Sherry's large brown eyes widened. The cedar fence loomed up high over her head. It seemed much taller than seven feet. Climbing it was going to be dangerous.
Sweat poured down the thirteen year old's sunburned cheeks. She was hot from pedaling her bicycle from school and a thin layer of sweat covered the flat skin of her belly, wetting the cotton panties clinging to her hairless crotch.
Sherry didn't have a choice. She needed her baseball uniform for little league practice. And the uniform was hanging on a clothes line in the backyard. Behind the cedar fence.
Her thin nose flared at the hot afternoon wind. If her mommy had washed Sherry's uniform instead of giving it to Mrs. Anson, the next door neighbor, then this wouldn't have happened. But her mommy was too poor to own a washing machine. And there never seemed time to go to the laundromat.
So Mrs. Anson had washed her baseball jersey and pants. And now it was locked behind the wood fence and it was up to Sherry to go get them.
Damn! she thought grabbing the cross railing and pulling her skinny torso up so she could grab the top of the fence. A wind gust swirled catching the girl's skirt, exposing her white panties.
Why wasn't Mrs. Anson home? Sherry had tried the front door and bagned the door knocker until her fingers ached. There were two cars in the driveway. Somebody had to be home.
Maybe she went to the store, Sherry thought. Wherever Mrs. Anson was, Sherry didn't have time to wait for her return. So with the gates locked, she had no choice but to climb over the fence, hastily change into her uniform and go off to practice.
Standing now on the top railing, Sherry looked down at the green carpet of grass below. She felt a chill along her spine. It looked a very long way down.
Sherry tittered then crouching down, she touched the fence top with her hands and, closing her eyes, leaped forward.
"Ohhhh!! ! " she gasped. Her tucked body made a gentle parabola in the air below, landing with a thud on the soft lawn. She fell heavily on her shoulders and rolled forward into a somersault. Her white dress made a ripping sound as she rolled forward, her head spinning like a top. She lay on her back gasping for breath. It was embarrassing. She turned to stare at the fence and then at the ground. She was lucky only the wind was knocked out of her. She looked down at herself and gasped. The white cotton dress her mother had sewn for her was nearly ripped in two! Dirt stains and long green splotches soiled the front. The dress was destroyed!
Sherry's ass was in a sling if her mother found out. Her mother had spent many long hours putting it together. Climbing to her feet, Sherry discovered the dress was not the only garment ripped from the long fall. As she walked, a blast of warm air thrilled her buttocks.
Goosebumps sprung up along the inside of her thighs and slowly spread upwards along her flat tummy and the tender slit parting her cunt lips. Placing her finger between her legs, Sherry felt the tattered material of her underpants. She groaned and was almost afraid to look down. But she did and the damage was worse than she imagined. Whatever had ripped her dress had caught her panties. A hot wind swirled under her dress and through her cotton briefs warming the bare flesh below.
She stood up and looked at the fence. A fragment of cloth from her dress waved in the wind like a miniature flag. "A nail," whispered Sherry. She had been very lucky after all. A little bit lower and that nail could have ripped her open, not just the dress.
Sherry was embarrassed. She was nearly striped of her clothes from the freak accident. Luckily, no one was home at the Anson house because she didn't want Mrs. Anson to see her running around with her clothes nearly ripped off.
Her panties slipped down off her hips and before Sherry could do anything they were drooping around her ankles.
Sherry knew she would have to change into her uniform at the Anson house. There was no time to go home. And besides, she couldn't go out on a public street with her dress ripped and her underwear falling off her rump. Even if she did live next door.
Sherry picked up her underwear in one hand and crept around the back of the house to the clothes line where her baseball uniform was.
And it might have stopped there if the clothes line had not been position directly outside Mrs. Anson's bedroom window.
Because Mrs. Anson, a comely brunette with the long, muscular legs of a dancer and the rounded hips and pinched waist of a model, was not alone.
Gordon Wilson was lying on top of her, his hands massaging her responsive breasts that were braless under her checkered cowgirl shirt.
"Aahhhh," she gasped. Her nipples jutted beautifully through the soft fabric. She squirmed underneath his hips, thrusting soft hillocks of inviting pleasure up towards his mouth. Wilson had to smile.
He knew a good piece of ass. And he spotted Margaret for the lusty adulterous housewife which she was. Wilson had gone to the house to get insurance release forms for Trixie, the woman's 12 year old daughter that played little league baseball.
Gordon unbutton her blouse with his teeth and remembered how he had nearly flipped when his eyes spotted through beautiful tits for the first time. They strained against her blouse, the nipples eager, waiting. He had mumbled a few words and when their eyes met in a hypnotic trance, Gordon said he would be back later.
Well, now he was back. And freeing her blouse so he could lick and suck her rigid nipples he thought to himself that luck was riding with him.
"Hmmmmm," Margaret Anson moaned. She wiggled her hips against his crotch. Even through her slacks, he could feel the warm, passionate heat of her cunt. With mounting excitement, his hands strayed from her tits and worked down to the slope of her buttocks. He couldn't resist touching her firm soft ass cheeks. Her body was a dream-a wet dream come true! In a few seconds his hands would be coming through those soft cheeks and through her dark crease until he was stroking her hot, smelly box.
He stared at Margaret Anson's face now composed and oddly child-like. He congradulated himself. If the rest of her body was as beautiful as her satiny tits then he was in for some good, hard fucking. Quickly his fingers found the snaps of her slacks. She did not resist as he pulled her pants away and then unrolled the sheer panties that clung to her crotch.
"You're beautiful," he admired. He was going to be late again for little league practice. The girls would complain to their parents about the coach always arriving late. But he didn't care. Fucking Margaret Anson's was worth a few complaints. Hell, it was worth losing his job over!
It was embarrassing. At least for Sherry. She reached up for her uniform and a blast of wind blew her dress over her head exposing her soft, lovely rump.
Feeling the warm air run up her thighs and along her small twat and nicely curved buttocks all the way to the two cupcake mounds on her chest was exciting. She was nervous; maybe the tension had something to do with the way she felt. Her skin was sensitive to the slightest stimulation. A puff of air could send goose bumps crawling across her breasts. The gentlest wind hardened her nipples. Standing at the clothes line, legs spread, her tiny rump naked to the sun's warmth, Sherry had the urge to scratch her cunt. She knew it was wrong. Even in her own bathroom she felt guilty playing with her twat. As if her little virgin hole was sacred icon, not meant to be touched even by her!
Yet the surroundings were so strange and her cunt itched so much! She had the same sensation riding her bicycle sometimes. She had wanted to drag her crotch back and forth against the saddle horn. And then one day she did, ramming the narrow neck of the saddle through the warm, wet little lips. How she had shivered!
She pulled the uniform over her shoulders. In the same motion, she squatted down and slid a finger upwards. The twin halves of her sweltering cunt spread apart and in went her finger. It glided up her hole now all nice and wet. She squatted lower so her thighs muscles were tense and the twin spheres of her rump were drawn apart.
"Ohhhhh!" she gasped.
Her finger was a magic wand working away in her hole. It was wrong to fuck herself. The thought of Mrs. Anson suddenly walking out into the backyard and finding her with her finger wiggling inside her hot twat made Sherry shudder.
She would die of embarrassment. And yet she couldn't stop, not now anyway because her channel hugged her finger like a warm glove and she was getting hotter and hotter. Swaying her hips, Sherry began to hunch. Her ripped skirt flipped frantically up at each forward movement. It was awkward at first, but Sherry quickly got the rhythm. The finger seemed to grow longer. It was thick around, or so it seemed as a garden hose. And as it got bigger, her cunt got hotter. Much hotter. She was bouncing her buttocks against her heels and her finger grew long and hard inside her twat like a cucumber suddenly sprouting in the late Spring.
"Ohhhhh!" she moaned. Sherry couldn't take much more of this excitement. No, she certainly couldn't.
"What was that?" said Gordon. He twisted in the bed, his muscles tense, ready. The last thing he needed was to have Mrs. Anson's husband to come storming through the bedroom door.
"Who cares?" Margaret Anson murmured.
She reached around Gordon neck and gently pulled his face down to her breast. His trim athletic body pressed against her. She averted her face and closed her eyes, feeling his wet lips surround her taunt nipples and gently suck. She wiggled some more against his thighs. The hard, tense muscles of his sweltering body pinioned her to the bed. Lying naked under the crisp linen sheets with Gordon Wilson between her thighs was sensational. From the first moment she laid eyes on him, Margaret Anson knew she had to have him. He lowered his hips down on the soft pelt of hair sprouting from her crotch. She groaned again, lolling her head back and forth while his lips zinged pleasure through her nipples. His cock felt big as an elephant's trunk against her thigh. Margaret wanted him to move on her cunt and stick that huge, throbbing club up her love channel. She was all hot and moist; juice dribbled from her slit and filled the air with a musky fragrance.
Even the gentle breeze blowing through the open window could not cool the torrid passions stirred up inside her womb. She had to have him. And twisting in his arms, she found his ear lobe with her teeth and tenderly nibbled.
"Hurrry!" she moaned, licking the inside of his ear. "Hurrrry!"
Gordon pulled his lips away and waited. His heart pounded like a hammer. This girl was gorgeous. Why any man would let this dish slip through his fingers was beyond his understanding. He brought his hand down her ribs and along the pinched curve of her waist. Her hips were all hot and steamy underneath him and he was so goddman excited to fuck Margaret's sweltering cunt that he damn near shot his load against her leg.
His hand dropped at her waist and scooped up buttock's cheeks. He felt the heat of her rump against his hands. Man, she was going to be a fantastic fuck no matter where he thrust his cock.
He looked up at her face. Margaret's eyes were snapped shut, her rich full lips drawn tight. She was moaning to herself as his hand drew up her hips. His hard cock flickered against the taunt muscles of her thigh. Squeezing her rump, he pushed his cock through her ravine and poked her asshole.
"Aaaahhhhh!" she gasped.
Maybe she digs it there, he thought. Definitely, her asshole would be virgin tight. And despite Margaret's considerable strength, there was no way she could stop him from plugging her butt, if indeed he so wanted. The way his cock flickered, her asshole would be nice. Especially those round firm rump cheeks hunching back against his cock shaft.
Reluctantly, he pulled from her butt and positioned his dong against her juicy cunt. There was always time for tricks. And besides his balls were so heavy and full with jizz that he could barely move.
Margaret Anson was beside herself. Her body had been striped and caressed and fingered and licked and played with until her body was incapable of responding. She opened her eyes and saw Gordon rise up between her legs like a wild animal guarding his injured prey. His cock stood straight out in front like a telephone pole. His member was so big it took Margaret's breath away. Tremulously, she raised a hand up to the hard, rigid pole and clasped it. The wrinkled foreskin moved in her hand. Gordon was staring incredulously, but he made no move to stop Margaret as she slid her soft palm up and down his fuck pipe.
"Goooood!! ! " Gordon exclaimed.
Margaret Anson was shaking all over as she slowly jerked him off and her trembling fear surprised Gordon. Her blue eyes had zeroed in on the swollen scrotum dangling from the forest of pubic hair. She acted like a virgin seeing her first cock. She seemed drawn and repelled by his massive, protruding member. Gordon smiled to himself. She was disintegrating right before his eyes. Margaret's mouth hung open and Gordon could hear her panting.
I don't know what's got into this bitch, he thought, rising up to his knees. But I'm going to teach this broad a thing or two about fucking.
"Kneel," he commanded. "Hurry up and kneel down on the mattress."
Margaret scurried into position, her hand still holding onto his penis. Her warm palm felt like a mitten. She was real good at jerking off cock. He hated to pull her hand away except that her mouth looked so warm and inviting, he couldn't resist.
"Take me in your mouth," he croaked.
Margaret froze. Her flesh quivered as the terrible tingling shot through her thighs and up through her cunt. She was scared. Scared shitless and when he pulled her face downward, she resisted. Margaret did until he jerked his cock up towards her wet lips and forced himself down her throat.
"Gooood!" he laughed.
His penis climbed down her throat, the knotty cap at the tip of his prick burrowing a path along her raspy tongue. Hesistation was replaced by a inquenchable lust for his cock. She bowed before his rigid prick her mouth sucking and cleaning his sex like a vacuum cleaner.
A tingle started forming in his scrotum, a tingle that turned into an ache. He felt so overwhelmed that he wanted to come right then. But he held back.
The submissive body wedged between his legs and filled his mind with devilish thoughts. He was satisfied with Margaret. She could go on cleaning his cock until the stabbing pleasure of her tongue became too great and would trip the come load that filled his fuck gun.
But Gordon couldn't help remember that wonderful, fetid cunt. It was a rare perfect gem nestled in the puffed thatch of pubic hair. He just had to fuck her cunt. Just had to!
Margaret's back was curved down at his cock like an inverted salad bowl. Her rump rested on her heels while her face disappeared into his crotch. He gripped her ears like the handles of a water jug and pulled his cock from her mouth with a popping noise.
Margaret had to know what came next, but she did not move as he circled in back. Gently, he lifted the cheeks of her buttocks up until her thighs opened and the tufted cunt jewel stared sightlessly back at him. Her hole glistened from the cunt juice oozing from her slit.
He crawled between her legs and raised his aching cock up to her furry hole. He couldn't believe how nice and soft her cunt was. Even bent over dog style, her twat was soft as butter. Her thighs continued trembling, but that was only natural. He slipped a few inches into her hole, then retreated before going in again.
"How's that?" he asked stupidly.
Below him, heaving and gasping, Margaret grunted her approval. Her buttocks wagged slightly taking in a few inches of prick meat. Her channel became tighter as his prick sank in deeper.
Margaret squirmed and murmured, but that didn't stop Gordon. He clasped her tightly at the hip and rocked her haunches against his crotch.
"Hmmmmmm!" Margaret groaned. Margaret was hunching and twisting her hips. She fucked with every ounce of her quivering flesh and she seemed to grow hotter and stronger with every stroke.
Through the split crack in her rump, Gordon watched his cock disappearing into her fetid fuck hole. The satiny feel of Margaret flesh hugged his shaft. He was all drippy wet from the love juice that poured from her hole.
Quickly he turned his eyes away from her crack. If he watched the swelled loaves of her butt pumping up and down a second longer, he'd say to hell with waiting and shoot his wad straight down the flared neck of her cunt. And he didn't want to do that. Not yet anyway.
So while the grunting sounds coming from Margaret's throat mixed with the squeaking of bed springs and the slapping of flesh against flesh, Gordon looked out the bedroom window into the backyard.
That's when he saw Sherry Jackson
She was standing by the clothes line. It took him a second to realize that she didn't have any panties on. He watched, his eyes blinking several times and still he couldn't believe it.
"This isn't happening," he said to himself. And yet it was happening. His hands squeezed down on Margaret's thighs and pulled her cunt channel back against his dick with such force that she screamed.
"Ohhhhhh!" Margaret yelled. His cock stroked her loins like a shovel feeding a hungry furnace. Her cone-shaped breasts hung jiggling like water balloons as her hips see-sawed back and forth. She wanted more and more sex. Her womb demanded it. Margaret was not going to quit until he satisfied her wishes.
Gordon had no intentions of giving up. Drips of cock fluid squeezed out of his cock head as he watched Sherry undressing and only a super-human effort stopped him from coming.
What is she doing in the backyard without any clothes on, he thought. The little girl was not Margaret's kid, but she looked very familiar even though the distance was too great to make a positive identification.
As much as he was drawn to Margaret's silky skin and lush, womanly curves, he couldn't stop watching the tiny intruder who now stood naked outside on the lawn. His eyes could only stare helplessly as the girl moved one way then the next, her finger caressing the tiny red nipples that dotted her chest.
Outside Sherry had no idea she was being watched. She squeezed her rump muscles together and brought her fingers down to her crotch and rubbed the wet, glistening mound. The faster she rubbed the more excited Sherry became. Closing her eye lids, she saw swirling clouds of light punctuated by white colored explosions. She opened her thighs, squatting down in a wordless invitation for something to happen. The hot Spring wind swirled around her shaking thighs warming her wet snatch. Her fingers went to her hole and pleasure shot through her body as she rubbed her slit hard.
"Oooooo!" she moaned.
It felt so good squatting down, rubbing her cunt with the flat palm of her hand, that Sherry couldn't stop. She traced the swollen lips of her cunt with her finger, and when that made her wet, she started drilling into her fuck tube. In and out went her finger as she squatted lower and lower. Her twat spread open, ready and willing, and her legs trembled with excitement. If this was wrong, she thought mischievously, well, nobody was going to see her.
Nobody that is except Gordon. Margaret was moaning with passion and her channel muscles flexed against his surging shaft. But Gordon didn't care. His eyes watched the mysterious youngster masturbating in the back yard and still he couldn't believe it. He was grunting like an animal. He couldn't help wondering what the little girl would be like spread open the way Margaret was positioned. He watched her squat and imagined those scrawny rump cheeks trembling in his hands as he bent her buttocks across a table and slowly fed hard dick into her cunt hole. Her virgin cunt hole at that!
Margaret's sex odor made a cloud in the room and his nostrils flared as he sucked in the fragrance. It was the smell of lust and desire and sweltering, unreleased sex-the smell of an animal in heat!
His balls swayed from the slapping flesh of Margaret's buttocks. Margaret was coming! Her thighs squeezed and bucked and humped. Her sweltering cunt channel closed down all squeaky tight around his pecker. The sperm churned up through his fuck wand as she moaned and begged for his hot love juice.
"Fuck, baby, fuck!" he encouraged. He was talking to the little girl outside as much as he was to Margaret. His cock was hard, but he was not going to come just yet. He was going to give Margaret the fucking of her life.
And he just might have too except Sherry picked that minute to dress up in her little league uniform.
"It can't be!" roared a voice inside the house. It nearly scared Sherry witless. Looking around she saw the open window and then inside she saw the outline of a naked man on a bed. And he was staring at Sherry!
"Ohhhh!" she gasped. She clutched at the buttons on her jersey. Sherry had to get away. And in one big hurry. She started to run for the gate, then remembered her torn clothing. But it was too late to go back. She ran to the side gate and unhooked the lock and was running at full speed out the gate.
The uniform scratched her skin as she ran. The tingling between her legs hadn't stop just because Sherry was running away. If anything, the woolen cloth against her bare crotch acted as a stimulant.
She jumped on her bicycle that was parked at the side of the house and pedaled madly off down the street, away from the Anson house. The long neck of the bicycle seat got wedged up her crotch. The wool was scratching her nipples and tingling the wet flesh of her cunt. It was going to be a long practice session. The seat pressing into her crotch as she jerked back and forth against the hard leather was almost as exciting as her finger.
Sherry's heart beat a mile a minute. It throbbed so hard she thought her chest might explode. Now, safely away from the house, her face turned crimson red. How could she have been so stupid? As she neared the baseball diamond, the other girls were just arriving for practice. She was safe, at least for now. But a question still nagged her mind.
Who was the man inside Mrs. Anson's house. It couldn't be Mr. Anson because Trixie said he was away on a business trip. So it had to be a stranger, someone who drove the green Chevrolet that was parked in the driveway.
Sherry's heart was still pounding like jackhammer. The green car. She had seen it before. That worried her.
CHAPTER TWO
He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and maneuvered the candy red sports car through the mid-afternoon traffic wondering who the little girl was.
How could this happen to me? Gordon asked himself. He sunk low in the driver's seat, his eyes almost level with the dash board. For drivers coming the opposite way, it appeared as if the sports car had no driver and several swerved instinctively, sounding their horns to show their displeasure.
Gordon was barely aware of the noise. It was a bizarre situation. Nothing like it had happened to him before. What made young girls act so frolicsome and carefree? It was bad enough that this perfect girl was cavorting around in the backyard of a woman's house without any clothes on. But she was actually fingering her young pussy. He had watched it himself. And now driving down the boulevard, sunk deep down into the sports car seat, he could see her rump hunching up and down. There was nothing that could stop the girl. Her finger was jammed deep into the tiny folds of her pussy and she was rolling her hips, using the sleeve of her cunt against her finger. Gordon had stared over Margaret's hunching rear end out at the gamboling figure in the grass, her nudity showing the joy and innocence of youth. Margaret began to scream.
"Oh, I'm going to come. I'm going to come.. . come! COME!! ! "
Margaret's voice went off in the still room like a cannon shot. Her warm, soft cunt hole held his cock like a closed fist. Her butt, symmetrically perfect as a watermelon, jackhammered his cock.
Ohhhh! Margaret was a good fuck! The squeaking bed became music to his ears. Sweat poured from her skin and he watched the salty fluid trickle down her back, through the crack in her butt and down her trembling thighs.
His cock pounded and he thought his body was going to collapse against her tingling rump. Margaret worked his fuck pole like a finely tuned instrument. The wet, warm walls of her cunt sucked on the bulbous end like two lips sucking a ice cream through a straw.
There was nothing for Gordon to do what grab hold of her rocking thighs and fuck Margaret until she collapsed. And that's what he did. He went through one screaming orgasm after another. And yet all the time he was feeding dick into her chasm, he couldn't take his mind off the nymph in the backyard.
Now nearing the baseball field, Gordon gripped the wheel and groaned softly to himself. If only she had not held the baseball uniform, then he might be able to fool himself into believing that the nymph existed only in his mind. But the uniform had been a giveaway. The girl was real. And what was worse, she was on his baseball team. Ohhhh, he groaned. There was no shaking the girl from his thoughts. She was on the lawn playing with her pubes. She radiated a wonderful sexuality that excited him in way he had no control of. He imagined himself standing next to her telling the girl how naughty it was to run naked in public.
Then with no warning, he imagined something else. His tongue was jabbing between her quivering cunt lips while she kicked and screamed for help. Oh, it was terrible to ponder such things. Her little, half developed cunt was no match for his thundering fuck stick. He wouldn't fit into her no matter how careful he was or how much lubricant he used. Why even Margaret could barely take in his fuck pipe without first stretching out her labia.
But still he could lick her twat. His tongue was narrow at the end and got wider and wider going back until the raspy pink surface could cover her entire cunt mound!
"Stop it," he shouted to himself. "Get hold of yourself, man. Start playing with that jailbait and you're finished."
Staring out at the road, he saw a truck edging across the divider and he swung hard to the right almost careening into a Volkswagon full of teenagers.
Up ahead was the city park. The road elevated slightly and acres and acres of green grass spread out before him. It was a pretty place with fountains and recreational playthings and a swimming pool for the grownups and half a dozen baseball fields. But Gordon didn't see these things; his eyes stared down at the ball diamond where tiny figures dressed in gray uniforms were playing ball. Out there, somewhere, was a little girl with blonde hair, blue eyes and a sensual little body. "Which one?" he asked, swinging into the parking lot.
Only after he stopped, did Gordon notice the bulge in his crotch. His cock was hard again: hard as it had ever been.
* * *
Gordon Wilson had returned from Vietnam a war hero. It was at the height of the war in 1968 during the Tet offensive when the Viet Cong were threatening to take over the country and the US Marines picked Gordon to be a hero. He had been caught up in a fire fight near some village he could never pronounce and being too scared to run, Gordon had helped drag a few wounded Marines to safety.
For this he received a batch of medals and several commendations.
Gordon Wilson had returned home a war hero and he was looked upon with a mixture of awe and admiration by the towns people. They had all heard the story about Gordon rushing into battle to save his buddies.
But there were a few stories they never heard. Gordon had come out of the battle field tired and exhausted. He had a three day pass to Saigon. A little booze and some Saigon poontang would clean away the fatigue.
Gordon made the rounds of several gritty street bars, but the beer was terrible and the hookers were old and cynical. The drinks he bought that night had no effect on him. It was like drinking rancid water.
A hooker finally caught his eye and after paying the madam, Gordon found himself walking through a dark alley way back to a small, ill-lit room.
Gordon slowly unbuttoned his shirt while the girl watched inquisitively. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the prostitute was Chinese, not Vietnamese, and her teeth were straight and white. He unbelted his pants and lay down on the bed closing his eyes.
She sat down on the mattress, then curled around his crotch. Her small breasts pressed against his belly, the red tipped ends pulsating against his skin.
"What matter," she said. "Too much beer?"
What the fuck is she talking about, he murmured. Rising up on his elbows, Gordon looked down at the naked Chinese girl. In her small palm lay his limp cock.
He blinked twice. There was no sensation at all in his crotch. She ran her fingers along the flaccid foreskin trying to stir up some excitement by pulling on the bulbous end.
Nothing happened.
"No workee," the girl said.
Gordon broke out in a sweat. From the time he was thirteen years old when he had coaxed his best friend's older sister to lift her skirt behind the woodshed, he had been potent. Not once had his prick been soft as putty as it was now in the curled palm of this Chinese hooker.
His blood pounded in his temples, blinding his vision. It was hot and sweltering in the "hooch" and there was the movement of small insects and hungry rodents all around him. He was so scared he wanted to scream out.
What has happened to me, he cried inwardly. Shame flooded his brain. It washed over the traumatic events of war and violence, soaking into his sub-conscious until Gordon felt small and helpless. Behind the suffocating shame lay guilt and beyond that lay an infinite darkness that was death itself.
The girl pinched the circumcised penis tip and pulled his shaft straight up before Gordon's enormous, staring eyes. The girl looked into his eyes like a fortune teller staring into the tea leaves. He averted his eyes. He wanted to crawl up into a ball and die. Back at the hotel was his .45 automatic. His hands were shaking but he knew they were capable of holding the heavy gun and pulling the trigger. He shivered again.
"You rest," said the Chinese girl. She climbed through his crotch and rested her cherry size nipples on his heaving chest. She wiped the sweat from his brow with her dainty fingers, and when he turned his head, he saw her fingers held a neatly rolled marijuana cigarette.
"Smokee," she said. "Very good. I can help you, GI."
He took the joint and inhaled the acrid smoke deep into his lungs as she lit the end. He didn't normally smoke grass, but the Chinese hooker was being nice and for some reason he trusted her. The Americans had helped the Chinese people living in Saigon. They were the only people over here who treat us decent, he thought, smoking the joint. His head began to reel and he lay back, not fighting the effect of the grass as music and sounds of the street and the hot stink surrounding Saigon swirled in his mind.
He must have dozed off because he woke up to a dark room. He tried to move and couldn't. His arms and legs were useless appendages. He twisted his head. The oppressive heat covered him in its humid warmth. He realized the girl had slipped some drug in with the marijuana. Because he could feel his whole body as he lay on the bed with enormous sensitivity. He just couldn't move a muscle. Paralyzed yet terribly aware, he thought, viewing his condition. Amazing.
The girl suddenly appeared through the doorway and she was not alone. Toddling along with her were two giggling girls, the oldest being perhaps fourteen. They were giggling at his naked body and he cursed the girl for bringing the kids in. The bitch, he thought.
When my strength returns, I'll kill her.
Then the older girl did a funny thing. She moved between his legs and gripped his cock with both hands.
Gordon watched too astonished to say anything. My goodness! he gasped, as her tiny fingers ran up and down his wrinkled foreskin. The blood was pounding in his temples again, but his cock was flickering. Her tiny fingers tickled and teased the sensitive skin.
Gordon looked up helplessly as the little girl fitted the end of his floppy cock into the warm hole of her mouth and gently sucked on the fast hardening end.
"Likeee," said the Chinese hooker, a smile beaming on her lips.
Gordon didn't know what to say. His cock was growing harder and stronger by the second. His wrinkled scrotum, once drawn up tight as a drum was all puffed out and swollen. It felt soooo gooood! Her tiny, childish lips made slurping sound against his penis. Her big round eyes looked up at him for approval and he could only nod for her to continue.
You're a bastard, he thought. That girl is barely a teenager. Indeed, her breasts were so small that the ends just barely peaked through the pink, cotton blouse. The Chinese girl was thin as a reed and her long black hair was cut in bangs across her forehead and hung in pigtails down her back. The little top covering her tiny body was like those all school girls wore to school.
The older woman just watched approvingly and Gordon wondered if this could be the mother. What a sickening thought. His stomach tightened up in a knot and he groaned to himself. That a mother would allow such a thing seemed intolerable. The little girl's teeth tugged gently at the knotty end of his penis sending a ripple of pleasure up along his spine.
He was strong and hard and nothing had ever felt so fantastic. He groaned again closing his eyes as the little girl crawled up into his crotch.
"Likee," said the mother. She bowed at the waist, a smile of accomplishment crossing her lips. She had lived in Saigon a long time, through twenty five years of war, and she had learned about men and violence and the ways flesh could be tortured and excited and made happy.
The American was fighting back the desire which swept him up in its grasp like the raging sea swallowing up the tiny fishing boats that challenged the ocean. Gently she gripped the younger girl whose name was Yin to crawl up on the American's chest and lick his nipples. She would make this man strong and powerful again. She, Madam Sinn had done this many times. It was her power and knowledge of sex that brought the Americans back again and again. And this same knowledge of the sins of the flesh kept the Viet Cong from blowing up her prostitution parlor. War makes animals of us all, she mused as her young child Yin pulled off her dress and ascended the American's body. The madam felt a stirring between her finely shaped thighs. She too was excited by the raw red penis rising curving upwards in her older daughter's mouth. He was long and thick around as the bamboo pole. And the bloated sack hanging down from his cock was filled with the white hot seed of sex. Her daughter's mouth worked the end while her dainty fingers ran up and down the shaft. The blue veins lacing the erect penis were pulsating with blood. He is a man, the madam thought, her loins aching for his penis. But she would wait; the moment, afterall, belonged to Yin and Yang.
Gordon felt humiliated by the two girls crawling across him like baby primates in a zoo. Sensation returned to his hands, but his arms were still weak from the drug-filled joint and he was forced to lay back as the two Chinks licked and sucked and jerked him off.
Yin giggled as she rubbed her chest. But her mouth was deadly serious as her wet tongue lashed out teasing Gordon's nipples. He couldn't deny how warm and excited he was. His cock was bloated twice normal size. Only a super human effort could stop him from jizzing down her throat.
But he couldn't hold out for long. Little Yin's naked rump was facing his mouth. Her butt was far from plump; but the graceful way her two buns curved down into her slender thighs was a sensation. As she raised up on her knees he looked through her crack at the hairless pubes underneath. His dry mouth was suddenly wet. Gordon cleared his throat. Yin's mouth was teasing the hell out of his tits and that other sister was jerking the end of his cock until he wanted to scream. There was no sound in the room except the pounding of his heart and the sound of lips sucking and licking. Yin's little cunt looked so inviting that he couldn't take his eyes away. The pangs of guilt were nothing compared to the surge of lust raging through his flesh.
As if reading his mind, Yin arched her rump backwards, and Gordon finding the strength to raise his chin buried his face between her soft cheeks and found that hairless twat with his tongue.
"Hmmmmmm!" the girl groaned.
He was surprised by the Chink. Surprised that a girl so young would find him, an American old enough to be her daddy, to be exciting. Gordon was surprised at how wet that hairless cunt slit was. His tongue slithered back and forth, tasting the viscous fluid seeping from her slit. Her buns wiggled against his face, but his tongue licked at her twat, finding the clitoris wedged high in the folds of her labia, teasing her the way his cock might do before thrusting into her hole.
"Aaaaahhhhhh!! " she gasped.
He felt like joining her. It seemed incredible. If he had tried the same thing back home in his small town, the Sheriff might lynch him right on the spot. And Gordon might not blame him. But it seemed all right in Saigon. It was different here.
He might hate himself later, but more than anything he wanted to fuck this little girl whose miniature cunt and slender buttocks held him captive. Oh, if that could only be, then nothing would bother him in this world again. He could walk away from this wretched straw shack wedged in the crooked alley way where disease and death and violence were every day occurrences and feel free. He could walk away, step on a Clamore and not care a bit as the steel ball bearing shredded his flesh. Because he would die a happy, satisfied man.
But Gordon didn't die. Instead, Yin rocked her pussy back and forth across his tongue. Her cunt lips grew all soft and mushy. Its sudden movement made Gordon lurch forward. His tongue went rigid, forming a wedge shape, and surged forward into her cunt. Yin's buttocks snapped around his nose imprisoning his tongue in her cunt. Then she rocked slowly. Her moaning, sing-song voice was hypnotic, the pungent smell of her loins overwhelming. His balls pounded, his cock flickered and Gordon was momentarily stunned by the raw, pungent flesh clutching his face.
At the other end, Yang lifted her mouth from his penis and under her mother's coaxing swiveled on his crotch. She was small and hairless between her legs like her sister. And her cunt hole was virgin. The thick, humid air swirled up under her trembling thighs, back through her ass slit causing the pink, wrinkled sphincter to ache.
She looked at the horrible thick pipe sticking up from the bush of black, coarse pubic hair and her muscles refused to budge. Despite the urgent whispering of her mother, Yang could not bring herself to squat down on the penis. Even as the skin shone from the layer of spit so tenderly applied with her tongue, Yang could not. Her mother would beat her furiously, but she had been beaten before.
"Do not disgrace me," her mother snapped.
"But he is so large, he will hurt me. Hurt me worse than a thousand beatings wise mother. I cannot."
A sharp, stabbing pain made Yang scream. She snapped her head and looked with horror at the bamboo staff her mother held in her curled finger. The round black eyes stared at Yang with such luminescent force that she almost fainted.
Yang watched as her mother removed her short mini shirt and holding the stick firmly under her cunt began to lower herself. Yang gasped. It was not possible. And yet her mother was doing just that. She was taking the huge pole up into her cunt hole. It went up and up and up. The great length of pole sank into the black passion void that was her mother's cunt; it was met by a low moaning sound, a noise filled with pain and passion; a sound that prickled Yang skin.
Quickly Yang squatted down on the erect cock. The rounded head fit snuggly between her pussy lips and squatting lower, the shaft went in nice and easy.
"Ahhhhhhhh! Sooooo goooood!" cried the American.
Yang turned and imitated the rhythmic hunching of her mother. The penis went up into her cunt channel with a squeaking sound. The shaft went deep into her narrow little channel. So deep that she cried out in fear as her flesh stretched out before the penetrating wedge-shaped head of his cock.
Wet from her mouth and lubricated by twat juice, Gordon's prick drilled the girl's little hole. She was in a half squat, her clear, white skin drawn tight around her mouth and lips as the cock head pressed against her hymen. The pain was intolerable. She knew about this evil skin flap that prevented a man from experiencing her fully. It was going to hurt, but she was squeezing her thighs and forcing her rump downwards and her hymen was going to burst open. One way or another, he was going in all the way.
Gordon was so excited he didn't know what to do. The girl's cunt was pushing his hard-on back into his crotch. And he felt angry and hot and guilty all at once. Thrusting his tongue upwards, he felt Yin spread lips of her cunt around his face. His face was soaked from her fuck juices. The electricity churned up in his balls made a beeline up his body and out through his tongue into her hole. Yin recoiled as passion reamed her twat.
Ohhhhhh it was soooo wonderful! His emotions were doing a balancing act on the head of a pin. Even the soft plunge of pussy that enveloped his shaft as Yang's hymen popped open could barely raise surprise in Gordon.
Quite suddenly his strength returned to his arms and legs. Licking the last drops of moisture from Yin's hole, he pulled her butt cheeks off his face and sat up. Yang had squatted down on his cocked legs straddling her crotch. Tears of pain and joy streaked down her flat face. They formed rivulets that streamed across her plump, brown colored nipples and trickled into her crotch where the trunk of his cock protruded.
He saw his giant pole wedged in her hole, rolled his hips as warmth and passion and lust swelled his muscles and gasped out loud.
"It's insane," he shouted. Quickly his fingers found Yang's small breasts. When she giggled at him, Gordon became angered and he pulled her tiny torso down on his and lay back on the bed.
"Fuck me, fuck me, you little cunt!" he ordered.
Now he had her and was fucking her this jailbait and nothing short of death would stop him from coming in her cunt. He gripped her butt cheeks and forced her hips to undulate against his shaft. Yang was screaming in Chinese but he didn't give two fucks. Over he rolled, splaying her legs wide while his cock filled her hole like a foot stuck in a sock.
"Aaaaahhhh!! ! " he groaned. He rammed fucked her again and again until he was drained and tired. His balls ached with sperm. His shaft was throbbing with blood, the glans pulsating, ready. Ready to fuck!
"In!" he roared. His hips flashed forward, the tiny child's hips popped up and he exploded. Thick, hot sperm shot from the end of his cock down into the tortured, bloody channel of her fuck hole.
Yang shrieked. Her hips flailed about helplessly. The raw, painful flesh between her legs was all wet and warm from the thick cream spurting up inside. Her tiny nipples pulsated like tiny red stop lights. And the bed groaned underneath her back as the American's heavy, heaving, hairy chest pressed her down into the mattress.
It was humid, hot and wet as a shower room and Yang couldn't breathe and she was frantic because this club buried in her womb was turning her loins on fire. Twisting was impossible. She could only lay back and receive.
Though too young to realize what domination was, Yang instinctively followed Gordon's wishes. Her body became a warm, supple glove in which to thrust and fuck and come. And that he did. His jizz drained out his pecker in long, sticky strains until the girl's tiny socket could hold not another drop. Then he pulled free and ran his spurting shaft up along her sweltering body and jammed the throbbing end through Yang's lips. He found her throat in one sudden thrust. Her tongue licked furiously, curling around the wrinkled foreskin while her throat gulped down his sperm.
It was good every glorious second. And when he at last fell exhausted to the bed, Gordon wondered if anything would ever feel so good again.
He turned his head and there in the corner was the young mother. She was stripped bare of her clothing and Gordon saw her skin was jiggling like jell-o in a dish. Her lips strained to stifle the scream lodged on the tip of her tongue. And following a patch down through her small tits and along the hollows of her waist and along the tight sheet of muscles leading to her cunt. She was a beautiful, vibrant being, the bad light reflecting off her sweat coated skin, shimmering like glass. Down further, jammed into the tufted ball of hair, lodged the joy stick. His eyes watched the enormous wand gliding into her pussy and he was amazed.
She's masturbating, he thought. Incredible, but true, the prostitute was driving the dildo device into her cunt, fucking her open, puffy hole with swift, powerful strokes.
Her children were giggling and fumbling with Gordon's limp cock, their tender mouths sucking the bulbous end.
My goodness! he exclaimed, surprised at the silly sound of his own words. The girls were urging him on, their voice grunting as their arms reached to push him over. Gordon realized that the lovemaking their mother had taught them was not over yet. He rolled over, craning his neck so he could watch the woman climax. She was ready. Her thighs trembled unsteadily as her hands were driving the stick into her pussy like a piston.
"Aaaaaa!! " she gasped at length. She writhed against the walls. Her breasts shook uncontrollably. In went the stick a final last time and then she slumped down to the floor, falling on her back while her hand still held the mating club.
"This is crazy," he thought. But it was not a dream. For the dreams do not knead the flesh and push and pull at your legs. Nothing in his imagination could produce this torrid scene of lust and depravity. He did not speak a word of her sing song language, but watching her squirm on the dirt, her back arched like a bow while the dildo impaled her could not be erased from his mind.
So engrossed was Gordon, that he turned to realize Yin and Yang had managed to push him over on his belly. He looked back and saw Yin's pubes staring through the slit in her bent buttocks as she knelt at his side.
No man in his right mind would let a thing like this happen, he told himself. Then in the middle of his self deprecation, he felt a twinge of pain shot through his backsides.
"What the . . . " he began, but already it was too late to stop the girls. Yang was dipping her face between his butt cheeks and her tongue was out teasing and licking.
The warm, raspy surface lapped greedily at his ass hole making Gordon groan. He pounded his fist on the bed groaning with desire, and racked with grief.
Her tongue slurped against his asshole, going back and forth in just the way his tongue had licked Yin's tender pubes. Over and around her tongue went, working his butt like a paint brush until he was coated with her wetness.
And there was nothing Gordon could do now except enjoy the secret pleasures of a little girl's mouth and remember how good the clean socket hole cunt had felt sucking his sperm.
* * *
The baseball field was velvet green and the girls, dressed in their drab uniforms looked like hefty pieces of lint covering a green background.
He pulled the car behind the batters cage and stuck a fresh cigarette between his teeth. It was sunny and humid, not un-like those days in Saigon so many years ago. But of course times had changed. The girls out there, he mused were nothing like those giggling young waifs that sold their bodies for a crust of bread or a few bartered cigarettes.
He hefted his pants which hung low on his hips as he stood over the dugout. Pulling a clipboard from the wall, he looked down the list of names.
Which one, he thought. Which one was in the backyard squatting over her hand. His blood pounded in his temples again. Fuck it, he thought. This was not the time to dream about some young chickie who liked scratching her twat. Gordon needed money and he had a job to do, an awesome job. In the span of a few short weeks he had to turn these squirrelly little cock teasers into a little league team.
He pushed his baseball hat back on his brow. And not just any old team; he had to have a winner. His contract didn't say as much, but if he wanted steady work, then that was what his bosses expected of him.
Gordon spit his chewing gum on the grass. Fucking parents are more hotheaded when it comes to little league than the kids are. It was too damn bad that kid's games couldn't be left in the hands of the kids.
But then he wasn't getting paid to be a philosopher. His salary was not being forked over to make them happy, but to get results.
Gordon spit again and he started to walk towards the field when he heard a girl's voice behind him say, "Sorry I'm late Mr. Wilson." Gordon turned around and found himself staring into Sherry Jackson's pretty blue eyes. Her face was all covered with sweat and her strawberry blonde hair stuck out from under her baseball cap.
He looked at her face, puzzled. "Get out on the field," he said. Then as an after thought added, "Where have you been anyway?"
"Changing my uniform."
He watched her buttocks moving up and down like ball bearings as she ran to the outfield to fuck fly balls. And suddenly he felt weak and shaky inside.
Because he could never forget that movement. Not ever.
CHAPTER THREE
It was a long, grueling practice for the girls and when it was over they all struggled to the dugout for one last pep talk by coach Wilson before heading home.
Sweat poured from Gordon Wilson's brow. His hands were raw from batting fly balls into the outfield and his voice was hoarse from barking commands.
Any other coach in his condition would have headed to the nearest bar for a few cold beers and then drive home to a hot shower and a good long sleep.
But Gordon wasn't going home right away. All through the afternoon, he had watched Sherry Jackson running back and forth across the outfield. He was positive that she was the girl. The walk was a giveaway, but so was the way she stooped for ground balls.
She was beautiful to watch in action, too beautiful. Careful, Wilson. This isn't 'nam. And your ass is in the slammer if you're not careful.
After the pep talk he kept his eyes focused at the back of the dugout avoiding the girl's scrawny, waif like body. His cock coiled into a knot and he didn't want to look down. Spring a hard on with these girls and I'm finished, he realized.
And yet the thought of sex was never far from his conscious mind. Having given his speech, he watched the girls scamper away and breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be a long season. A very long season.
Sherry was sweating up a storm. The tight fitting wool uniform scratched her skin and without underpants on the itching became unbearable. She dragged herself to her bicycle and swung a leg over the seat.
It was a long way home, over two miles, and Sherry was so pooped that it seemed more like two hundred. The hot leather seat rubbed between her legs. The back and forth motion of bicycling had rubbed her cunt raw. It felt like her twat lips had been sandpapered right down to the naked flesh.
The pain was bad enough. But the sweat had trickled between her butt cheeks causing her rump to itch. She watched the other girls as they left the park. Most had rides with their parents who made special trips out to watch their girls play baseball. If only her mommy didn't have to work, thought Sherry. Then she could ride home in a hurry and run upstairs and scratch her itch.
But that wasn't the case. She had a long ride home and that made her mad. Which made her crotch itch even worse. It felt terrible and she had to scratch her wet mound right away.
Walking behind a bushy elm tree, Sherry unbuckled her pants and slid her hand down between her thighs. The flesh was all puffed around the long dark slit that split the center of her crotch. She heard car engines starting in the parking lot as the happy families and their tired daughters began the trip home. Sherry leaned against the tree trunk which concealed her from the view of passing drivers and scratched her crotch.
Ohhhh, that felt so good. The more she scratched the more her skin itched. Her fingernails attacked her pubes. But no sooner had she finished then her thighs began to tingle and then her rump and then the soft, downy skin between her butt cheeks. It was maddening for Sherry; it itched worse than poison ivy! The rash grew and grew until one hand was not enough to satisfy Sherry. She jammed both hands down the open fly of her pants, trying to keep her pants from falling off by clutching the waist band with her forearm.
But it didn't work. And as she squatted by the tree, her pants suddenly dropped around her knees exposing her raw, red skin. Sherry didn't really care. Her fingers went back and forth across her clitoris, causing a strange, thrilling pleasure to shoot back through her cunt. It felt good. But not good enough. So she did it again. And again. Until Sherry was lost in her own little world rocking her hips back and forth like a human rocking horse as jolts of pleasure excited her pussy.
Nothing could stop Sherry from masturbating. Nothing that is, except Gordon Wilson's grating voice. "What are you doing?" he barked. He knew damn well what the little brat was up to. He could hear her bleating like a sheep all the way from the dugout. Luckily, Gordon was the last one to leave the field or Sherry would really be in trouble.
He stood staring there, not moving really, just letting his eyes take in the beautiful sight of Sherry's small curving rump and those nice, slender legs trapped at the ankles by her pants.
The rise in his crotch, made Gordon sweat. Everywhere he turned, he found this girl with her pants down doing this lewd thing to herself. He thought possibly that she was part of some sinister plot to get him fired or thrown in jail. It was a crazy notion, but then Gordon had been fucking quite a few bored housewives and the word had to be circulating.
Just then Sherry turned around. Her hands crossed her crotch and Gordon wished secretly that she would move her hands so he could study that hairless crotch that so enticed him.
"I've got poison oak," she blurted out. Tears welled in the girl's huge blue eyes. "It hurt so bad," she blurted out. "I scratched and scratched and it only got worse. And I've got to ride my bicycle home too and that will only make it hurt worse."
Instinct told Gordon, the girl was lying. He knew damn well what she was doing behind the tree And she deserved to be punished. Little girls have to learn sometime that they can't carry on in such a depraved manner with impunity.
"Your father would give you a good spanking," said Gordon. "What your doing is . . . wrong."
He could barely get the words out before his voice cracked. Yet her response was totally unnerving.
"My daddy ran off," Sherry answered. "I have just mommy. And she has to work all the time."
A flood of compassion went out to the girl. And Gordon forgot himself. Poison oak could be very dangerous if it was allowed to spread. It wouldn't be the first time he had misread a situation.
He looked at Sherry with compassion, keeping his eyes leveled above her naked crotch. It's your job to keep the girls healthy, he told himself. Back in his car there was medicine for just such emergencies. It was only right to help Sherry. And give her a ride home too. That's what grown ups were for after all. To offer help children growing up in the world.
"Pull your pants up," he demanded hoarsely. He turned quickly around to keep her from seeing the tent shape sticking out from his crotch.
Sherry was terribly embarrassed. Her face was red as a beet. The itch had nothing to do with poison oak.
But she couldn't tell the coach why her crotch was on fire. As she pulled on her pants and buckled the belt, Sherry started to smile. If her mother had been the coach, Sherry would have had her young ass paddled for sure. But Mr. Wilson was just feeling sorry for her. And that was fine with Sherry. Tagging along behind the coach, she decided he was a pretty good egg.
By the time Gordon had retrieved his tote bag with the first aid medicine inside and walked back to the dug out, his face had broken out in a sweat and his hands shook so bad he could barely get the cap off the tube.
Get hold of yourself, he thought. This is for the girl's own good.
Sherry was also feeling excited. The back of the dug out was confining and the walls seemed to loom up at her like the walls of a cage. She felt shaky and sweaty and embarrassed. Her panties were on Mrs. Anson's lawn.
She wanted to say no when Gordon asked her to unbuckle her pants and lie down on the bleacher seat, but she couldn't. She had made a little white lie about the poison oak and she was just going to continue, there was no backing down now.
Biting her lip, Sherry dropped her pants. It was cold in the enclosure and goose bumps appeared on her milky white skin. She gritted her teeth and promised herself never again to be caught without panties on. She was just waiting for Mr. Wilson to ask why she wore nothing under her wool pants and despite the frantic way her mind sought a solution, Sherry could think of none.
"Hmmmmm", said Gordon, admiring the smooth curve of her buttocks. Her buns were flexing and squeezing together in a manner so seductive that he could barely breathe. He fumbled with the tube of antiseptic cream as he watched her butt so nice and virginal it nearly made him spurt jizz in his trousers.
"That's a-a-a nasty rash," he croaked. In his eagerness, Gordon had managed to squeezed the whole tube of goo into his hand. Shit, he felt so clumsy. But there was no stopping now. He had started and now putting his hand on her rump, he was going to finish.
"Is that better?" he asked.
Sherry wiggled. Relief spread through her body in wave after glorious wave. The cream was cold against her skin. But his palm was very, very warm. The goo went on nice and thick all over her buttocks and thigh and along her hips. The hand felt soft as silk against her skin and Sherry almost went to sleep because the stroking felt so good.
"Has the itching gone away," he asked once more. All the time he rubbed her flanks, Gordon told himself he was only doing his job as a baseball coach. But now staring down at his hand wedged between the fleshy curve of her thighs, he realized how pointless his self deception was. He was dazed by the impact of his own salacious thoughts. Pulling his straight fingers through her legs sawing his way closer to her pubes, Gordon felt the collapse of whatever good intentions remained in his soul.
"Now turn over," he said.
Sharon giggled out loud. His hand was acting funny down there; it was almost as nice as her firm little bicycle seat. "Turn over," she asked. "Why Mr. Wilson. My rash is back there."
"That's right, but weren't you scratching yourself in front," he reminded her. "I distinctly remember you using hands to . . . scratch."
Well, he was right on that point and she couldn't very well deny it. He had seen her by the tree and pretending otherwise was foolish.
I'll just keep my eyes closed, Sharon thought, turning on her hip. He'll be through in a minute and I can go home. Besides his hands do feel good.
It was a good thing that her eyes were snapped shut because Gordon's tongue was hanging half out of his mouth giving him the appearance of a mad man. He raised his sticky fingers and brought them down gently on her hairless pubes. Sharon groaned out loud, raising her hips slightly off the bench. Her swelled cunt mound was still pink from her tiny hand rubbing the clitoris. And Gordon didn't waste any time stroking her slit. He followed the hollow of her thigh working the cream into a concentric pool. Her splendid pussy, wet still from her own stroking was exquisite jewel to be tended gently by his daring fingers.
"Oooooo!! ! " she gasped. A laugh formed on her lips, but she realized how angry Mr. Wilson would be with her. He was being very nice to her and laughing, even though her skin was ticklish, was impolite.
"Just about through," he wheezed. His eyes followed her tender slit which cut a fine little trail down through her legs. Her legs were clamped shut and he wanted desperately to reach through and touch her velvet flesh all the way down.
He pushed in a futile attempt. She wouldn't budge without forcing Sherry and he wasn't ready for that. After all fooling around was one thing; rape was something else.
So he withdrew momentarily and concentrated on her cunt. It was so small and tight, yet he knew how ripe that channel flesh could be inside. And the smell was thick and pungent. It formed a cloud around them and it drew Gordon closer to the little girl.
"I think there's just a.. . " he began. Then suddenly Gordon quit stroking the girl's swollen mound. Because he was tired with the charade and in a momentary aberration, he drew his finger up against her slit and forced his way inside.
Sherry's eyes popped open. He went into her cooze so quick and smooth that there was nothing she could do. The wet, finger felt terribly foreign climbing into the funnel shaped channel between her legs. How it tickled! She wrenched backwards, arching her pelvis straight up in the air towards his mouth.
"Ooooooooo!" she gasped.
The deep resonant sound of her voice crackled with electricity in his ear and immediately he removed his hands. Man alive, get hold of yourself before you go completely crazy.
"Well, er,. . . That takes care of your rash," he said. He smiled down at Sherry and tried a fatherly chuckle which failed miserably.
She was an urchin laid out before his lecherous hands. The shock of her nakedness made him recoil. Her tender flesh was covered with the thick gooey cream and it was pitifully obvious what had transpired. He hungered for that cold beer in the ice box. The bubbly fluid would feel soothing going down his parched throat. Anything but this, he said to himself. He held a hand out to Sherry and as quickly as his conquest had begun, it was over.
"There you go," he said, pulling her wool pants up around her waist. "You're all set."
Sherry was no fool, but she couldn't make head nor tails of the coach's bizarre behavior. It was wrong for him to stick a finger into her slit. Mr. Wilson knew it too because his eyes were all glassy and he was acting very strange in her presence. She looked down and was surprised at the bulge in his crotch. It was enormous and Mr. Wilson made no attempt to hide himself or turn away. Mommy would be angry if she told about Mr. Wilson. But she wouldn't tell of course. He had seen Sherry doing that awful thing to herself by the tree. And that was very bad. Mommy would really be angry with her.
Sweat poured from Gordon's face. He brought his finger covered with the wonderful stink of Sherry's ripe virgin hole up to his nose and sniffed the wonderful fragrance. He knew right then he had to have Sherry's body. He could no longer satisfy himself with warm over reveries of Vietnam. Those Chinese girls had awakened deep dark desires in him that could never be capped.
Sherry's hole was hot and moist. Ramming his finger into her slit had been sensational. Her cunt was so awfully tight, it was like fitting a soft bun around a hot dog. Each twitch of her hips had caused new sensations to churn in his gut. His cock had not gone down in half an hour and the thick shaft hurt terribly. He could go jack off, but his prick would get hard again after a few minutes and he would be right back where he was now dreaming of Sherry little cunt.
There was no way out; he was trapped. Sherry was buckling her pants and if he were to act, it would have to be in a hurry.
"Are you feeling better?" Not that he gave two shits about her health or the rash, if there had been one. But he felt forced to say something. Her bicycle was in the rack. Already darkness was setting in and he could see that there was no light on the handle bars.
His brain began whirring like a computer spitting out bits of information. How simple it would be to offer Sherry a ride home. After all, little girls should not ride bicycles at night without a headlight. It was against the law.
He took Sherry's little hand in his hand led her to the car. "I'll give you a ride home," he said.
"That would be nice," Sherry answered.
Very nice indeed.
CHAPTER FOUR
You likkee, said the giddy woman. Having fucked herself into one orgasm after another on the wooden dildo, the woman was now watching the American GI groaning under the expert stroking and licking of her two lovely daughters. It sent a thrill rushing through the Chinese woman's flesh.
No matter who won the war in Vietnam, her daughters would never lack for food or shelter. They would never grow old and jaded like the other girls who lined the streets of Saigon. Because her daughters had been taught well the art of making love. And their skills were highly prized, no matter who won the war.
Gordon could only manage a groan. The hot wet tongue glued to his asshole made him shiver all over. At the other end of that tongue was attached a beautiful young girl no older than thirteen. And she was doing this wild thing to him. As the licking increased to the fast paced rhythm, Gordon felt his cock growing hard once more.
"Oooohhhh soo goood!" he moaned. He did want to stop her from toying with his butt, but his cock was in need of servicing. Apparently the old lady was aware of his resurging manhood because she shouted a few words in Chinese and Yin crawled out of his rear.
As she moved, Gordon was over on one hip and quickly had her by the thigh. Her face was a mask of innocence, the eyes wide and shining. Never once did she look down at the enormously erect penis sticking straight out at her cunt.
Not more than six inches away was her cunt hole, no bigger than a round nickel. At first, sticking that huge fuck stick into her vagina seemed an impossibility.
But he would make it fit.. . .
It was a fifteen minute drive to Sherry's small two story house. But it was the longest fifteen minutes of Gordon's life. He stared straight ahead through the windshield in a stony silence. And his fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the knuckles popped out like little white marbles.
His mind was yo-yoing through time. The warm blanket of humidity covering the flat prairie land during the summer was stifling. He tugged at his shirt collar as his lungs heaved for oxygen. It was the intense, oppressive heat one found in the Delta during the Monsoon season when the sweat gushed from the skin like water from a sponge.
Yin and Yang, he thought. How nice they were, he thought, his hard cock stretching his underwear aching to spring free in the air. If he could have one wish in the world, it was to return to Saigon and the open arms of those two teenage nymphos. It was all right over there in the Orient. Even though the people were all fucked up with disease and filth and the streets smelled of garbage and death, at least the women were all right.
His attention snapped back to the present as Sherry stretched her arms and yawned. It was obvious that he had gone too far. After sprawling her on the bench and ordering Sherry to pull down her pants Gordon realized his mistake. He had stuck a finger into Sherry's warm little cunt! My God that would be impossible to explain away. And then following up by sticking his tongue against her slit was just insanity.
He turned down the street and passed Margaret Anson's house before coming to a stop. Sherry was bouncing up and down, happy to be home and he was glad. She acted so happy that perhaps she would forget about today.
"Let me help you with the bicycle," he said. Gingerly he stepped from the car back to where the bicycle was tied inside the trunk. It was the least he could do for Sherry considering how nice she had been to him.
Just then a red car came down the street. Gordon turned around holding the bicycle in his arms. He wasn't paying much attention to the car until it came abreast and it dawned on him Margaret Anson was behind the wheel. Quickly he tried to turn away but she drove by. Too late. He'd been seen already.
"What's the matter, Mr. Wilson," said Sherry. The smile had turned into a tight lipped frown making Sherry wonder if she had done something wrong. Mr. Wilson was all sweaty and tired looking and maybe he wanted to come inside and have a cool drink. "Would you like some lemonade?" she asked.
Gordon snapped his head around. The sudden movement caused Sherry to flinch and in that moment he saw her in a different light. Not as a nice girl needing a ride home, but as the helpless, pleading child who lay on the hard wood beacher with her pants rolled down around her knees and who let him lick and finger her luscious twat.
"Mommy won't be home for two hours," said Sherry. "But there are cookies and stuff to eat. And I don't think she'd mind."
Gordon didn't need urging. Perhaps when his tongue had begun licking her pubes and had started the journey through her vagina that he knew it would end this way. He pulled his baseball cap down tightly on his brow and hitched his shoulders. His cock, which had been hard for hours, stuck out like an arrow. The tip pointed straight at Sherry's mouth and he made no attempt to cover up his erection.
"I am a bit thirsty," he said. Already his mind was drifting again back to those days spent in the Chinese whorehouses. Except this time the squirming white bodies had Sherry's face stuck on them.
He took her hand in his and together they walked up to the house.
* * *
The living room inside Sherry Jackson's home was neat and clean. From the reproduction of famous paintings on the walls, to the magazines carefully arranged on the coffee table that squatted before the couch, it was evident that Mrs. Jackson worked hard to provide her daughter with a nice house, a place she would not be embarrassed to bring her friends to.
Sitting on the couch, holding his lemonade in his hand, Gordon regretted his decision to come inside. Sherry was an awfully nice girl. She was a virgin-he knew that-and it was not right that an old man like himself should deflower a young girl.
So he sipped his drink with some consternation: he had gone too far as it was with Sherry, but there was still time to get away. How simple it would be to put down the lemonade, says goodbye, and drive off. He was enormously horny, but Margaret was home and would be more than happy to oblige him. The trouble was, he didn't want to go.
And Sherry wasn't helping matters. like many girls her age, Sherry liked to flirt with men by wiggling her hips or jumping up and sitting in their laps. And Gordon Wilson was no ordinary man. She was drawn to him by guilt; but now another force was pulling her close. It was a power so strong that just being near him made her heart throb wildly and her knees go weak.
She didn't want him to go. And yet his lemonade was almost gone so she had to do something. And then the idea came to her all at once.
"Mr. Wilson," she said innocently, "I need some more lotion on that poison oak. My rash hurts so bad."
The hurt feeling was all gone from her behind. But it was one way to make him stay. And feeling him spread cream all over her rump felt wonderful.
Sherry jumped up on his knee and before Gordon could say anything, she was rocking back and forth straddling his thigh. She smiled as wide as her little mouth would permit and then looking down, she saw the bulge once again rising out of his crotch like a boxing glove and she asked: "What's that?"
Well, she knew damn well what it was. And Gordon made no move to stop her hand from coming down and pushing against his coiled up pecker. She wriggled when she realized that his cock was really underneath his pants and not a jock strap with a protective cup.
Gordon was breathing hard through his mouth. He made one last effort to get the hell out of the house but even as he reached for Sherry it was too late.
Instead of getting an arm, he grabbed her thigh. Surprisingly, her pants were loosely tied and with a short tug, they came away exposing her bare rump.
"Oh, darling," he gasped, stroking her flesh. "I mean, Sherry, where does it hurt."
The lotion was back inside the car, but rolling down her pants so her buns were exposed to his gazing eyes, Gordon didn't care. He knew how to heal the hurt. His fingers gently plied her flesh until goose bumps rippled across the tight, white skin of her buttocks. Then he pulled her cheeks apart and dipped his face downwards, his tongue extended like a spear.
Sherry squealed. The sensation of his tongue slipping down her butt crack was tremendous. She arched her hips backwards causing her brown butt hole to pop up against his wet, raspy tongue.
Lowering his head, he continued licking Sherry until his wetness covered her every inch of her backsides. He could tell she enjoyed his lovemaking by the way her buttocks flexed each time he went down on her.
He pulled her pants completely away and turned Sherry around on his knee. How beautiful Sherry was! he thought.
"Now Sherry you must realize that this is for your own good," he said, unloosening his pants. "Remember that."
She didn't know what Mr. Wilson was talking about, but she kept her blue eyes glued to his pants, curious to see if his cock was really that big. His fingers fidgeted with the zipper and right before her he yanked once and his cock shot out through the vent in his underwear, straight at her mouth.
"Ohhhhh!" she gasped.
At that instant while Sherry was momentarily overcome with surprise, he grabbed her face firmly and pulled downward, driving his cock through her wet, tulip shaped lips.
She squeezed against the invading shape, but much too late. Gordon was thrusting. His cock was buried in her warm mouth and he was thrusting and her little baby face was taking him all inside. The tip burst through slipping around like an eel before finding the nice warm hole at the back of her throat. Then he went in and out, even while Sherry was gagging, his dick was feeling the joys of her youth.
Sherry wanted to scream. She couldn't of course because of the sausage size prick jammed down her mouth. So instead, her finger found his scrotum and played with his nuts. This of course caused Gordon to fuck harder.
The tiny muscles in her rear, still wet from licking, started to pulsate. She tried to block out the pain by drawing her knees up to her belly, but that did no good. It was still there, a spasmic flexing of her anus that made Sherry want to turn over and have Gordon lick her again.
Please shove your tongue into my butt and make it stop hurting, she cried to herself. He wouldn't do such an awful thing, and Sherry couldn't ever ask him to. It was much too embarrassing. So she put up with the weird sensation and suddenly the pain started to travel through her spread thighs and into her long, spread slit. It stopped there, then started to glow. Sherry was warm and passionate all over. She opened her throat to the long, cushiony tube jerking back and forth through her puckered lips and sucked.
"Hmmmmm!" Gordon exclaimed. His balls were steaming as he drove his pecker obscenely into Sherry's mouth. Thin blue veins crisscrossed the surface of the wrinkled foreskin, the skin now glistening from her sweat, juices. Suddenly, he popped out of her face.
"Ohhhh, don't stop!" Sherry gasped. Her tiny fingers clutched his scrotum pulling on his testicles with nice rhythmic tugs. The hard muscled cock flickered like a cobra snake before her eyes. Instinctively, Sherry knew that sperm would come spurting out the tiny hole in the center of the bullet shaped head. But when? Urgently, she tugged some more.
I want him in me, she thought. Her cunny was hurting like hell. The tiny slit, swelled out with blood until the folds had turned crimson red, throbbed. That big thing looking back at her mouth was destined to end up inside that little slit. The more she looked, the bigger his pecker became. It wrenched her guts to see how big Mr. Wilson's cock was and it terrified the little girl imagining him rutting her hole.
Gordon was thinking the same thing: The last thing in the world he wanted to do was rape the little girl. Hell, he hadn't fucked her cunt yet. Without intercourse, the worse sentence the courts could hand down would be five years. But man, stick that wienie into her pussy and Gordon, old boy, you were facing a life sentence.
A cool breeze swept through the room sending a chill of pleasure down his cock and up his spine to his brain.
He sucked the clean air into his lungs and slowly exhaled. His mighty hands held Sherry's tiny twig like arms. She was so small and defenseless in his grasp that a twinge of compassion thrilled his heart. He looked down into those big blue eyes that stared up at him with a youthful incredulity and it was right then he knew what had to be done.
"Put your hand on it, darling," he groaned.
Obeying him, Sherry reached out with her hand and grabbed the swollen knob on the end of his fuck stick. It felt gooey from the juices of her mouth, and the rubbery head was much softer than it had seemed in her throat.
"I think you know what comes next," he said. While she jerked his pecker head, Gordon spread her legs out straight and grooved a finger into her cunt.
The ring of twat muscles gripped his finger hungrily, like a clamp closing down on a small shrimp. She was tight, and his dick was going to hurt and she might scream a few times, but he wasn't letting this obstacle deter him.
"Now move your fingers up and down the shaft," he commanded.
Sherry was hypnotized by the action of her slender hand on Gordon's thick stick. She felt his pulse pounding in the long underside of his pecker. He was nearly as excited about sex as she was. Raising the cock upward to her face, she attempted to stick the wet pecker head back into her mouth. But Gordon stopped her.
"Not there," he groaned. He pushed her hands holding his cock down towards the tiny glistening hole between her legs. "In there," he said.
Sherry didn't resist one bit as Gordon pulled her thighs up and bent forward so his cock slid down towards her cunt hole.
She didn't move when the bullet shaped prick popped through her pussy lips. Sliding gently in and out of her channel opening felt good. The delicate flesh was being reamed into a nice big hole for the rest of his prick.
Gordon, aching with desire, bent forward and kissed the inside of Sherry's ear. At the same instant, his prick tube went halfway into her channel.
Sherry's hips bucked. Waves of pain ripped through her flesh. It was like an electric switch had been thrown. She struggled to stop him, but already too late, her little cunt started to grow bigger and bigger until Gordon was all the way up to her maidenhead.
"Ooooooo!" she gasped. He was too big, but she wanted him there. His shaft poked against the flap of skin and bounced off. Then again his hips flexed and his cock surged. The fiery tip stretched her rubbery skin flap until it suddenly burst apart and his giant cock rammed into her startled channel.
"Yaaaaa!! ! " Sherry screamed. Tears flooded her eyes. The little hole between her legs felt ripped apart, as if a long, red hot poker hand been shoved up there.
She twisted one way then another, but nothing could make the evil fuck pole leave her cunt. Or stop the slow, even thrusting of Gordon's hips.
He was pumping slowly and steadily, reaming her channel walls with his pecker. And it felt good. So damn good that his sperm welled up in the wedge shaped head and all of a sudden he had to come. And come almost immediately.
Sherry was wiggling frantically. Gordon Wilson was crushing her right to the floor with his enormous body. She smelled the sweat pouring off his hairy chest and her rubbery legs were spread wide apart under his bouncing, powerful hips. His cock pumped furiously into her hole. He grunted like an animal and bit her on the ear.
Slowly Sherry started to come around. As Gordon's fingers slipped through the crack in her ass and pulled her tiny hips up against his fuck tool, using her tiny body to fuck his dick instead of the other way around, she started to move.
She was excited all right. Excited from fear, then pain and now pure pleasure. Each jab into her cunt set off another flurry of excitement. The harder Gordon Wilson fucked, the more joy she experienced.
Her head was spinning faster and faster like a merry-go-round suddenly gone out of control. Or like a top swirling off into space.
She was so lost in her own pleasure world, that Sherry didn't hear Gordon scream. She only felt his sudden flurry of hip thrusts and then the geyser of molten liquid spewing into her cunt. It was hot and sticky and it thoroughly soaked her pussy. Gordon rammed his juice into her twat and now it was spewing out the parted twat lips dribbling like a faucet on the rug.
Sherry was so happy that she was going to scream. Only another voice beat her to it.
"What the good goddamn is going on!" shouted the voice.
And Gordon Wilson groaned to himself. As his hot joy cream shot into Sherry's cunt taking his passion with it, he realized that it was all over.
He recognized that voice anywhere.
CHAPTER FIVE
Seeing the green sedan again, and the possibility of having Gordon Wilson back in the sack so soon made Margaret Anson tremble all over.
As she was driving by, Mrs. Anson noticed that her lover was pulling a bicycle out of the trunk for the Jackson girl. Oh, he'll be here any minute, she thought, barely able to control herself. The car weaved back and forth across the road as Mrs. Anson fought the steering wheel and her own pent up desires.
She managed to park in the driveway without smashing anything into bits and hurried into the house. The bedroom was a mess and quickly she straightened the sheets and blankets. It wouldn't do to greet her man with rumpled bedding. At least not to Margaret Anson's way of thinking.
While she waited, Margaret stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower. The stream of hot bath water felt sensational on her ripe, gourd shaped breasts. It felt even better when she bent over so the water could wash down her butt and warm the nice wide cunt pelt of fur covering her twat. She turned slowly underneath the torrent of water spurting from the shower head. Thick clouds of water vapor billowed in the tiny bathroom.
She was excited, terribly so and the minutes dragged by like hours as Margaret waited for Gordon to return. Stepping out of the shower and reaching for the thick thirsty towel, she rubbed her milky white skin dry, then looked into the mirror. Her hard, red colored nipples jutted out all swollen from the hot bath water.
She wiped the fog from the mirror. Her breasts were swelled up and the dull throb of pleasure was coursing through her melon sized glands and out the ends.
"Damn," she exclaimed. "Where is he anyway?"
It was not hard to draw up a mental picture of Gordon Wilson standing there in the bathroom. His broad muscular shoulders, thin waist and long protruding cock meant one thing to her: sex. One look at his obscenely large pecker was enough to turn her iron will soft as jell-o. Margaret's friends on the PTA would have been astonished to learn of their friend's rampant sexual fantasies. Margaret, to most of the public, was very quiet and reserved.
She was known as a pillar of moral rectitude in the community, a leader and upholder of decency in the school system. So to see Margaret squirming between the sheets, gingerly licking the large, purplish knob capping Gordon Wilson's pulsating cock was wild beyond belief.
As another five minutes passed, Margaret's impatience turned to anger. The bastard wasn't coming. She felt her hands fumbling for her clothes hanging on the hall tree in the bedroom. Her expectations had brought her to the peak of excitement and now nothing to show for it.
Her mind raged with jealousy. Gordon was dropping off the kid's bicycle but now she could remember tiny bits of information that at the time seemed unimportant. Why had he turned his head as when she drove by. What was he trying to hide. Perhaps, it was her jealousy that made her think the unthinkable.
But quickly dressing she had to find out. Margaret didn't know Sherry's mother very well. But if Gordon was two timing her, Margaret was not above revenge.
Margaret's pink nipples rubbed against the sheer material of her blouse and suddenly expanded to sharp points that dragged back and forth causing electricity to shoot back through her chest. The adrenaline was pumped into her muscles as she jumped into the car. Sex was a strange force, she thought. She was strong as an ox and mad enough to kill and all because she felt jilted by a man. "The bastard," she mumbled.
Margaret's temper had a short fuse. And when she saw the green car parked out front of the Jackson's house and the bicycle propped up against the picket fence, she exploded. Screeching her car to a halt, Margaret leaped from the driver's seat and charged the front door.
A thousand thoughts of betrayal coupled with the deep longing for sex made her crazy. The front door was unlocked and twisting the door knob, Margaret was inside the house, bent on revenge. She had hoped to find the two love birds caught in a rapturous embrace. Whoever this Kate Jackson woman was, she was not going to get away stealing her man.
Not knowing where to begin in the strange house, she stormed into the kitchen, then turned glancing at the living room, before planning her assault on the bedroom.
That's when she saw them hunching against the floor. Her lungs drew in a deep breath then she stopped cold in her tracks. Underneath Gordon Wilson's flexing rump was a woman all right. A compact version of what Margaret had expected to be the older Kate Jackson.
Time seemed to stand still. Margaret shouted out something, but already she realized the mistake. Because the shock of seeing Sherry hunching, her androgynous body underneath all that strength and muscle was too much.
He's fucking a child! The lewdness of the position the poor girl was in brought a lump to Margaret's throat. Her knees went slack, buckled under her weight, and Margaret collapsed to the floor unconscious.
On the floor, the up angle shot of Margaret magnified the woman's size. And when she fell, it was like a giant redwood crushing down in the forest. Only this was no tree, it was Margaret. And it didn't take a genius to figure out the trouble he was in.
His sperms had filled the virgin sleeve of Sherry's cunt and now dribbled through her slit and down the plump cheeks on her butt to the floor where a small puddle formed. It was wicked but he didn't have a worry now that it was all over. If only Sherry had worn panties to the game; if only she had not found shelter behind that tree to scratch her pubes, then this never would have happened.
He put his hands on either side of Sherry's hips and pushed himself up. His spent cock, limp as a noodle, retreated from her cunt hole, wiggling like a worm.
What am I going to do? he thought. Margaret is passed out on the floor. What is she doing here? And what about Sherry? God, I'm in the deep shit.
Sherry squirmed and raised up on one elbow. She was wet and greasy and exhausted. She had expected a lot more blood than the few drops that splattered her thighs. His cock had hurt like hell all right. It burned her flesh all the way up to her head and down again. But the fucking had been sensational. She had responded eagerly like a real mature woman once she had gotten over her fright of his erection. Now looking down at the flaccid, sperm coated pecker, she felt very strange. The cock was only half the size of the throbbing fuck rod that had pushed a path through her fiery loins. Wiggling down through his legs so her face was once again underneath his tired cock. Sherry was alarmed at Mrs. Anson's appearance, but not shocked beyond words as Gordon was. Her little mind was focused totally on the wilted cock pipe. A low grade orgasm continued to thrill the sperm coated walls of her twat. It was a feeling that was numbing and yet exciting. So looking up, Sherry watched his prick with awed fascination. She didn't have to be told what to do. She raised up, opened wide, and in went the dripping sex pipe between her lips. The knotty end slipped between her lips and filled her mouth easily. Even limp, his cock was still thick around as a bat handle and long as a Havana cigar. She sucked out the salty fluid from the end making sure to drink it down. His balls wagged back and forth while her lips tugged on his pecker and that only made sucking that much more enjoyable. She sucked and suddenly his cock stiffened up, ready for a few more thrills.
"Ohhhh, that's goooood," groaned Gordon. It was a nice feeling, a very soothing wonderful sensation really, and one which he did not want to stop.
But what was he going to do about Margaret. She was just laying on the floor, collapsed like a beached seal. He had to help Margaret. It was only right, even if she ratted on him to Sherry's mother. His pecker continued to flex, now semi-erect and growing in Sherry's licking, sucking mouth.
Margaret took that moment to groan. Tossing her head, she started moving around trying to get up. In a second, she would have recovered and he would be forced to face Margaret. It was terrible. What was this woman doing inside the house anyway?
Margaret lay like a crumpled sack of laundry. Her legs sprawled at awkward angles and her tits hung slack across her chest. The pretty, willing housewife who squatted so cheerfully on her husband's bed while he slammed home his cock was in reality, just one more jealous bitch.
A secret smile spread across his lips. Down at his groin came the slurping sounds of Sherry's mouth cleaning his fuck pipe. He was hard again, an amazing feat of strength considering he had fucked Sherry half to death. He reluctantly pulled out of her mouth and rose up on unsteady legs.
He had a plan. It was crazy perhaps, but then the whole day had been like that. And he didn't have much to lose, not anymore.
"Where are you going," asked Sherry. Her mind had been set on sucking his funny shaped tube. Maybe it might spurt in her mouth the way it had down between her legs. But that possibility was not in the cards. Because Gordon was advancing on Margaret Anson, his pecker waving like a baton.
"Get away, you pervert," snapped Margaret. "I saw you. Now leave me alone."
He circled Margaret working the knotty end of his cock with two fingers. Quite unexpectedly, he grabbed Margaret under the arms and pulled her to her feet.
"This is ridiculous," she snapped, still groggy.
"You're going off the deep end." Gordon was half listening.
Margaret wore a frilly cotton blouse that was so thin you could see her jiggling breasts underneath. Gordon gripped the garment at the collar and in one downward motion, tore the blouse off her back.
"Gordon!" she exclaimed.
But he was already at her pants, popping the waist button and tearing the fly apart. It happened so fast, that Margaret's pants were lying in a pile at her feet before she could do anything.
"Spying cunt!" he sneered. Anger pulsated through his arteries. He felt an unfathomable loathing for this woman. He was burning up, a cauldron of molten violence.
Margaret's breasts heaved up and down. She felt stupid standing virtually naked before Gordon and the girl. Her feet were trapped by her pants, and she was unable to move. If he touches me I'll kill him, her mind screamed. But she wasn't so sure now.
Suddenly his hand lashed out. Margaret shrieked when she felt her panties stretch, then ripped away from her crotch. Her knees shivered as she realized how defenseless she was. And how violent her lover had turned out to be.
"Come here," he snarled. Throwing an arm around her middle, Gordon carried Margaret into the kitchen like a sack of potatoes. On the table were piled the dirty dishes from breakfast. Here, he pushed her face down on the table so her body was bending over the table. Dishes went flying everywhere as Gordon positioned himself behind Margaret, whose flesh trembled all over.
"This is for spying," he bellowed. Raising his hand, he looked at her flawless skin, curved buttocks and then brought his open palm down on her skin with a whack.
"Yaaaaa!" Margaret screamed.
A red mark the size of his palm appeared on her butt cheek. He looked down the dark black line that split her rump cheeks and felt a knot coil in his stomach. Up came his hand again, then down hard on her butt. Again and again he walloped her behind until her buns were lobster pink and Margaret was bawling like a baby.
"Whaaaa!" she cried. Her legs kicking up and down as her plump rump, used to tickling and caressing, was now absorbing the bone jarring smack of Gordon's open hand.
Gordon merely chuckled at Margaret's plight. The girl had a lesson coming to her anyway. When he finally stopped his hand tingled from making contact with her ass and he could only guess at the feeling on her buttocks.
"Dirty bastard," Margaret cried. She clutched a butter plate and threw it behind her missing Gordon by inches. Bent over the table so her legs were barely touching the floor was a lewd, humiliating position. She hated Gordon from the bottom of her heart. Margaret felt betrayed. Having opened her heart to this man, having cheated her husband so this man could feed cock up her slot meant nothing to this bastard. He treated her like a common slut. Her breasts lay in a sea of half eaten eggs, cold coffee, and orange and broken dishes of butter and jam. It wasn't even her house!
"That was a nice throw with the butter," Gordon chuckled.
"Oh shut up," snapped Margaret. She was trapped as securely as a rat in a cage. She wasn't going anywhere. How she could ever have loved a man like him was behind her.
Gordon's chuckle turned into a belly laugh. He was looking at the nicest ass he'd seen in quite some time. The gash running through her thighs was nice, wet pussy. He straddled her legs and slipped his hard cock between her thighs and spread them wider and plunged it up her pussy.
"Aaaargh!" Margaret moaned. Despite herself, she couldn't hate his warm, hot, surging cock. The round bullet head rammed through her cheeks up into her cunt sleeve in a single movement. The hairy puckered cunt lips parted open, then slammed shut swallowing his shaft. The stimulation was sizzling. Her cunt was like an oven-and he was only halfway inside!
"You ain't bitchin' no more," Gordon said with a smirk.
Margaret replied by wiggling her loins back against his crotch.
When this is over, I'll get even, thought Margaret. No one treated her like dirt. But at this moment, she couldn't berate anyone. That cock felt like a Roman candle going off in her twat. She twitched her hips and enjoyed the feel of the fuck stick corkscrewing her cunt hole. She spread her hips, relaxing her butt muscles and concentrated on inching her cunt channel back on his fuck stick. His bristly pubic hair tickled her rump. And her wiggling hips were doing all the work, coming down on him instead of the other way around. It was like jamming a wrapper back on a wet popsicle, but feeling the throbbing shaft inside her was well worth the effort.
"Hmmmmmm," she murmured lovingly. "Do it. Fuck me now. Fuck me hard!"
Well, he was doing just that. His fuck stick was all wet and sticky from the juices flowing from her pussy. His foreskin was lubed and ready. And Margaret was one piece of ass that was hard to turn down. When she ground her hair pie against your groin and wagged those luscious hips back and forth squeezing and fondling and cajoling your cock to spurt away, well, it was hard to say no.
But that's exactly what he did. In a sudden backward movement, his dick popped out of her hole. He looked down at his glistening shaft and saw the arteries pulsating with blood. He was thoroughly lubricated, but he wanted more action than her pussy. He wanted Margaret's tight asshole surrounding his pecker and that meant lots of grease wetting the skin.
He reached for a plastic tub of raspberry jam just as Margaret started to gyrate.
"Don't stop on me, you bastard," she demanded hoarsely. "You have me. I'm yours. Now fuck me. Damn it, fuck me. Fuck my cunt!"
She closed her eyes and laid on the table waiting for his penis to fill her slot once more. What she felt was warm jam being spread around her asshole. She wondered for a minute what the hell Gordon was up to. Then his finger pushed against the sphincter muscle to drill a nice, pathway into her ass channel. And then she knew what Gordon was up to.
"Ahhh!" she screamed.
Gordon didn't wait for her to finish, but plowed a furrow through her cheeks. Her butt fought back, but even her tight asshole was no match for his jam coated penis. The muscle opened up and his long hot torpedo slid nicely into her rump.
"Ghhhhaaa!" she cried. Her eyes were closed as streaks of pain and pleasure flashed like sparklers on a moonless night against the sky. Her hips erupted sending her belly banging on the table top. She felt his cock surging in and out, throbbing like a thumb smashed by a hammer, and she cried.
Tears dribbled from her eyes and down her face. His thundering cock went in and out. Sweat mingled with her tears. Her whole backside was being forced and pushed around like a toy sailboat on rough seas. She was thoroughly humiliated. Every muscle in her body cried out for help. And there was none coming. His dick grew bigger and bigger. How her virgin butt could take so much cock with so little effort was beyond comprehension. He was such a bastard! Her hands balled into fists which she beat on the table like a spoiled child.
Gordon of course didn't give two shits. His dick was swelled out to cannon size ready to explode. The woman's shrieking was lost on his ears. Her resistance had melted away like the raspberry jam used to lubricate her butt hole. She was soft and pliable, ready to be molded to his needs.
His pecker went in. It slid in like a telephone post going into a greased hole in the ground. He was ready to come. But suddenly he got an idea.
"Sherry," he shouted to the little girl on the floor. "Get the hell over here. Right now!"
And she did.
CHAPTER SIX
Sherry was terribly sore between her legs. When she rose to her knees, a span of pain roared up through the tiny black slit that formed her twat and she had to sit down fast.
Watching Gordon through the doorway as he forced his way into Margaret made the little girl feel queasy at the pit of her stomach. She was too young to know what Gordon was doing. But Margaret wasn't enjoying it. Even though she tingled all over her skinny body just watching Gordon.
"Damn you child," he bellowed. "Move it."
Obediently, she rose and ignoring the soreness, waddled over to the breakfast table. Sherry saw the broken dishes and the over turned butter and eggs on the table and knew her mother would raise hell.
Margaret turned her tortured face to the side and stared at naked Sherry. What once had been envy was turned into pleasure. She had gotten used to the hard flesh rod zipping back and forth in her rear hole, tantalizing her. It felt good. Better than good; it was fantastic!
"More," she groaned. "Give me more, darling. Stick it up my asshole. Stick it! Stick it in hard!"
She didn't know what she was saying because his round cock was spiking her hole and making the puckered flesh scream with pleasure. She looked at Sherry with those big eyes of hers and her breasts started to burn. She wanted to hug the child like a mother. As the prick shaft stuck her butt, Margaret was wild to cuddle Sherry in her arms and let the girl suckle her swollen nipples.
Sherry didn't know what Gordon wanted from her. He looked pretty busy fucking Mrs. Anson. Maybe she was supposed to watch and learn something. Certainly, she could pick up a few pointers. Because playing with yourself and getting laid once didn't really turn a woman into a lovemaking expert.
"Come here, darling," Gordon groaned. His swollen balls were pumping up and down in his swollen scrotum. He was holding back his juice because ass fucking Margaret was a dream come true and he didn't want to stop just yet. He was riding the crest of an enormous wave; a giant wall of pleasure that was going to come crashing down any second.
"On your knees," he moaned.
Sherry quickly did as she was told. The pain in her snatch disappeared. As he motioned towards his leg, Sherry crawled underneath the inverted V of his legs. She saw his stout shaft jamming Margaret's spread butt cheeks. It didn't seem possible that a man could put his prick in that tiny hole. But Mrs. Anson was screaming out for him to fuck her asshole so, that's where he had to be. She felt spasms of pain in her butt, and wondered if Gordon was going to fuck her back in her butt too.
"Hurry and suck," he groaned. Gordon tried to order Sherry, but he was panting too hard to get the words out. There were just a few precious seconds until his raw dick shot sperm into Margaret's reamed out asshole. Just a few seconds until it happened and he wanted Sherry's lovely mouth sucking him, but he couldn't talk. Weakly he pointed down to his groin.
Sherry sat down on her heels looking up. Behind his pistoning cock hung the bloated scrotum. It looked like a miniature punching bag. It was covered with a forest of hair, hair that was now wet from fucking.
She reached up and touched his manhood. His balls jumped a mile.
"Ooooh, yes, darling," he said. "With your mouth."
Then she understood. She opened her jaws until the muscles ached and rose up towards his balls. The smell of sex hung like a miasma between his legs. She found it difficult to breathe, yet on the little girl went until her mouth touched him.
He was warm and hairy and sweaty. His balls were so big, she thought he might explode all over her mouth. Out came her tongue to lick his nuts. The tip barely touched his scrotum. Yet Gordon was screaming for her to lick him clean. He shouted wildly scaring the diffident girl who was amazed that a man's balls could get so big.
"Ah! Ah!! " he moaned. Then frantically, he jammed her face against his crotch and her mouth opened magically. He felt her hot breath surrounding him, then her lips sealed tightly around the top of his wrinkled pouch and he laughed wildly. His balls were now swishing inside the 13 year old's juicy mouth while his pecker made mush out of Margaret's asshole.
At the same instant Margaret's ass channel was contracting around the pecker stuck so defiantly inside it's tortured walls. Margaret was so surprised she couldn't talk. Her butt was like a second pussy squeezing and jerking on Gordon's cock, and it felt good as the muscle constrictions brought joy to her body.
"Yaaaaaahoooo!"' she shouted out. Her hips were swaying back and forth, banging the table edge. He was thrusting forward, matching her stroke for stroke as his balls were so gently sucked by Sherry's mouth.
Sperm shot out of his scrotum and through the long stem of his cock. It welled for an instant in the tip, swelling out until his thrusting prick came to a sudden halt in her sweltering asshole and then the long white strands of sperm shot into her hole.
"Fucking A," he laughed. He jerked his hips, yahooing like a cowboy on a three day binge. Down below, Sherry mouth came down on his deflating sack. She watched the cannon sized cock go into Margaret's asshole, then froze for an instant. Suddenly Margaret was short stroking his cock. She used her hips like pistons to take inside.
Sperm shot back through her butt and coated the inside of Margaret's ass cheeks. Sherry's mouth remained glued to the swollen balls rumbling on her tongue. With each thrust, her face was brought closer to the splayed cheeks of Margaret's butt. Sherry could smell the hot and heavy sex. Without realizing it her hand crept down to her crotch where a finger was creating a silent joy between her pussy folds.
Suddenly, sperm spurted on Sherry's nose. At the same instant, Gordon drove his dick home taking Sherry's face with it "Hot damn," he yelled. Sherry's face was stuck in Margaret's rump, but Gordon didn't care. His dick was spurting juice like a fire hose. His sperm was going up her asshole and out her tonsils, or so it felt. He groaned and fell forward on Margaret's back.
Sherry was over come. Her nose was crammed right against Gordon's pecker and Margaret's rump and she almost suffocated. Her little Angers stuck in her slot and as she pulled her mouth away from the deflated scrotum, leaving Gordon's nuts to droop down, heavy with exhaustion.
For what seemed an eternity, the threesome lay collapsed in the kitchen. They made a panting sound like dogs after a fight. Or a football team after a hard, summer practice. The exhaustion came from a source deeper than physical fatigue. It was that level of exhaustion that borders on bliss, when the soul breaks free of the body and hovers like a ghost in the air.
Margaret Anson was a mess. She sat dumbly on the floor, her back against the table leg and her thighs spread out wide in a V shape. The sporran of black pubic hair glistened and sweat trickled down her chest and belly. The fiery pain in her asshole was gone. She could still feel the sperm inside her rectum squishing around taking it's own sweet time to trickle out her butt. Flexing her rump helped. But Margaret would be feeling Gordon Wilson's seed for quite some time.
The bastard, she gasped. She was thoroughly humiliated. He had striped her and treated her willing flesh cheaply. She felt like an animal that had been auctioned off; cattle that Gordon could knead, and play with and fuck when and if he wanted to. He's crazy, she thought looking his way quickly. He raped your asshole! Striped you and raped you and treated you like dirt.
Sherry was sitting next to Margaret wondering what mommy would say. There were broken plates to explain not to mention the mess in the living room. She breathed deeply through her mouth and raising a tiny hand to her cheek, she felt the crusty white fluid that had dried on her skin. It was the juice that had shot out of Margaret Anson's butt and had splattered her face. She had to get up right away and wash her face clean. Sherry rose unsteadily and halfway up, her legs gave out.
A pair of hands held her steady, and gaining her balance she finally stood.
"Let me help you to the bathroom," said Gordon as if reading her mind.
It was the very least he could do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He escorted the little girl into the bedroom, exhausted from his labors, feeling more than a little guilty. He had literally fucked himself into a corner. The girl was bound to talk. How could one expect a thirteen year old to be laid by the baseball coach then watch him corn hole the neighbor's wife and not say anything.
He filled the tub with hot water and as the steamy vapor clouded the air, he wondered what lay in store for him. What was going through Sherry's mind right that moment as he picked her up under the arms and dropped her into the water? More importantly, what would Kate Jackson, the girl's mother think? It made him queasy to think of such dreadful things. Especially when his strength was returning to his muscles and he was feeling vibrant again.
He looked at Sherry and smiled. She was really a jewel. Her cherubic smile made him feel excited. Her flawlessly white skin was turning salmon pink from the hot water.
"Is it too hot?" he asked.
Sherry giggled. The water was so hot she could hardly stand sitting in the porcelain tub. The heat made her feet tingle. It was a sensation that spread quickly through her flesh until her whole body felt the water's warm glow. She turned and looked at the enormous hose hanging down from Gordon's crotch. It looked much tamer soft than hard. Sliding forward, her cheeks squeaked against the tub bottom. She yelped because the water's heat thrilled her again. It was like sticking her finger into an electric socket.
"Sorry to break in," said Margaret Anson. "But I just had to pee."
She sauntered over to the commode and ungracefully squatted on the pot. There was no hiding the contempt she felt for the little girl. Sharing Gordon with another woman was bad enough. But taking back seat to a little girl made her mad. She squirmed on the seat, her eyes sparkling with evil as the urine swished into the bowl.
"Want me to join you, Sherry?"
Gordon shot her a disquieting look. That only infuriated Margaret. That cheap little bitch is going to get hers, Margaret thought.
"I'll wash you," Margaret said. "I'll wash you like you have never been washed before."
"Now . . . Margaret. . . take it easy."
It was Gordon's voice. He turned away from the tub and approached Margaret. For a moment there was just the sound of Sherry splashing in the tub and Margaret's pee splashing in the cistern. As he came closer Margaret watched his pecker swinging side to side and wondered if it were possible for a man to have three erections in so short a time.
He had a funny grin on his face and a strange look that both intimidated and electrified her. Quickly she tried to finish peeing. Because she had this feeling that Gordon was going to stick his big old finger up her cunt. Or do something equally delightful to her crotch. And it made Margaret shiver all over.
Gordon had a few things in mind. But nothing like dear, shrewish Margaret had in mind.
"Come here," he said hoarsely.
Suddenly Margaret was suspended in air. It happened so fast that she had no time at all to scream. Gordon's hands scooped up her thighs and quickly wrapped her legs around his chest. His strength was overpowering. And she hadn't stopped peeing. Her stream of bright yellow water was jetting out her urethra and hitting him square in the chest.
"Gordon!"
Her pee wet his skin and bounced back on her crotch and thighs and streamed down the hard muscles of his abdomen before dripping down his legs and onto the floor.
He only laughed at her embarrassment and gripped her closer. The woman shivered with a sort of strange delight. He was new at this sort of fun himself. But once he had watched an Australian girl pee on her friend and the reaction had been fantastic.
"Ooooo nooooo!! ! " Margaret was miserable. She was embarrassed to tears. She felt like a little girl who hadn't been toilet trained. And there was nothing she could do to stop the stream of pee. Again Gordon had turned on her and found a way to humiliate her.
"This is how you treat me," she stormed. "I'm not good enough to fuck in bed like a normal woman. Not any more. Ever since you found this jailbait to play nookie with."
"Easy, Margaret," he said. The pee rinsed away his guilt. He held her firmly holding up her rump cheeks with his hands. His cock was flickering back to life and he could ass fuck Margaret again. Or use her cunt. But there were other things to experiment with.
"You make me sick," Margaret snapped. "Yank me off the potty. Use my butt like a cunt. Nothing is beyond your grasp is it?"
His answer came suddenly. Margaret was going down as quickly as she had come up. Her butt cheeks squatted down on the toilet with a plopping of flesh. The pee was still trickling out of her twat. like a garden hose spraying flowers. Finally she stopped.
Gordon was still standing there, his pecker swollen out. She looked up. Her fury had burnt out. She felt even worse now. Because Gordon would never take her back. Unable to control her emotions, Margaret started to cry. It was all her fault that Gordon had left her for this little girl splashing water in the tub. If she had treated him right, this infatuation would never have happened. She wanted a second chance, oh, she wanted that desperately. But that was too much to ask. He would never give up this Sherry girl and she felt horrible. Margaret wanted to crawl into a ball and die.
Gordon waited patiently for the crying jag to stop. His cock was thick and gnarled. It was slippery with juices. The light in the room glinted off the massive meat as he held his shaft out with two fingers.
"Margaret," he said, his voice almost a whisper.
She was crying into her hands and he whispered her name again. His voice was hoarse, the excitement hiding just behind the hoarseness. Suddenly her head rose out of her hands. Her crying stopped. And now she was facing him, her tear stained face, solemn and restrained. She wanted redemption. A second chance. It was so easy to read in the earnest look in her eyes and the partially split lips.
"Here, honey."
Pee shot out the end of his gnarled cock and splashed against her face. Her head snapped back from the explosion of urine. She almost came off the toilet seat.
"Open your mouth," he shouted. It was crazy and wild and Gordon found himself laughing. The pee shot in a steady stream all over Margaret's face, coating her puffed, startled lips the way his cock had spermed her ass. He gripped his shaft with a full finger grip and began working his way back and forth across her body using his peeing cock like a painter might use a brush.
"Aaaahhhhh!" Margaret shouted.
She twisted away but not before she tasted his briny urine inside her mouth. It was awful, overwhelming; she felt repulsed and vaguely drawn to this unorthodox sex just as she had to sucking cock. It seemed anything to do with sex motivated Margaret.
Quickly now, for his bladder was nearly deflated, Gordon lowered his aim and sprayed her tits. He carefully washed her nipples and then went lower until he was peeing on her gleaming twat.
"Yessss!" he gasped.
Margaret squeezed her thighs together and waited for him to finish before licking his pecker clean. His dong was soft as putty and licking the end brought a laugh to Gordon's lips.
"Satisfied," Margaret laughed. She hadn't lost him after all. Rising from the pot, she felt again back in his graces. Margaret turned from him to the bath tub where a startled Sherry Jackson had watched the two grown ups.
"Move over, Sherry," she said. "I'm coming in with you."
She climbed in facing Sherry and slowly sank down into the steamy water. Lying back she scrunched down so Sherry's thighs draped over her and their rumps pressed against each other. Back in the house, Margaret kept a plastic dildo in the top drawer of the dresser. And pressed against Sherry as she was now, made Margaret wonder how the little tyke would react with that artificial cock jammed into her twat.
Well, there's more than enough time to find out. She looked up at Sherry and placed a motherly arm around her neck.
"We're going to become great friends," Margaret confided. "Just the three of us."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Just the three of them. It was a joyous group that met clandestinely in Sherry's house to explore the most fiendish sort of sex play.
Sherry was very grown up for her age. But one could only expect so much from a thirteen year old. At a tender age when girls still played with dolls, Sherry had the real thing. She was learning first hand all about life from a man who had been taught the more exotic forms of sexuality from a Chinese whore and then had invented a few forms of his own.
Sherry was also the willing pupil of Margaret Anson, a woman who was infatuated with Gordon and secretly jealous of Sherry. It was the first time that she had experienced jealousy. Her life had been one big success story: high school cheerleader, college beauty queen, successful fashion model-all positions Margaret had filled so capably. Now a teenage brat-a friend of her own daughter yet-was stealing the attention of the man she loved. It was an unsettling experience, one that made Margaret mad.
She vowed secretly to get even.
Gordon Wilson was supremely confident with the two females. Inside Sherry's house, he locked the doors and drew the window shades. He walked about the living room, striped naked, ordering the girls to go into one sexual position after another. He was arrogant and commanding in his manner. And he resembled the lion tamer at the circus in the way he snapped commands.
But beneath this veneer of authority was another Gordon Wilson. He was so overwhelmed and frightened by what he'd done to Sherry that he needed sleeping pills at night to stop the nightmares. He knew it was all his fault. From the moment he had caught her masturbating at the little league game, he realized his mistake. If he had scolded Sherry, then that would have been the end of it.
But he didn't. Thrilled by his encounter, Gordon had ended up playing with her butt and little sex slit until she had become a regular little nymphomaniac.
That was terrible. But Margaret was thrown into the mess. Now there was the two girls. And while Sherry was perfectly content, Margaret was something else. Gordon was no genius. But he didn't exactly need a map to get around the city. He knew a few things. And Margaret's jealousy was so evident and so potentially dangerous that Gordon decided to stop it once and for all.
"Come here, Sherry," he said. "And bring the vaseline."
Margaret was standing nude by the bookcase smoking a cigarette. She was more beautiful than ever. Her shoulders sloped down, giving a fuller dimension to her satiny smooth breasts. Her belly was flat and the muscles were pinched at the waist before curving out into her firm, sensuous thighs. The small triangle of pubic hair hid the red gash of her twat. Her nipples were swollen to thumb size. And there was no hiding the desire that sputtered beneath that haughty, sullen exterior.
Sherry quickly returned with the vaseline. She was equally beautiful though in a different way. Her breasts could not compete with Margaret's. But there was an innocence about Sherry, a open eye wonderment that inflamed Gordon passion. Perhaps, because this wonderment was a fleeting beauty that sputtered to life briefly in childhood only to-be extinguished forever by puberty. Gordon didn't push the reasons behind his obsession.
He wanted to fuck this little girl. He was honest enough to admit the truth to himself. That was all that mattered to him. Not good or bad or anything else. He wiggled his fuck stick into her tunnel and stirred it around and love the way it clasped his cock.
"Why does Sherry always come first," snapped Margaret. She was peeved. She was more demanding and selfish than any child.
As Gordon opened the vaseline jar, he looked up at Margaret's angry face and smiled. With two fingers he dug out a thick batch of goo and gently worked the viscous substance into the folds of her cunt. He had fucked that tiny hole many times and how amazing it was that her cunt was still tight and firm. Her pussy clamped against his finger.
"Hmmmmmm!" she giggled.
She always moaned or groaned when her cunt was being fingered. The voice was high and squeaky and when he penetrated those tight lips of her slit, the pitch jumped an octave. Damn, how nice she was.
He wanted to slide into her soppy, tight hole right up to his balls. His dick inflated out like a hot dog. He wanted to fuck the shit out of her. He wanted to jab his prick up her cunt until the circumcised head lodged in her throat and shot sperm through her nostrils.
When she was greasy with vaseline he finished. Her crotch was a smear of glistening transparent film. As he picked her up, licking her nipples gently until his tongue coated them with spit and made the ends tighten and throb.
Margaret watched, the anger boiling up, ready to explode. She watched Sherry begin to squat down on Gordon's prone body. She wanted to vomit. Never had one woman hated another so fully as Margaret hated Sherry. The filthy tramp, thought Margaret. She couldn't wait to get her hands on Sherry's ripe, skinny body. Margaret smiled. She'd make the little bitch bend over then ram a branding rod up her asshole!
But right that instant, Margaret could only watch helplessly as Sherry's tight twat inched down closer to Gordon's straight up erection.
Slowly she came closer until his cigar shaped cock touched her pussy. Sherry closed her eyes and tightened her lips. Lower she came. The head slipped in, pushing the fleshy pussy lips aside as he penetrated. Suddenly Gordon's hands were up holding the child's buttocks firmly.
"Squat," he commanded.
Sherry did as she was told. She bit her lip until a droplet of blood popped from the skin. Tears suffused her eyes. He was penetrating, oh, he was inside her. Inch by inch her cunt sleeve opened up to his cock. Warm, wet flesh, pink with blood, tense with excitement gripped his penis. She squirmed around the rigid rod forcing the contraction to hurry up. She was almost there. With Gordon's encouragement, she went the last few inches until finally he was inside completely.
"That's a good little girl," he said. Expertly he cupped her rump cheeks in his hands and once again guiding her up and down on his fuck pole. The vaseline made a popping sound as Sherry rose and fell. She looked.
Her scrawny body going up and down, coupled with the sounds of grease and flesh making contact with each other was a strange sight: Sherry looked like she was riding a teeter totter, except of course for the fleshy spike driven into her cunt sleeve.
Gordon bent his head. He was panting hard. His back arched like a bow. He wanted to suck Sherry's tits. Those pudgy knobs held his fascination. If he could only suck the soft flesh and tease those swollen red ends, then everything would be all right. But he couldn't reach her, and Gordon had to deny himself. Besides, the fucking was much too nice. And Sherry thought so too!
"Oh, oh, oh, ahhhhh!" she gasped. Her voice was halfway between a giggle and a scream. Sherry was still learning what an orgasm was. Excitement for little girls rarely went beyond ice cream cones, and birthday presents and perhaps a wild ride on a roller coaster. The thrill of sex was different, unexplainable. She wasn't aware of her giggling. Her cunt juices were oozing down on his fuck pole making him slick and slippery. She was pumping her thighs, making her hips go like pistons. It was beautiful to watch; motion set to poetry.
It was except for Margaret. She was so hot to fuck that her cunt itched terribly. The pain had begun between the cheeks of her butt and spread like wild fire to her twat.
She dipped two fingers into her fur pie and scratched. The hair was all saturated with her lubricants. Margaret rubbed with both hands. She watched desperately as Gordon's swollen red cock disappeared into Sherry's twat. Even across the room, she could see the lacing of blue veins bulging through the foreskin. As he impaled the teeny bopper with his prick, Margaret started masturbating in earnest. Her nails dug into the tiny clit button hidden away under the labia. The flicking nails caused sparks to erupt suddenly. She grunted once, then squatted down, driving her nails in again and again against the sensitive skin. "Ah! Ohhhhh! Ya!! " she shouted.
"Look at that!" Gordon exclaimed. Sherry's butt came up and down with jack hammer force. The sperm was swelling in his balls. There was no denying his desire to shoot his load into her ripe, little cunny. But Margaret was jacking off and that was wonderful to watch. And to taste too!
Margaret could get even with Gordon. All she had to do was stand there and masturbate. But as her fingers strained her cunt hole to the point of no return, she couldn't resist him. She knew what Gordon had in mind. That tongue could work wonders on her pubes.
So she waddled over, her fingers continuing to zing pleasure up her twat, and then in position, Margaret squatted down over his face.
She first felt his tongue go into her snatch. It was good and warm and raspy like a wood file against her cunny. She wanted to scream. But there was another treat in store for her. Because she felt something squirming in her rectum.
"Oooooohh!" she said. She was so startled that she knelt rock still above his face. Sherry was going crazy at the other end, using her cunt as a soft glove to jerk off his pecker. Margaret was up at his face. And she had a hard, stiff pecker rammed up her hole-her asshole! "What did you do dear!" she asked.
"I put a finger in too," he grinned.
Wiggling her fanny, Margaret discovered he was right. "That's awful," she said impishly. "Nice men don't do that."
But Gordon wasn't a nice man. He was a horny man. A very horny man and his pecker was about to explode inside the channel of a thirteen year-old tramp. And Margaret didn't have the time to sit back and enjoy his finger doing that awful thing to her butt. Because when Gordon shot his load, he wasn't going to feel like playing games with Margaret.
Damn that brat, snorted Margaret. She rubbed her ripe red slit back and forth on the outstretched tongue, twisting around so the tongue acted like a poker.
With a finger gliding into her butt hole and the nice soft tongue jabbing her cunt, Margaret was in a state of bliss. She hunched so both fuck tools reamed her guts. The anger dissipated for the time being. She could even watch Sherry cavorting on Gordon's cock without going into hysterics. Suddenly the inflamed prick erupted and the poor little girl nearly shot off like a cork out of a pressurized bottle. Thick long tendrils of sperm sprayed back through the tiny pocket of her cunt and slid down his dick. Margaret gasped. For at that second, his finger was joined to her backsides. Margaret watched helplessly as Gordon's body went into contractions. The long slender muscles of his belly tightened into knots as his hips drove the long, spurting cock into Sherry's cunt.
It was violent and raw. The little girl was thrown around like a fishing bobber on turbulent seas. She was wiggling and squirming and her tiny cunt was shuddering as jolt after jolt of passion struck home. The girl's eyes were snapped shut and Margaret's eyes were glued to her pouty, inflamed nipples that jiggled like jell-o. She felt a deep throbbing in her own breasts. She wanted to reach across and lick Sherry's nipples and make her feel the excitement that only one woman can give another. But she didn't because her rectum clamped down hard on Gordon's finger. It took only a second. But Gordon's finger drove into her gaping asshole with such force that it revitalized her frantic need to be fucked. Even if it was her asshole and not her cunt that was being fucked.
"Ohmigod!" Margaret screamed in surprise. She was impaled on the end of his finger spear. She humped up and down and drove the finger against her tender flesh. Her butt hole tried sucking on the finger like two big lips. Then something triggered her cunt hole and Margaret was in the throes of her very own orgasm.
"Aaaahhhhh!! ! " she gasped. Grinding down hard and harder, she took in his plunging digit. That the hot splatter of come was not going to pour into her asshole, did not deter Margaret. She bent over Gordon's belly and found Sherry's nipples with her mouth. The two wet lips found the hard, red buttons of flesh. Her tongue lashed out teasing the flesh, while her teeth tenderly clamped down on the jutting ends. Held firmly now, she licked and sucked on Sherry's breast riding out each wonderful spasm of pleasure surging up her asshole with a faster, wilder breast sucking.
Sherry screamed again. Her tiny cunt was coming again and again and now even her tits were on fire. The thick juice, thick as hot latex lined her pussy. She felt burned out inside even as she climaxed frantically with her convulsing lover.
"I don't ever want to stop," she cried. "Not ever."
And if Gordon and Margaret had their way, she wouldn't.
CHAPTER NINE
Margaret's heart was beating like mad by the time she got to Sherry's house. And it wasn't from walking fast either. She felt guilty about what she was going to do to Sherry. But Margaret didn't have any choice.
Margaret was dressed casually and she carried a small grocery bag. To a passerby, she looked like just one more suburban housewife on her way to visit a friend. Or perhaps bearing a gift.
But Margaret was hardly the average housewife. For one thing, her cunt had been continually wet since meeting Gordon. A second did not go by when she did not think of his massive cock plowing into her portholes.
But recently, her daydreams had taken on a different configuration. Sherry had entered the picture. And though Margaret had learned to tolerate Sherry, sex was still not the same thing it used to be. She was jealous of the younger woman. Jealous and scared. Because Gordon was paying a lot more attention to the teenie bopper than to her.
Margaret decided to take action into her own hands.
Standing outside the ramshackle two story house, balling her fists to ease the tension that racked her body, Margaret had misgivings. She had a right to be upset. But after all Sherry was only a child. It was one thing to punish Sherry for encroaching on her territory. Her man. But what Margaret had in mind was . . . well, drastic.
Maybe Sherry isn't home, Margaret thought. Then the door opened, and then the small blonde-haired girl appeared, her familiar, angelic face beaming incandescently back at Margaret. And she laughed to herself. Because Margaret realized she was capable of everything.
"Did you want some coffee, Mrs. Jackson?" Sherry asked. It was a surprise seeing her so early. Sherry half expected Gordon and her heart was still pounding like a hammer inside her chest. Now the excitement had turned to fear.
Mrs. Jackson was a big woman and without Gordon there to protect her, Sherry felt weak and helpless. And Mrs. Jackson was not the friendly type. Her tiny breast still ached from Margaret's mouth. A small red splotch had appeared around the nipple and didn't go away for several days.
Since Gordon had stuck his big cock into her tiny hole and made her a woman, Sherry was not the same little girl. And Margaret was not the nice, neighborly woman she had been. Perhaps Margaret was jealous of sharing Gordon. But that was silly because Sherry didn't mind sharing him with another woman. She didn't mind in the least bit.
Out in the kitchen, Sherry rinsed out a coffee mug and dumped in a heaping spoonful of instant coffee while the water came to a boil. Steam swirled up as the dark powder turned black as ebony wood when the water was added.
When she took the steaming mug into the living room though, Sherry had a surprise coming.
"Put the mug down on the table, Sherry," Margaret said, her voice was harsh and grating. And her eyes stared down like burning coals.
They looked at each other and Sherry felt a curious weakness in her crotch. The tiny blonde hairs, just beginning to darken on her twat tingled. She was all wet and loose all of a sudden and if Margaret had been Gordon, there was no doubt that he could have stuck his big, hairy thing up her crack with ease.
"Are you frightened of me?" asked Margaret. In the girl's absence Margaret had locked all the doors and drawn the shades in the living room. Not that this precaution was necessary. The girl was half in shock. She was not going to run anywhere on those quivering, rubbery legs.
Margaret stared at her and the blood rose in her face. She was suddenly nervous as a virgin going to a drive-in movie. She wasn't deceiving herself anymore. Margaret wasn't to violate the girl. If she had been blessed with a cock at birth, Margaret would have bent that quivering, pitiful blonde tramp over and rammed her dick between those lovely, sweet cheeks and up her asshole. That's what she wanted more than anything else in the world.
Margaret didn't have a cock.
And then again she did in a way.
She smiled at Sherry, the spider to the fly, and walked up close so her crotch pressed against Sherry's breasts. With little movement, she could unzip her fly and push the girl's face into her crotch cunt.
Margaret's pelt was wet and drippy all over from the sexual excitement tingling in her loins. Sherry's mouth would feel fantastic down there licking and sucking. How pleasant it would be, to have her groveling like a common whore. Her tongue darting into her red rimmed slit. How nice! And it would be free too!
"Gordon is coming soon," said Sherry weakly. It was a mistake and one she regreted the minute the words tumbled from her lips.
"It's a hot day," Margaret began. "Why don't you take off your . . . dress!"
Sherry shook her head in disbelief. Suddenly her nipples were pulsating and her breathing labored.
"But. . . why would," she stammered.
Margaret felt testy. "Do as your told," she snapped. "Get those clothes the hell off. All except your panties."
Quickly Sherry's hands found the buttons to her school top and in several quick movements, her clothes lay at her feet. A cool gust of air sent her warm, wet skin tingling with goose bumps. They dimpled her belly, spreading quickly until her abdomen was covered. It was embarrassing for Sherry and she crossed her arms awkwardly in front of her breasts.
"Don't hide yourself," Margaret snapped. The uneasy smile crossing her lips drew tight as the muscles bunched on either side of her jaw. "Be a woman," she snapped. "Don't play school girl with me."
Instinct told Sherry to get out of the house, even if it meant running outside without her clothes. Margaret was acting very strange. Her drawn lips trembled as she lowered her gaze. It was as if Sherry had ceased to be a human being. When Margaret advanced closer, her lips were only inches away, Sherry shuddered. Quickly she turned her head away from Margaret's eyes, away from breasts heaving under her blouse.
"Don't be afraid," Margaret whispered. Already she was reaching for the zippers and snaps that held her clothes so tightly against her supremely shaped body. Margaret was breathing heavily, almost panting. She was capable of anything. She was a gifted, finely educated player in the game of love. She experienced the joy of penetration both in the cunt, mouth and rectum and was expert at using herself. She was an instrument of love, a wonderfully complicated organism capable of the most complicated of sexual intrigues. And now, with Sherry present she was going to indulge her sensibilities.
"Do not be afraid," she announced once more.
"Oh, Margaret," Sherry sputtered. "I mean Mrs. Anson. Don't you think we should wait for Gordon?"
She looked around frantically. Anything to avoid Margaret's hypnotic stare. "I could do the dishes."
She turned quickly for the sink, but a strong, powerful hand touched her shoulder. The palm was moist with sweat and very, very warm. It sent another shower of goose bumps rippling like wheat before the wind across her slender buttocks.
Margaret, sensing the time was right, stepped close to Sherry, thrusting as she moved, so her loins rubbed up against the girl's small twat.
"Gordon will be coming shortly," she answered. Gently she pulled Sherry around forcing the teenage girl to stare into her eyes.
Suddenly, she bent forward and pressed her drawn lips against Sherry's neck. She kissed hard and firm using lips, tongue and teeth to suck on the straining flesh.
Oh, she was good! Margaret could hardly believe her good fortune. She was overcome with passion. Her heart pounded swelling her chest with the deep rapturous stirring of joy. Her hard nipples pressed against Sherry's pudgy undeveloped tits. Her bush was stuck against Sherry's crack; they were connected these two women at the cunt, tits and face. It was a powerful embrace for both of them and when Margaret's lips left Sherry's neck it was with a great sucking sound.
"I must show you something," Margaret said. Her pendant breasts heaved. She turned the curious child around then stooped for her burlap purse on the floor.
Sherry tenderly rubbed the red weal forming on her neck and wondered how she could get away. True, her nipples pulsated, the stirring of hot, red blood gorging the pink areolas. But what did Margaret desire from her. She was confused. Her puny cunt was no match for Gordon's trunk-like penis. It didn't even have hair covering the slit opening. She squirmed nervously while Margaret, muttering to herself, reached into her purse.
"Where the fuck is . . . " she said.
In the few moments that transpired, Sherry could have made a break for it. That she did not was her own fault. Perhaps, she did not want to leave. Curiosity tugged. She was so confused by Margaret. By the way her own body responded to stimulation. By the fact that she was just thirteen years old and knew so very little about the world.
With knowledge comes pain. An old aphorism learned in school came back to her. Wisdom is not given, it is learned. And learned painfully. Perhaps, it was the quest for wisdom, the seeking out of the unknown that kept Sherry in the house while Margaret went about looking for whatever it was in the purse.
"At last," Margaret said, rising up. She turned around to Sherry, her drawn face now beaming with a devilish smile. Her breasts were the color of a lobster, the ends now glowing like coals. Her eyes once again made the forbidden journey from Sherry's down Sherry's scrawny body. The pudgy breasts, the thin hips, the soft, hairless cunt-all were examined carefully by eyes as sharp for detail as any diamond cutter's.
Sherry found her gaze painful and looked away. The white, cylindrical object caught her eye. It rose from Margaret's clutching hand like a tent stake except much thicker and longer. Around the grip, the baton had ridges for secure holding. At the tip, however, the surface was smooth and white. like a whale's tooth she had once seen in a museum.
"What is that," Sherry asked.
The question was met with a sudden, ferocious outburst of laughter. Margaret's body jerked violently, her mouth gapping now, a huge black void cut into the middle of her distorted face.
"I forget, darling, that you know nothing," she said.
"Are you going to . . . hit me?" Sherry asked.
The older woman only smiled this time. It was going to be more fun than first expected. She tightened her grip on the plastic dildo. It was hard and firm. The best dildo money could buy. She rolled the handle, feeling her cunt suddenly spasm. A Japanese salesman, an old friend of her husband had brought the dildo over from Tokyo. She had made some passing remark about Oriental sex devices and was surprised that he had remembered her. She wasn't too keen on the Jap anyway; his lovemaking technique was quite formal, almost ritualistic, and unsatisfactory. His foreplay was brief and unconvincing and the penetration itself was entirely too short. He had been hardly worth her time, especially since there were so many red blooded, macho Americans who could satisfy her wants.
But he did have the dildo. And if his lovemaking was not up to snuff, the mechanical prick more than fit the bill. He showed her where the batteries went, and how to work the tip into her cunt, so the juices flowed all around the conical shaped tip. Juices that would aid in penetration.
His instructions bordered on the obsessive especially the fittings. He made Margaret squat down while he penetrated her cunt and then slowly rise up taking ten deep breaths before turning on the dildo. She was about to tell the slimy Jap to stick his fucking plastic cock up his own hole when he reached between her legs and hit the switch. Immediately, her whole body was turned to the consistency of butter. Electricity zinged up and down her spine, and through her vagina and breasts and out her pee hole and her shitter in great galloping jolts of passion. She instantly forgot about the WOG's sexual inadequacies and immediately fell in love with his plastic love tool.
It was the same tool she was about to use on Sherry. She was going to give this young girl, this nymphet, this bubbly little Lolita a taste of hard, jolting sex. A taste that would linger on the end of her tongue, not to mention the sweaty walls of her vagina for sometime. Perhaps for ever!
I'll
"It will not hurt," Margaret said with assurance. The girl was frightened. She could see that advancing now, moving the baton back and forth like a street fighter working a switch blade. Scared, but curious. For why else would she stay on. Margaret's thinking was distorted by the wild passion spilling over her iron wall of self-control. But if the girl was scared she would have left.
"What are you going to do?" Sherry asked.
Margaret moved within an inch of Sherry. "Put your hands against the back of the chair," she insisted.
"What?"
Margaret brought the baton down to the tip of Sherry's nose.
"Do as I instruct," she said.
With great reluctance, Sherry turned and with both hands, leaned against the chair. Behind her, she heard Margaret moving about.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Vaseline."
The fear, held back as if by a mental dam, suddenly burst forth. She spun around, trying to move away, feeling Margaret's firm hand against her thigh, feeling the pain of those strong fingers holding her fast and she screamed.
"Don't hurt me," she begged. "Oh, please don't."
Her voice was filled with dread and fear. And her wish fell on deaf ears.
With terrible swiftness, Margaret was behind Sherry. Her fingers slid up the trembling legs, up to the girls ripe, moist cunt. Sherry arched her rump outwards, and Margaret, sensing the moment was right, slid a finger into the girl's cunt. "Nooooo!! ! "
It was the cry of a lonely, frightened girl. The cry that a child makes when lost. A terrifying sound really; the sound of despair, of passion turned inward, of unrequited love.
Margaret chose that moment to pry open the girl's cunt and jam the plastic dildo tip up inside the womb.
"There!" Margaret insisted. Overwhelmed with the moment, she could not resist rubbing her wet, excited pussy up against Sherry's leg. The sensation was euphoric. Her rigid clitoris rung like a bell clapper. It made her so fucking hot, she nearly had an orgasm right there in the living room. With the dildo only inches inside the child's tender pussy.
"Aaaaaaahhhh!! ! "
The surge of pain was replaced by the throb of desire. Sherry writhed and wriggled, her cunt a great, seeping orifice. Margaret worked the mechanical fuck stick up the girl's tight, but quickly softening quim with quick, darting motions. The smell seeping out with each stab of the cock brought tears to Margaret's eye. It had the musky, sweet fragrance of old leather books left in an attic closet.
"Bend at the waist," Margaret ordered.
She did. And her rump parted open allowing Margaret to drive the baton into the crux of the "V" formed by the girl's action.
"You know what comes next, don't you, Sherry?"
The little girl, now helpless as a wounded rodent in the clutches of a hawk, nodded meekly. Her thighs shivered as the driving shaft widened her fuck hole. Sherry felt so humiliated. It was like the enemas she received as a young girl; the discomforting sensation of having something mechanical forced into her body. It was just awful. And this baton was much bigger than an enema hose. It felt big around as Gordon's wrist, a huge plastic sausage that caused not pleasure, but merely sensation. Awareness that a big, lifeless object being shoved rhythmically in and out of that, tiny most precious slit between her thighs.
"It will hurt at first," Margaret was saying. But her admonishments fell on deaf ears. Sherry would have none of it. If she couldn't stop Margaret, then damn if she would give the old woman the time of day. She would finish soon enough and then Sherry could put her clothes on and leave. She would tell Gordon. But later. Right then, she wanted to control her shaking thighs, and bite on her lower lip to stop her jaw from trembling.
She snapped her eyes shut and bore up under the humiliation. Margaret was panting like a dog in heat. Her hand worked the evil stick into the socket made between her legs. Finally, when she could hold back not another second, Margaret leaned forward and said in a husky voice: "Now, my darling you will learn the full joys of this beautiful martial aid.
Her finger found the button and pressed down. And a thousand volts of electricity went shooting out the end and into Sherry's hot, defiant twat.
CHAPTER TEN
The first shrieking scream, pitched high enough to shatter a wine glass brought out the neighbors on Elm Wood Street.
"What's that, Harry?" said a tiny woman, her hair rolled in curlers.
"I don't know," her husband answered. "It's scary."
The couple was joined by a second neighbor. He was an old fireman, an unhappy sort who lived two doors down from Margaret.
"Jesus, that was enough to wake the dead," he snapped. His bowed legs, the result of an on-the-job accident moved slowly and with great difficulty. "Sounds like they're skinning a nigger."
The woman with curlers sniffed arrogantly. The fireman, a dyed in the wool racist was a bothersome man, one she could do without.
"Sush, Mr. Youngman," she said. "We need none of that."
"Yup," Youngman giggled. "But whoever did the shrieking is in a hell of a lot of pain."
There was no denying that assumption. And they stood outside for several minutes trying to learn who made that hideous, scary noise.
They waited several minutes, but heard nothing. The screaming was not repeated. The wind blew through the elm trees, birds chirped as they winged through the air and peace and equanimity reigned. It was as if nothing had happened. As if the scream was a product of fantasy, not fact.
"Well, fuck this," Youngman said. "I got better things to do than to wait around here." He started hobbling away, his legs jiggling about, threatening to walk away at the knees at any time.
"If you want my two cents worth, I still think it was a nigger doing the hooting."
"Harry, come on," said the woman, grabbing her husband's arm. "I don't want to listen to the-likes of him."
Together, they walked back to the house, the woman with hair curlers bitching about the neighborhood going to hell.
Inside the house, Margaret watched the street through a slit in the curtains. She breathed a sigh of relief when the neighbors returned to their homes. Quickly, she closed the curtains and slumped down into the sofa.
At her feet, lay an exhausted, dazzled young teenager. She lay curled up in a ball sucking her thumb. Between her thighs lay the plastic cock.
Margaret's face was drained of color. Her heart pounded with fright. She looked down at the child, her satiny skin drenched with sweat and wondered what had possessed her, Margaret Anson, to inflict torture upon this young thing.
She wanted revenge, but the dildo was overdoing it. Margaret placed a guiding hand between the girl's clenched knees and gently spread her thighs open. The artificial cock was still buried deep inside Sherry's fuck hole.
You are insane, Margaret thought. Only a mad woman would do what you did.
She reached down and gripped the ridged dildo hand. It was stuck inside her hole, and Margaret had to tug to get the damn contraption out of her.
"Noooooo!" Sherry gasped. She tried weakly to resist, but her energy was spent. Out came the cock with a popping sound. Margaret held up the infernal device, now all wet and sticky from Sherry's seeping cunt, and wondered why she had got the girl interested in the first place.
She would never forget Sherry's face, how it had crinkled up like a prune, her cheeks livid with pain and horror.
"Love my dickie, darling," Margaret had said. "Want to feel it work magic up in your hole."
Sherry response, that magnificent scream had sent her recoiling against the sofa. It had scared the piss out of Margaret. For one terrible instant, she thought the girl had died. Her ears were still ringing.
Luckily, she had managed to stop her from further screaming by stuffing the girl's mouth with socks. God, it was just awful watching her squirm and undulate around the floor, the enormous cock zinging electric shocks to her cunt. But at least she had stopped the screaming. That was impossible to stand.
Now sweat glistened on her heaving belly, a shining coat of lubricant, a salty reminder of her bodily needs, a liquidy, wonderful stuff.
She was indeed a gorgeous girl this Sherry. Even now, drained of energy she was beautiful to the eye, her body lying repose, perfect as a Greek sculpture.
Margaret, beside herself, bent over the exhausted youngster and touched her sweaty brow.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," Margaret said. She was repentant. And now looking down at the girl's loins, Margaret was reminded of her own youth. How bad she had been. A regular hellcat. After discovering her first man at age twelve, nobody could keep her away from boys. Her daddy had beaten her more times than she cared to remember for letting boys get into her pants. So Margaret had sympathy for Sherry. After all, the girl was only a punk kid trying to learn the hard facts of life.
"Did it hurt?" she asked.
Sherry managed to raise her head. Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth. Her stomach felt weak as if sagging under an enormous weight. She looked up at Margaret, her eyes focusing on the older woman and said in her tiny voice: "What was that?"
Margaret held up the white phallus. "A toy, dear. A very wonderful gift that a man once gave me."
Sherry whistled. The cock had been buried up to the hilt in her twat. Her hot flesh had surrounded that "toy" as Margaret so coyly called the dildo and she had felt the charge in her womb. A toy, hell; it had the bite of a rattlesnake.
She had never orgasmed so fast in all her life. Pent up fear drained through her channel as the cock thundered in. Her vagina spread open, her womb surged with joy. If she left for a convent that moment and never experienced sex again except for occasional masturbation, Sherry knew she would have wonderful moments to reflect upon.
"Soooo nice," she gasped. "It was very nice."
Gordon had still not returned and it was growing dark outside. Margaret was playing cards to pass the time. But she had a hard time keeping her mind off sex. The dildo was safely back inside her pocket book. But still she dreamed of the machine's awesome power surging into her body.
"Why didn't you try the dildo?" asked Sherry, an impish smile spreading across her face.
The girl was not only bright, she could also read minds.
"No, I can wait," Margaret said. "I can wait for Gordon to return."
There was an awkward pause as Sherry rose to her feet. She stammered at first, then looking Margaret straight in the eye, the little tyke said: "I bet Gordon would get upset if I told him what you did."
"And what do you mean by that remark?"
The beaming expression plastered all over Sherry's face told Margaret all she needed to know.
Why that little bitch is blackmailing me, Margaret thought. She placed the cards down on the arm chair. Sherry was sitting across from her on the sfoa. In two steps she could have her hands around the girl's throat. Margaret felt the blood pulsate in her neck. In two steps she could have the dildo once more in her hands. And this time she would teach her a real lesson. One not so quickly accepted as the first.
Sherry was not bothered. She sat oblivious to Margaret's sudden anger, her bright eyes shining like exquisite jewels.
"Oh, you could hurt me again," said Sherry. "But where would that get you? And what would Gordon think?"
Gordon was the pivotal point around which Sherry's argument was based. Everything was dependent upon him. She had felt for herself the sweet, violent thrust of his prick inside her womb. Margaret didn't want to lose him. And Sherry knew that.
"I won't tell," Sherry promised. "If you give me the plastic cock."
"Impudent little bitch!" shouted Margaret. In blinding speed, she was out of the chair and across the room. Her hand came down with bone jarring voice catching Sherry across the cheek.
Sherry was off the couch in an instant. She started to cry.
"Now nothing will stop me," she whimpered. "I'll tell everything."
She started for the door, but Margaret caught her by the arm.
"Now listen," Margaret said hastily. "No reason to get mad. I'm sorry about hitting you."
Now it was Sherry's turn. Rearing back, she drove her fist hard into Margaret's soft gut. The blow caught the big woman unaware and the sucker punch bent Margaret in half.
I did it! Sherry thought. I really did it! She was so amazed at her power, at the say so she had in controlling her destiny, that Sherry wanted to jump up and down screaming for joy. Margaret was groaning, holding her belly hobbling around like the helpless, frail woman that she was.
She went for the purse and grabbed the dildo. The round plastic handle felt secure in her hand. Quickly now before Margaret had regained full strength, Sherry dove forward. She hit Margaret behind the knees and both women went tumbling.
"Won't tell!" Sherry shouted, trying frantically to ram the cock into Margaret's cunt. "Won't tell! You better goddamn well do as I say if you still want Gordon as your boyfriend."
She rolled the dildo in her hand. "Now turn over," Sherry said. "I'm going to turn the table on you.
And she started pushing the plastic cock up between Margaret's butt cheeks. Up to her pink little asshole.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Margaret lay exhausted. A black ball of pain grew in her belly. She squatted down on the rug, her head on her thigh, feeling the beastly dildo darting at her bunghole.
She did not know what had possessed the girl. Margaret was worn out, limp, though she still had the energy to say: "Get away from me, you little tramp!"
Margaret raised up and looked back. Sherry was rubbing juice from her cunt onto the plastic cock.
The little girl said, "I'm itching to know how this invention really works."
Margaret told her, "Sherry, don't play with things you know nothing about."
Sherry shrugged. "I didn't mean to really hit you so hard. It just happened. You made me very angry."
Playfully, she took the cock and jabbed Margaret bunghole. The dildo shot between her cheeks and hit the sphincter. Margaret yelped and jumped forward.
Then Sherry laid the pipe on the coffee table and drew close to Margaret's rump. Her soft blue eyes dazed down into her crease with all the innocence of a child staring into a wishing well. Margaret, feeling guilty, slumped forward and buried her head into her arms. She began to sob uncontrollably.
Sherry looked hurt. She had meant to upset Mrs. Anson, even if the older woman desired it.
"I'm sorry," she said, staring down at her parted thighs. But saying sorry wasn't enough. Sherry had to prove her contriteness. She reached for Margaret's butt cheeks and parting them, she pushed forward and licked the woman's asshole.
"Hmmmmm!" Margaret gasped.
Sherry continued licking, not minding the taste really, but not too excited by licking the woman's asshole. It was just something that had to be done.
Finally, she lifted her head and grinned. "Feel better, Mrs. Anson?"
Margaret grinned. She turned on her thigh and revealed her hairy pussy to the girl's twinkling eyes. Through the pubic foilage, the pink sliver of clitoris was visible.
"While we wait for Gordon," she said, pulling Sherry closer. "I want to show you something."
She took the girl's hand and pressed her fingers against her own clitoris. The flared, excited digit swelled up like a spike.
Speechless, Sherry bent down and licked Margaret with her tongue.
"Ohhhhh!" Margaret gasped. She rolled her head back and forth, her mouth lolled open. When she recovered, which took several moments, Margaret felt happy.
"That feels so wonderful," she exclaimed. "Would you like to see for yourself, Sherry?"
The little girl nodded her head.
Margaret said, "In fact, I think you need it. Cunt-lapping isn't everything. But it's a good place to begin. Especially between two women."
Margaret could not speak, but gazing down at her own crotch, she felt a livening in her belly, a squishy pulsing.
like the mouth of her love hole was doing the fish-lip sucks, blinking and wiggling for her undivided attention.
Margaret knelt between the girl's tender thighs.
Sherry, still gazing, raised her hips up to Margaret's mouth. Gingerly, the older woman began to lick. Back and forth went her tongue. The raspy surface cleaned away the moisture and gently worked through the tight lips down to the clitoris.
Sherry felt a cuntal wrench, like a hard swallow, and with that she groaned. "Goood, Mrs. Anson. So very gooood!"
Margaret dipped her head and with a sudden thrust, drove her tongue tip hard against the tiny clitoris.
In with a swish, into a channel so tight and juicy that there was nothing to make her hesitate, just sliding along her groove until her tongue circled the tiny clitoris and Margaret, feeling her first hot throb, drove harder and licked longer, using her tongue as a cock.
Sherry jackknifed off the floor. Her hips twisted violently, her head rolling side to side and as her twat humped up and down to the beat set by Margaret's tantalizing tongue.
The little girl had strength in her legs then, she lifted them and hooked her ankles around Margaret's back.
She began humping, groaning as she squeezed her gaping pussy at Margaret's face, and pulled her twat through long, milking squeezes.
Sherry cried, "You're sizzling in there, Mrs. Anson!"
Margaret just laughed. Raising her head, she said, "Just hump, darling. Fuck with your hips."
Margaret returned to her choirs, burying her face into the tender fruit of Sherry's loins. The clitoris rose up straight as a miniature carrot and she licked it hard then soft then hard again.
She wouldn't stop, not for anything. Sherry's hips rabbit fucked, then the girl screamed, begging Margaret to stop.
"Not now," Margaret said, lapping the young, swelled up pussy. "Not till I'm goddam good and ready to." Driving harder, she penetrated the tender quim.
Her hands, wanting grips to control the cavorting hips, found Sherry's rump cheeks. Eagerly, she knead the flesh, grabbing both buns and holding on.
"Hurrrrry!" Sherry gasped.
Margaret felt a wave of guilt just then. Here she was eating out a girl young enough to be her daughter. It was disgusting.
Oh, it was shameful, this unspeakable act, she holding onto a girl's rump while sucking her clitoris. And Sherry driving a dildo up Margaret's backsides.
Sherry's openness, her gushing vaginal fluids, they were animalistic, like her grunts of feral pleasure!
Margaret raised her head and replaced her tongue with a finger.
"Hump me," she cried, driving the finger into Sherry's slit like a screwdriver into a screw slot. "Fuck with your hips. I want you to come. To come right this instant!"
Sherry replied fiercely with a pounding of her hips. She pounded away until it came, the explosion of blood and passion, a hot bloating that made her vagina feel as big as a football, then a shrinking down, a total collapse of passion and energy.
The spasm of heat blinded Sherry and she guessed that for a second she had passed out.
"Ooooooo!" she groaned. A second pleasure wave, like a giant 20-footer pounding the Hawaii coastline swept her up. Sherry had no choice, but to go with the force. The surf the wave, this pleasure wave, as it crashed on the white beaches of her crotch.
Margaret was moaning too. Margaret heated herself for using the dildo on Sherry. It was a coarse, thoughtless act.
"Fuck more! You're coming again," Margaret said. She felt the dollops of hot pussy juice on her fingers as she drove a nice, clean hole through Sherry's crotch.
You did a bad thing, Margaret thought, and you must be punished. For Sherry's sake. To show her that there is a right and wrong in this world.
Sherry's fucking became more violent. Hot stuff was running from her cunt down her ass. It was like jism, only it was coming from her twat. Again and again the little girl climaxed.
And Margaret was right there, using her finger, coaxing Sherry on, causing climax after climax.
While she thought of a proper punishment for herself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gordon Wilson drove home, tired and exhausted from lovemaking and the guilt that went along with cheating on his wife Jackie. Someday he would get the nerve and ask for a divorce. Their marriage was in ruins. Jackie had to be a moron not to suspect his infidelity. They hardly made love anymore.
He walked into his house and yelled. She responded, her voice coming from upstairs in the bathroom. His shoes creaked on the wood stairs that led to the second floor.
"Oh, there you are," he san?.
His wife looked up. A bewildered and dazed Jackie was in the bathroom squatting on the John, slipping the nozzle of her douche up her vagina.
She squeezed the bulb. Warm water washed out her vagina.
She had slept for hours. Awakening, finding her husband gone once again, she had wondered around the house naked wondering what to do.
I feel so dirty, she thought. And then got the idea to wash herself both inside and out.
"Is that all you have time for," Gordon snarled, angry at his wife. "Washing your cunt."
Washed clean, she rose, put the douche in the medicine cabinet and ignoring her husband gazed at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were hooded, smiling at their secrets. Her lower lip, pink and moist, pouted provocatively. She got a comb and whipped it through her hair until it fluffed, a tawniness with sunshine in it, and there was a high color in her cheeks. You look so pretty, Jackie, she thought.
"Goddamn it answer me!" Gordon snapped. He put a hand on her shoulder and spun his wife around. Her secret, taunting smile couldn't hide her voluptuousness. She was ravishing, her slim hips and pendulous breasts creating a vision of perfection. The pouting smile did not leave her face. She didn't ignore her husband, nor try to fight him. She stood there, strong and confident waiting for him to release her so she could attend to herself.
"Why is it, Gordon that you pay more interest to your baseball team than to me?" she asked.
"Oh, shit here we go again," he snapped.
Her gaze fell down to his pants. She was surprised to see his cock was erect again. She felt a longing, buried desire to feel him entering her cunt. It was momentary, however, and she looked again into his cruel face.
"Do you find the girls more appealing than me, your own wife?"
Gordon exploded. His blood, boiling hot now bubbled over. His hand came around slapping his wife squarely on the chin, knocking her down to the floor.
Jackie's head was reeling. She touched her chin with two fingers, blinked her eyes and looked up at her husband. There was no fear in her gaze, only an inquisitiveness. A smile appeared briefly on her lips.
"A little young, aren't they?" she said. "Little league, let's see you have to be all of thirteen to play."
Gordon raised his hand back again, but Doris didn't move, he dropped his hand. Suddenly, the weight of the world descended upon his shoulders. His head was dizzy and he slumped against the door frame, his head bowed down at his wife.
Several seconds passed before he spoke.
"You knew from the start," he said.
She nodded. Jackie suppressed a smile, a gesture that would have given away her deep satisfaction at once again establishing contact with her husband.
"I suspected from the beginning," she said. "When we stopped fucking. I knew there was somebody else."
Damn, what a fool I've been, Gordon thought. He looked at his wife who fingered her bare tittie, milking out the nipple, and his pecker got hard as a steel rod.
He wanted his wife badly. All changed! His wife looked now as she had the first day of their marriage. His mind wallowed in passion, the thought of driving his cock deep into her pussy, feeling her hips buckle as she went screaming into an orgasm.
He tugged at his pants, freeing his cock. His breath labored, his hands trembled as he peeled off his trousers and underwear.
"Bend over," he grunted.
Doris was almost as surprised as her husband. Months had gone by without any lovemaking. Now this, right here in the bathroom. She was more than willing to please her husband anything he wanted. Her asshole was just as soft and seductive as her mouth and cunt. They were passion wells ready to be dipped into. But doubt lingered; why did he want her now.
She had to find out.
'Turn over," he croaked again.
But she did not. She purred like a cat and looked up with great liquidy, bedroom eyes. But she did not move.
"Tell me one good reason," she said.
A hand reached under her thigh and flipped her over as casually as a cat might lash out at a fly.
"Because I told you to!" he exclaimed.
She felt his hands caressing her sloping buttocks, moving between her quivering thighs, kneading her pussy, now squeaky clean from douching. She gasped out loud. His hand found her snatch, a finger penetrated and she groaned, her slit filled with pleasing, tantalizing warmth.
"Ooooohhh!" she grasped. He quickly moved up her torso. Hands and knees holding his weight, he mounded her cunt from the rear. His curved fuck stick, red as a beet slipped through the velvet halls of her thighs and found the slit of puckered cunt flesh. Laughing, for he always laughed when he burrowed into her womb, Gordon slipped down, his hands grasping her pendant breasts. Now he was in the saddle, hunching and rocking, his dick stuck in like a knife into butter.
"Good isn't it," he said. Even in the bathroom, she was good. His mind was washed clean of the filthy, kinky business that he had indulged himself in. Riding her cunt was therapy; he didn't need Sherry or Margaret now. Later, perhaps at some other time. But not right now.
Jackie wiggled her hips, holding herself up as long as possible. The dick rammed so nicely in her slot, seemed to grow. It had been so long that the experience of fucking her husband was brand new. Suddenly, her belly spasmed, the muscles fighting the hard, thick invader. She moved, found the bestial cock still growing, and started to fuck.
Fuck hard. Very hard.
Back and forth they rocked. Two love birds joined at the crotch, Gordon was slipping in and out, the clean flesh of her freshly douched pussy squeaking as juice flooded down from her womb. Back and forth, nice and easy, as if they had all day.
But Doris didn't have all day. The position was difficult, but she was getting used to the straining of her back muscles. It felt joyous. Just so he kept driving his cock into her socket. Driving, and humping, his pecker rutting a trail through her womanhood.
"Ready!" he gasped. His tight lipped smile hardened into a grimace. Sperm churned white hot in his crotch.
Jackie wiggled her ass-cheeks, feeling the hot warmth of his crotch against her buns. He was so big and strong. She felt helpless. Her muscles were all sweaty and weak. Only an inner determination kept her going.
It seemed like hours had passed. She was too weak to cry out, too exhausted to tell her husband that, no, she was ready, that coming was out of the question.
And then just as he surged forward, her body seemed to light up. Groaning, she collapsed under his pulsating cock. He continued to hunch away going deeper and deeper as he finally could hold back no longer.
"AAAAIIIIEEE!! ! " he gasped. Warm, thick sperm shot out the end of his cock into her cauldron-like pussy. It filled her pocket size cunt and dribbled out with each dick jerk onto her thighs.
Suddenly, his wailing voice was joined by his wife's.
"Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!! ! " she gasped. His phallus was moving in tiny jerks. Cuntal lips seemed to reach out for it. The instrument tilted, quivered, advanced as though pushing into a second cunt.
She was sucking it in! And loving it. Loving all of it.
"AAAAIIIIEEEE!! ! ! " she gasped. "OHHHHH DARLINGGG!! ! "
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The woodpecker was twittering outside the window and a wealth of new blooms had colored the flower garden. Margaret closed the back door and returned to the living room.
Where was Gordon? she thought.
Sherry was slunk down into the couch, a hand to her twat. It was still showing the after effects of their savage lovemaking. Margaret came over and sat down next to the girl, legs spread. Her hair-fringed split glistened with vaginal dew, and the mouth had opened exposing pink flesh beneath.
Sherry leaned across Margaret and kissed an exposed nipple. Margaret sighed, patting the girl on the head. She thought, Margaret there you sit with your legs spread, this young thing kissing you and you feel no shame. Why don't you feel guilty.
She turned and tried to see Sherry as Gordon might. She examined the girl's naked pubes, small but smartly curved rump and her flat chest. Once she had looked this way, but no man had ever touched her, much less fucked her cunt!
Goodness, did I miss out!
Sherry rolled her legs and stared at Margaret's hairy crotch. She felt a spasm in her rear end. Margaret's twat looked juicy. It was slightly puckered from penetration and staring wide-eyed at it, she decided to experiment.
She crawled down into Margaret's lap and searched for the swelled clitoris with her tongue. For some minutes she searched and then, her tongue came in contact with a salty tasting noodle of skin about half an inch long and she knew that was it.
Margaret was panting. On fire. The girl's tongue began its insane, unheard licking and sucking and she had to groan. Ribbons of fire grew out of her belly, running up to her breasts where her nipples swelled up.
OHHHHHHHHH!! ! ! !
Sherry heard the cry and ignored it. The way Margaret was squirming about on the sofa made pussy eating all that much more enjoyable. Suddenly, Margaret's hips rose up, taking Sherry's licking mouth with it. Up and up the two went until Margaret, her back, bent like a bow, began driving her cunt against Sherry's licking tongue.
The cum broke with a burst like a wave crashing on a beach, and Margaret's moans of pleasure silenced the grandfather's clock bonging the hour in the next room.
It was pure bliss. Sherry was nearly exhausted when she finally lifted her face. Margaret smiled, shaped a kiss for Sherry while staring down at her small, nub-like nipples, watching her rubbing her twat. A small girl with a new toy.
She had to do something for Sherry. She gazed smilingly at the girl, reaching for her heart shaped cunt, but said nothing. Margaret brought her face down to Sherry's and tongue-kissed her so deeply and excitingly that Sherry's hips cavorted on the sofa. It was only the beginning for these two.
No words, just sucking Sherry's tongue while her finger warmed the girl's groove was enough communication. Sherry's nipples swelled up and Margaret was quick to caress the tiny red ends.
Margaret felt no shame. Not with the dildo, not now as she stroked and fondled the girl. A girl old enough to be her own daughter. What impulse led her to such extremes remained a mystery. Sex seemed to be driving her to all sorts of extremes.
As Margaret caressed she thought, "Well, kiddo, if you're a lesbian then you just are lesbian, drift with it, and goodness what big, plump lips Sherry has, how terribly exciting to squeeze and press and tug playfully at them!
She felt Sherry wiggling around like an eel. The girl was turned on. Perhaps, it was time for the dildo again. That electric charge could satisfy a sexual appetite as nothing else could.
"Raise a leg, darling wood nymph," Margaret heard herself saying. "I'm going to lap your pussy."
Gape-mouthed with astonishment-Margaret was acting so nice!-Sherry obeyed. Her cunt was so hot, so fucking hot, that she could barely stand it. Then Margaret brought her lips down again on her tush and Sherry groaned, her mind reeling as if caught up in a dream.
The wet suction, a hundred times more voluptuous than a fondling finger, bloated Sherry's tiny clitoris. It filled the older woman's mouth.
Margaret groaned deep in her throat and eased her sweating, excited body up on Sherry's. Wiggling into position, she dropped her pubes down on Sherry's open, waiting mouth. The hot, wet tongue greeted her loins with a tasty lick.
Now both women were in the sixty-nine position, rolling and licking and eating each other. Dyking it up, sharing and receiving sex, enjoying the goodness of womanhood.
Ohhh! A cry from her parched throat, startled Margaret. Ohhh, she's trying to eat my entire vulva, hairy lips and all.
Desperately she struggled for the plastic cock. She had left the damned thing on the coffee table. Her fingers reached out, and found the ridged plastic handle. She brought the tool back between Sherry's legs. Before Margaret's eyes loomed the great gleaming mound of Sherry's cunt.
She watched, then brought her tongue down again on the hairless crease, the raspy surface moving back and forth against her groove. Sherry, convulsing with pleasure, drove her tongue as deep as it would go into Margaret's furry muff.
Yaaaaaaaa!!
A leg cocked up and she saw the mound, the target of her desires. She wanted to eat and lick and suck and never quit. Never!
She clutched the dildo like a knife. The gleaming conical head pointed downward. Slowly Margaret brought the point down her breasts, across her fluttering stomach, down to the gleaming mound of womanhood.
Carefully, she worked the tool in and out. The head went in easier, now that her vulva was stretched out. From eating and fucking.
She palmed the satiny inner thigh with her free hand, brushed the hair out of her eyes. Sherry was driving into her hole. She buckled at the waist. Hurry! she told herself. She wiggled, feeling the orgasm building, and realized she had to work fast. The odor from Sherry's cunt made her quiver all over. She licked her lips and gazed at her wanton hole.
Sherry's hole, a round wet red mouth, took in the dildo.
Nearer, into the musky heat, she drove the cock. Sherry's whole body spasmed and down between her legs, the flesh quivered. The girl moaned, and the vibrations tingled Margaret's twat.
Ooooooo! Do it! Do it now, thought Margaret.
In went the dildo. The shaft sliced into Sherry's tiny pie, spreading the lips back, exposing raw, blood soaked meat. In and out went the cock, a gleaming white missile contrasting with puckered cunt flesh. Margaret was half out of her mind. Her pussy was overcast with a rosy hue now, and she knew a cum was right there, oh yes, exploding as she drove the dagger-dick in up to the hilt and turned on the juice.
I am what I am, she thought as Sherry's mouth pulled from her cunt and issued a horrifying scream. I'm a cunt-lapping, child abusing lesbian with a cum shooting sparks and firing off roman candles, gushing juices. I love it! I'll never stop.
Margaret was dead serious.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Neither girl heard Gordon and his wife entering the house. They were too busy with each other. Then the door slammed shut and Margaret turned around to watch Gordon enter the living room.
"Holy cow!" he gasped.
The dildo was going up and down like an oil pumper. Sherry was screwed up tight on the couch, her eyes shut, low moaning sounds emanating from her mouth.
The dildo looked enormous. It rose like a stake from her crotch.
Gordon's wife, Jackie followed her husband into the living room. At first, she couldn't believe the raw, sex going on the sofa. It seemed like a dream.
But it was no dream. She gazed at the cylinder of flesh protruding from Sherry's cunt, at the huge swollen twat puckered around it and turned her head, astonished.
"I'm going to be sick," she bleated.
She drove her head into Gordon's chest. Calm down, she told herself. Nothing can stop it. But why has Gordon brought me here?
She felt sick at the pit of her stomach, the same way she felt that day Gordon had forced her to suck him.
He had held her against the wall, her body brutally striped, and his cock coming towards her mouth. She had fought, turning away but nothing stopped his cock. He rubbed his member around her face, across her lips before starting to undulate. Finally, he forced himself into her mouth.
It's done, she said to herself. You have a mouthful of cock. Suck it gently. Oh, it isn't so bad. The texture is rubbery, strange tasting. It feels almost good slipping in and out.
She ended up enjoying it. Even the climax, when slippery juice squirted down her throat, Jackie found pleasing. Now she found herself hiding her face. Because two women, coupled together in a loving embrace was more than she could stomach.
"So this is what you wanted me to see," she cried.
Well, not exactly.
But Gordon couldn't stop what he had put into motion. The dildo churning in Sherry's cunt was a surprise. His intentions were much more innocent; he wanted to have his wife, Sherry and Margaret all together, naked as jay birds, sucking and eating and fucking him.
But he hadn't counted on Margaret and Sherry forming their own love nest.
Gordon thought for a minute. Something had to be done quickly if he were to salvage the day. Moving towards Sherry, he slapped Margaret across the face. His hand found the plunging dildo and pulled it from Sherry's snatch.
"Ohhhhhh noooo!" Sherry gasped.
"Sit up," commanded Gordon.
Sherry sat up, a hurt, hungry expression smeared across her dripping lips. Her cheeks, flushed with excitement, told all.
She did not question Gordon. She only wanted to return to cunt lapping Margaret. She wondered if she could peel back those pussy lips and drill home her tongue.
Suddenly, Gordon was slipping from his cloths. His enormous cock stood straight out holding the girls attention. He turned to his wife, now staring at her husband, and said, "Join me, Jackie. Join me this once and I'll do anything you ask of me."
Jackie thought her husband was crazy. If she ran away, she would still have to deal with him. And if she joined, then goodness, anything could happen.
Caught in this interesting quandary, Jackie suddenly was forced into action. Forced that is because Margaret was moving the dildo towards her husband. And the teenager was moving towards his cock.
"Don't you dare!" she shouted.
Sherry was eager to get back to work. She wanted a man's cock right then. She wanted to hear the popping sound as the prick head cleared her lips. She wanted the taste of hard meat, the taste of bare pecker slippery and hot and huge.
She cried out with delight. "The four of us!" she gasped. "The four of us all together!"
Quickly Jackie joined in. She crouched down on the sofa, and left Sherry's tiny hand rest on her furry pelt. It felt odd having another woman touch her. Odd and yet very good too. Tears suffused her eyes, but turning back was out of the question. She wanted her husband, she wanted sex and joy and happiness. And her pussy was terribly hot. Choking back the tears, she wiggled down to her husband's crotch and found his pecker, hard and flickering. She touched him with two fingers, guided the enormous head to her lips. Gently she took him inside.
"That's a baby!" Gordon gasped.
He reached down, his fingers searching for a woman's genitals, and found what he wanted. The furry warm pelt surrounding Margaret's pussy. Gently, he fingered her cunt.
Sherry came from behind and tried guiding the plastic cock up Gordon's asshole, but he pushed her away. Sherry, however, was not going to be stopped.
She watched Gordon's wife frantically sucking cock, and decided her asshole would be as good as Gordon's. Perhaps, more so. Sherry wiggled into position, found Jackie's hunches pumping furiously and with a movement inched the cock up her hole.
"Get out of there!" Jackie shouted.
Her cry was met by a twinge of panic. It roared through her butt, ached quickly, then gave way as her asshole pushed out to accommodate the plastic dick.
"I'm doing this for my husband," she groaned out loud. "Only for him."
Margaret didn't give two fucks what this intruder was doing. She didn't care. Her skin was bathed in sweat and her body hungered for sex. The sex, soft and luscious that only a woman's tender mouth was capable of producing.
Jackie's head bobbed into view and that was all Margaret needed. She reached out for Jackie's free hand, found it forced it to her humping back.
"Up there," Margaret ordered. "Put it up there."
She angled her split rump toward the free hand. Jackie got the message. Her mouth, filled with stiff cock, her asshole now filled with dildo had a tantalizing effect.
She felt herself giving in, Jackie did. She was trembling all over. With a groan she gave in, let her hands go out and reach for Margaret's pubes. She ventured out from the safety of her own body going to Margaret, reaching, hoping and, yes, lusting to touch another woman. Even as her own slot was being stuffed with sex, even as her sphincter was being spread apart by a monstrous cock, even then, she reached for more.
It was just like a woman to want more than she could handle.
As her cunt spasmed, and her asshole tugged on the rod, Jackie made contact. In went her fingers. She grasped hold of Margaret and finger-fucked her slot. So they were finally all joined together like one, big happy family.
Fingers and cocks and dildoes and lips, attached to cunts and asshole-all together, one big happy family.
They rocked and fondled, drinking and smelling each other's juices for orgasm after orgasm. And when they were finished, the world seemed different. At least the outside did.
They had been fucking for almost six straight hours. And all were on the very brink of exhaustion.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
At a few minutes past midnight, Sherry staggered up from the couch. God, she was tired. Her body never hurt so much in her whole life. All thirteen years of it.
She slid off the couch, and on her knees she gazed into the spread of Jackie's legs at her hair-edged red slit. Sherry was becoming very familiar with a woman's private parts. But still she could not resist.
Winding her arms around the sleek firmness of the girl's thighs, she approached slowly, breathing deeply of the hot juices, licking the hairless, satiny thigh flesh to each side, aiming at Jackie's bulging red clit.
Behind her, the TV set still made incoherent noises. For some strange reason, Gordon had wanted to watch the baseball game and despite objections from everyone else, had turned on the tube. He was fast asleep, but the TV still blared.
To her left was the stairway up from the first floor. She ignored it, however, for Sherry was not ready for bed.
She instead dove into Jackie's crotch, her tongue flicking. She found the tiny morsel of erectile flesh and latched on.
It swelled under the tongue lash, and Jackie cried out. Swabbing it slowly, bending it, pushing, Sherry made sure the woman would have no second thoughts. She pressed puckered lips to the nub, softly sucked it in, and when she had it, pulled from side to side.
"Wow!" Jackie gasped. "I'll cum. You'll make me cum, Sherry!"
Sure of herself now, Sherry smiled and licked it as she said, "Then, you'll want to turn about, Jackie. You want to suck my big clit, won't you, darling?"
"No-o!" Jackie cried. It was a selfish motive, but Jackie didn't want to move. She wanted to lay back and let this little urchin with the tantalizing mouth to suck on her clitoris forever. But nothing was ever that simple.
Sherry smiled, sent her tongue slithering down the groove between the jellied inner labia, licked the rim of Jackie's vagina, and then for her own pleasure slid her tongue up it and sucked, sucked, drawing even the outer lips into her mouth. Jackie went wild.
She was thrashing about, her hips jerking. Glancing up, Sherry saw her grab her own titties and pull, wrench them rough the nipples.
You hot cunt!
Jackie was ecstatic. And so was Sherry. In five minutes you'll be sucking my clit, darling, oh yes you will!
"My cum, oh I'm cumming, Sherry, lap me, suck my cunt, please lap and suck my cunt!"
Sherry almost strangled on the juices spilling down her throat. But she got all the juice down and did as Jackie said to.
At last, she stopped sucking, swallowed, rose to the fiercely swollen clit, licked and lipped it as the girl writhed and shrieked through the orgasm.
But there were other things going around her.
She heard voices. That of Gordon and Margaret.
Sherry looked on the left over the supine, body of Jackie and saw Gordon, his enormous cock stuck down Margaret's throat. His eyes were bulging at the spectacle; he was getting off on it.
My ass is in a sling, she thought. Because he sees me lapping his old lady's cunt. But why not. She's just laying there, just sprawled on the couch letting me eat her.
Gordon, sorry, but I couldn't resist. It tastes delicious. You should never have turned me on to sex. This is all your fault. I want your cock. I'll always want your cock. But I can get along nicely without a man. I have found a woman's body as pleasurable as any man's.
Jackie finally slumped down, her voice now only a raspy whisper, a shadow of its former self. "This," she moaned, "is the happiest day of my life."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
She had heard that roar before, that wounded bull, that bear charging out of his cave.
Gordon appeared to leap from her. One of his big, hairy hands swept past her face and grabbed hold of Jackie. Suddenly, he was groping her, hands gliding and moving into everywhere.
From everywhere people came flying toward the pair of naked bodies, women with tits leaping, a dozen hands thrusting into the tangle, hands clawing and clutching. It was an orgy, a spontaneous happening with sex being the catalyst.
Sherry jerked upright, knowing she must help but with no idea what was going on, except that inside her cunt pulsing gushes continued.
Maybe I should have left Jackie alone, she thought.
This has to be a dream Sherry thought. It must be. I'm dreaming.
But this was no dream. This was war.
A sex war. A fucking nightmare war.
Sherry jumped into the middle of things. The sex urge grabbed her strongly and took hold of her senses like a wave takes command of a rudderless ship.
Sherry ran after Gordon. She wanted to stop him. She wanted to pull Jackie away and suck on his cock.
She pulled on his shoulder. Gordon was holding his wife by the cooze, staring her straight in the eye. He said, "I'm not letting go, baby. Feel my finger. It must be a foot up your cunt. I ain't stopping until I feel you cum against my finger.
With that he jammed his hand up her crotch, and Jackie screamed.
Sherry, feeling it was all or nothing, attacked. She dug her fingers into Gordon's back and raked the muscles. Long, bloody streaks followed.
Suddenly, Gordon spun around and with his free hand grabbed Sherry.
His face looked chalky in the light, like he was going to be sick to his stomach.
Sherry said, "Gordon, I want you. I want your cock right this instant. I can't wait. I want you. I need you."
He was staring bug-eyed at the little nympho. His mouth worked. No words came out.
"Say something!" Sherry shouted.
At last he rose shakily to his feet and went, legs wobbling, out of the living room. Sherry watched as did Jackie, both women were astonished by Gordon's erratic behavior. Astonished beyond words.
Gordon returned and said, "I went to piss. My balls were aching like a son-of-a-bitch. So I pissed all my troubles away."
Sherry inspected his cock.
It wagged like a dogs tail, the circumcised head dripping like a small faucet.
Tears blinded Sherry as she went to his side. Why was he acting so indifferent. Take a pee. Christ, he had his wife, his thirteen year-old girl friend and his wife, all naked, all yearning for his sex and he said fuck it and took a piss.
Men! They are so impossible.
Sherry heard the other murmuring. She turned and stared straight at Jackie. Sherry sensed the older women's jealousy. She could feel Jackie's eyes gazing, burning like coals.
Sherry turned her head. Her cunt was hot for action. Yet Gordon was not turned on. She could tell. Suddenly the girl took a deep breath and decided to try the dildo. Perhaps, he would come back around later.
She went to the bathroom and found the dildo where it had been left. Then she came back to the living room and sat against the chair. For some reason, it was important to have an orgasm in front of the group. She held the cock in front of her and stared down at her cunt. She could see the livid line of her split, the slight ovaling of her vaginal mouth. Only a few minutes ago she had been having the time of her life. Now this, this infernal machine.
Maybe Gordon would take the cock away from her and use his. It was a thought, but she doubted that would happen.
He must be feeling terribly turned on, she thought, working the dildo tip into her slit. She jacked her legs up, and wiggled her rump. She paused, the gadget in her hand, gazing at herself. In a few months, round tits would be hanging from her flat chest, and curly pubic hair would cover her snatch. Her glistening coral slit looked so wide, from the flared notch where her clit, limp now, dangled, down the crinkled inner labia to her hole.
Jesus, I must be dreaming again, she gasped. Her eyes snapped open.
Her cunt was beat up. It was firm and tight and wonderful. It sucked the dildo, squeezing on the plastic surface, coming down like a vice.
The cock hurt going up inside her channel. It hurt like hell, but Sherry continued working the tool deep into her pussy just the same.
How big will I get, she thought. Will I have a snatch like Margaret. All soft and hairy with a crimson, bleeding line for a slit. Will that be me?
Up, deeper into her slit went the dildo. It moved quickly up her hole, disappearing into her slit.
She began to wiggle, feeling that big fuck stick starting to click inside her crotch. She dropped her legs. Now she closed them hugging the gizmo within. Of her pussy she now saw only her plump mound and the dimple where her thighs meet it. She thought, really, it looks much prettier tucked inside me. My skin is beautiful, so clear and smooth. It's much better than hair.
Still she wanted a pelt, a furry rug covering her twat.
The cock was rocking wildly now as she squatted down, and, oh, a flush colored her cheek, spread down over her swollen breasts. like a cum beginning!
Then she heard a voice from the darkness. A voice that said, "Look at what Sherry is doing!"
Her heart leaped. Dearest Gordon! "Oh, darling."
Her eyes snapped opened and she was staring at Gordon. He was smiling, wearing her pink panties on his head and smirking like a grade schooler.
"I think she's flipped out," he said. "Look at her. Look at her using that cock!"
She reached out with her free hand, but he backed away. Suddenly, the panties disappeared, as he reached out for Sherry's breasts.
His hand found the breast, small and tight and his thumb fondled the round nub at the end. "Sherry, are you all right," he said. "You look crazy as hell."
Was she all right? She was fucking fantastic. Gordon was caressing her nipples again while the enormous dick throbbing in her belly. She felt hot and good all over, especially her throbbing clit being dinged by the dildo. Suddenly, Gordon's tongue was parting her lips slipping into her mouth, like a limber cock, darting here and there!
She slipped a hand down his chest, found his flat belly and the tuft of curly pubic hair. For a moment her entire being existed in the hand weaving about the rigid column, which seemed a firebrand against her sweaty palm.
Their mouths parted. Panting, Gordon said, "Man, hard again. Stick yourself with that plastic cock baby. I'm gonna fill your mouth.
"Damn, the little tart," Margaret sneered. "Steal my man, right from under my nose. I should kill her. Right this instant."
Jackie wasn't too happy either. "I have the same feeling."
Sherry, meanwhile rammed the dildo home, as Gordon instructed, saw the glistening pool of pussy juice gathering at the apex of her crotch. She whispered, blushing as she spoke, "Ohhhh, I want to, I want to so bad."
She jiggled the pecker in her slot just to be sure this was, indeed, everything she always wanted.
Gordon said nothing. The girl had gone to the brink and then a step. She was crazy as a loon carrying on the way she did.
It upset Gordon. His balls rumpled, his cock twitching to hug the lining of her mouth. Eagerly, he leaned against her, slowly moving his cock where his lips had been.
Sherry felt his presence against her arm and turned her head, felt the tip of his cock brush her lower lip. With an upward movement, she drove the dildo into her cunt. Up to the hilt.
It's in! It's all the way in!
Sherry wanted him to spurt in her mouth.
His juice, I need it, need it now. I want to lick and lip it, wow, he's so fucking big, his cock may drown me.
"Take my pecker," he ordered. "Damn you, baby, take my cock!"
His fingertip wriggled on her anal knot, sending electric thrills up her spine. She was hot everywhere, on fire and before she knew what was happening, her thumb flicked the dildo switch.
YAAAAAAA!! ! !
Her belly tightened, then went straight as a board. Her rump fluttered briefly, followed by her lips which trembled when not dribbling spittle.
Gordon, not wanting to miss his chance, swung his pecker towards those wetting lips, grabbing her jaw with his hands and jerking her face around.
Her mouth faced him, the lips shaped into a giant O. It was a target, a huge, easy target and with a forward jolt of hips, his prick found the mark, penetrated inside.
He plunged once, twice and again. Sweat poured from his skin as he rammed her mouth.
"Ohhhh, this is it," he gasped.
It came in a hot gush, a fountain of thick cream spitting into her throat. Her renewed cum was so body-quaking that she was not quite aware of the cock discharging in her mouth.
Electric thrills rattled her crotch. Wild, wonderful thrills.
She couldn't have enough. Not nearly enough.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She was in bed, a small bed in a small upstairs room which had only one light. She was smiling, half asleep, her every nerves melted to ooze.
Gordon looked down, the girl's tiny body resting in a sea of sheets and fluffy mattress.
A man wearing a white coat examined the girl's eyes. He shone a beam of light into the pupil, watching the iris contract several times before snapping the light beam off. He breathed heavily and reached for a cigarette.
"Well, doctor," Gordon said.
The doctor, a small turnip shaped man with thick glasses and a brush moustache sucked on the cigarette. He looked off in the distance, his mind drifting to other patients.
"It will be hard to pinpoint," the doctor answered. "She may come out of it in one day. Perhaps more. Cases such as these are difficult."
Gordon watched, then turning to the doctor, put a hand on his shoulder.
"Doc, you don't know what happened," Gordon began.
And the doctor, his head cocked back and his eyes bulging out from behind the glasses, waved Gordon silent.
"I can tell you a girl can only take so much stimulation," he said. "And from examining this girl, she got just too damn much."
On the way downstairs, Gordon explained as best he could the events of the past few days. The doctor listened impassively and, upon reaching the living room, he sat next to Margaret and puffed on his cigarette.
"I don't blame you all one bit," he said slowly. "In my youth these things happened, but not as commonly as they happen today. It used to be very exclusive stuff. Now, well, everyone is having group sex."
