over the tumescent point. "You kind of dozed off and I did."
Mind fuzzed by passion and brandy, Nola peered at Corbie with dreamy eyes. Her gaze focused on Corbie's exposed titties bobbing inside her unbuttoned robe. "Hadn't we better button up and straighten up, if the school superintendent is coming?"
"Crap!" Corbie yipped. "Why?" she smirked. "He would like us this way." When Nola scowled at her, she laughed merrily. "You don't know much about the man who runs this school, do you? He's a horny old guy."
"You? He's had you?" Nola gasped, pushing Corbie's hand out of her crotch and buttoning the robe.
"Hah!"
Nola was sitting sedately on the sofa, legs crossed, the hem of the robe tugged over her knees when the grey-haired head of the school arrived. She ignored his keen, appraising eyes as Corbie made him a drink. "You had quite a time, didn't you?" he said, sitting at the other end of the sofa. "Corbie said you wanted to talk to me."
"Yes," Nola replied. "I don't know just how or what to say. And it isn't that I'm not happy with my work here."
"Bob Chapman, perhaps," the superintendent said casually. "I can understand how upsetting that may be. I just can't imagine a man doing something like that. I'd rather be dead than have my cock and balls cut off."
For a moment, Nola was shocked by his crude words. "And he asked for it," he continued softly. "Maybe he knows what he's doing. He's had the delights of plugging women and if that was so much fun, maybe he thinks he'd like to try it from the other side of the sexual fence and see how much fun the girls have."
Covertly, Nola watched him scratch at the husky tenting in his pants. She glanced at Corbie sitting in a chair across the room and the little brunette was smiling with keen amusement; Nola could see the laughter gleaming in her eyes.
"And the girls do have their share of fun," the superintendent pursued. "And their fun lasts and lasts and lasts while a man is good only for a couple of sprints in an evening. However, as a man who has made a study of such endeavors, I have found it possible to carry the torch a long time and for a great distance in this sexual marathon business."
"The hundred-yard jump-and make it last all night," Corbie chuckled wryly.
"Corbie, you darling," he laughed and motioned for her to get him another drink. "And Miss Jones-Nola-too."
Nola felt a mental cowering from him as he turned to peer at her. "What you want to tell me is that you want to cancel your contract so you can go away. Correct? I understand, Nola. But that would create a staff hardship, don't you understand?"
She swallowed with difficulty. "I don't think it would be extreme," she suggested, looking away quickly from the intense probing gleam in his eyes.
"Aaaaaahhhh, well," he sighed. "Always nasty and costly business, one's getting out of a contract."
"Some people demand an arm and a leg," Corbie chimed.
"Oh, now, Corbie. An arm and a leg?" the school head chided. "We would never maim such a lovely creature as Miss Jones. However, I might demand my pound of flesh."
"You gonna take a pound of Nola's flesh-or give her a pound of yours?" Corbie challenged gaily.
Then the truth of what she would have to do, to be released from her contract, became agonizingly clear like a bright light flashing in Nola's brain. Before signing, she had had her contract scrutinized by an attorney in Ogden. At the time, she was concerned that the private school was legally bound to all terms-but she was equally bound. "Well, if you should die, the contract would be void," she remembered the attorney smiling at her.
She could remain at the school. With a shudder, she contemplated possible embarrassments. No doubt her relationship with Bob Chapman would become public knowledge. And, no way, would his surgery of sexual reversal be kept secret. There would be the laughter, humiliation. And there was no doubt the carnal demands placed on her by Terry and especially Corbie would be even more degrading.
Carefully, she glanced at the relaxed, studious face of the aging school superintendent. She would never have guessed he was a lecherous old man. Unbidden, her eyes started at his shoes- and she could see the bare feet of an old man, the calves with varicose veins, skinny thighs. Nola blinked rapidly and peered at his shirted torso -and saw the flat chest, ribs clearly defined. Chest hair, if any, as much grey as black-or whatever his hair had been when he was in his prime. She couldn't stop her eyes from drifting to his belt, over the slight paunch to-to . . . The tenting of his pleated trousers wasn't that of an old man, not shriveled and inert. Definitely, he was healthy enough there.
Yet, she visualized flabby skin hanging loosely on his penis and the scrotum was scored with deep wrinkles, the testes shrunken.
She swallowed the rest of her drink, fighting off pangs of disgust as she thought of this old man-naked-rutting between her legs, his lewd, flabby organ dobbing at her young furrow, his grunting and as he struggled to penetrate her body.
Nola felt her sexual channel drying and shriveling with her increasing disgust. She saw his nostrils narrow, expand, quiver; and she knew he must smell the tell-tale odors of female passion that Corbie had aroused with her fingers in her vulva and vagina. His lips seemed to curl with lasciviousness and he licked a tongue across them with anticipation.
"Corbie," he said, "did you notice how the rose patterns on Nola's robe seemed to be alive as her gorgeous peaches expanded against them as she breathes?"
Nola wished she could shrink away and disappear from the room. He scratched a fingernail along the impression of his penis and pressed the material of his trousers around it, accented its limp thickness and length. "I guess I could tear up your contract, Nola," he said softly, leaning toward her and laying a cold palm on her leg, just above the knee. He squirreled his fingers and the flaps of the robe parted and slid away from her creamy thigh.
"I don't know," Nola said doubtfully. But she did know. But what if Fritz should ever know? Nola glanced across the room at Corbie, expecting the young RN to be grinning lecherously, but Corbie's face was serious, eyes solemn. No support, but no eagerness to watch her debauchment, either. "I want out-I've got to get out," Nola said tersely, fighting the temptation to cry. "You'll cancel the contract?"
"Yes. Corbie is my witness," he said, tone serious.
Nola was aware only of a sensation of desperation, of being strangled-suffocating. And, surely, Corbie would remain in the room and watch her get fucked by this old man.
"I-guess-I-will," Nola muttered, holding out her cup and indicating she wished to delay her degradation-and maybe get drunk enough so her dread wouldn't be so keen and the memory would be forever dulled and numbed in the future.
"Let's all have another drink," the superintendent said agreeably. And he strolled along after Corbie to the kitchen.
Why don't you settle for her, Nola thought bitterly, eyes on the tall man's left hand as he palmed it over the saucy roundness of Corbie's seductive behind.
"That's nice," Corbie said, "but remember, you're going to screw Nola, not me. Maybe later you'll let me have a little of your fabulous tail- turn your tiger loose in my tank?"
Straight little Nola, Nola mused, wondering whether it would all go easier if she were loose and bold as Corbie. But the idea nagged her that in a little while she would be straining his milk in her little cream jar. The bull would be riding her and his stud-piece would be playing in her snug little sex-corral and the calves of procreation would be romping in the pasture of the profuse grass that grew around her snug little fun-barn.
"Ugh," she breathed, taking the cup from his hand, not watching him as he sat beside her and removed his shoes and socks.
He had left his coat in the kitchen and he was unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it over the arm of the sofa. She stole a glance at him. And his chest was flat and bony from age. And he seemed so obscene, sitting beside her in just pants and shorts.
"Nola explored a cave," Corbie giggled, "now she's about to have her own tunnel examined and probed."
Nola felt a surge of helpless fury. "Shut up and get out of here," she snapped.
"My house, my house," Corbie chuckled, then grew somber.
Shaking inwardly, Nola tolerated his fingers at the buttons of the robe, cringing with indignation as he parted it to reveal her flawless beauty. "My, what gorgeous peaches," he almost smacked his thin lips as his eyes, glowing like embers, gloated from the sloping mounds with the uptilted dark points.
Nola squeezed her thighs together, but this is only added to his carnal appetite as the gesture forced the upper portions of the thick labia upward in her sex-Vee and made the love-mound even more prominent. "Pure spun gold," the school superintendent marveled, his hot gaze on the prolific pubic mesh.
"Are you prepared, my dear?" he asked unctuously, his long fingers opening and closing like the talons of a carnivorous bird of prey.
"I suppose so," she answered dully, her emotions mixed with a dread to begin and anxiety to have the deed done. Idly, reality seemingly detached from her mind, she wondered how he wanted to take her. On my back ? Like a degraded and humiliated animal down on all fours with my rear presented to him for his bestial enjoyment.
"I want you to help me get ready," he said, eyes sultry and obscene on her nudity.
"What-do-you-want-me-to-do ?"
"Why not help me finish disrobing," he laughed with lecherous humor.
Ooooohhhhh, damn you, Nola quailed, turning to face him slightly. Quickly, her eyes appraised the bulge in his pants and thought that if that was all the peter he had, she should be able to take him okay and maybe he would cum fast- and it would be all over with in a few pumps of his prick and a fast squirt of his jizz.
Timidly, hands shaking, she undid his belt, the hook at the top of the fly. She resented his hand on her shoulders, at the collar of the gown, pulling it down off of her to expose more and more of her bare skin to his rapacious eyes.
With cold resignation, she skidded the fly and unsnapped the waistband of his boxer shorts. Coarse, black hair grew profusely across his groin and lower belly-below the tell-tale paunch of age.
"You're doing very well, darling Nola," he praised her. Her hands dangled uselessly in midair as he leaned forward and half-stood, pushing his pants and shorts around his ankles. He leaned back and toed them off over his feet.
Nola stared, as if in a trance at the loll of his genitals. Fright and a sickness surged through her as she realized that his penis-ever so long -was not even half hard. And his balls were not shrunken as she had imagined they would be. They were big and fat, the skin of the scrotum stretched tight around them. His man-eggs were as massive as a boar hog's.
There was something almost satanic and evil about his twitching sex-twang. Perhaps it was the fact he had been circumcised-the glans was placid. The skin that sheathed his spear was flabby-but she knew it would fill out when he reached full erection.
"Take it in your hands and love it, Dear," he said flatly.
She touched it tentatively with her fingertips and her hand recoiled from the limp hunk of meat. "Now, my dear," he chided her, tone suddenly cold and demanding. "Let's love it nice and with fervency."
Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to coil her fingers around the rather narrow girth and lift it. The head dangled as if it were broken or out of joint. She couldn't compel herself to grip and massage his dong, jack him off to bring him out, get him hard.
"Really, Nola, you aren't doing your part in our little deal," he growled harshly.
She tried, really tried. She brought her other hand over to cradle his balls and lift them, feeling wretched as she felt the heat and firmness of his prodigious gonads.
"This just won't do," he snapped, reaching to grasp one of her breasts, gripping it until sharp pains darted all through her, into her cold heart. "Get out of your gown, down on the floor on your knees between my legs."
She didn't think she hesitated more than a second, but he took her upper right arm and flung her down between his bony knees, wrestled her around to face him. "Know what you must do? Of course you do," he gloated, letting her recover her balance and her reeling senses. She steadied herself with her hands on his lean thighs, staring at obsceneness. He looped a big hand behind her neck and tugged her forward while he lifted his limber dick. "Pleeeeeeasssseee?" she begged, eyes frantic on his glans-slot.
"Open your mouth, take a big mouthful and start swallowing," he ordered.
She would have protested, but he plopped the head of his cock between her lips, onto her tongue. He pulled her head forward, kind of shoving his meat into her mouth in wads. Involuntarily, she swallowed and the prick-pear slid back along her tongue and almost gagged her as it touched the back of her throat.
She swallowed again and the plum on the end of his prick slid and vanished into her gullet. It seemed to haul the rest of his sex-hose and the mass of meat was reduced in her mouth. Her tongue moved and her gullet absorbed more and more of his unsavory morsel. Then she was aware of her chin resting at the lower base of his monster, his balls touching it. And her forehead was firm against his groin-bone. And he had all of his cock socked into her mouth. And she had done most of it herself, swallowing and working her tongue.
"Fabulous, my Darling," he crooned, keeping a hand at the nape of her neck while the other explored from one firm tit to the other, pinching and teasing her nipples until they tingled and expanded.
Nola regained some control and stopped swallowing, forced her tongue to lie still against the underside of his sex-organ. I won't do any more, she thought. Then a sickening horror of mortification assailed her as his meat began to swell and bloat, growing hard-lengthening down her throat and thickening to glut her mouth.
"Come on, Nola, suck my cock," he urged. "Then I'll give you a fabulous thrill. I can fuck for hours-in your cunt and up your asshole."
Rapidly, his cock grew to such proportions she was choking and there was no room for her tongue to move, for her to suck. She didn't want him to shoot off in her mouth. Her degradation was intense. Still his cock grew to even more immense size. She shivered as he removed his hand from her neck and began rubbing her bare shoulders and lithe back, his other hand plying wickedly over her boobie-balloons. And she didn't try to retreat from him, kept her forehead against his belly as his huge cock expanded in her mouth.
Saliva was flowing in her mouth and she swallowed it around the massive barrel of prick in her face. He humped his hips in appreciation. "Ooooohhhh, I knew you could suck cock if you would just do it," he chortled.
Nola didn't realize she was doing it, but one of her hands found his sac of goodies, kneaded them, the other curled at the base of his monstrous hardon, thumb and index finger making little milking motions. He's right, she mused numbly, I'm sucking his cock; I'm right here on my knees between his legs, going down on him and giving him a blow-job.
Experimentally, she eased her head back, drawing her face away, letting his prick escape from her mouth. With just the massive head in her teeth, she contemplated spitting it out or biting it off.
Then she astounded herself, she moved her head forward, taking his mammoth cock back down her throat. And her tongue was swishing around his fat sex-spigot and savoring the salty, musky flavor of his member. And she was mouth-fucking him in long, steady strokes, licking at the glans on the back-stroke and rasping her rough tongue tantalizingly on the underside of his tube on the forward push. Mouth-fucking, mouth-fucking, sucking.
Her eyes sought his as she continued gorging herself on his ponderous prong, silently asking him a question. And he smiled. "I don't know-I may jizz you in the mouth. I may save it to unload it in your cunt or your bowels. Where would you like it? Do you want me to cum while you are sucking my prick?"
Her eyes were sultry and eloquent. It would be all right if he wanted to shoot his jizz while she fucked him with her mouth. But if he preferred to save it, she would take it up her snatch-even in her butt hole.
She disregarded his chuckle of complete conquest and kept on sucking and nibbling on his long, grotesque cock. It slid down her throat easily-maybe because he had no foreskin to bunch up behind the coronal ridge to impede its passage in her oral fuck-chute.
Nine inches-ten inches of slick dick was gliding in and out of her hot, wet mouth and she bobbed her head, shoulders moving as she devoured his massive meat.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nola was only dumbly aware of his taking his cock away from her suckling mouth. Her tongue continued to work, lips remained O'ed. And she made plaintive, sucking sounds. "Please?" she whimpered, a hand still clinging to his heavy balls. The glistening head of his cock bobbed before her eyes and she tried to recapture it with her hungry mouth.
But he just laughed. "She is mine-my captive." He pushed her over backwards and she felt awkwardly, her feet flying into the air, her sleek, creamy thighs flashing, spread wide. Her hairy crotch was open and defenseless before him. Her eyes were glazed and she reached for his awful weapon with both hands.
"Obsessed with cock and fucking," he gloated, bending down into her saddle, letting his saliva-slicked prick drip honey into her glistening blonde pubic hair. "Ooooohhhhh, give it to me," Nola wailed.
Her hands found his organ and caressed the long pipe. She bent it into her furrow and he plowed the head up and down, goading her almost insane passion. "What a heavenly, hairy snatch," he admired, finally letting her position the head of his prick at the doorway to her cunt.
"Aaaaahhhhggggg," Nola whimpered as just the head of his prick penetrated her. She wallowed her butt back and forth on the floor, trying to facilitate insertion. He applied pressure with his hips and she squealed as he forced an inch or two of his dong into her dry socket. Fright knifed through her brain from the sensation he was tearing her insides.
"Her cunt is awfully dry," he grunted, giving her little short hunches. She moved a hand between their heaving bodies to grasp his barrel and prevent his brutal intrusion. But he swept her hand aside.
"Go slow, slow, slow," Nola pleaded, eyes pinched shut against tears. He had her thighs spread so far apart she thought she detected a creaking of her pelvic bones. She raised her head and could see his prick, like a ludicrous stump, slowly vanishing inside her. The hairy, outer lips of her pussy were stretched around his jock and there was a tingling, burning, itching sting in her sex-gash.
"Let your cock soak," she begged. But he continued hiking his prick up her snatch, each hunch of his hips hauling the cheeks of her ass up off the floor. His flesh seemed to gyrate and grind against hers.
And he was grunting and panting, struggling to bury his extremely hard, blood-gorged cock inside her body. She imagined that her asshole was being forced forward and his prodigious prong was going to drag her anus right inside her vagina.
Her eyes widened as she stared. She felt that her pussy was crammed to the limit with prick and there was still two or three inches for him to shaft into her aching, creaking snatch.
A tremendous ripple of fleshy protest shook her body as the head of his cock scraped her cervix and caromed inward, toward her womb.
Nola felt faint as there was no relenting on his part as he ruthlessly bored and drilled his sex-augur into her tiny hole. It seemed the walls of her cunt had petrified and lost all their resiliency. Was his prick really that huge? she fretted. Her insides were sore and throbbing-and he hadn't even begun to fuck it to her yet.
Dumbly, she recognized Corbie standing there, hovering over her, glancing from her tortured face to her crotch that was being tormented by this old man's monstrous cod he was prodding deeper and deeper into her body.
"Real tight cunt," he gasped. "And hot as an oven. Her twat is pinching and squeezing the old pecker."
He bucked and humped mightily, driving his prick into her, seeming to slash her insides in his avaricious cravings. Well, his groin was very near her Venus mound now and she could no longer see any of his pipe. Her cunt had just about encased all of his cock. She was taking him, containing him and she was bewildered that she could handle so much cock.
Then there was a smooth sliding and gliding of the last inch or so of his prick. And Nola was grateful that the walls of her pussy were secreting oil to ease the passage of prick into pussy.
And with the lubrication came a flush of heat that brought beads of sweat to her face and her tits and in the splayed crack of her ass. It won't hurt now when he fucks me, she sighed to herself.
Will he be able to fuck me for hours? she worried, relieved that he was letting the full length of his tool become well-oiled, cooking inside her before he began rocking and socking the cock to her throbbing cunt.
And will I get it up the ass? Timorous doubts assailed her that she could accommodate his massive prick in her bowels, sure it would extend all the way into her butts. She flung her arms wide to steady her body, amazed that her nipples stood firm and erect from the dark aureoles on her tingling tits.
If he cornholes me and I can't take it, what will I-can I do? she stewed. Will his ripping and roaring prick tear me? The dismal thought had a reverse effect on her body. As she considered, her rectal passage began writhing and coiling and burning; she wanted his jock up her john-hole!
She wanted to slap Corbie who had shuffled out of her robe and stood over her naked. But Corbie dropped to her knees and began loving her titties, tongue tasting her nipple-berries and lapping back and forth across the burning crowns. God, that's nice, she thought hazily, and gave up the idea of slapping the brazen beauty. But in the next instant she wanted to kill Corbie who squatted over her and smothered her viscous snatch-slash right down on her face. Nola gasped for air-and she began licking her tongue through Corbie's sweet, hot gash, dipping the tip inside her twat until Corbie began whimpering and wheezing, cumming all over her face.
But Nola resolved she wouldn't help the old man; she would lie unmoving as a board and just let him saw his cock in and out of her until he jizzed himself to death or died of a heart attack.
However, he reared high over her, his impaling prick socked deep, and lifted her fanny off the carpet. His sex-stake, driven deep into her, pried against her cunny walls and she almost rocketed into an unexpected orgasm.
"Aaaaaaiiiiiiii! Goddamn!" she yelled, feeling her cunny contract around his retreating post. Then he slammed the prick back into her and she climaxed abruptly, violently with his cock swizzling in her seething innards. She gripped her muscles around his pulsating barrel and felt her asshole pinching down with delectable fervor.
He fucked her hard and deep and her bottom bounced with dull little thuds against the carpeted floor. Every nerve, every sense was alive and she could feel keenly each inch of his prick in her, sliding and gliding smoothly, snuggly in long pistoning pumps in and out of her gloriously responding pussy.
And-"Oooooooohhhhh!"-how she could smell the hot aroma blended of prick pushing in and out of pussy. She slurped at Corbie's twat and stuck her tongue as far as she could in her twinging vagina.
The old man's hands gripped her flanks and he reared and roared it to her, pouring his prick into her clutching pussy in long, fast stabs. She thought, surely, she had taken so much cock that her cunny would be numb and insensitive, but it was alive, like a young animal, wanting him to pummel and pound at least a mile of prick-a foot at a time!-into her smoking hole.
"Fuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkk me," Nola screamed, arching her cunny up to take every fraction of an inch of his flying meat. She up-fucked her bottom and rotated her hips to wring every last tremor and thunder of delight from his rampaging prick. Suddenly, she was wrenched into a tempestuous orgasm as he seemed to dig another inch of his wonderful cock into her fuck-cavity.
"I'm getting it all-but give me more of your prick," she screamed, deliriously happy as he uncorked new energy and hunched it to her with reckless endeavor. His fingers dug into the softness of the small of her back and his thumbs sank into her tummy and there was the sensation of her inner flesh feeling them pressing against his pumping, pistoning prick.
"Jiiiiiizzzzzz me!" she squalled, tossing her ass up at him as he punched his prick in.
"Fuck me good and I'll suck you off again!" she howled, glad that Corbie had slipped her cunt from her face so she could breath and concentrate on the erotic heaven that was exploding in her wretching loins.
"Hammer me full of cock! Jizz me in the pussy and fuck me in the ass!" Nola whined and whimpered, consumed with erogenous flames.
"Cum hard, then cornhole me," she pleaded, squeezing her coital muscles around his pummeling prick. "Corbie! Corbie?" Nola yelled, wanting the little brunette to do something that would heighten her pleasure.
"Just fuck," Corbie called back. "I'm busy; I'm sucking his balls and licking his asshole. Do your fuckin' and enjoy it."
Nola began sobbing with sexual torment, passion mounting faster than the old man could pour the prick into her throbbing cunt. Then- accidentally or on purpose-he missed a stroke and the full length of his prick banged to the balls up her asshole.
Nola exploded into a renewed convulsion of erotic pleasure. She could hear Corbie slurping with relish as she sucked on his big, swinging and swaying balls. But what was so wonderful was the deep cotial penetration of her asshole, then her pussy as he alternated from hole to hole with his hot stick of fuck-magic.
She couldn't tell which she enjoyed the most, his prick cornholed up her rectum or shafted deep into her snatch. She wondered if and how he could squirt his jizz in first one hole, then the other. Maybe, she thought prayerfully, he has enough cum to gush me in the cunt and the butt.
When his load hit her deep in the twat, she felt a delirium of sexual fantasy engulf her like a blanket of enchantment. There it is, she thought gratefully, dreaming, reveling in the glory of having her pussy pumped full of his searing, scalding thick jizz.
"Not all of it!" she screamed. "Shove your cock back in my asshole and jizz my bowels."
She awoke late the next morning in Corbie's bed, pussy and asshole aching and burning. It was with muted satisfaction she found that the superintendent had kept his word and the contract had been delivered to her.
She showered quickly, dressed and had a cup of coffee laced with brandy. Then she slipped furtively downstairs, to Fritz' room. She had already decided she wouldn't go see Bob-or Barbette. Maybe he could get his new pussy punched by the head of the school.
"Hi," she said, smiling wanly. "How do you feel?"
"Not bad," he grinned, snubbing out a cigarette. "You slept most of the morning. Help me into that wheelchair; I want to show you something."
"You should stay in bed," she remonstrated. But she helped him into the vehicle for invalids.
She pushed him along, always in the direction of his pointing arm. In bright sunlight, they stopped on a broad, concrete apron and Nola stared at a motor home parked at the curb.
"Can you drive that thing?" he demanded.
"Maybe," she murmured, a sense of happiness growing in her.
"I'll coach you," he said brightly, fishing out and lighting a fresh cigarette. "My stuff is already inside. How long will it take you to pack and stow your things?"
"You're in an awful hurry, aren't you?" she teased him.
"Damned right," he said, running a hand up her dress to twiddle his fingers against her pussy. "I plan to have a hot fuck up the road, another one before we reach Evanston, then another . . ."
She interrupted him, "What if I don't want to fuck; what if I'd rather suck you off?"
"Nonsense," he frowned, pinching her pussy lips. "You'll get all the blow-jobbing you want when I get my leg out of a cast and can drive."
