Adolescence is a notoriously difficult phase in life, particularly in regards to coming to terms with one's awakening sexuality. Even in this modern day and age of freedom and openness, there still exists a strong atmosphere of taboo about the discovery that there is life below the waist.
Nevertheless, the urge to merge is too strong to be ignored. At least Matilda, the fourteen-year old heroine of the story, was not about to pretend that new and exciting feelings were not beginning to make their presence known to her.
This is a tale about her 'age of coming' in America. Her family, friends, teachers, and then some, all 'help' guide her along in her quest for sexual enlightenment.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Matilda stood on the corner shivering slightly in the cool early morning air as she waited for the school bus. At first glance she seemed to be a child, despite her fourteen years, as she was small with delicate elfin features. Her school uniform, a rather drab business styled after a sailor's outfit, further detracted from her age, as she was painfully aware.
She made no attempt, as many of her fellow classmates at her all-girl school did, to improve her lot via the use of a "sophisticated" hair-do. Rather, she was complacent enough in her youthful appearance (or perhaps it would be closer to the truth to say that she was resigned to her "fate", as she put it, of looking immature) not to be bothered with the-likes of hair curlers and bobby pins.
She was, as a matter-of-fact, very staunch in her private conviction that she was plain and hence not very-likely to ever have any romance. This notion was apparent in the manner in which she conducted herself, which was relatively and refreshingly free of any attempts of pretension of adult-like behavior, unlike her classmates.
She stepped back as the bus came to the curb and then bounded forward and up the steps through the opened door. She managed to smile through her yawn at the driver, Mr. Kemp, who cheerily returned her greeting.
This pleasant ritual of salutations had taken place every school day for nine years, so by now Matilda and Mr. Kemp were quite friendly acquaintances. He was additionally on very friendly terms with all the other students and was considered by all to be one of the pillars of the school. After all, he had been established at the Hillgart Academy for Girls for over twenty years and it was now inconceivable to all concerned for the school to run without his services as bus driver, custodian, handyman, and resident father figure.
He was also always in great demand by the girls for games, story telling, and, on occasion, advice and consolation.
Yes, he was indeed a great pal to all the girls and was also well-liked and respected by the faculty (which generally consisted of aging spinsters). It would of been a total surprise, then, if it were known what sort of thoughts he now dwelt upon beneath his amiable countenance.
The seed for these "thoughts" had been planted in his mind approximately two months ago. This occurred on a brisk morning when he pulled over, as usual, in the yellow school bus which was already half-way full of laughing and squealing students, to pick up Matilda. He opened the door of the bus for the pig-tailed girl and she leaped in quickly, smiling and, due to the cold, quite charmingly pink-cheeked.
As she hopped up the steps he noticed that, also due to the cold, her nipples were erect, each point showing blatantly through the flimsy white blouse of her uniform. With each hop up the steps, three steps in all, her erect nipples bobbed at him upon their slightly swelling mounds.
After the girl and he exchanged their customary greetings, he paused before driving on in order to watch her progress in the rear-view mirror towards the back of the bus. Her legs, which he had always ("always" being the nine years he had known the child) considered to resemble two sticks, now appeared to of taken on a shapely and now attractively slender cast. His probing eyes discerned a sense of curviness beneath the obstacle of her pleated skirt. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away from her retreating reflection and geared the bus up.
He felt confused at the sensation in his groin which Matilda's budding maturity had provoked.
For a month or so thereafter, Mr. Kemp would not allow himself to dwell upon the changes which were taking place in Matilda's body. At least he tried not to, but time after time he found himself thinking about the tender young mounds rising gently up off of her chest. Whenever he caught himself entertaining this thought, he'd immediately start to briskly apply himself to some manual task or other. He whistled, hummed, and went out of his way to be even more cheerful than usual in an inevitably futile attempt to return to his former innocence. After all, for twenty years he had been surrounded by pubescent girls without once giving thought to anything sexual in their regards. He considered himself (as did the rest of the school) to be a combination of "father", "brother", and bosom buddy (which he rapidly changed to "good" buddy when he thought this) to the students.
But he was now getting a hint of an erection whenever the yellow school bus rounded the corner and made its way over to where Matilda waited faithfully for him. The door of the bus would open and she would first glance up at him with her trusting brown eyes (such eyes! Just like the proverbial fawn's, puppy dog's, ad infinitum on cute brown-eyed animals). Then she would look back down as she mounted the steps of the bus, jumping lightly onto each one with her breasts bouncing ever so subtly and sensuously at him.
He couldn't help it, he just could not ignore the firm young body. He could not-would not-avert his eyes.
He then attempted to pretend that the feeling Matilda aroused in him was merely friendly concern. It really was, he told himself, very shocking that the girl's mother did not buy her daughter a bra in order to corral her breasts. Breasts! His thoughts darted back to the memory of her erect nipples on that cold morning. Yes, it was shocking and a disgrace that a girl from a good family was not properly clad to go out in public. The unmuzzled ... chest ... was offensive and really, the girl herself ought to notice and not go jumping around all the time. It's dangerous, some disgusting man might see the small breasts and try to-try to what? Touch them? But this thought caused him to abruptly return his attention back to the floor he was mopping.
Nevertheless, despite all of the rationals which Mr. Kemp manufactured to explain away these thoughts, the intensity of the feelings the unsuspecting Matilda aroused in him were too overwhelming to be denied for long. His subconscious desire for Matilda had not only persisted but had also grown even stronger over the months. His moment of coming face to face with the truth of these sexual feelings happened one sunny day during the lunch hour when he was planting little marigolds in the school yard. There he was, diligently working on his hands and knees when two slender ankles swallowed up in clumsy oxfords appeared in his peripheral vision and he heard, "Ooooh, what are they? How pretty!"
"Why, they're marigolds." He finished patting the earth around one before looking up. There above him stood Matilda. Some of her light-brown hair had pulled loose from her braids and the escaped tendrils framed her face in soft curls. Her delicate mouth was opened slightly as she inspected the flowers and he could see a little bit of her pink tongue.
Upon realizing who he was talking to he felt his stomach, his heart, actually all of his innards, lurch violently. The blood rushed to his face and he looked back down in a brief moment of uncontrollable embarrassment and confusion.
"Marigolds!" she exclaimed and knelt down beside him for a closer look. Now for two months Mr. Kemp had tempered his life to viewing her briefly around the school from afar. For instance, he kept watch of the firm, shapely buttocks straining in her gym shorts and, of course, the faintly discernible bouncing of her developing breasts as she ran during p.e. class. Also, at school assemblies he always glanced casually around to see where she was sitting. Then there was the picking up and letting off of her from the school bus five days a week. This bus ride to and from school was the most exciting of all as she would say "hello" and "goodbye" to him-directly to him!
Yet, he had also managed to successfully deny to himself how exciting and erotic the mere thought of this child was to him. Now here she was, crouched beside him and he felt frozen and awkward and overwhelmingly aware of her presence.
"May I plant one?" she asked turning towards him. He mutely nodded. He wondered if she noticed how distressed he was. But no, apparently not as the child yelped delightedly at his affirmative answer and then redirected her gaze downwards to find the prettiest of the remaining flowers to plant.
He swallowed with difficulty and ran his tongue over his thickish lips. He glanced over to her face and then back down to the ground. Her smooth cheek in such close proximity gave cause for him to experience one more, though somewhat less violent, internal lurch.
"I'll plant this one, Mr. Kemp, okay?" she continued on without pause, "How do I do it?"
Amazingly enough, he found himself able to explain the transplanting process to her in a voice which did not crack or stumble over the words. He watched her small, long-fingered hands as she followed his directions. When she had finished planting the marigold, she bent over for a closer look at the blossom.
He watched, transfixed, his eyes darting down the exposed front of her blouse where he could see the beginnings of the swells of her smooth breasts. She bent down even lower and, for a split second, he was granted the vision of both small and softly-pink nipples before she sat up and said, "Gee, thanks Mr. Kemp!"
Then in response to a call from one of her friends from across the yard, she leaped up and ran off. He was treated to a further glimpse of her anatomy as her skirt flounced out due to her hurry and he saw white panties nearly, but not quite, containing her round bottom.
The lunch hour ended shortly thereafter and Mr. Kemp stood up somewhat stiffly and went inside the building, holding his box of garden tools in front of himself. Directly, without even looking from left or right, he proceeded towards the men's room and total privacy.
The sight of those pink little nipples had triggered off all of his heretofore repressed desires and he did not stop to intellectualize and rationalize. He did not think to think after locking himself safely away in the men's room as with trembling hands he unzipped his pants in order to free the tremendous erection which those nipples had innocently and generously given him.
He leaned back against the bathroom wall and proceeded to grasp his penis which almost immediately exploded with the relief it'd been begging for for nigh on two months. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the intense pleasure his orgasm had caused him.
Uncensored pictures flew through his mind of Matilda's erect nipples under her blouse on that memorable cold day, of her slender thighs and curvy hips in her gym shorts, and of her little bare breasts so tantalizingly close to his face only moments ago.
Then, unbidden, he found himself erect again and here he paused and regained sense enough to wonder in surprise as it had been years, ten at least, since he had been capable of achieving an erection so quickly after orgasm. He long ago had placidly accepted his more flacidly behaving penis along with his retreating hairline and advancing waistline as all being indicative of middle-age. He opened his eyes and looked at his large swollen cock pulsing so shamelessly in his hands. He squeezed it and it bucked as a serge of blood swelled it up even larger.
Once more he leaned back, shut his eyes, and lost all control over his thoughts. He climaxed powerfully, accompanied by the mental image of those long-forbidden breasts.
After this second release he remained in the same position against the bathroom wall, eyes closed, and his penis nestling contentedly in his hand looking very innocent except for a tell-tale drop of sperm on its tip. A few minutes of intense bliss passed before he opened his eyes and, somewhat dazedly, closed the lid of the toilet, and then eased himself down onto it. He sighed and smiled faintly to himself.
It wasn't until his undirected and rambling gaze made the unhappy discovery that a long ooze of sperm had brazenly settled itself rather sloppily inside of his garden tool box that he snapped back into his immediate reality.
As he stood at the sink, all neatly rezippered, washing up his violated garden tools, he gave himself conscious permission to think about Matilda. "But only think, of course," he added primly in order to help reconcile himself to this relatively radical attitude change. He still could be a father, a brother, and a "good" buddy to the girls, he reasoned, along with being a closet "bosom" buddy towards Matilda.
Why not? The mere thought of the young girl gave him more pleasure than the sum-come total of his nineteen-year old marriage. At least, this was how he rationalized it to himself, if rather unfairly in regards to his wife. It must be remembered, however, that Mr. Kemp was not at all used to having active sexual desires. His self-inflicted taboo about Matilda had ostensibly served to glamorize and heighten the importance and strength of what would've been to other men just a basically fleeting and healthy sexual feeling. He had, in essence, created for himself a strong monster of compulsive-obsession (to be Freudian) about the thus far ignorant and innocent girl.
But is it true that ignorance is bliss? That remains to be seen, or perhaps "obscene", in Matilda's case. The question, however, to be next explored is; is Matilda really all that innocent?
In order to begin to answer this question, another question shall be asked; why was the very back of the bus Matilda's favorite place to sit? Not a too particularly intriguing query, to be sure, but the answer does reveal an insight into the girl's personal and private state of mind.
Throughout the years of attending Hillgart Academy for Girls, Matilda had sought to break the monotony of riding the same vehicle along the same route to the same destination by experimenting with various seats on the bus. For a very long while, for instance, Matilda had definitely favored the seat up front by the door where she had an unobstructed view of the road. Another seat, which maintained its first priority status for a notable amount of time, was the sixth seat back from the driver. The only reason for this choice was Matilda's stubbornly adhered to 'pity' for such a basically neutral seat. She then went through a phase of extreme promiscuity, actually sitting in a different seat each day. Perhaps one seat would be favored for several days, sometimes for as much as two weeks, before she would indifferently move on to a new one.
This phase went on until one day, when she was closer to fourteen years than not, she discovered that it really wasn't where one sat on the bus that was important, it was rather how one sat on the bus that counted.
This miraculous realization came about one dreary day as Matilda sprawled on a seat with her legs spread in a most unlady-like position. This posture, combined with leaning forward a bit to hear what her friend in the seat in front of her had to say, caused such intense and heretofore unfelt sensations in the region of the girl's crotch that she deemed it necessary to re-shift her seating when her friend, puzzled by Matilda's bizarre facial expression and lack of verbal response, asked if anything was the matter.
Without knowing exactly what she had felt on that fateful day, she thought it best not to talk about the matter to anyone until she had explored it further. This she proceeded to undertake the very next day and everyday thereafter in the very rear of the bus where, not only was the rude positioning of her legs less-likely to be observed by the others, but the motion of the bus was most decidedly much more pronounced and hence conducive to her cause.
Yet it wasn't until this discovery, of motion plus crotch equals pleasure, was applied with the means of an electric toothbrush, in lieu of the bus, that Matilda actually experienced an orgasm.
She didn't discover the duo purpose of this appliance on her own, however. For a few years she had been aware that her elder (by three years) sister was in the habit of brushing her teeth often and very thoroughly-taking much more time than most people-and most decidedly only in the strictest privacy maintained via the lock on the bathroom door. All attempts to get into the bathroom during her sister Eloise's dental hygiene sessions were not received at all graciously by the latter. Matilda reserved a lot of quiet respect for her sister as she solemnly figured, due to all of the subdued groaning she had heard on many an occasion through the bathroom door, that her sister went through a lot of pain in order to maintain a clean bill of health from the dentist.
Her image of her sister Eloise's having the freshest mouth in town tumbled off of its ivory-tooth pedestal one day about six months after her insight into how-not-to-be-bored-going-to-and-from-school-on-the-bus.
She arrived home from school all keyed up, as usual, from the ride. On this day, the intense pain/pleasure between her legs was stronger than usual and she felt as if she could hardly walk. She fidgeted around so much in the kitchen that her mother finally asked her very irritably if she had to use the bathroom, or what was her problem, and why didn't she go outside and play?
Matilda went up the stairs to her room, confused about the fact that the "feeling" wasn't lessening as usual. Her crotch felt moist and she thought that she'd best check to see just what was going on inside her pants.
She moved slowly and carefully, like an aging crab, towards the bathroom door. Her footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet, hence her approach was unheeded by her sister who was in the bathroom continuing her diligent crusade against cavities. This fact Matilda ascertained due to the merry hum of the electric toothbrush through the door. She paused and then decided half-heartedly to try the bathroom door on the slight chance that it wouldn't be locked.
It wasn't! She turned the knob on the door slowly and hesitantly, afraid of her sister's anger and yet, at the same time, curious as to what the big secret was about her brushing her teeth.
As the door opened up, it revealed Eloise using the toothbrush in a very unorthodox manner. Her sister was lying naked on the bathmat and was applying the electric toothbrush (just the base of it as the brush itself maintained its dignity up in the rack) to her exposed crotch.
Matilda stared in fascination as she was receiving a direct view of her sister's "Cunt", she mouthed the word silently, savoring its power to shock. Her sister took the buzzing toothbrush away momentarily in order to reposition it and Matilda gasped when she gleaned her first glimpse of adult female genitalia. It was composed of glistening, intricate, and mysterious looking redish-purple folds which were further complicated by the seemingly vast quantity of dark and curling pubic hair.
Rather than being appalled by this startling apparition, Matilda was fascinated. As a matter-of-fact, very fascinated as the tension in her own cunt intensified slightly, reminding her sharply that something was amiss.
She scarcely blinked as she gazed upon the cream-colored body of her older sister undulating to the rhythm of the motor in the toothbrush. Her eyes were closed and Matilda gaped awe-stricken at the blatant sexuality her sister was presenting. Eloise's delicately shaped mouth was parted and occasionally she drew her lips slightly back up over her white teeth in an animal-like grimace (which Matilda later practiced in front of a mirror as she admired the effect of passion it portrayed).
Her breasts heaved suddenly and Matilda felt alarmed for a few moments as she watched her sister contract the muscles in her firm and slender thighs. Her head turned back and forth violently from side to side and from between her clenched teeth, Matilda at last visually witnessed her sister's moan.
Eloise switched the electric toothbrush off and lay still with her eyes closed, breathing deeply. Matilda didn't take this opportunity, as she knew she should, to back out of the bathroom and gently close the door on what she realized she shouldn't of seen. But the feeling between her tensely closed thighs held her there as her eyes took in the sight of her sister's well-proportioned breasts with their strawberry-milk hued nipples pointing slightly to either side.
She wanted to touch her sister and, rather hypnotically, she moved forward. Eloise's eyes flew open as did her mouth and she let out a strangled, gurgling sound before her voice recovered itself sufficiently enough to hiss out, "You little bitch!" She quickly gathered a towel around herself and her long legs carried her rapidly out of the bathroom and down the hall to her room where she slammed the door savagely after herself.
Matilda gazed after her sister longingly, wishing that she could of, maybe just stroked her breasts once to see what they felt like. The 'pain' between her legs, though, caused her to turn her attention towards seeking to comfort her misery. She slipped her hand up her skirt and down into her underpants where she grasped at her crotch. An incredibly pleasurable spasm followed her touch only to be replaced by an even greater sensation of tension for Matilda. Then she, out of her own immediate necessity and without any clear and direct reasoning, pulled her underpants off, shut the door, and assumed the position she had seen her sister in with her slim legs spread wide.
Click, the electric toothbrush was on and she pressed it up hard against her bared crotch while her pelvis strained forward to greedily get as much stimulation as possible.
What was happening? A strong sensation of ecstasy broke through and it felt as if all of her tension was gathered up and up in a dizzying surge of energy, up and up and up until ... until-a split second of no thoughts or consciously realized feelings-then pow! She felt an explosion of excruciating pleasure rock her body in a series of rapid jolts.
Suddenly, the electric toothbrush was snatched out of her fist and a hand clamped itself tightly over her mouth.
"Will you shut up? What are you trying to do? Get into trouble with Mom and have her take away the toothbrush?"
Matilda looked dreamily up at the anxious face of her sister and shook her head dazedly, overwhelmed by the experience of her first orgasm though she was not aware, really, of what exactly it was that had felt so good.
"Will you be quiet?"
Matilda nodded yes and Eloise took her hand away and stood up. She shut the bathroom door and locked it resolutely. Then she busied herself by unplugging and washing the blessed toothbrush expertly. Matilda watched for a few seconds and then closed her eyes with a faint sigh of contentment. A tiny smile played at the corners of her lips. She was unaware that her sister was now unabashedly staring down into the downy softness of her groin.
Eloise made the classical comparison of her sister's delicate cleft with that of a peach. As she looked, her facial expression softened from its former harshness. She moistened her lips and shifted uncomfortably. Matilda's eyelids started to flutter open and Eloise turned away rapidly to finish cleaning off the electric toothbrush.
"Come on, get up and put your underwear on and get rid of that ass-hole look on your face! Jesus, it'd be obvious from a mile away what you just did."
Matilda complied, her brow now furrowed in thought. That evening she picked at her dinner and her mother and father both gave up trying, after several attempts, to snap her out of her dreamy state. She idled over her homework and finally it was time for bed. Her mother tucked her in and subjected her cheek to a wet, sloppy kiss which Matilda mechanically wiped off as soon as her parent turned out the light and left the room.
But she didn't feel sleepy yet as her curiosity had been evoked and was in full, insomnia-producing swing. She had to find out what that feeling' was all about. She saw that her sister's light was still on so she got up out of bed and crept stealthily over to her room. She stood in the doorway blinking in the subdued light of one lamp and she looked very frail in her pale blue cotton nightgown. Eloise was standing in front of her mirror plucking her eyebrows when she noticed the reflection of her little sister.
"Eloise, I've been thinking about today and...", she stumbled for the words. Eloise paused in her grooming endeavor, as she realized, because of the seriousness of Matilda's expression, that something was bothering her. She gently probed, "Yes?", instead of barking and yelling as usual. She too had been thinking about what had happened that afternoon and, for some unfathomable reason, she had found herself dwelling more than was really necessary upon what her little sister's privates looked like.
Matilda stepped into the room, encouraged by Eloise's non-hostile response. In the dim light of the room, the younger girl's face looked angelic and she practically seemed to radiate with virtue. This was an intriguing contrast with the image that was now firmly rooted in the very foreground of Eloise's mind of her little sister thrashing and groaning in the throes of self-induced orgasm. Being witness to such passion had actually aroused her very much but it was, obviously, a very touchy problem (in more ways than one) to figure out exactly how to seduce her sister. Well, not seduce her exactly, but just see her come again.
Eloise had formed some sort of vague notion of manually masturbating her little sister's "peach" as she had been referring to it in her mind all evening long. If anyone divining her thoughts had mentioned the terminology "incest" or "lesbianism" to her she would of been scandalized and would of haughtily denied the charges. She dismissed her rather perverse desire towards Matilda as only being idle curiosity to see her little sister come again.
She felt that the matter was rather parallel to the time she had (for five dollars when she was a lot younger) rubbed some strange man's dog's stomach behind some bushes at a park until, with a yelp, the animal had ejaculated. The man had merely watched quietly (although admittedly the glow in his eyes had frightened her) and no one had been hurt. It had even been kind of fun, Eloise thought, to see the dog, a scruffy poodle, spurt out his little wad.
Rather timidly, not knowing quite what to say, Matilda asked, "The electric toothbrush ... I mean, does it always feel ... good? Is that why you use it a lot?"
Eloise stared at Matilda in amazement and then rolled her eyes upwards and exclaimed, "I don't believe it! Are you putting me on?"
Her little sister's hurt and surprised face mutely answered Eloise's question in the negative. "Well," said the elder sister smiling with a good deal of condescension, "It's about time you learned about sex. First, shut my door, will you?"
Matilda obediently turned to do so. Despite her lack of sexual information though, the expression on her face when she walked away to the door, was one of positively hopeful expectancy. She herself had thought an awful lot about her sister's nature and upward tilted breasts. She wanted to look at them closely and touch them. She hoped that Eloise would not be cranky, as she was so often now that she had broken up with her boyfriend.
When she turned back, with her wide fawn-eyed expression restored, she saw that her sister was perched somewhat awkwardly on the edge of her bed. She sat with her arms clenched tightly to her sides which further amplified the forward thrust of her breasts. Eloise held a book in her lap.
"This is all about the birds and the bees." She smiled wanly and, to Matilda's discerning eyes, somewhat nervously. "Come sit here," and she patted the bed beside her with an obviously feigned yawn to connote disinterest.
Matilda eagerly complied. They sat for a few seconds in silence and then Eloise, after a quick and guarded side-long glance at her sister, who was doing-likewise, expelled her breath somewhat noisily and said gruffly.
"Well, anyway read this. It'll tell you all you need to know."
Matilda realized disappointedly that Eloise was going to end the conversation right then and there unless ... Matilda moved over so that their thighs touched.
"like what will this book teach me?" She reached over and took the well-worn book out of her sister's lap. As she did so she somewhat inadvertently moved her hand along the upper part of Eloise's thigh and across the dark mound she could see slightly through the pale green. A faint "Mmmmmm" escaped from Eloise and Matilda felt a surge of ... triumph? She had, after all, caught her sister staring directly at her exposed cunt in the bathroom (though she had pretended that she hadn't) with more interest on her face than mere idle curiosity. She felt the" tension begin to build again between her legs and, whenever she moved, her clitoris throbbed like a tightly strung violin string which has been tapped slightly. Spontaneously she said.
"I really would like to use that electric toothbrush now!" and then waited apprehensively to see whether Eloise would get mad or sarcastic or ...
"Not now, Mom and Dad would hear from their bedroom ... you know," she took the book back again from Matilda and flipped through it 'til she found a diagram of a woman's genitalia. "You know," she said again softly, "Why it feels good to ... you know, with the toothbrush?"
"Why?" Matilda squirmed.
"Here's why-this thing, organ, called the clitoris. It is one hell of a powerful ... , " she trailed off, embarrassed. She had had a spur of the moment change of heart (or rather nerves) about jerking off Matilda and yet she was reluctant to send her little sister safely back to her room to read the sex education book. It felt good-too damn good!-sitting so close to her with her warm little thigh pressed up to hers.
"Maybe I could sneak the toothbrush out of the bathroom?", blurted out Matilda.
"No," Eloise replied slowly, "You don't really need the toothbrush."
"I feel like I do!", exclaimed the little sister miserably squirming even more.
"Do it yourself."
"What? How?"
"Rub yourself with your hand, silly, how do you think people did it, 'masturbated', to use the technical word, before the invention of electric toothbrushes?"
"Just rub myself? like this?", Matilda, unable to, unwilling to, control her urges any longer lay back on the bed and pulled her nightgown up to her waist exposing her splendid, lightly-haired cleft. She reached one skinny arm down and began to rub herself enthusiastically.
"No, you're being too rough, you'll hurt yourself," said Eloise trying hard to sound calm despite the intense sexual arousal she felt at the sight of her sister's delicate cunt, "You'd better let me do it!" And as a hurried afterthought, "Just to show you how, of course, and then you do it."
Matilda gratefully ceased her frantic and inept attempts at autoerotica and laid back in total relaxation with her eyes half-way closed. Eloise reached over and directed all of her attention to this new play toy. Her hand first massaged her sister's smooth thighs, stroking up and down them. She stroked up far enough in order to barely touch Matilda's throbbing cunt and then slowly and teasingly back down the curve of her thighs.
The little sister reached out a hand and placed it lightly upon the older girl's breast. She paused a moment to test for any possible negative reaction, but the breast was pressed back against her hand eagerly. Eagerly!
"Eloise, take off your nightie." The pale green material floated to the floor and it was soon followed by the pale blue of Matilda's gown. As Matilda caressed and gently squeezed her sister's pert breasts, which were both now sporting sassily erect nipples, Eloise finally allowed herself to become more intimate with the tender and enticing downy cunt. Matilda moaned softly and her curvy hips began to undulate slowly and sensuously as if they were dancing and following the lead of her sister's tantalizing fingers.
"More!", whispered Matilda. She closed her eyes tightly. "Faster!", she whispered and her hands pulled back and ceased their play with her sister's breasts. Suddenly she clenched her fists and her face tightened up too as she began to climax. She started to moan louder and louder as her ecstasy peaked. In order to stifle the sound of her sister's unashamedly expressed orgasm, Eloise placed her lips tightly over Matilda's, while her hand continued and finished off the explosive orgasm.
Eloise was by now so greatly excited by her sister's cunt, by the sight of her sister's small, well-shaped breasts, and by the fact that her own breasts had been massaged so erotically and sensuously by Matilda's little hands, that her whole body trembled with desire.
The two sister's kissed deeply and probingly until the elder straddled the other's thigh and began to rub her cunt up against it.
"No, you don't have to do that," murmured Matilda pulling back from her sister's gently sucking mouth, "You gave me mine and now I want to give you yours!"
With this statement of noble intent, she reached into the furry and mysterious grotto between her sister's parted thighs and began to grope around.
"Darn, I'm not certain where to touch," she cried in dismay. Eloise took her hand and tried to guide her but Matilda's fingers were too stiff and inexperienced to give any pleasure to her sister.
"Let me do it," cried Eloise, who had grown desperate for the release of orgasm, "But please kiss me again."
Right before placing her soft lips back onto her sister's, Matilda suddenly sat back up and said, "I've an idea!" Eloise moaned and lay still. She decided to try very hard to wait and humor her sister despite the powerful orgasm which she was so close to that it would only take a few strokes from her fingers to set it free. Matilda picked up the sex education book from where it had fallen unnoticed onto the floor and turned rapidly to the diagram depicting the female genitalia. Then, assuming a very studious expression, she proceeded to compare the sketch with the real McCoy of her sister's sizzling cunt.
"There!", cried Matilda exuberantly, 'There's your clitoris!" And she touched the small pink jewel which peeked out coyly from a thick patch of pubic hair. Eloise sighed throatily. The little sister paused and stared intently at her sister's cunt, her face only a few inches away from it. She was surprised that its odor not only did not repel her but that she actually liked it. On a sudden impulse, she nestled her face deeply into the warm and wet pussy and began to kiss the tiny pink organ of the clitoris. This intensified Eloise's frenzy markedly.
"Please," she gasped, "Use your ... tongue, ooh ... ooh ... ooo aaa hhHH!", and at long last, Eloise came powerfully. When her ecstasy was finally over with, she sighed and relaxed into blissful peacefulness in the arms of her sister.
CHAPTER TWO
After this experience with her sister, sex became of paramount interest to Matilda. She began to spend a good deal of time at the library reading books on the subject. She did this surreptitiously as she did not want the librarian to notice and then report this fact to her Mother as she no doubt would of. However, the library only offered sex education books, much like the one her sister Eloise had lent her, and she soon grew bored reading about the-likes of Fallopian tubes and sperm.
As for Eloise, she had become very cold towards Matilda after their one night of passion for she had gotten back together with her boyfriend. Hence, Matilda could not turn to her sister for any further enlightenment on this new and intriguing topic of sex.
Matilda, after a good deal of asking around, discovered that her friends were even more in the dark about sex than she was. Nevertheless, she was undaunted and she bravely continued in her crusade for information.
One day after school she felt extremely restless, too restless to even take the time to masturbate as had become her daily habit. She decided to meander on over to the neighborhood magazine shop and buy some gum in the hopes of at least partially easing her boredom.
At the magazine store she stood in front of the candy stand for a long time lingering over the excruciatingly difficult decision between buying cinnamon gum or super-duper peppermint gum. After weighing the pros and cons of both, she suddenly opted for cherry flavor, which was more appropriate in her case anyway.
She had to clear her throat several times rather noisily before the fat, cigar-smoking man behind the counter put the paper down that he was reading and took her money for the gum. He then immediately dismissed her existence with a vague grunt and stuck his head back into the newspaper.
As Matilda fumbled to unwrap a piece of gum, she wandered towards the back of the shop to where she saw a rack of books. She had never thoroughly perused this store before so she decided to do so now. She had nothing else to do before returning home to the unforgivable insult of homework.
No other customers were in the smallish store when Matilda discovered her jackpot-a whole rack of dirty books! She stood transfixed with her mouth stopped wide-open in mid-chew. Then slowly, hesitatingly, she picked up one book entitled, Naked Nancy. On the cover it had a picture of a blonde woman with overly large luminescently red lips who was wearing nothing but a towel draped around her in all of the 'necessary' places.
Matilda glanced furtively over her shoulder at the man. His broad back was all she saw through the haze of his cigar smoke as he continued in his perusal of the paper. She then turned back to the book and opened it up to the middle to read:
"The sailor pushed her back onto the bed and savagely ripped her black lace panties off and then mounted her before she could protest. He fucked her lustfully, barking like a seal in his zeal."
Matilda slammed the book shut. Her heart pounded and she felt the blood rush to her face. She stared straight ahead, unseeing, in total shock. A little zing of electricity traveled directly to her crotch, and she felt a wave of sexual arousal wash warmly up through her abdomen.
She had to have this book! Those two sentences she had read had affected her more than the total number of books on sex at the public library.
She again turned and scrutinized the man behind the counter, her opponent, her obstacle to obtaining nirvana. On several occasions in the recent past, at various stores, she had started to flip through men's nudie magazines only to have her efforts thwarted by an angry clerk. Hence, she realized that the chances were against her being able to buy the book. She cogitated for awhile, pondering various answers to her dilemma:
"My father sent me to buy it."
"I'm supposed to do a book report on it for school."
"It'll look just perfect in my bookshelf as it's color-coordinated to my room."
This latter alibi was especially weak considering the undeniable fact that the book cover was puke-green.
Matilda sighed and sadly put the book back up on the rack. She dejectedly started to leave and then she paused and looked back. Naked Nancy's red lips beckoned her seductively and she was drawn back to the book rack as if she were being called by a Siren.
It was, after all, worth a try. What was the worse thing that could possibly happen? When the man saw what book she wanted to buy, she hypothesized, he'd perhaps leap up and scream, all frothy-mouthed.
"That's disgusting. That's disgustingly sick, sick, sick and you must be a desperately disturbed girl to want such filth-I'm calling your parents and the police and I'm going to pass out pictures of you to all of the other store owners so they won't let you do any of your revolting business with them!"
However, after clearing her throat timidly a few times, the fat man emerged from behind his newspaper irritably only long enough to give her change. He didn't even take the time to glance at her with his bloodshot eyes. She couldn't believe it, the book was hers! She tucked it discreetly underneath her sweater and ran all the way home, energized by her incredible luck and by her intense anticipation as to what this book was going to teach her.
Needless to say, she didn't get much homework done that night. And for many nights following she read and reread the parts she liked best. There was one scene she liked so well that after awhile Naked Nancy would automatically fall open up to it: "It happened on one hot summer day when he looked out of his window and noticed with a start that his attractive neighbor across the way was sitting in her window fanning herself and wearing nothing but her brassiere and panties. He ransacked his room frantically and was soon planted back in front of his window now training a pair of binoculars directly upon the heedless young woman. He had seen her often on the street and had been attracted to her full-busted figure which she always kept well covered in dressed which practically buttoned all the way up to her chin. Even the times he had seen her in her window she had always been armored to the teeth in her prim dresses. He had rather ruefully categorized her as being an unobtainable prude, though he always noticed her.
"Such large, well-rounded tits, it'd be hard not to notice her despite what she wore.
"And his cock was now hard as he noticed what she wasn't wearing.
'Through the binoculars he stared intently at her breasts which seemed to be close to winning the battle against staying constrained in the flimsy white brassiere. They swelled lusciously up out of the lace cups. His cock, too, was struggling against the sudden confinement of his pants and he groped with one hand to unzip his trousers to aid his throbbing member in its endeavor.
"His eyes traveled down to where her waist curved in and he wondered why she always wore clothes which hid the tinyness of it. Her perfect 'hour-glass figure,' as he appraised it, would've done justice to the scantiest of bikinis. His cock throbbed its agreement to this thought.
"He watched as she put the fan down and then stretched her arms way up over her head as she yawned in the heat of the day. The movement of her arms, however, caused one of the thin straps on her brassiere to break and one large round breast popped out, triumphantly showing its white face to the world. Of course, her hands flew up to attempt to hide the enormous nipple which looked like a neon light to him as it was so amazingly red.
"With one hand still holding the binoculars, his other hand grasped his enlarged, blood-gorged cock and started to knead it in his need.
"Across the way his neighbor, for some unknown reason, perhaps it was the heat, not only gave up trying to recapture her escaped breast but she actually reached behind her back, undid the clasp, and removed her brassiere altogether.
"He moaned as he rubbed his incredibly stiff rod harder and faster.
"Her breasts were so mammoth and yet they retained a uniform round shape as they protruded out firmly. The law of gravity had certainly made an exception in these tits' cases!
"Then he gasped, for she had slid one hand down into her panties and had placed it over the dark area between her legs which he could barely see through the white material. She was touching her cunt!
"His cock could barely contain its excitement as he frantically stepped up his jerking-off tempo.
"She herself started to fumble beneath the silky white material of her panties. Then she stood up and pulled her panties off and he had a splendid view of her dark brown, incredibly furry cunt. The hair rambled in wanton growth up the smoothness of her belly.
"Then she turned around and he hungrily watched her large solid ass as she walked off into the darkness of her room presumably to finish off what her fingers had aroused in her cunt.
"He didn't know and didn't really care what she did next as his overwrought cock simply exploded in its joyous throes of ecstasy." Yes, Matilda definitely liked the idea of that stiff prick. She liked it a lot. She fantasized a good deal about what it would feel like to have a large, hard cock inside of her thus-far virginal pussy. The book, Naked Nancy, gave her all sorts of "raw" material to think about. She became even more preoccupied with sex and wondered when, if ever, she'd get laid properly by a man.
One day, about three weeks or so after Matilda's acquirement of the book, she came home from school and, as usual, took Naked Nancy out from its hiding place underneath her mattress and skimmed through the "hot parts" until her "part" was "hot." She got up out of the chair where she'd been sitting and went over and stood in front of her floor-length mirror. She looked at herself critically. You know maybe, just maybe she wasn't so bad looking after all? It was difficult to see the developing womanliness of her body through her school uniform so, on an impulse, she wiggled out of her clothes. She stood shyly, blushing, in front of the mirror totally nude-something which she had never been brazen enough to do before.
She looked at her body in amazement-she was beautiful, she was a woman! Her delicate cone-shaped breasts were fuller and rounder than she had given them credit for and her pink nipples were in perfect proportion to the smooth white mounds that supported them. She was particularly entranced by the erotic curve of her waist to her hips and she ran her hands slowly down her sides again and again to feel the sensuous transition from flatness to roundness. Between her legs there was a dab of light brown hair which rather resembled some moss she had once seen growing on a tree. She gaped, hardly daring to believe that she could possibly of ceased being a plain little girl and had turned into an attractive young lady. She had acquired such nice new accessories to her body that she felt as excited as if it were Christmas day!
She opened her thighs and looked into the depths of her crotch. There was the pink flap of skin with which she was, by now, very familiar with by touch but not by sight. She touched it fondly and immediately that old magic tingling sensation zapped its way through her body. She shivered, touched it again, and the pleasant shock was repeated.
Suddenly a knock sounded on her closed bedroom door and Matilda jumped guiltily. Her first impulse was to run and hide in her closet. But she just stood in front of the mirror with her heart beating rapidly and called out, "Who is it?"
"The gardener," a man's voice replied. He explained, "Your mother sent me up to ask your opinion on what type of flowers should be planted along side of the house."
Matilda snatched up her discarded clothes from the floor and threw them into the closet. She quickly pulled her bathrobe on and, instead of taking the time to button it, she tied a belt around it somewhat loosely.
She glanced into her mirror once again. Her cheeks were flushed and her large brown eyes looked bright and wild. She breathed deeply in order to help calm herself. She felt especially jittery as for the whole year that the gardener had worked for her family, she had always found him to be extremely attractive. She called out, "Come in."
The door opened and in stepped the gardener, a man of about twenty-five. He had longish wavy dark brown hair. His face was composed of clean-cut features which had, at the same time, a hint of manly ruggedness about them. This manly effect was aided by the fact that he was sporting the growth of a two-day old beard. His eyes were of an intense blue and Matilda felt too overwhelmed, after meeting his piercing gaze, to keep looking at his face. Her eyes dropped down past his broad, muscular shoulders and came to rest momentarily upon his slender hips and the fascinating bulge she could discern between his legs. She gulped and felt a strong sensation between her own legs. She then scrutinized the fingernails on one of her hands intently, fighting an internal battle of nervousness. That bulge between his legs!
"Your mother," began the gardener, all business and yet with a friendly tone, "thinks that nasturtiums would be nice. What do you think?" And he smiled, baring his straight white teeth at her in a grin which practically glowed in contrast to his tan face.
Matilda gathered her courage up enough to reply, "How about marigolds?" She felt somewhat authoritative about this type of flower, having had the aforementioned experience of planting one at her school.
The gardener nodded and started to leave the room when, oops!, clumsy Matilda "accidentally" knocked a jar of pencils off of the table she was standing by.
"Oh dear!" she exclaimed and bent down to retrieve the errant pencils. The gardener paused and then he shrugged good-naturedly and came over to help her.
Matilda's belt slipped without her feeling it.
"There," she said and put the jar of regathered pencils back up onto the table. She wondered why the gardener was staring at her.
She looked down and saw that one white breast was peeking out coyly through her robe.
"Oh," she giggled blushing, "You naughty thing! You mustn't let the gardener see you!"
She bent down to pick her belt up from the floor. In doing so the other breast was shown.
"I'm terribly sorry," Matilda said to the gardener. He was still staring. Again she looked down.
"Oh no!" she cried, "Both of them now."
"I don't mind," the gardener said with his blue eyes still riveted intently on her luscious breasts, "Why don't you introduce me to your two friends?"
And Matilda, giggling again and unable to fully believe what she was doing, sat down on her bed. She had just given the gardener the green light.
A lustful leer spread across his handsome face and he shut her bedroom door quietly before sauntering suggestively, with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, over to where she sat. She looked apprehensively; yet eagerly up at him with her desires clearly expressed on her face. He touched her lightly on one pert nipple. "How old are you?" he asked but from the way his pants were bulging now in the crotch it wouldn't of really made any difference what age she replied.
"Fourteen-nearly fifteen!" She pulled her soft, pouty lower lip in and started to chew on it anxiously. What if he said she was too young? What if he laughed at her breasts and told her they were too small? What if ... ?
But he sat down on the bed beside her and slid her robe off of her slim shoulders expertly before she even had a chance to change her mind about protecting her virtue. It was one thing to fantasize about sex with a man and it was another thing to actually have to deal with a flesh and blood male. She felt slightly dizzy as she realized how tiny she was in comparison with this hulking six-footer who had at least sixty-five pounds on her. She'd be crushed! Her pulse raced.
He put his hand on her knee and moved it up her smooth thigh. With his other hand he pushed her gently back onto the bed and began to kiss-her. It was a lot different than kissing the soft feminine lips of her sister! The rough feel of his beard bristles against the tender skin of her face thrilled her in the blatant manliness of it. She quickly responded to his deeply probing tongue. All the while, however, despite her passion, she also kept a critical and somewhat scientific attitude as to what was happening. This was it! This was the moment she'd been dreaming about!
A jolt of pleasure moved deliciously through her pelvis as his calloused hand made contact with the downy plushness of her pubic hair. He pushed his hand between her softly yielding thighs.
Then he pulled his lips away from hers and asked, "Does your door have a lock on it?"
Matilda shook her head impatiently. She didn't want to talk, she wanted him just to press his mouth firmly back onto hers.
He stood up suddenly and, undaunted by the lack of privacy insurance, began to undo his pants. Matilda laid out ready, in all of her young and naked glory, eagerly anticipating her first fuck. She could hardly wait and was somewhat terrified that something, or someone would interrupt their activities and she'd be deprived of ... deprived of ... there in front of her eyes she saw his erect member.
She gasped and felt afraid. It was so much larger than what she had pictured to herself. The only penis she had ever seen before had been an innocuous-looking, miniscule, pink, dinky thing dangling in a ludicrous fashion from her little brother.
She was therefore quite unprepared for the long, thick beet-red cock which the gardener had on proud display. But she didn't have much time to look as he was quickly back on top of the pubescent young girl.
He cupped her round breasts in his hands and Matilda luxuriated in the thought of feeling of this massive, handsome man touching her. He squeezed the budding orbs gently.
Matilda sighed.
He kissed his way down her outstretched throat, down her chest, and up the smooth mound of her breast until he reached her pertly erect left nipple. As he sucked on this delectable pink tip, Matilda groaned as her body tingled in response to his lips. She looked down to watch in wonder the dark wavy head as he sucked and she also enjoyed seeing his large hand caress her other breast. Her body looked so delightfully erotic to her as he stroked it.
Then he stopped and he moved his talented lips down along her stomach. He pushed her thighs apart with his hands. Then he looked up at her momentarily, his eyes twinkling in their approval of her young body, before plunging his face down into her luscious cleft. At the touch of his lips upon her cunt, Matilda's body really came alive. Her hips started to sway uncontrollably so he held onto them with his strong hands to still their motion as his tongue flicked maddeningly at her clitoris.
Suddenly he stopped and moved backup so that he was poised up over her. She reached up and placed her little hands onto his brown, muscular shoulders. He reached down and she felt something hard placed up against her activated cunt.
"You ready?" he murmured.
She nodded and held her breath, expecting the pain she had read virgins experience.
But all there was to it was a pushing sensation, then a quick, sharp pain. Matilda gasped and the gardener stopped, fully inside of her.
"You a virgin?" he asked in surprise.
"Well, not anymore," responded Matilda weakly in an attempt at humor.
"Should I continue?" he looked at her anxiously and earnestly.
By this time, Matilda's startled vagina had adapted itself to this large, hard intruder. The feeling of pain quickly abated and was replaced with a sensation of enjoyment. It felt good to have that huge cock inside of her and she was more than a little proud that she was woman enough to be able to accommodate it. She had had her doubts.
"Please don't stop!" she begged as she felt her cunt start to clamor for its orgasm.
He slowly raised his hips up until his cock was almost all the way out of her and then again slowly, testing her reaction, he reshafted himself in her.
"I love your tight little pussy," he whispered in her ear and then began to fuck her faster and faster. Each time he plunged into her cunt, he rubbed up against her, arousing her more and more. With each stroke of his hard cock she found herself rising higher and higher up to the level of orgasm. Her pelvis moved, at first somewhat awkwardly and then more in conjunction with his own rhythmic motion. She had read that the woman was supposed to move her hips during sexual intercourse and she cursed her lack of experience. But the gardener certainly didn't seem to care as he pumped away at her.
She reached her hands down his strong back and grasped his firm ass. As he fucked her, she delighted in the feel of the muscles contracting in each buttock. Faster and faster, his hips ground at her and both of them were now breathing erratically, their breaths drawn in and out in short little grunts and gasps. She closed her eyes and gave in to her rapidly approaching climax.
"Don't stop," she moaned, "Please don't stop!"
But there was little chance of him stopping now as he humped her lustfully. There, she reached the point of no return where she knew that orgasm was inevitable. He fucked her for a few more intense strokes before she cried out in her ecstasy and grasped his ass even tighter as she came. Realizing her orgasm, he fucked her even harder and then, with a mighty grunt, he stopped moving. She felt his cock contract inside of her and he gave an intense shiver and then lay still.
They laid together in silence. She had loved it. She had loved it all, and she rejoiced in not having been disappointed in the least. Her physical excitement died down with tiny little after-quake spasms in her vagina. She and the gardener breathed together with his large body pressed comfortingly on top of hers. She realized dazedly that he wasn't crushing her after all. But she was jolted out of her reverie, for the second time that day, by the sound of knocking on her bedroom door.
She and the gardener froze in each other's arms.
The knock sounded again.
"Matilda?"
"It's Kevin, my little brother," she stage-whispered to the petrified gardener who had been envisioning scenes of the girl's parents chasing him out of the house with a shot-gun. He nodded numbly and leaped up and started to pull his pants back on.
"Matilda," Kevin called again, "what're you doing in there? What's that noise?" and he started to open the door.
"Don't come in here!" Matilda shrieked but it was too late. Kevin had already stuck his freckled face inside the door and his eyes popped open wide at what he saw.
Matilda was standing in the middle of the room trying to hide her nakedness with a stuffed teddy bear.
CHAPTER THREE
The gardener was on the floor trying frantically to turn his trousers right side out.
The bed was a mess and pillows were strewn around the room.
Kevin stood and stared at this phantasmagoria scene.
Matilda tried the only tactic she knew might work, "If you leave and don't tell Mom or Dad or anyone else, I'll give you a dollar!"
The gardener piped up, "and I'll give you a buck too!"
Kevin nodded, totally speechless for once, to Matilda's amazement, and slowly he withdrew his head. His little brain was obviously trying desperately to absorb and compute what he'd just seen.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Matilda and the gardener immediately returned to their hectic activity of dressing. Soon, after a hurried, worried kiss, Matilda was left alone in her room.
* * *
Matilda walked around in a daze for the next few days. It seemed strange to her that her life was continuing normally after such an experience. It also was strange to her that no one seemed to notice that she was no longer a virgin. She even looked the same to herself in the mirror. The only definite indication to her that she had been fucked was in the fact that, for the first day afterwards, it had hurt slightly to sit down.
Matilda could hardly wait until she got her hands on the gardener again. Through a casual and roundabout method, she found out from her parents that the gardener was next scheduled to work in their yard two weeks hence. Two weeks! She could hardly stand to wait that long. Now that she knew what she was missing, she felt rather lonely and forlorn as she laid awake in her bed and thought about him night after night before going to sleep.
Her parents couldn't understand why she was moping around so much. On warm days she'd sit outside alongside the freshly planted nasturtium seedlings and would read poetry and look dreamy. She rationalized that the reason why the gardener didn't call her or try to see her was because he was afraid of her parents finding out.
She also knew a little something about its being illegal for an adult to have sex with a minor so she further excused her lover in his negligence. Since she had steadfastly made up her mind, after pondering the question for a minute or two, that she was in love with the gardener she vowed to wait and remain faithful to him. Her faithfulness to the young man meant, to Matilda, no covert rendezvous with the electric toothbrush or even with her own hand.
Day after day she strictly forbade herself to masturbate and instead she threw herself into abject martyrdom by concentrating intently on her schoolwork. She had to, after all, improve her mind so that she would be more up to par mentally with the gardener. It was also the only way she knew of "off-hand" to deal with her excess energy.
One afternoon into the second week of her vigil, she stayed after school as she had volunteered to help her home economics teacher set up the equipment for the next day's class on making white sauce. She had decided to sacrifice her time to doing this in order to show the gardener, just in case he called, that she had other things to do besides wait to hear from him.
She also decided to stay after because she liked her home economics teacher, Mrs. Silverman. Mrs. Silverman was a pleasingly plump middle-aged woman who was very friendly and chatty with her students. She often punctuated her cooking lectures with amusing anecdotes about her husband and children. She radiated a maternal warmth and took a good deal of loving time and care with her students.
As she and Mrs. Silverman set out the sauce pans and measuring cups, etc., Matilda made up her mind to confide her woes to her teacher. After all, this was one of the rare opportunities she had to be alone with Mrs. Silverman.
In the first conversational lull, Matilda blurted out, "How long does a person stay in jail for statutory rape?"
Mrs. Silverman stopped and stared at her pupil in surprise. The woman's face puffed up a bit in befuddlement.
"Why do you ask?" she countered, craftily seeking more information.
And Matilda simply exploded with her story about the gardener as she had kept her secret to herself for over a week. As the words poured out of her, Mrs. Silverman kept interrupting to ask some rather disconcerting questions, such as:
"Did you let him suck on your breasts? Oh? Did you like that?"
"Did he stick his tongue in your mouth? Did you stick yours in his?"
"Did he put his mouth on your pus ... er, between your legs? He did? Did that feel good to you?"
"Did you have an orgasm? Do you like having orgasms?"
And Matilda, despite her relief at finally being able to talk about what had been on her mind nonstop for nearly ages now, felt slightly uncomfortable with the intimate quality of Mrs. Silverman's questions. She was additionally unnerved by the strange glow on her teacher's face and the way in which the woman's eyes kept looking, or so it seemed, down at her chest. There appeared to be just something too eager in the manner in which Mrs. Silverman interrogated her. But Matilda couldn't quite place why the woman made her uncomfortable and so she continued in the verbal exchange, hoping that her feelings of malaise would soon dissipate.
Mrs. Silverman leaned towards Matilda and her already frog-like eyes bugged out even more in consternation. She placed her red-clawed hand on the child's.
"Was he ... gentle?"
Matilda shifted in her chair, distressed by the bizarre feeling she was getting from Mrs. Silverman. She had always felt so comfortable in her presence before, what was wrong?
Mrs. Silverman's eyes remained steadily on her confused and silent pupil.
"Why are you squirming around in your seat like that? The brute! He must of hurt you! Take down your panties and let me see."
A strange sensation of apprehension wafted its way up through Matilda's stomach. She hastily replied, "No, no! He didn't hurt me-he was most kind."
"I'll be the judge of that. Take down your panties and get up onto the table." The bulging eyes remained adamant.
Matilda felt almost sick in her dilemma. For some reason, the thought of Mrs. Silverman looking at her cunt upset her very much. She felt on the verge of tears.
"Young lady, do as you're told!"
Matilda jumped. She had never been addressed so sternly by her teacher before. She didn't know how to cope with this unsettling personality change. She resorted to tears, or rather, she yielded to the tears which welled up in her eyes.
But Mrs. Silverman remained unmoved.
"Get up onto the table now, young lady, and take your panties down!" There was a tense, monotonish quality to Mrs. Silverman's voice which the girl had never heard before. She was also puzzled by her teacher's use of the term 'young lady'. Mrs. Silverman never before had called her that.
With tears making crooked trails down her face, Matilda stood up fearfully to comply to the order.
Why didn't Mrs. Silverman comfort her and dry her tears as she normally would of? Instead, the matronly woman sat and watched the miserable girl aloofly. Aloof, and yet with a horrible gleam in those bulging eyes.
Matilda hesitantly reached up under her skirt and then resolutely, in order to get the whole ordeal over with quickly, pulled her underpants down and hopped up onto the table where she just sat with her skirt modestly covering her.
The woman stood up and came over to the trembling girl. Matilda looked like a cornered deer waiting for the hunter to shoot.
"Lie down," the cold voice demanded.
Matilda laid down and looked straight up at the ceiling. She clasped her arms about her middle as a form of self-comfort. She felt her skirt being lifted and there was such a long moment of silence that she shifted her suffering eyes downwards in order to see what was going on.
The dough-faced teacher was staring at her cunt hungrily. Matilda looked at her delicate, lightly-furred mound of Venus and then back up at her teacher's transfixed eyes.
The sight of the woman's fascination with her cunt was, from an objective point of view, actually very erotic. She felt a twinge of sexual excitement. She relaxed a bit in her fear of the change in Mrs. Silverman's character and began rather to enjoy the fact that her cunt was on display.
"You ... you," Matilda began hesitantly, surprised at her feelings of arousal, "You can't really tell if he hurt me or not, can you? Unless..." and she spread her legs slightly to get her meaning across as her words failed her.
Mrs. Silverman needed no other encouragement and she placed one red-nailed finger into the light brown curls of Matilda's pubic thatch. The girl kicked her panties off her feet so that she could spread her thighs wider. After nearly two whole weeks of no orgasm her clitoris was simply starved for attention.
Matilda sat propped up on her elbows in order to continue watching the show. Mrs. Silverman got down onto her knees on the floor rather awkwardly due to her age and weight. Then she parted the lips of the girl's cunt and continued to stare. The tension such attention awakened in Matilda caused her to involuntarily moan faintly. She was immediately appalled that she had committed such a faux pas.
What would Mrs. Silverman think?
But the teacher merely started to nuzzle her face in Matilda's soft pussy hair. She flicked the cunt lightly with her tongue. Then she raised her head up slightly and said rapidly, not meeting Matilda's eyes at all, "It's hard to tell if he did any damage by just looking. The human tongue is a lot more sensitive so I shall apply it thusly.
And then the woman stuck her face back firmly between the widely-spread thighs.
Now Matilda had garnered a modicum of sophistication from her thus far limited sexual experiences and so she realized what was actually going on much better than what Mrs. Silverman gave her credit for. The girl almost laughed out loud at the teacher's explanation for "eating" her "out", a term she had learned from reading Naked Nancy. She laid back down onto the table and shut her eyes in order to aid her climax by thinking about the gardener. As her orgasm approached, she argued with herself that she really wasn't being unfaithful. After all, when a teacher gives an order a good student really should obey.
When Matilda came, she nearly choked poor Mrs. Silverman by wrapping her legs tightly around the woman's neck. The girl then sat up and asked sprightly, still maintaining the innocence of the situation, "Well, am I damaged at all?"
As the home economics teacher shook her head, momentarily speechless as she rubbed her sore neck, Matilda stepped daintily back into her panties and pulled them up. She snapped the elastic of the waist band playfully and said, "I didn't think I was."
She then excused herself as it was growing rather late in the afternoon and she had to figure out how to get herself home as she had missed the school bus.
She felt somewhat guilty about leaving Mrs. Silverman so abruptly, but, after her own gratification, she had to get away from the strangeness of the situation.
Matilda wandered down the empty, echoing school hall and soon found herself outside blinking in the bright sunlight of the late afternoon. She felt sad and empty and anxious for some normal nonsexual human contact.
"Why, hello there!"
And she whirled around to see that it was Mr. Kemp, the school bus driver, who was addressing her. He grinned broadly at her.
Spontaneously, she broke into a wide smile back at him. Here was a friend! She really was upset by what had occurred between her and Mrs. Silverman. She certainly could never feel relaxed around her teacher again.
"I missed you on the bus today." His broad, red face continued to beam down at her.
"Yes, well," Matilda hedged blushing, "I had something to do after school." She still felt enough loyalty to Mrs. Silverman to want to protect her.
"Are you all done?"
When the girl nodded yeS, he further enquired, "How are you getting home?" She felt her spirits soar. Maybe he'd give her a ride! She replied casually, squinting down the long stretch of road, "I guess I'll walk." She held her breath, waiting hopefully.
"No need," Mr. Kemp scratched at his nose absent-mindedly, "I'll give you a lift in my car." She exhaled in a sigh of relief. "Thanks a bunch!"
She hadn't been looking forward to the lonely walk. It'd be nice to have the company of the cheerful Mr. Kemp, too, and she'd also arrive much more rapidly at home and the reassurance of her family.
They walked over to where he'd parked his car. Mr. Kemp whistled to himself as he unlocked the door and opened it for Matilda. She climbed in and made herself comfortable.
"What a swell guy that Mr. Kemp is," she thought.
As the car drove along the shady suburban streets in the pleasant light of the afternoon, Mr. Kemp kept the conversation flowing by asking Matilda about her family and classes. As she chattered away with her melodious little-girl voice, Mr. Kemp kept casting furtive side-long glances at her.
His cock was already at half-mast just because he was sitting by the young girl. His eyes minutely examined her to see how her puberty was progressing. Her breasts definitely were rounding out very evenly. The fact that Matilda's breasts were both growing at the same rate especially pleased him since his wife had sprouted disproportionate mammary glands. He used to joke with her that he was a very lucky man to have a wife like her since it was like having two different beautiful women to sleep with. On one day he could fondle the little breast and on another day he could experience fondling the large breast. But over the years, this idea had grown dull and now the thought of cupping two perfect breasts, one for each hand, was almost unbearably erotic.
"I think that I like my P.E. class best of all," Matilda said in response to one of Mr. Kemp's questions. As she went on to explain why, the bus driver thought about how, right at this very minute, the cells in the girl's breasts were multiplying. Right in his presence her breasts were busy expanding out, furthering their horizons, pushing towards new frontiers with their bright and eager little pink nipples.
At this point-or "points"-it would be obvious to say that Mr. Kemp could be called a "nipple-man". He simply could not get his mind off, though he certainly got his cock off, of Matilda's little rosebuds.
As the car approached the corner where Mr. Kemp usually picked up and let off the girl from the school bus, he suddenly was tempted just to keep on driving. Just to talk to the young thing a while longer, that's all. He liked listening to her talk and laugh with her silvery little elf-voice.
When the car cruised past the corner, Matilda broke off in mid-sentence to say, "Oh, here's where you stop, Mr. Kemp."
In his peripheral vision he spied her looking at his profile.
He replied evenly, "It's such a nice day, I thought that we'd go for a drive."
"Oh, okay," she said somewhat uncertainly and turned to contemplate the road.
He soon had her talking again when he asked her about her plans for the upcoming summer vacation.
He guided the car along up into the hills where, he explained, they could look at the view. He reflected to himself on how he felt like he was out on a date. He had a fluttery sensation in his belly.
As they drove along, they both enjoyed the country atmosphere which the hills boasted. There weren't any houses or cars in sight. Mr. Kemp finally parked on a ridge overlooking a valley. They sat for a few minutes in silence listening to the buzzing hum of the insects.
"Really Mr. Kemp," the girl exclaimed for about the fourth time, "I feel like I'm out in the country."
Mr. Kemp mentally thought of her latter word as being 'cuntry'. He admonished himself for thinking such lurid things about Matilda, as she innocently jabbered away, only served to pump a little more blood into his cock. He kept his hands in his lap, hoping the little girl wouldn't notice the slowly-inflating bulge in his pants.
Matilda was far from being an imperceptive child. But she had known Mr. Kemp for years as a friend and the idea of sex simply did not exist in her perception of him. She therefore had no idea whatsoever that Mr. Kemp was fighting a losing battle in his mind in regards to molesting her. His internal devil kept saying, "Just touch her a little bit. Just touch her a little bit."
Each time he thought this, his cock eagerly raised its head a little bit higher, like a dog sitting up on its hind legs begging.
"Just touch her a little bit."
However, Matilda did notice and wonder why he kept moistening his thick lips until they gleamed like ruby-red slugs on his face.
She was also puzzled to note that his hands kept twitching in his lap.
"Go on," the devil urged, "Just touch her a little bit."
Mr. Kemp was in agony. It was a whole other ballgame to actually put his hands on her. God, but she looked as accessible and vulnerable there beside him. All that stood between him and these maddening nipples, which were erect now due to a breeze blowing lightly into the car window, was her flimsy white blouse.
His tongue ran along his lips again. He asked.
"Do you have any pets?"
While she talked about her pussy cat, one of his hands slid out of his lap and down onto the seat between them. There the hand sat with twitching fingers, rather resembling an epileptic spider.
He tried to counter the devil's prodding to prod her, by frantically reminding himself of all of the consequences. He could lose his job, he could lose the respect of his family and friends, he could be sent to prison, and he could, worse of all, do a lot of psychological damage to a very nice girl.
Matilda suddenly jumped and pointed excitedly out of the car window.
"Look, there's a deer down there over behind that tree!"
But when she had given her little jump, Mr. Kemp saw her lovely breasts bob their apples at him and he gave in to the devil's temptation. For the split second before he acted, he wallowed in the relief of having finally ended the turmoil of his indecision.
He decided, though, just to touch her a little bit and not get carried away. He quickly formed what he thought to be an ingenious plan.
"It's getting to be a little chilly, isn't it? Here, let me close your window for you." He slid over next to the startled girl and placed one arm up alongside the top of the seat behind her while with the other one he reached across her to roll the window up.
"There, that's much better isn't it?" He bared his teeth at her and she could smell his tobacco-y breath. She hunched down a mite in her seat and wished that he would move back over. She didn't like his red face so close to hers. Besides, after rolling the window up, he had simply let his hand drop down into her lap.
He himself was well-aware that he was making the little girl uncomfortable. He knew that he was playing the role of the cliche dirty old man, but he couldn't stop himself. His cock was now fully erect as he started to savor this delectable treat of a girl he had been obsessed with now for months, as earlier mentioned.
"What are you going to do for your summer vacation?", he asked to get her talking again. Maybe he could distract her while he felt her breasts.
"You already asked me that, Mr. Kemp," she said in a stilted tone of voice. His hand was squeezing her thigh. She watched in shock as he moved it down and firmly grasped her bare knee.
"Did I?" He murmured vaguely, "Tell me again."
His hand started to move up under her skirt and she was horror struck. Maybe he was just being friendly?
She started shakily to recapitulate her summer plans with her eyes in her lap watching the lump of his hand creep gopher-like underneath her skirt. The calloused hand reached her panties and one thick finger slipped inside of the elastic to the tender tendrils of her pubic hair.
She pulled back in alarm-that was no mistake! A feeling of panic swept over her as he clamped one hand down on her shoulder to hold her still. She was additionally blocked by his portly body. For a few seconds the struggle for her to escape continued in a silence broken only by the sound of a faint whistle in his nose as he breathed. Then he said soothingly.
"Shh, shh, just relax and let me touch a little."
What could she do? He was so much larger than she was. She felt overwhelmed by the sickly-sweet smell of his aftershave lotion. The thick finger continued its probing in her cunt. She found herself responding to his touch. Her clitoris was very non-discriminating. It welcomed the attentions of anyone or anything, just as long as it felt good.
"Your pussy's getting wet," Mr. Kemp's voice sounded husky and close to her ear.
She couldn't help it, she spread her legs wider for the finger to continue its titillating exploration of her cunt. It groped around for a while longer before Mr. Kemp withdrew his finger and sniffed it, "Ah-sweet nectar-ambrosia!"
His words confused her. The whole day had confused her and she felt too overwhelmed to compute what was happening to her now. She just wanted his finger back inside of her panties.
But what was he doing? He was gently pulling her blouse off, up over her head. There, he put the white garment on the seat behind him and his eyes surveyed the twin, compact, graceful breasts. Each nipple was tightly contracted as if in fright.
She glanced up at his face as if to make certain that this was indeed Mr. Kemp and not some dastardly imposter.
He noticed her glance and hastened to reassure her again.
"There, there. I just want to touch a little bit."
His sex organ was now throbbing as intensely that, before he did touch the delicate delights of her breasts, he unzipped his pants to allow his cock to pop out and join the fun.
When Matilda started to whimper and shrink away from the huge penis pointing so menacingly in her direction, Mr. Kemp rapidly once again stuck his finger into the girls panties to let her cunt suck on it for comfort.
As her clitoris was humored, she stared with her eyes wide open at his penis standing so erect and tall. She almost giggled as she realized that it looked like it was wearing a German army helmet.
Her thighs spread open a little wider as his finger massaged her cunt.
"Here, let's slip these off," and his large hands pulled the panties off as she raised herself up out of her seat slightly to help him. He slid the silky under garment down off of her smooth legs and dropped them onto the floor. Without him even suggesting it, she took her skirt off. She was totally naked except for her shoes and socks.
He couldn't believe his good fortune! Matilda was acting hot to trot!
He placed his rough hands on each of her thighs and then moved his hands up her little body. Up across her stomach, ever to caress the roundness of her hips, dipping with her waist, slowly making their way up to the creme de la creme of her breasts.
At last, the culmination of his fantasies came true as his hands slid up to wrap themselves tenderly over the mounds on the young girl's chest.
"Your breasts are divine!", he exclaimed, sharing his feeling of ecstasy with Matilda. He wanted to shout out his joy to the world. There was nothing, nothing lovelier to him than to feel her newly-hatched breasts. He traced his finger slowly around the curvy outline of each one. Again and again he stroked the wondrous, soft pinkness of each nipple.
Matilda was awed by his awe. He made her feel so special, so beautiful. She looked intently at his face with its almost ciild-like expression of wonder as he worshipped her breasts.
He bent his head down and kissed her orbs lightly. As his tongue circled one nipple, she reached over and shyly touched his penis. When it jerked, she pulled her hand away fearfully. She hadn't put her hand on the gardener's cock, so she didn't know what to expect.
"That's right, touch it again," he watched her fondly as she hesitantly stretched her little hand back out to his erect member. "Grasp it firmly." He thought back to the day he had taught her how to transplant the marigold.
Her fingers wrapped themselves delicately around the thick cock. Her touch, as she followed his directions, felt different than anything he had ever felt before-better. She seemed to be just naturally skilled in the fine art of how to arouse a man.
He then stopped her hand as he feared that he would come. He had forgotten all about his promise "just to touch". He wanted to put his cock into her pussy. Oh God, but how he wanted to fuck this sensuous girl-child!
She looked up at him, puzzled that he'd stopped her. She liked the way his thick penis felt so hard and hot in her hand. When she had squeezed it firmly, she had felt the blood boiling inside of it. She wondered what it would feel like to have this stiff rod inside of her.
"Did I hurt it?" she asked anxiously, eyeing his cock hungrily.
"No, dear," he replied, grunting somewhat as he released the lever which caused the seat to fold back. As soon as she saw him do this, she realized, as her heart skipped a beat, that Mr. Kemp wanted to fuck her.
He started to explain, as one of his hands sought to coax her cunt into submission, that what he was about to do might hurt her a little bit.
"That's okay-I'm not a virgin," she squeaked out, by now thoroughly aroused.
Mr. Kemp felt momentary dismay that Matilda was not a lily-white virgin, but then he remembered how awful it had been to deflower his wife. His cock pulsed even harder as he realized that he could pump away all that he wanted to and not have to worry about the chore of breaking her hymen.
She laid down on her back with her knees propped up. Her legs were wide open and her downy cleft backened him enticingly. With a groan of lust, the hefty man moved himself over the young body.
She felt his penis up against her tingling cunt. As he began to push his way in, she worried that she might not be able to accommodate such a huge cock. It was much larger than the gardener's. She breathed deeply to help herself relax and she spread her thighs apart even wider.
He pushed his cock into the moist, tight opening. He felt her excited heartbeat against his own. He looked down at the soft pink nipples below him. She smiled encouragingly up at him as slowly he began to fuck her, both of them luxuriating in the feel of his thick prick moving in the snugness of her pussy.
Faster and faster he ground away at her, gasping for air as his sexual excitement increased. She wrapped her legs around his back and pressed her cunt up closer to him. She held onto his upper arms with her hands. Un-like the time she was with the gardener, she suspended all conscious thought and just followed through on her natural instincts.
Her hips responded to his thrusts with perfect timing, straining to make contact with his balls, straining to take in all of his stiff penis. Her eyes were shut as all of her attention centered on the pleasure he was giving her body. He kissed her soft open lips and received her enthusiastic tongue into his mouth.
Fucking Matilda made Mr. Kemp feel like a young man again. He was amazed at his own vigor as he pused deeply and rapidly into her cunt when she climaxed and hugged him tightly with all of her might. She groaned ferishly and her head moved from side to side.
He then shut his own eyes with the heavenly picture of the satisfied girl's face in his mind as he himself shot his wad in a violent heave.
As they lay together, sweaty, satiated, a blanket of bliss covered them both. She was not repulsed as she had been by Mrs. Silverman. It felt so, well, friendly to be lying in Mr. Kemp's arms. She nestled her face in his chest.
He himself, with his ejaculation, had rid himself of his burden of the fear of sinning. Over and over again he told himself that everything was fine. It had happened and his whole world wasn't going to collapse after all. And she had even enjoyed it! This was what pleased him most. For the rest of his life, his most valued treasure was his secret memory of how beautiful her face had looked after her orgasm.
They finally roused themselves back to their senses, dressed, and he drove her home.
Thereafter, they still greeted one another cheerfully each day, but through a mutual, unspoken agreement, did not have sex again. Neither one of them had any regrets, nor wanted to. Their single experience had served its purpose.
As for Mrs. Silverman, Matilda astutely avoided being alone with her ever again. The teacher tried several times to get her to stay after class but she always made up an excuse as to why she couldn't. For the rest of the school year, Matilda occasionally caught Mrs. Silverman staring at her in class, but the woman would always avert her eyes quickly. The girl was definitely very relieved when summer vacation finally rolled around.
* * *
But this is getting ahead of Matilda's story. After her experience with Mr. Kemp, she had only a few days left before the weekend when the gardener was scheduled to show up again. She still felt nervous and excited about this event, but a tinge of cynicism had also crept into her feelings toward the young man. He had been her first lover and he knew it and yet he had just left her high and dry, so to speak. The possibility that she meant nothing to him except just another fuck snuck into her mind and stomped around on her naivety with muddy, hob-nailed boots. But she still generously allotted him the benefit of her doubt.
On Friday she was informed by her Mother that her Aunt wanted her to help out at her party that evening. Matilda groaned and tried to get out of it, but her Mother remained adamant that she do it. Matilda had had to help serve food and clean-up at other parties of her Aunt's so she knew what to expect; boorish adults, who either grew quietly maudlin or else loud and obnoxious as the evening and the alcohol wore on. It had been such a bizarre time for the girl within the last two weeks, that she just wanted to spend a quiet evening before seeing the gardener again the next day.
As she bathed, in preparation for the party, she reflected upon the fact that within the last month she had had sexual experiences with four people; her older sister, the gardener, Mrs. Silverman, and Mr. Kemp. As she further pursued this subject in her mind, she realized that she herself had sought after the first two while the latter two had sought after her.
She sat bolt upright in the tub as she comprehended that she must have sex appeal if, unbidden by her, the bus driver and the home economics teacher had found her to be attractive. She wasn't just a little kid anymore. She felt slightly dizzy as the truth dawned on her that people were starting to regard her in a sexual sense, almost as if she were an adult. Yes, as if she were an adult!
For the party, she slipped into a sleeveless lightweight dress which buttoned up the front. It complimented her figure nicely and the pale blue material augmented her tan. The evening was warm enough for her to decide just to wear sandals with no stockings.
At six o'clock, she heaved a deep sigh and, with a pained expression for her Mother's benefit, she left to walk the four blocks over to her Aunt's.
When she arrived, her Aunt Joyce and Uncle Chuckie were running around frantically attending to last minute details before the guests started to appear.
"I was beginning to wonder whether or not you were going to show up at all," her Aunt complained after hurriedly hugging the vaguely disgruntled looking girl. She stepped back and surveyed her niece critically, "I suppose you'll do, but didn't your Mother tell you that this was going to be a Hawaiian-style party? You should of dressed more tropical." And then her Aunt turned and pranced off towards the kitchen, producing a rather startling image in her purple mumu and her bright red hair done up tightly in a bee-hive fashion.
Matilda shrugged and then jumped as she felt a pinch on her ass, "Au contraire, Mademoiselle, you're looking goooood tonight, baby," and her bearded Uncle Chuckie did a theatrical wiggle with his hips as he waved his hands about for emphasis. He was wearing a bright orange Hawaiian shirt over his beer belly.
"Matilda!" sounded her Aunt's voice shrilly from the kitchen, "Come help me with the veggies!"
And the girl made her way towards the kitchen, wondering what was with her Uncle and his exceptionally high spirits. She could hear him humming away to himself as he continued to set up his arsenal of liquor bottles.
In the kitchen, her Aunt set her to washing lettuce. Through the kitchen window she could see that a pit had been dug in the back yard and in it there was a large pig roasting on a spit.
The doorbell rang.
"Aloha!"
The guests were beginning to arrive, and for the next few hours, Matilda helped serve dinner and then clear away the plates. As she did the dishes alone in the bright light of the kitchen, she listened to the party getting rowdier and rowdier, as everyone got drunker and drunker.
The noise grew louder momentarily when the door of the kitchen opened. Her Aunt stumbled in, supported by her Uncle.
"How are you doing, dear?" mumbled her Aunt nearly incoherently.
Matilda grimaced slightly. Her Aunt always got thoroughly soused at these gala affairs and consequently left her niece to clean up while she went to lie down and 'rest'. "Her sister Eloise had suffered the same treatment until she had flatly refused to help out at any more of her Aunt's 'little' parties. Then poor Matilda was called upon.
Watching her Aunt's sappy expression as she, as usual, explained, slurring her words, that she was going to lie down for a quick rest and then she'd come right back and help her darling, sweet niece clean up, Matilda vowed to herself that this was the last party that she'd slave at.
She nodded stonily at her Aunt.
Then Uncle Chuckie, himself rip-roaring drunk yet holding his liquor better than his wife, made the observation, "Your tits are getting bigger! Boy you're really in puberty now, boy."
Matilda blanched. Her Uncle had always been outspoken, as a matter-of-fact, he overtly took pride in his outspokenness, but this was downright embarrassing. What was she supposed to say, "Yup, the little buggers certainly are getting bigger, yup-I guess you could say that!"?
So she just stared back at him, completely abashed.
He continued, "Just keep up the good work, girl, and keep churning out enough tit-meat until you get knockers as big as your Aunt Joyce's here."
He groped at one of the said mammoth bosoms, producing a high-pitched cackle from her Aunt. Then they both staggered out of the kitchen, laughing and whooping it up.
Matilda raised her eyes heaven-ward and wished to God that her ordeal was over with. She turned back to the sink and finished up the last of the dinner dishes. She considered leaving right then and there as it would probably be a few more hours until the guests all left before she could wash the glasses they were drinking out of. It was already past midnight and it certainly wouldn't kill her Aunt to wash the glasses in the morning, hangover or no hangover.
The door to the kitchen opened up again and in stepped her Uncle Chuckie. His face, what showed of it outside of his beard, glowed redly from drink. He smiled with his strong white teeth at her. He looked like a friendly wild man with his unruly mop of curly hair. He was her Father's brother and the two men couldn't of been more unlike. For instance, her Father couldn't stand his brother's drunken parties, that's why he never went to them.
"How ya doing, kid?" He leaned back against the electric dishwasher which was now busily chugging away.
"I think I'm going to leave now, Uncle Chuckie," she said granite-faced, prepared to argue her case if need be.
"What's the matter? Aaaah, come on over to your Uncle Chuckie and tell me what's the matter." He crooked his finger at her and winked lasciviously.
Matilda felt a bit of trepidation as she walked over to her Uncle. After her experiences with Mrs. Silverman and Mr. Kemp, she knew that anything at all might happen with dear old fun-loving Uncle Chuckie.
When she stood by him, she said sulkily, "It's late, I'm tired and I want to go home." Uncle Chuckie smelled strongly of whiskey. "Okay, kid, okay. But first I want you to meet my friends, they're a swell bunch of guys and they've stayed just to meet you, like I said. I know that you'll like them."
Matilda wrinkled her forehead and looked like she was going to say no. Uncle Chuckie continued, "Come on-they've been asking me about you. You know, you've been getting quite a few compliments, if you know what I mean," and here he winked again at her with a leer on his face.
Matilda started to edge away uncomfortably but her Uncle grabbed her arm and steered her through the kitchen door into the living room.
Slopped around on the furniture there were about seven guests left, all in Hawaiian-print shirts, and all in various states of inebriation. They were also all men and the way in which they suddenly stopped talking and stared when she entered the room made her feel very self-conscious of her feminine contours.
"Gentlemen," announced her Uncle with his arm around her shoulder, "I don't believe I properly introduced my niece to you all. Matilda this is..." and he proceeded to tell her who everyone was and she promptly forgot each name as soon as she nodded at each man.
With the introductions over with, Matilda thought that she would then leave but Uncle Chuckie once again launched into the embarrassing subject of her puberty.
"Jack here was telling me that he-likes your tits. I agree, great tits. Nice and firm and pointy. It's too bad you're my niece because it'd sure be nice to poke you one, if you know what I mean, haw, haw, haw!"
All the men joined in with his laughter and Matilda felt furious and mortified. What a cheap shot for him to talk about his own relative like that, as if she had the brain power of a roving moron.
Uncle Chuckie still had his arm draped drunkenly over her shoulder so she couldn't make a graceful exit yet.
"Bring her on over closer," one of the men said before taking a big gulp from the glass he was holding.
"Certainly, sir," and Uncle Chuckie, being the model host, obliged.
Matilda wondered for how long she'd have to suffer being looked at so lewdly by all of these men. A few of them, though, were so drunk that all they could do was laugh along with the rest of them whenever a joke, usually at her expense, was made.
Her Uncle directed her on over to the couch where they both sat down. The man who had asked for her to come over, leaned towards her from the chair in which he was sitting, "Just remember, I'm not your Uncle, honey. I could show you a really good time with the ol' salami!"
She felt her Uncle Chuckie, who was sitting right next to her, stiffen, "Now wait a minute, Randy," he said to his friend, "I don't want to hear that kind of dirty talk around my brother's youngest daughter. This here is a decent girl."
And Randy sat back, chastened. "Only fooling, Chuckie. But you yourself said she's got great tits."
"A nice ass too," piped up another man.
Matilda was doing a slow boil of resentment. She couldn't stand being talked about as if she couldn't understand English.
"You want me to take my clothes off?" she quipped sarcastically.
A momentary silence followed this. And then someone said, "Why, that's downright kind of you to offer."
Someone else chimed in with, "Go right ahead little lady."
And several other voices joined in on a chorus of encouragement.
Uncle Chuckie squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at him, hoping that he'd break up the party and take her home. The tone of the gathering had turned even more disgustingly predatory now. Surely her Uncle wouldn't continue to let his friends address her so rudely.
But all Uncle Chuckie said was, "What a good sport!"
And before she could believe what was happening he was starting to unbutton her dress. He had both of her breasts exposed before she realized that he wasn't joking.
She tried to push his hands away, but his friends came over and held her down. She started to cry out, but one of the men clamped his hand over her mouth and said, "Shh! Children should be obscene and not heard!"
"Haw, haw, haw," went the chorus and Matilda felt as if she were in a nightmare. The whole adult world was out to fuck her over, it seemed.
Her dress and panties were pulled off and she was absolutely nude. Even her sandals were stripped from her as she struggled in vain against the men.
Actually, it is much too polite to refer to them as "men" as they certainly weren't behaving in a responsible and mature adult manner. Sober, they never would've been so loathsome towards a girl the same age as, and even younger than, some of their own daughters. But drunk and in a group they mindlessly acted out this debauched atrocity.
They rubbed their hands over her firm young breasts and commented on what a nice change they were from the breasts of their wives, "like elongated prunes" as one of them put it bluntly.
Quite a few hands found their way down to her pubic wonderland. One man stuck his finger up into her cunt and remarked, "Oooh, how tight! This would be a terrific pussy to fuck."
This, of course, opened a whole new can of worms.
But Uncle Chuckie, much to Matilda's relief, started sternly, "No niece of mine gets gang-banged. Party's over!"
There was much grumbling, but Uncle Chuckie had authority, and also his infamous big mouth, so everyone managed to find their hats and coats to leave. It may be knowledgeably stated, though, that before each man found his way home, he stopped off somewhere and masturbated with the thought of the delicious, naked, struggling young Matilda in mind. The next day, more than one home owner in the neighborhood wondered about the white goo they found stuck to the leaves on their hedges.
Anyway, Matilda sat in a daze on the couch, clutching a pillow to hide her previous treasures as the men stumbled out the door, calling out their thanks to uncle Chuckie and, gosh, how it had been a super party! Got to do it again soon sometime.
As soon as the last guest shut the door after himself, Uncle Chuckie observed, "Aaaahh, come on! Chin up-look like you don't have a friend in the world!"
She looked up at him with a hurt expression in her large brown eyes. She said nothing.
Her Uncle rambled on nervously, "I mean, hell, the boys were just having a little fun. You've heard the saying 'boys will be boys?' Right? That's all it was," then in a more self-righteous tone, "I didn't let them fucker, have their way with you did I?"
He reached out and placed a light, feigned, playful punch on her chin.
She shook her head slowly, still looking solemn.
"Would you please turn your back now, Uncle Chuckie, so I can get dressed?"
He shifted uncomfortably there on the couch beside her and scratched at his mop of brown curls.
"Well, er," he began uncertainly and then bravely took the plunge. He said in a deep voice.
"I thought that first you'd give your Uncle Chuckie a ... you know, fool around some..."
She looked at him in astonishment and he concluded lamely, "You know, just to show that we're still friends ... er, no 'hard' feelings, eh? Yuk, yuk," and he patted at his bulging crotch to get the meaning of his bad pun across to her.
She looked away in disgust. But, she had a twinge of the exhibitionist in her and she felt somewhat aroused because she was sitting with no clothes on in front of a man, albeit her Uncle. Her Uncle also wasn't half-way bad looking but, for heaven's sakes, they were blood relatives!
What a dilemma, she really did feel stimulated by the situation. Sex with her Uncle, whom only recently, it seemed, had been bouncing her on his knee! And her Aunt was upstairs sleeping. Oh, what a temptingly taboo situation to be in!
As she pondered what to do, her Uncle, in the meantime, sensing her inner debate, produced the clincher to get his request.
She felt something hot and hard pressed up against her thigh and without looking, she knew it was his cock. He gently pulled the pillow away from her as that her perfect, round breasts and light brown-haired cunt were once more revealed to his eyes.
"Come on, kid. It'll be fun."
He walked his fingers over her thigh and twirled a tuft of her pubic hair around his finger.
"Well..." she turned and smiled as her clitoris egged her on, "All right."
"Oh boy!" exclaimed Uncle Chuckie excitedly and stood up and pulled his pants down around his ankles. Then he plopped himself back down, stretched his arms up alongside the top of the couch and said, "Go to it!"
She wrinkled her forehead and tilted her head to one side inquisitively.
He gestured vaguely with his hand towards the region of his crotch.
Her only reaction was to look even more confused. Why wasn't he grabbing her-wasn't that what men were supposed to do to a woman? What was he waiting for? What an eccentric! And her thoughts continued along those lines until her Uncle ventured to say.
"You will give me a blow-job, won't you? Come on, be a good sport." He added petulantly, "your Aunt never will."
"A 'blow-job?' " parroted the girl, wondering if he had some sort of perverse idiosyncrasy about getting off on being breathed on, or something.
"You know, 'blow-job.' Come on, don't they teach you kids that in school? Sex education, or something? Hell, I learned about blow-jobs at school. During recess, I remember ... come to think of it, you go to one of those god-awful all-girls' schools, don't you?"
As she nodded, he looked at her in concerned compassion.
"Well you certainly will never learn anything at that place. Come to think of it, I told your Father that-that an all-girls' school was the pits as far as real knowledge went and your Father says to me, he says, 'It is the very best upper class school'-you know how he talks snobby sometimes, like he has a carrot up his ass, you know? Jesus! And now his 'upper class school' educated kid doesn't even know what a blow-job is, I tell you-it makes me want to cry. It does! 'Upper class school' my ass!"
Matilda liked her Uncle Chuckie, especially since she shared his sentiments towards her school. But, knowing him, she realized he could go on with his outraged diatribe for hours and she really wanted to fuck him. Now. Soon. Before several years passed, at least.
"But what's a 'blow-job,' " she interrupted him.
"Huh?" he turned and gazed at her vacantly for a few seconds as if he'd forgotten she was there. But his eyes took in her erotic curves and his groin reminded him of his desire.
"What a nice-looking lady you're turning into! Anyway, 'blow-job,' that means to suck on my cock, you know, with your mouth and no teeth, please and thank you! You have nice teeth, kid, but my cock doesn't appreciate teeth, if you know what I mean."
Matilda clasped her hands together, "Oh," she exclaimed excitedly, "you're talking about 'giving head!'" She'd done her homework after all via her study of her bible, Naked Nancy.
"Hey! You're not totally out-to-lunch after all, there's hope yet!" And Uncle Chuckie clapped her on the back in the spirit of camaraderie. "Now that we have that little matter settled..." and he leaned back and once again put his arms up alongside the top of the couch.
Now, Matilda was a very willing student in the ways of sex but she had never had a penis in her mouth before. She looked at Her Uncle's swollen member rather dubiously. It looked so, well, large, that she really wasn't certain how much of it she could get into her mouth.
"What do I do?" she looked up at her Uncle for guidance.
"Just play around with it and we'll see what happens," he said generously. Then, "just remember, kid, no teeth, I don't like teeth."
She nodded and again scrutinized her target. His penis, actually, looked kind of inviting. It was a fiery pink, rather like the color of an angry child's face who's holding its breath. The cock curved up out of her Uncle's thick tangle of pubic hair and it resembled a turkey's neck. She saw the largish, partially deflated purple sac below his cock. She touched him tentatively as she was unfamiliar still to the phenomena of "balls."
A sigh of pleasure from her Uncle cued her that so far so good, so she cupped one hand around the furry sack. Then, with the other hand she grasped his penis firmly and stared down at it. She loved feeling the life surge through it when she squeezed it. A drop of clear fluid appeared on its tip and this she licked away with her little tongue.
She liked the way the head of his cock felt so velvety. She moved it along her smooth cheek and around her soft lips. Then she looked back at the tip. The opening on the end intrigued her. She gently squeezed the tip and then laughed for the opening had done from a little slit to an 'O' shape and, "It looks like a mouth," she giggled, "I can make it talk!" And she squeezed open and shut the little hole as she said in a high-pitched voice, "Hi! I'm Mr. Cock!"
"All right, all right, kid, cut the clowning and get on with the business at your hand."
Matilda nodded and, after some effort, stilled her laughter and tackled her blow-job seriously.
She moistened her lips and tried to put the whole cock into her mouth but that almost made her lose her dinner in Uncle Chuckie's lap.
Then she decided to go about the task slowly and methodically. She searched her brain for what she remembered about giving head from Naked Nancy. She thought out all the steps she could recall, nodded primly to herself, and then commenced forth on her first blow-job.
With her tongue, she moistened the head of the cock and then placed her lips around it and slit it into her mouth. In order to protect her Uncle from her teeth, she had curled her lips over the edges of them.
She sucked gently on the head and swirled her tongue around on it, savoring its slightly salty taste.
She slid it out through her pursed mouth and ran it around her wet lips. She next lubricated the shaft of his throbbing cock with her tongue.
She glanced up at him and his head laid back on the sofa and his eyes were shut. She seemed to be doing just fine.
Once she had thoroughly lubricated his cock, she again slid it into her compressed mouth and this time took in as much as she could without gagging. She swirled her tongue around his hard cock and withdrew it almost all the way from her mouth, following up the shaft with her hand while her other hand continued to hold his balls. Then back down moved her lips with her incessant tongue movement.
Uncle Chuckie was in ecstasy. He moaned.
Faster and faster, in and out of her mouth, the tip of the cock then retreated rapidly around her lips, then plunged deeper and deeper into the moist sucking, swirling warmth of her talented mouth, the firm, massaging streaks of her hand up and down the base of his pulsing shaft until.. .until ...
She felt Uncle Chuckie's whole body start to jerk. He grabbed her head and plunged his cock deeply into the back of her throat suddenly and came copiously in several violent spurts, accompanied by loud groans on his part. He then fell back, exhausted, and Matilda was left to cope with all of the hot sperm in her mouth. She swallowed it and smiled gleefully with glistening teeth.
"Kid," gasped out Uncle Chuckie, "you give one hell of a blow-job, especially considering that you're a novice. If you could package and sell your mouth you'd make a million. Wait, who am I kidding? You'd make a billion! What'd you do with my wad?"
"Your wad?" asked Matilda politely.
"Jesus! Private schools!-My sperm. Wad equals sperm. Memorize that, it's one of the golden rules. Anyhow, what'd you do with my wad?"
"Oh that-I swallowed it, that okay?" she asked anxiously.
"Atta girl!. You pass with honors, let me tell you, what a kid, hey!"
They both beamed. Then Matilda squirmed around and eyed his happy, flaccid cock as it snoozed contentedly in his lap.
"You want to fuck now?"
Uncle Chuckie was livid.
"Fuck? What do you mean 'fuck'? Where do you pick up such filthy language? And we can't fuck, or, have sexual intercourse! I'm your Uncle! Don't you realize what you're saying?"
He modified his angry tone when he saw her look of hurt dismay.
"After all, kid, I just can't get someone in the family in the 'family way', if you know what I mean."
He pulled his pants up and then nudged her shoulder playfully.
"Come on, I'll turn my back now so's you can get your clothes on and then I'll walk you home.
Remember you said you were tired? Well, Uncle Chuckie'll take you home now, like he said he would, so you can get your beauty sleep. Miss out on your beauty sleep and you won't grow big tits."
So Matilda reluctantly pulled her scattered clothes on and was walked home by her cheerful Uncle.
That night it wasn't only Uncle Chuckie's men friends who masturbated after the party.
* * *
When Matilda woke up close to noon on Saturday morning, she lay still for a few seconds as she tried to recollect what it was that was important about that day.
The sun streamed into her window and she stretched in preparation to getting up.
Outside she could hear the faint hum of the lawn mower. The lawn mower!
She clutched at her throat as an involuntary spasm of anxiety swept over her. The gardener was there.
She got up and walked, somewhat uncoordinatedly as she'd just awakened, over to her window which overlooked the back yard. She approached the window cautiously from the side and peered very painstakingly out through a little gap between the curtain and the glass.
There he was down below her with his back to the house, pushing the lawn mower. He had his shirt off in the hot sun and his muscular arms and back glistened brownly. With his dark wavy hair, slender waist and hips, and long, long legs, he looked like an exotic gypsy.
She felt dismayed. He was looking too good! And he moved with such easy self-assurance. He must get propositioned by women all of the time.
She turned away from the entrancing vision of the hot-blooded young man. As she dressed and basically groomed herself to face the world, she gave herself a little pep talk.
She reminded herself, as she had all along for reassurance over the last two weeks, about how gentle and loving he had been with her. And he himself has seemed to vastly enjoy fucking her. He also must realize that she'd be a lot easier to fuck now that she wasn't a virgin anymore.
But then she fretted over the age difference, whether or not his friends would accept her-she knew that her friends would, sigh, accept him-and whether or not he and she would have anything to talk about.
She was beginning to feel more confident in her power to be attractive, but she still had to deal with the residue of years and years of feeling plain if not downright ugly.
When she felt ready to begin her dealings with the gardener, she first decided to go back and look at him from her window again.
She once more slithered along to the side of the window and peeped out slyly through the curtain.
But she saw what she really wasn't all too prepared for.
Her sister had spread a towel out on the part of the lawn which the gardener had already cut and she was sunning herself in a miniscule yellow bikini.
And worst of all, the gardener was leaning on the lawn mower talking to Eloise. He had an intent look on his face, and when her sister started to smooth some suntan lotion on her thigh, his eyes followed the movement of her slowly stroking hand. Matilda felt helpless as she watched Eloise spread her legs apart and start to sensuously rub the lotion into her upper, inner thigh.
She had to hand it to Eloise, she knew how to display her merchandise well. Very well!-judging from the way the handsome young man was studying her.
Matilda decided to store this sun-lotion-rubbed-into-the-inner-upper-thigh trick for future reference. It really was effective and she didn't blame the gardener one bit for staring. She wondered if he wanted to fuck her sister, and this thought excited her. Eloise looked so desirable, and her curvy body looked like it would make a perfect fit with the gardener's.
In her mind's eye, Matilda's jealousy slipped away as she imagined what it would be like for the gardener and Eloise to fuck.
CHAPTER FOUR
The conversation between her sister and the young man, which she had tried, without any luck, to overhear, ended. He went back to pushing the lawn mower, showing off his splendid muscles in the process.
Then, Eloise stood up and casually undulated towards the back of the yard and disappeared behind a tall, thick bush. Matilda crossed her fingers. It struck her as being rather bizarre that the gardener hadn't glanced up to watch her sister's shapely ass swing by him. He had kept his head averted as he applied himself most industriously to mowing the lawn.
Several minutes passed as the gardener mowed away furiously.
Matilda left her room and sauntered down the stairs and into the kitchen whistling airily in a preoccupied manner.
Her mother was in the living room reading the paper and she called out to her daughter, "How was the party, dear?"
And Matilda said, "Just fine, Mom," as she breezed on past her open-mouthed parent and into the kitchen.
This was the fist time that Matilda had helped out at one of her Aunt and Uncle's parties without ranting and raving the next day about how awful it'd been. She would tell her Mother about how so and so had gotten super stinking drunk and had insulted so and so, and other such gossip which caused her parent to have an enjoyable and 'how foolish these mortals be' tsk tsk.
Matilda knew that her mother got off on feeling superior to Uncle Chuckie and Aunt Joyce's friends, but she didn't want to take the time to ennumerate the evening's occurrences yet-with the obvious censoring of the last hour or so of the festivities. She had to quickly check and see out of the kitchen window whether or not the gardener was still hard at his industrious labor.
She got to the window just in time to see the young man slip behind the same bush where, oddly enough, her sister had gone.
Matilda narrowed her eyes and smiled to herself.
She felt quite surprised that she wasn't burning up with envy. She searched for a moment to figure out how she did feel. Relieved-she felt relieved. Her two weeks of questioning, hypothesizing, and rationalizing were laid to rest, in a manner of speaking. With the passage of time and her various sexual encounters, her passionate ardor for the young man had faded just enough so that she wasn't hurt.
However, having seen him from the window, her lust had resparked to life. What a physique he had! She shivered as she thought that she herself had had his glorious body pressed on top of her own.
She soundlessly let herself out the back door. The warmth of the day welcomed her and she breathed in deeply to smell the essence of freshly-mown grass.
She stopped carefully as she began to stalk towards the innocuous-looking bush. She enjoyed the feel of the slightly cool lawn underneath her bare feet. As she noiselessly approached the young couple's camouflage, she felt a fluttery sensation in her stomach and a desire to laugh. She had, essentially, reverted a bit back into her childhood. Once more she felt like a little kid spying on the mysterious actions of the adults.
A few feet away from the bush, she heard her sister utter a soft, feminine trill of laughter. She froze. Then ever so cautiously, all of her senses set on hair-trigger perception, she got down onto her hands and knees and snaked her way beneath the vast expanse of the bush. She was very familiar with the twistings and turnings of the branches inside of this green cave as it was one of her childhood hiding places.
She soon had expertly twisted her way along until she saw little flashes of tan flesh through the foliage ahead. Her heart pounded so wildly, as she sought to situate herself for the best possible view, that she felt as if she might choke to death in her excitement.
There, in between a frame of deep green leaves, she saw Eloise and the gardener.
They were sitting side by side kissing passionately. Matilda saw their mouths working together, tongues obviously intertwined. The gardener started to slip one hand into Eloise's well-filled bikini top and she pushed his hand away. As the kiss continued, his hand roved down the slight curve of the girl's cream-colored belly, hovered a moment, and then plunged boldly down into the mysterious depths of the yellow bikini bottom.
"Get your hand out of my pants, you bastard!", hissed Eloise vehemently.
But she didn't struggle too particularly fiercely to free herself from the gardener's groping fingers. The young man sought her mouth again and Matilda watched as he darted his tongue back through Eloise's parted lips.
There was a rhythmic ripple through the yellow material as he massaged her sister into willingness. With his other hand, which he'd been using to stroke up and down her back, he undid the clasp on the top of her bathing suit.
Eloise's breasts sprung out, glowing palely in contrast to her light brown tan. She pulled back with a sharp, outraged intake of breath and tried to slap the mischievous young man's face. But he grabbed her hand and pushed her back down on the ground.
"What's with this bit? It's not like you haven't screwed me before-why the struggle? Or are you playing 'rape'? "
Eloise looked flustered and somewhat irritated. She didn't reply, but it was obvious what she wanted.
The gardener looked down at her a moment from his position astride her pelvis.
Matilda realized that every time Eloise wiggled, she was stimulating the young man's cock.
Then the gardener said, "So it's rape you want, eh?"
He then rapidly pulled the bottoms of the bikini off of Eloise's womanly hips, with the latter only feigning struggle. She cried out in a falsetto voice, "Oh, oh, oh."
Matilda shook her head in disappointment. After all, her older sister had seemed so expert when she had rubbed the sun tan lotion into her thigh near the crotch of her suit. Now she seemed only like a washed-out actress.
The gardener had peeled off his jeans and so he too was totally naked. Matilda stuck her hand down into her pants in order to help herself increase her appreciation of his body. Such strong hairy thighs! His ass was so small and well-rounded, too. Matilda yearned to nip at his firm buttocks.
His penis was quite erect but he paused over her sister's widely splayed thighs before taking the plunge downwards. He looked-well ... bored.
Suddenly, a devilish leer appeared on his face as he appeared to have thought of an idea.
"Dear Eloise," he said to the monotonish-whimpering girl.
She was clutching at her large, pear-shaped breasts with their upward-pointed nipples, playing as if she were trying to protect them when she was obviously intent on sticking them out even more prominently.
"Dear Eloise," he repeated, "I've been screwing you for what nearly a year now-and we do need a little variety, you're right. That is what you're trying to do with this 'rape' act, isn't it? But you're acting is no good, lady, you're not convincing me at all. Tell you what, I am going to make a delivery in the rear this time."
"What do you mean?", asked Eloise.
"Turn over and you'll see," replied the gardener. He was trying to contain a smile, which burst out on his face, like popcorn, as soon as the woman had flipped over onto her stomach.
Matilda realized that he was up to no good from the malevolent expression on his face. She had quietly slipped out of her own shorts and underpants as she rubbed her excited clitoris.
"Are you going to fuck me 'doggy style'?-Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
The gardener was spreading her plump little cheeks apart and was peering inside at her forbidden fruit.
"Quite a cute little pucker you've got here," he quipped.
Eloise tried to twist out of his grasp by wiggling her hips, but he had pinned her to the ground with one of his strong knees.
He smiled savagely at her writhing form beneath him.
"What are you going to do?" she said fearfully. "Please let me go-I don't like you looking at me ... in 'there'. "
"At your ass-hole," he said brutally using the word she'd been daintily avoiding. "I'm going to make a 'rear delivery', like I said. Bound to be good and tight. I mean, that's quite a pucker for my pecker."
Eloise began to struggle in earnest.
"No you're not! Mine is a one-way street only, buster! Let me go, you big lug!"
Matilda ceased her self-manipulation as she watched in fascination. She was going to see a literal butt-fuck!
The gardener positioned his cock down in between her sister's plush buttocks. He had difficulty penetrating into Eloise's anus as she was bucking so much and trying to reach back and scratch him.
But he forged ahead and slowly, but surely, his cock disappeared into the all but screaming woman. The gardener was taking a well-calculated risk as, if Eloise's sense of dignity was really affronted, she'd've let loose with a roar which would of been the envy of any lion. When discovered by her mother, with a distended and possibly bleeding anus, she could easily prove her case of sodomy.
So why wasn't Eloise wailing away? Matilda couldn't understand it. Could she be enjoying it as the gardener was?
"God, you're tighter than the tightest cunt," he grunted poetically.
Eloise's whimpers were for real now and Matilda felt confused. Should she go help her sister or maintain her silent watch?
"Ohhhh!", cried Eloise as he jabbed at her. Her pain sounded so intense that Matilda couldn't stand it any longer. Forgetting the fact that she was naked from the waist down, she burst out of the bush feeling as tough as a mother bear protecting its cub.
Before the gardener knew what was happening, Matilda had leapt onto his back as he sat astride her sister. As he struggled with this unknown leech, the feel of his muscular back in direct contact with her cunt aroused her sexually so she clung even tighter to him for further stimulation.
It was a domino reaction, altogether actually. Matilda's sudden weight had rapidly forced the gardener's swollen hoe the rest of the way deep down inside the murky field he had been trying to plow. Feeling Eloise's colon as it frantically contracted in order to rid itself of this rude free-loader, sent him searing so quickly towards climax, that he could only fight feebly at the thus far unidentified behemoth clamped onto his back.
As for Eloise, she bore up rather well, considering, under the extra weight of Matilda. When the gardener's cock was suddenly slammed to the hilt into her outraged colon, her nerves reacted strangely as her entire cunt began to tingle in a singularly delightful manner. She never before nor after felt anything quite like it. Then the quick contact of his balls up against her stimulated clitoris pushed her up towards the orgasmic edge.
Within a count of three, the gardener climaxed and as he jerked in the process, Eloise came and her undulations rippled up through the gardener directly to Matilda's foaming clitoris, and she herself joined the others in the land of orgasm.
Then Matilda slid down off of the gardener's heaving, sweaty back onto the ground like a wilted flower. Next, the gardener keeled over like a chopped down tree, his penis emerging from the tight ass-hole with a moist, audible pop. And Eloise continued to just lie stretched out on the ground like a flacid, passed-out frog.
* * *
After this kinky experience, Matilda became a super all-out enthusiast of sex. It just seemed to be such an infinite topic to explore, with all of its little innuendos ("in-your-end, oh's!", as Matilda put it) and nuances. She was so intrigued with this new frontier that nary a day passed now without the girl milking her clitoris at least once, often more, for her pleasure.
One night, for instance, when Matilda was in the living room watching TV with her family, her cunt woke up, yawned, and then started to cry out for an orgasm in a tiny, incessant voice which headed up through her abdomen. However, the timing was bad as it was right in the middle of her favorite TV show. She tried to wait out her desire, but her cunt became even more obstinate and finally threw a temper tantrum.
What was Matilda to do?
She glanced at the zombie faces of her parents and her brother and sister as they watched, entranced, the doctor cut the brain tumor out of the gifted young pianist.
An idea had presented itself to her and, even though she had immediately refected it, shocked at herself, it had stubbornly squatted down in her mind and refused to leave.
"Matilda," the idea called out to her, "you can have your cake and eat it too. Go on! Just stick your hand up your skirt and jerk yourself off..."
"Do it!" screamed her cunt, bitchily.
"No one will notice. And you'll be able to stay and watch to see whether or not the piano player kicks."
It was hard to resist such coercion. To her horror and fascination; the girl felt her hand nonchalantly make its perilous way up her skirt to her little panties.
She decided that if she were found out, she could always disavow any knowledge of her actions. Or say that she thought she felt a flea which would immediately redirect everyone's attention towards arguing over whose turn it was to give the cat a bath.
Her hand presented itself to her wailing clitoris and it soon had the little pink nub of flesh cooing away.
This venture had proven to be quite successful and her family didn't suspect a thing, though they did feel that Matilda rather over-reacted to the news that the pianist would live to play again.
* * *
Yes, life was definitely ever so much more exciting with this newfound element. Matilda traded information with her two friends, Alice and Biff-short for 'Elizabeth'. One day, she invited them home after school. Her mother, sister and brother, weren't going to be there, and her father would be at work, so she knew they'd have the place to themselves.
As the three friends sat out on the patio sipping lemonade to help cool themselves off from the heat of the afternoon, they continued to discuss their common field of interest.
Alice, a pale, nearly albino-looking girl said, "People do it with animals."
"No!" Matilda and Biff exclaimed in unison. Alice had been known to bullshit before.
"It's true," retorted Alice hotly, "my brother showed me a book about it. I'll bring the book to school as soon as he gets through with it."
"Wow," exclaimed Matilda, "where'd he get a book like that?"
"I don't know, I didn't ask," Alice replied. She reflected a moment. "Maybe he found it in a gutter somewhere because when he showed it to me it looked really beat up, you know, and it had all of these stains on the pictures."
"Tell us about it," demanded Biff. Biff always sounded like a nymphomaniac the way she hounded all of the ins and outs of sex. But the curly-haired, freckle-faced girl was thus far a virgin.
And Alice, also a virgin, adopted a pedantic tone as she told, amidst the squeals of astonishment, about the pictures of men fucking ducks, donkeys, and sheep.
"What about women, don't they get any animal action too?" asked Matilda clenching her fist in the Women's Liberation salute.
"Do women get any ... whee! Wait'll you see the pictures-I was saving the juicy part for last," Alice rubbed her hands together gleefully. "They've got a lady being eaten out by a dog, and a lady fucking a horse. And-get this-a lady fucking an elephant!"
"Oh my," said Biff disdainfully, "An elephant, that's being rather greedy, don't you think? But, I kind of like the idea of being eaten out by a dog."
"Yuk!", Alice crinkled her nose. "I can't stand dogs. If anything, I'd much prefer to have a, ha-ha, pussy lick my pussy."
Matilda considered this joke to be in very poor taste.
"Bestiality," she said loftily, "makes me want to fuck my guts out." She set her glass down. "For my money, give me a nice, big, fat human cock anytime." She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, sunning her face.
Biff and Alice exchanged pained glances. They were tired of Matilda's 'holier than thou' attitude', which she maintained simply because her hole had been fucked.
With her eyes still closed, Matilda suggested, "Let's play in the water hose. I can't stand this godawful heat any longer."
The other two readily acquiesced to this and they all trundled inside to change into their bathing suits.
Back outside again, running around and squirting each other with the garden hose, they looked like little erotic elves.
Alice wore a daring deep-blue bikini which manipulated her small round breasts upwards and together.
Biff trounced around with her pointy breasts bouncing in a tiny leopard-print two piece suit.
Matilda had her own magnificent body trussed up in an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weenie, black and yellow-striped bikini.
"Buzzzzzzzzzz", she pranced about the yard waving her arms in circles, "I'm a bee!"
Unbeknownst to the three young girls, Matilda's father had just come home early from the office. He stood staring at their antics from the window in the kitchen. He just couldn't get over how curvy they all looked. It seemed like only yesterday they'd been children. And now they had these ... embellishments. Time certainly does fly.
He'd certainly have to have a little talk with Matilda about the indecency of her bathing suit. As she ran around waving her arms in that ridiculous manner, it seemed to him to be only a matter of minutes before her developing breasts popped out of her bikini top.
He stood transfixed before the window for the next few minutes.
Matilda stopped running and stood laughing and gasping for breath as Biff turned the hose on her. Her father felt disappointed and then he was horrified to realize that he had wanted very much so to see his own daughter's breasts. Ashamed of himself and the fact that his cock had started to stiffen, he turned away rapidly and went to do his paper work.
Meanwhile, out in the backyard, the girls had flopped down on a dry part of the lawn.
"Ugh," shivered Alice, "I can't stand the feel of being in a wet swim suit."
"So take it off, why don't you?" said Biff.
Biff had earlier suggested that they all strip, but the other two had declined, laughing uproariously at the notion.
But secretly they all wanted to. They were all curious about one another's bodies but they were also all shy about expressing this interest for fear of being called a lesbian. Therefore, they became exceedingly casual and 'played it cool', the second time this exhilarating idea was mentioned.
"Hmmmm. I suppose that's a good idea," Alice stretched lazily.
"Yeah. You know, wearing a wet suit is a real drag." Matilda squinted into the sun.
"Well, I never sit around in a wet bathing suit," white-lied Biff peeking around studiously in the grass with her fingers.
Matilda sat up and undid the top of her suit, pretending not to notice her peers pretending not to notice her well-rounded breasts with their small pink nipples. As she stood up to take off the bottom part of her suit, the two other pairs of breasts popped their perky nipples out into the bright sunny day light.
When Matilda stepped out of her suit, she took a quick inventory as to how her two friends were doing in the tit-production business.
Alice's small, snowy-white breasts each boasted delightfully red nipples.
Biff, on the other hand, had the largest breasts of them all. They curved upwards and came to nice neat points. She also sported the extra-added attraction of a small mole near her left nipple. Her nipples, too, by the way, were on the large side and were a deep-rose hue.
Matilda sat back down on the grass.
"Ooooh, this feels good," she remarked and then blushed when she realized what she had said.
Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Biff and Alice shedding the bottoms of their suits.
She glanced up and her eyes got entangled in the dark, thick, wild and wooly thatch of pubic hair which Biff had industriously grown.
Blushing even more, she yanked her gaze away and immediately found herself surveying Alice's lightly-haired cunt as her friend sat herself down on the grass.
They all three sat in silence a moment, mutually shy.
Matilda felt particularly ill-at-ease. She had never told her two friends about her encounters with her older sister and with Mrs. Silverman. She didn't want to be thought of as a 'dyke'. But the truth of the matter was, she had thoroughly enjoyed her experience exploring Eloise's body and, if nothing else, she had gotten off on the time her home economics teacher had gone down on her. Now she felt the greatest urge to caress her friend's breasts and to rub her face in their cunts. She sat and stewed in her own vaginal juices for she simply could not think of the proper etiquette on how to invite herself to dine on all her friends' delicious bodies.
"You know," said Alice uneasily, breaking the somewhat awkward silence, "I'm going to get sunburned just sitting out here like this. I'm really fair."
"I noticed," said Biff matter-of-factly. There was another brief clumsy silence after this as Alice squirmed at the thought that her friend had actually looked at her naked body.
Matilda stood up, "I have some suntan lotion over on the patio."
She walked the few yards on over to the porch. She had to momentarily get away from such a nerve-wracking sexually provocative situation. Also, the exhibitionist in her simply wanted to show her body off. She was well aware of her friends' eyes watching her long, shapely legs, and firm, curvaceous ass as she walked to the patio.
What she was not aware of, however, was the extra set of eyes on her. Her Father ducked down as she approached the house, with her little breasts bobbing. He had come back out to the kitchen because he was ever so thirsty and had really needed a drink of water. Well, he'd been in the kitchen for the last ten minutes and he was gosh, just as absent-minded as he stared out of the window, that his poor throat had remained parched.
Matilda walked back to her friends with the sun-tan lotion. She shook her hair back out of her face and smiled, enjoying the feel of the sun and the warm breeze on her body.
Another reason for her smile was that she had formulated a plan in her mind as to how to get her hands on her friend's body without anyone being able to accuse her of lesbianism.
"Tell you what Alice, I'll make a bargain with you. I'll put some lotion on your back if you promise to put some on mine."
Matilda waited with baited breath. Would Alice fall for her play?
"That's a good idea," said Alice in an innocent tone. Alice hadn't exactly been offended by the view when Matilda had gone to get the suntan lotion.
"Now," said Matilda as she moved over and situated herself behind Alice with her legs crossed Indian-style, "You do swear that you'll do my back after I do yours?"
"You betcha!" said Alice, also sitting bolt upright with her legs crossed Indian-style.
Biff edged over a little closer as she was now afforded a tantalizing glimpse into both of her friends' young beavers.
From the kitchen, Matilda's Father fervently wished that he had bothered to put together the telescope kit his family had given him for his birthday three years ago. His cock had been thoroughly aroused at the sight of the three nude girls. It was hard to believe that he was hard as he had known these girls all of their lives without being aroused by them before.
But Matilda was the one his eyes especially sought out. She had changed so much from the time he had changed her diapers. What a tantalizing crop of pubic hair she had sprouted. And such firm round breasts with such pretty, and impudently-pert nipples. He and his wife should be proud of the beautiful woman their little girl was turning into.
Why, he was so proud, that he wanted to fuck his own creation. He tried to formulate a reassuring analogy:
"After all," he told himself as he gripped his cock tightly, "When a baker makes a pie, he has a right to taste it after it comes out of the oven."
The suntan lotion came out in a big gob in Matilda's hand.
"You do have a very light complexion," she said to
Alice as she started to massage the lotion into her back. She liked the feel of her friend's warm skin under her hands. She took a long time in applying the lotion as all three of them chatted.
Alice relaxed more and more under the pleasant massage Matilda was giving her. She felt so sensual and wicked, sitting there naked outside in the warm sun.
Around and around her back, the firm hands glided, around and around. Alice's head lazed forward. She gazed down past her erect red nipples into her lightly-haired cunt. She simply could not get over how sexual she felt. But dutifully, as she didn't want to alarm her friends, she didn't admit to having these feelings.
As Matilda's hands worked around Alice's shoulder blades, the latter, unthinkingly, of course, pulled her arms out a little ways away from her sides. Matilda saw this pathway opened up to her and she wasted no time in taking advantage of it.
Smoothly, it just seemed so natural to all three of them (Biff had been watching) when Matilda's fingers glided around and cupped over each of Alice's small breasts.
Matilda's Father, even, had been hoping just such a thing would happen. The girls made such an exotic, ribald picture out there on the grass with the backdrop of trees, bushes, and other such flora. It really wouldn't of been so out of place, he thought, if he himself had come dancing out through the trees and had joined these nymphs in an orgy.
Matilda's hands gently squeezed Alice's breasts as she bent down and passionately kissed her friend's exposed neck.
There was no more conversation now. What all three of them had secretly yearned for was finally happening. No more pretense was necessary.
CHAPTER FIVE
Matilda's aroused cunt gratefully received the visitation of Biffs fingers. Biff had never seen anyone's pussy close up before and she was fascinated by the soft, curling pubic hair and the provocative glimpses of pink she had caught sight of deep down inside the cleft as Matilda had moved. As she rubbed the soft cunt she could feel it grow moist and she thrilled at the realization that she was stimulating her friend.
Matilda moaned and turned to look at Biff. Their faces were so close that it was unimaginable that they not press their tender, feminine lips together. At first shyly, and then with bold abandon, they plunged their tongues deeply into one another's sucking mouths.
Alice, missing Matilda's warm lips on her neck, and also disturbed at the cessation of her friend's massage of her breasts, looked over her shoulder to see what was going on. When she perceived that Biff had her hand in Matilda's crotch, she removed one of the latter's slackened hands from one of her breasts and plunged it down into her own fiery cunt. Matilda could take a hint and so she dexterously applied her skilled fingers to her friend's clitoris.
Now Matilda was much more skilled than either one of her friends so she soon had Alice down on the ground thrashing about as she came with a wild vehemence. Both Matilda and Biff stopped their kiss as they watched, in amazement, the power keg of dynamite explode in the fair-complexioned girl.
After this dramatic display of fireworks, Alice lay still, breathing deeply, and looking much like a Greek marble statue which had toppled over.
Back at the house, Matilda's paternal parent felt somewhat miffed at how quickly Alice had climaxed from his offspring's finger. His daughter seemed so skilled in the fine art of erotica that he suspected she had had a lot of practice. She certainly should be disciplined if she was, indeed, leading a wild life. It's up to a girl's Father, after all, to guide her along the path of righteousness.
He stroked at his cock faster and faster.
Now Matilda did not want to be rude, but as Biffs hand fumbled about in her crotch, her clitoris was really not very happy. As a matter-of-fact, the bossy little piece of meat was grumbling about the clumsy, nearly painful movements of Biffs fingers. Also, her own hand was tired from jerking Alice off so she really didn't feel like masturbating Biff, though she knew she should in order to be polite.
So Matilda, in her usual innovative way, hit upon a charming and novel idea.
"Hey, you want to try something new?"
Biff was willing to try anything at this point. She had situated her cunt in an inviting manner and was wondering when Matilda would accommodate her.
Recalling one particular scenario from Naked Nancy which had most decidedly captivated her, she directed, "Lie down on your back."
Biff readily complied. She looked like a young Earth Mother with her large breasts falling slightly to either side, sporting their large rose-hued aureoles. Her nipples rather resembled the pink mouths of children who are eating sticky cotton candy.
Her cunt hair, thick and dark, had blazed its way up her belly and a bit down her thighs.
This was a real challenge to Matilda as she had never handled such a woman before. She simply could not wait to see what it would be like to go prospecting for gold in the furry tangle of her friend's twat.
To Biff she said, "This position I want to try is known as 'sixty-nine'. "
"What's that?" panted Biff, her eyes shining brightly.
Matilda eagerly explained, "Well, I get on top of you so I can eat you out. And then I have my cunt over your mouth so you can do the same to me."
A stilted silence fell while Biff tried to digest this bit of information. She didn't look very happy.
Rather dubiously she said, "You want me to put my ... mouth on your cunt?"
Matilda felt dismayed. She did so want a little oral stimulation that she decided to deal out a low blow and shame her friend into complying.
"What is this, are you inhibited and frigid? Wow, I always thought you were so liberal and open-minded."
Biff looked at Matilda in dismay. Her pride had been wounded but she still felt uncertain about doing something so outrageously perverse.
Matilda continued, "You wouldn't make a face and say 'no' if you knew what you were missing. A cunt is delicious and you shouldn't knock it 'til you've tried it. And besides, you'll never learn if you're going to be so narrow-minded."
Biff looked at Matilda's cunt. The little cleft, barely covered with light-brown curls, wasn't really all that menacing, was it? She could just try it for a few seconds and then stop immediately if she couldn't bear the taste. Then no one would be able to call her a coward.
She swallowed with difficulty.
"Urn, okay. I'll do it."
As Matilda climbed up over her and started to lower herself down into the proper sixty-nine position, Biffs expression looked as if she were waiting to be executed.
Matilda settled her soft body snugly down onto the tender expanse of Biffs stomach. She spent a few moments happily rubbing her face and lips lightly over her friend's wooly bush.
At the sight of Matilda in such an erotic position, her Father came copiously, with visions of how he was going to discipline his daughter for such unruly behavior. After his ejaculation, he got out the spray cleaner and fussily wiped off all of his sperm as how could he possibly explain to his wife or the cleaning lady why his wad happened to be spattered all over the front of the kitchen counter.
"Oh my God!"
His sperm, to his extreme consternation, had also found its way inside of the silverware drawer. "Goddamn!"
As he painstakingly set about cleaning off all of the silverware, Matilda began to leisurely ramble through Biffs pubic brush. She parted the lips of her friend's cunt and began to grope blindly, playing 'hide-and-go-seek' in order to find the mischievous clitoris in all of that hair.
Biff, herself, watched terror stricken as Matilda's pussy hovered directly over her face. At first she held her breath, in order to protect herself from any foul odor. But, she eventually had to take in more oxygen. This she proceeded to do quite hesitantly, expecting nothing short of going into an instantaneous coma. To her pleasant surprise, instead of knocking her out, Matilda's cunt emitted a sensual, musky smell.
As she blinked her eyes in amazement at this discovery, she felt Matilda's little hand in her own crotch. Next, she felt her friend's tongue darting wickedly, teasing her cunt with quick, well-aimed jabs.
Well, if Matilda could do it, she certainly could too!
Shyly, she slid her arms up around her friend's waist, marveling at how slender it was, and hugged her body tightly, pulling Matilda's cunt within visiting distance with her own mouth. Shivering slightly from the delightful waves which her own cunt was sending up through her system, she tentatively licked at a small projecting lobe which she discerned in the dark expanse above.
Immediately Matilda let Biff have it with a hair pie in the face.
Biff sputtered momentarily, shocked at how brazen and wanton her friend seemed in so heartily shoving her pussy practically down her throat. For heaven sakes! But then again, Biff felt somewhat powerful in being able to create such an intense reaction on Matilda's pert.
The notion crossed Biffs mind to really show Matilda that she wasn't such a hot tamale after all in the field of sexual sophistication. She decided to force Matilda into such an overwhelming orgasm that she would momentarily lose all control. Then she wouldn't exactly be able to act so condescending anymore!
At least that was how Biff reasoned it out. With the above incentive, she applied her mouth to the tender flesh over it with an intensity which amazed and delighted the recipient.
This was just what Matilda had wanted Biff to do-get inspired to take revenge by showing her one hell of a good time. She herself applied her tongue rhythmically to Biffs stiff little clitoris. She held onto her friend's well-rounded hips for a roller coaster ride as Biff writhed in ecstasy.
Matilda suddenly realized that she herself was approaching orgasm. She couldn't believe how rapidly she was reaching the point of no return. Biff gave much better head than Mrs. Silverman had.
Much better.
She started to grind her own hips. She couldn't even find momentary escape from her friend's incessant tongue as it dogged her movements faithfully.
She was absolutely appalled-she was going to come before Biff-how humiliating!
She grew weak in her desire and her own tongue began to falter in its rhythm. As the nerves of her clitoris shrieked, "no more-overload!" she practically smashed poor, but triumphant, Biffs face in.
For a few seconds she whirled mindlessly, soundlessly, mouth agape, into the deeply vibrating chasm of orgasm.
As her fall eased up, she moaned her pleasure in a husky, throaty voice.
Her body gave a mighty shudder and then, after a few lessening twitches, relaxed into stillness on the soft cushion of Biffs stomach.
Biff felt jubilant and also awed that her own mouth had actually reduced her smug friend into a jabbering cream-puff.
Matilda sighed heavily, "You were a lot better that I gave you credit for."
Biff felt somewhat chagrined. Matilda, by admitting this before Biff could taunt her with it, had taken all of the wind out of the latter's sails.
Biff attempted, anyway, to shame Matilda.
"What about my own fun?"
"Yeah, I was just about to ... " and the rest of her sentence was lost in the furry forest of Biffs cunt. Within minutes, Biffs own body arched up as she too climaxed.
Politics in crotch maneuverings is always a sticky business, but Biff and Matilda still remained fast friends afterwards. They gathered up the limp form of Alice, and all three of them, shakily, but merrily, made their way back to the house and into their clothes.
None of them suspected that Matilda's Father had run out of the kitchen and into his study as the three nude girls had slowly approached the house.
* * *
The next day, Matilda's Father simply could not concentrate on his business. His thoughts kept darting back down between his legs. He couldn't get Matilda out of his mind.
His daughter's breasts practically hovered in the air before his very eyes.
He even saw his daughter's pubic paradise in his boss's beard.
During a board meeting, he desperately tried and failed to stop thinking about putting his hot rod into Matilda's garage.
It was no wonder that by five o'clock quitting time he felt so unnerved by his non-stop passion for his daughter that he decided to stop off and have a few drinks before going home. He dialed his house to tell his wife that he'd be late.
On the other end of the line, Matilda's melodious, little girl voice answered.
"Hello?"
Totally on impulse, her Father began to make wet smacking noises with his lips. "Hello?? ? "
He continued to slobber away, sounding as if he were eating a very moist peach. "Who is this?"
She sounded frightened! One part of him was appalled at what he was doing but the other part of him that liked it, rose up and took command of his actions.
He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and covered the mouth-piece of the phone with it.
"That's what I'd like to do in your honey-pot ... " he mumbled in a gravely voice.
Her response was to slam the phone down.
He nearly went into shock then as the full realization came to him (in more ways than one) that he had just given his own daughter an obscene phone call.
He pondered this as he wiped the drool off of his chin.
For all he knew he could've just traumatized her for life. Perhaps never again could she answer the phone-maybe even look at a phone-without bursting into tears. She might develop such a severe phobia that she would have to cross to the other side of the street whenever she saw a telephone booth ...
Oh, what had he done to his poor baby girl?
Later on over his second double of gin and tonic, heavy on the gin, please, he fantasized about having to call up the telephone company to come and take the phones out of his house for Matilda's sake. He gulped his drink down and ordered another.
When he walked somewhat unevenly up to the front door of his house, he nervously envisioned finding Matilda inside huddled up in a little ball in a corner, hissing and growling insanely at anyone who came near.
However, once he put his key into the lock and swung the door open, he immediately saw his daughter standing in the hallway. Not only did she look completely normal and calm, but the fact that she was talking on the telephone acted as the undeniable testimony that she was, after all, untraumatized.
He came in smiling, relieved but at the same time peeved. Why hadn't she been traumatized? Jesus, he certainly had been, and the way he figured it, any young virginal girl would've been too. In his drunken reasoning he forgot to take into consideration that his daughter hadn't known it was her own father who had made the smacking noises at her. Sure, he knew that she had played 'doctor' with her friends ... he reflected back on Matilda in the 'sixty-nine' position. Well okay, so she'd played a more intense game than 'doctor.' Say she played 'specialist' or 'Brain surgeon,' just something a little more sophisticated than 'doctor.'
His thoughts stumbled on in his drink-fogged mind.
But anyone who knows a little bit about child psychology knows that a kid usually has at least one fairly innocuous (generally homosexual) sexual experience. Big deal. But the way the dirty phone call from a 'strange man' didn't seem to bother her, well ... could it be that she wasn't entitled to wear a white gown on her wedding day?
At the dinner table, his family noticed that he was slightly preoccupied. He kept wondering to himself whether or not some lucky fellow had used his magic wand to erase his daughter's hymen.
He looked over at Matilda as she concentrated on constructing little gravy lakes in her mashed potatoes. She most assuredly looked virginal in her sleeveless pastel-pink tee-shirt.
"It's all an act," he thought and looked at her calculatedly. "She's had a big, thick cock slammed into her, I'm not fooled."
Out loud he snapped, "Quit playing with your food Matilda!"
His family all jumped. He was never sharp with the children. His attitude usually, in regards to such mundane thing as table manners, was one of laissez-faire.
His behavior that evening certainly struck everyone, particularly him, as being bizarre. He was losing control as his passion continued in its relentless bombardment of his moral sensibilities.
When dinner was over, it was Matilda's turn to clear the table and do the dishes. Her Mother and Eloise and her little brother all got up and retired to the living room and the television set. As Matilda set about carrying plates out to the kitchen, her father dawdled over his glass of wine. She didn't say anything to him as she scowled into his maroon-colored drink. She figured he had an exceedingly tough day at the office and didn't want to be bothered.
But he was bothered, hot and bothered to be exact. He looked up from his wine in order to watch his young daughter's long brown legs as she carefully walked out to the kitchen carrying a big stack of plates. She sure looked nice and inviting as the shapely cheeks of her ass strained beneath her tight, short shorts.
As soon as her lithe form disappeared from his sight, he glanced around and noticed that Matilda hadn't drunk all of her milk. He reached over and picked up her glass. He could see white smudges around the rim where her pink little mouth had been. Without really thinking, he stuck his tongue into the remaining milk, then quickly set the glass back down as he heard his daughter returning.
She was starting to gather up more dishes when he said, "Finish your milk."
She looked at him in amazement. Her father was never like this! It just wasn't his style to bark out arbitrary orders.
"Er, sure Dad." She carefully humored him and drank the rest of her milk. She then carried more dishes out wondering to herself if maybe he had been fired from his job. What else could possibly he held accountable for his extreme personality change?
His hard-on, which he'd been battling all day, began to try to sneak up on him again while he watched his nubile daughter drink her milk. After all, his tongue had been in the drink and then she-pant, pant-had touched it with her own tongue as she swallowed it. This was symbolic to him (for some kinky reason) of his tongue touching Matilda's tongue. People go through the strangest contortions and crafty maneuverings in the name of lust.
He poured himself a little more wine from the decanter.
When Matilda undulated back out to pick up the last of the dishes, she noticed that he was eyeing her strangely.
"Were there any phone calls today ... for me?" She reflected, feeling ill at ease under his intent stare.
"Well, no. But maybe Mom..." He interrupted her, "No calls at around, say, five o'clock?" He watched her carefully for any possible clues. Clues of just what, though, he wasn't really sure. She crinkled her brow.
"Around five?" she started to say something and then stopped. She shook her head.
But he didn't let that slide.
"What were you about to say?" His tone was eager.
She stammered, "The phone did ring at around five but it wasn't for you." He continued quietly, "Who was it for?" She shrugged, "I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know."
"Whoever he was didn't ask for anyone."
"He? A strange man talked to you?"
"Just a little bit. I hung up on him."
"Why would you hang up on him? Maybe that was the call I was expecting. Tell me just what he said." He gave himself a mental pat on the back for having thought up such a "great" alibi for getting Matilda to relay his obscene phone call back out verbatim through her tender lips.
She looked down at the table, embarrassed.
"I think that it was a dirty phone call. It wasn't anyone that wanted to talk to you. You know that I wouldn't've hung up on some..."
Again her father interrupted.
"Do as you're told and don't be so impudent. Now, repeat to me just what this man said."
She squirmed and her breasts stirred winsomely beneath her pink tee-shirt.
"Well, first of all, Daddy, no friend of yours would call and just make slurping, smacking sounds and not at least say 'hello.'"
" 'Smacking sounds'? What did these-'smacking sounds' sound like?" He took a sip of his wine.
The girl plucked at her lower lip as she considered, then she brightened.
"You know, he sounded like he was eating something wet."
"Imitate it, please," said her father, secretly pleased that she had basically understood what his moist sounds had meant.
So Matilda obediently gathered up all of the spit in her mouth and proceeded to do his request. She got quite involved in figuring out new variations on how to swirl her spit around and was in the process of trying to create a miniature whirlpool in her mouth when her father, with a slightly pained r expression, stopped her efforts with an exasperated, "Alright, already! I get the idea, jeez-Louise!"
Matilda grinned. This was more like her dad. She continued excitedly.
"And then he said something dirty to me!"
"Oh-what?" Her father looked like he still hadn't totally recovered from the rendition of the first phase of the obscene phone call.
"Let me think ... " she squinted up her entire face as she thought, "I can't remember exactly, but it was something like this..."
She cleared her throat and affected a deep voice, "That's what I want to do in your ... in your..., " she scrounged in her brain for the word.
Her father luckily caught himself in time just before he helpfully prompted her.
". . . in your honey-pot." She triumphantly finished, proud of herself for remembering. She took a quick gander at her father's face. Since he seemed to have enjoyed what she had just said, she decided to spice the phone call up a bit more. "Then he said..."
Her father opened his eyes up wide-he hadn't said anything else in that call.
". . . I want to fuck you with my ... with my ... cock!"
She giggled nervously and put her hand up over her mouth. She had never talked so filthily to her father before and he looked absolutely flabbergasted.
He was absolutely flabbergasted. He couldn't believe the sentence she had just fabricated. Where did she learn these terms? Why would she make up such a fib? He was quite frankly shocked. Was that what she wanted to hear men say to her? Then he thought greedily to himself, "Say-maybe she's hot to trot, eh?"
Out loud to Matilda he said, "What do you think that man meant by what he said?"
Matilda gestured for emphasis with her hands, "Just what I said-he wanted to fuck me." She noticed her father blanch so she modified her words, "He seemed to desire to engage in sexual intercourse with me." Her dad looked faint.
"How is it that you happen to know so much for one so young?"
Here Matilda grew vague.
"Oh you know, friends, books, tv, things like that," she started to pick up the last of the dirty dishes and then carried them out to the kitchen.
"Whew!" she exclaimed under her breath and she began to rinse the dishes off to put into the electric dishwasher. Her daddy sure seemed to be in a funny mood.
After a short while her father came out to the kitchen.
"Here's the rest of the dishes." He set down his wine glass and the decanter. She set her lips primly as she rinsed out the decanter as she noticed that he had drunk off all of the wine. She heard him pull a chair out and sit down solidly.
"I'm going to have to have a talk with you, young lady!"
With her back to him as she continued with the dishes, she made a face and mouthed out silently, "Oh shit!" She mentally prepared herself for one of his pompous and tiring moralistic lectures. "It concerns me very much as your father that that perverted telephone call seems to be so trivial to you. You do not seem to realize that there are a lot of sick people out there in the world."
Matilda stifled a yawn and thought, "You wanta bet?"
"A young girl like you with your good looks is probably attracting a lot of attention from the boys. Tell me, are boys paying a lot of attention to you?"
Matilda truthfully shook her head. After all, her youngest male lover thus far had been the gardener and he was twenty-five.
With surprise her father asked, "You're not fibbing?"
"No, Daddy. When do I ever get a chance to see boys at my school?"
He momentarily snapped back into the role of 'parent'.
"Don't start in on the changing schools bit again! I want you to grow up to be a refined young lady and, believe me, one of these days you're going to thank me for it."
She didn't say anything, but it was easy to tell by the straightness of her back and by the way she squared her shoulders that she sincerely doubted ever being grateful for being sent to an all-girls' school.
Her father settled himself back in his chair. He watched Matilda's long legs as she gracefully stepped back and forth putting dishes into the dishwasher. He thought to himself that she really ought to be careful as she most definitely was starting to tote a good deal of sex appeal.
He folded his hands in his lap and gravely inquired, "Do men ever say anything to you in the street?" She turned and scrutinized him. "like what?"
"Oh..., " he ransacked his mind for the sort of thing that he used to say to girls when he was a young lad, "like-say-'hubba hubba'. "
Matilda had to laugh at how stilted and alien the term 'hubba hubba' sounded coming from her father.
He himself had to laugh. He felt like such an old fool, but the gnawing in his groin urged him onward in his scheme.
He crossed his legs to help hide the bulge in his crotch.
But Matilda by now had become well aware of the signs of an approaching seduction scene. At this fine date, she wasn't totally and irrefutably horrified as it dawned on her that her pop wanted to bake his 'pop-up' in her little toaster oven.
She turned away momentarily in order to hide her knowing grin. No, she certainly wasn't disgusted by the thought of going bam-bam with Daddy. As a matter-of-fact, she felt proud. And exceedingly excited as she hopefully anticipated a decent, solid fuck. It had been quite awhile since she'd gotten laid properly by a man. And her father was terrific-he could do anything. Yes, she positively glowed at the notion of fucking her daddy.
She was very aware, though, of the sensitivity of the situation. It would have to be broached delicately in a civilized manner. She couldn't just blurt out, "Hey, Dad-tell you what, I'll open up my heart and my legs to you, how's that?"
No, she had to maintain some sort of innocent decorum so as not to frighten her parent off. She wisely realized that what he was attracted to in her was partly related to an assumption of her naivety.
She said straight-faced, "No, I've never had any man say 'hubba hubba' before you just did."
He didn't know quite how to take this.
"Before I just did what?"
"Said 'hubba hubba' to me," she said simply and she lightly batted her eyelashes at him.
He blushed a deep, deep red and she wondered worriedly to herself if all of the blood rushing to his face was causing his luscious erection to deflate any.
But the crotch of his pants appeared to be bulging more so than ever. At least this was what she could perceive from underneath his feeble attempt to shield his swollen member from her eyes with his hands.
He hastily said, "No no; I'm not saying 'hubba hubba' to you, I'm just trying to warn you that men are going to start paying attention to you. You have to be careful."
She dared a puzzled look at him for his benefit, switched on the loud 'chugga-chugga' of the electric dishwasher, and then said, "Why do I have to be careful?"
Her father took a deep breath. He was still drunk enough with his liquid-courage to brazen out his attempt to get into his daughter's pants.
"Well," in answer to her question, "You have to be careful because you're getting curvy enough that men will try to have sex with you. Do you know what sex is?"
She pulled another chair out and sat down close to him with her legs purposely uncrossed and spread out wide.
"A little bit. We talk about sex at school." He looked shocked.
"At your upper class girls' school! Oh come on! What would nice young ladies of your age have to say about sex?"
This ultra irked Matilda. She felt very proud of the amount of sexual information she and her friends had thus far gleaned, especially considering the nearly overwhelming handicap of not having any immediate boys around for experimentation.
She decided to be coarse and attempt to both scandalize and hopefully electrify her father.
"What do we talk about at school? Oh, let me see, well, we tell each other dirty jokes. like today my friend Alice told me the one about the guy who had such a small dick that he'd fuck his girl friend in the ear and she'd say that she could hear him coming."
Matilda sniggered gleefully at this.
Her father stared at her in astonishment. The youth of today certainly was a lot less ignorant than his own generation had been at the same age.
He cleared his throat and tried to smile at her little jest just to show her that he was an "okay guy".
"It is one thing to joke about sex, but it is very important for you to be aware of just why you should be cautious around boys and men."
She spread her thighs out slightly wider.
"Tel me why I should be on my guard around men, Daddy." She noticed his gaze wallowing around in between her legs.
He wiped the sweat which had gathered on his forehead off with the back of his sleeve.
"You are developing quite a nice pair of breasts and you know what men like to do to such nice firm breasts like yours, don't you?"
Matilda pulled at the top of her shirt and looked down inside it.
"Gosh no, Daddy, what would men like to do to my breasts?"
Without hesitation, prepared for this question, he said matter-of-factly, "Take your shirt off and I'll show you."
In an instant, the thin pink tee-shirt was pulled off and the young girl proudly displayed her budding breasts to her father. He couldn't believe how perfect they were, but come to think of it, her mother sported a pretty good pair herself.
"Show me Daddy," arid she gazed at him with innocent adoration.
He placed each hand onto her round mounds. His penis immediately started to clamor for attention as he gently felt her tits. He saw her nipples pop up as he touched them. He edged closer to his daughter in his chair.
"Now pay attention Matilda. Do you see that your nipples are now erect?"
She nodded emphatically. She wished that he'd hurry up as her clitoris was definitely paying very strict attention to what he was teaching her.
"Well that means that I have sexually excited your breasts. You must watch and not let a man touch your breasts."
She wiggled in her chair. "But why Daddy? It feels so good!" Delighted, he exclaimed, "Does it? Well, you're certainly a healthy, normal girl. No sir, my little girl isn't going to grow up to be frigid, how about that! Chip off the old block, heh, heh."
His hands roamed to her crotch. "How does this feel?"
Matilda could hardly stand the pretense any longer but she continued in her innocent act so as to win her Daddy's big trophy. She grabbed his hand and pressed her cunt up against it.
"Ooooh. . . ! " was all that she could manage to say at the moment.
"You like that do you?" His hands undid the snap on her pants and pulled down her zipper.
She stood up and he eased off her tight little shorts. They both drew the silent ironic parallel of how he used to help her put on and take off her clothes when she was a little girl.
She could hardly stand it, she felt so sexy standing there naked in front of her Father in the brightness of the kitchen. She was so aroused that smoke nearly came out of her smoldering cunt.
As for her Father, he almost forgot that he was her Father as he reached to pull the wet-dress-of-a-girl into his lap. She perched on one of his thighs with her legs firmly pressed up against his cock.
This was the second time in fourteen years he had had an erection in regards to Matilda. The first one had caused her, of course. Now the second one would have intercourse with her.
Being a thoughtful, dutiful daughter, she pulled down the zipper on his pants and jumped back in momentary alarm as his cock sprang out at her like a Jack-trying-to-get-into-the-box. Then she grasped it tightly in her little hands with an expression of sheer glee on her angelic face. Her Father said, "Here's a new toy for you to play with. Treat it nicely and it'll treat you nicely."
She felt her pussy salivating hungrily at the sight of her Father's big cock. She leaned up against him and nibbled lightly at his ear.
"If you don't take your pants off, I'm going to stain them," she murmured sultrily. She slid off his lap and he rapidly pulled his pants down. He got himself all tangled up as he frantically tried to get his trousers off over his wing-tip shoes.
Luckily the busily chugging dishwasher masked all of the sounds of the hanky-panky stew Matilda and her Father were starting to brew out in the kitchen. Now hopefully no one else in the family would go out to the kitchen as 'too many cooks' would certainly of 'spoiled' this 'broth'.
Matilda's Father gave up on trying to free himself from the entrapment of his treacherous pants when his young daughter pressed her smooth tan body up against him and started to run her little pink tongue around inside of his ear. He threw his arms around her and thrilled at the sight of her breasts as they swelled up against his chest.
He sank back down in his chair and once again his daughter sat on his leg, but this time it was on his bare leg. Their flesh sizzled together as his hands roamed freely over her breasts. They kissed deeply and sloppily for they both were pretty talented with their saliva. He gloried as their tongues actually came into direct and tantalizing contact.
One of his hands slid down the side of her taut little stomach into the hairy playground of her cunt.
"Oh goodness gracious, you certainly are a wet little thing aren't you?" he said gently with his lips still lightly touching hers. Her eyes were shut and her long eyelashes were lavishly displayed against her flushed face.
She was in ecstasy as he rolled her clitoris around in between his thumb and forefinger.
"I've got to fuck your warm pussy," and he stood up determinedly with her in his arms and shuffled over to the dishwasher with his pants down around his ankles.
He put her up against the vibrating machine and she spread her legs apart wide in order to accommodate her Father's stiff pole. As she felt him thrust his cock deeply into her cunt she thought that this was the best present, aside from life, that he had ever given to her.
He began to sensuously thrust his pulsing penis in and out of her hot, tight pussy. In and out, their hips ground together, his hands gripped her breasts, and their tongues entwined as they could not seem to get enough of one another.
Matilda threw her head back as her climax waltzed her around and around in a pirouette to the beat of her Father's cock. She locked her ankles around his pumping ass and hung on until her Father suddenly stopped, grunting as his sperm spurted out into his daughter's cunt.
They clung together for a few more luxurious minutes, just breathing, sweating, and feeling satisfied.
At last he pulled away from the incredible Matilda, his penis limply falling out of her calm cunt.
As he pulled his pants back up, he said in an attempt to regain his misplaced parental status, "That's what you're not to let the boys do to you."
"But I'll let you do that to me any time." Her face appeared, smiling, out from underneath her pink tee-shirt as she pulled it back on.
"Well that's different. I'm your Father, you understand."
"Sure, Daddy," she said with an innocent expression as she zipped up and snapped her pants, "I understand."
* * *
As far as sex went, Matilda had it easy. She was absolutely surrounded by people who wanted to rub up against her feminine contours. She was in great demand by Biff and Alice as they both vied continuously to try and get her to come over and spend the night at their houses, which she often did.
Whenever the gardener showed up to work, Matilda and Eloise always followed him around panting until the privacy and the time was found so that he could service them both. They often indulged in a menage a trois out behind the tall bush in the backyard.
Of course, whenever Matilda desired any counsel from her Father, she could always go into his study and confer with him behind a closed door.
And let's not forget the electric toothbrush.
Then last, but most definitely not least, Matilda had her own hand.
However, no matter how many times she pulled down her pants for the above-named to give her an orgasm, she just never felt satisfied in her mind. Her body was always happy, though, for she happened to be one of those lucky females who doesn't have difficulty in achieving orgasm. Yet, as the weeks rolled by she felt more and more dissatisfied.
One day, as she sat and thought about all her lovers, she realized that physically she was by far most attracted to the gardener. On the other hand, she and the gardener never had too much to say to one another and, after a very short while, a fuck without conversation, no matter how terrific the orgasm is, is about as thrilling as an uncovered beer which has lost all of its carbonation.
She had the most verbal fun during sex with her friends, Biff and Alice, but there was still some sort of wall between them for achieving a real sense of spiritual intimacy.
As for her Father, well there were the roles of parent and child to be strictly observed and adhered to, aside from the sex. Matilda just did not feel like telling him of her hopes and dreams, etc., for the very real fear that he'd start in on a sermon on how she should live her life.
What Matilda yearned for was someone closer to her own age who was male, and not only a good lover but a good friend as well.
"Fat chance of that," she remarked gloomily to herself as she laid awake in bed thinking one night. As if right on cue, the door to her room opened up and the dark form of her Father appeared. He closed the door after him and tip-toed across over to her bed.
She sat up in surprise as this was most dangerous. When they played around in his study, they had the guarantee of absolute privacy as it was against the family code of honor to break in on one of her Father's 'little talks'. But what could be said about him being in her bedroom after she had gone to bed?
He sat down on the edge of her bed and said somewhat apologetically, "Your Mother has one of her headaches tonight, so would it be alright if I. . . ? " and his groping hands finished his sentence for him.
Matilda quickly felt aroused as she enjoyed the taboo sensation of clandestine sexual meetings.
"Sure, Daddy!"
His hands undid the buttons on her nightgown. The cloth rustled softly as he pulled her nightgown off over her head. He rubbed his hands smoothly over her shoulders and breasts and pulled the covers down so that he could see his daughter's naked body in its erotic entirety in the soft, muted light of the moon.
Having her breasts stroked by a man was close to number one on her top ten list of favorite things. She liked to see strong manly hands cup themselves around the mounds of her bosom. She liked her breasts so it especially pleased her to watch a man take pleasure from them too.
Her Father bent his slightly graying head down and started to suckle on one of her nipples. She stroked his hair as he did so and then reached to find his penis. She didn't have much difficulty as the merry little fellow had already stuck his head out through the opening in her Dad's pajamas in order to say "hello" to her.
Her Father slipped his pajama bottoms off and got onto the bed beside Matilda. He ran his hand down the contours of her waist and hips and began to play with her clitoris until Matilda felt she would swoon from ecstasy.
All the while she'd been feverishly gripping his penis but she suddenly released it and also pulled her cunt away from her Father's hand.
"Please fuck me, Daddy," she whispered, "I like coming because of a big cock."
Her Dad turned over on his back. His penis stretched stiffly up on the expanse of his stomach.
"Get on top of me," he urged, "and ride me like a fine stud stallion!"
Matilda sat up and straddled her Father. She placed his burning cock up against the opening of her vagina and slowly lowered herself down on it, enjoying feeling it moving snugly up inside of her cunt.
He placed his hands up on her breasts as she began to pump her ass back and forth on his hard pole. She rubbed her cunt briefly in a circular motion whenever she came into contact with his balls. She loved the feeling of total penetration. She also got off on looking down to see his penis as it appeared and disappeared into the nebulous cave of her pussy.
Her Father's breathing grew more and more rapid and eratic. He gripped her hips tightly and began thrusting harder and harder inside of her. As her own orgasm approached, she collapsed down onto his chest. Their crotches continued their frenzied activity until at last her Father came copiously.
Poor Matilda, though! She was on the very threshold of orgasm. She twitched as if her finger was stuck in a light socket. But she felt inhibited and couldn't bring herself to tell her Father of her plight. He thanked her for being such a good little girl, pulled his pajamas back up, kissed her chastely on the forehead, and then tip-toed back out of her room and closed the door.
Immediately that she was again alone, her hand sought to console her sobbing cunt. She rubbed her enflamed clitoris until she arched her back up and cried out soundlessly her pleasure.
CHAPTER SIX
One night, when she had been invited to stay over at Biffs house, her friend's mother asked them after dinner if they would mind going to the laundromat to do a wash for her. She said that she normally wouldn't ask Biff to do a wash at night but she figured it would be safe enough with the two of them.
They both enthusiastically said 'yes' as it would be a near-adventure for them to go out at night even if it were just a few blocks away to the laundromat.
As they loaded the clothes into the machine at the empty, brightly lit laundromat, they giggled together about a man they had seen earlier that day at a gardening nursery who had been jerking-off in an Easter Lily.
Matilda said, "That was really weird. I never knew that people could have a flower-fetish."
Biff put some money in the washing machine and started it up.
"If you think that's weird, check this out!", and she directed her friend's attention over to a sign posted on the wall which read:
Ladies!
Do Not Leave Clothes Unattended In Dryers. A Thief has been Stealing Underwear.
Biff giggled.
"Yeah, and I wonder what he does with the panties!"
Matilda said incredulously, "You don't mean ... ? Are you sure it's not just a poor woman who needs underwear?"
Biff looked at Matilda and said, in a worldly manner, "Sure I'm sure. I talked to one woman who saw the guy in action. He only took one pair out of her dryer-it was the prettiest, fanciest pair, too."
"Wow!" Matilda exclaimed, "Did she try to stop him?"
"No," replied Biff, "She said that he looked like such a gentleman that she was too startled to do anything at all."
It was a warm night and finally, when the clothes were in the dryer, Biff decided that she wanted to go across the way to get some ice cream.
Matilda said, "Get me a mint chip cone, please, and I'll stay and guard the wash."
Biff darted off into the night and Matilda settled herself down in a chair behind the door of the laundromat and started to read a magazine article on birth control. She decided that she had better bone up on this subject before too many other boners went on up her.
As she read, she. noticed, out of the corner of her eye, someone walk in through the door past where she was sitting. She continued on studiously with the article without looking up. When she reached the end of the page she raised her eyes to do a casual inventory of the person who had come in.
At the far end of the laundromat, she saw a man in a suit open up one of the dryers and look in. She sat up with a start as her mouth fell open.
Could this be the panty-pervert?
She made a face of disgust as she thought of how sordid getting off on women's underwear was.
But then again, she wondered, perhaps she was condemning him too rapidly. After all, she thought as she watched the whistling, dapper little man dance gracefully from dryer to dryer, remember the French saying, 'To know all is to forgive all.'
She paused here in her reasoning as she was really rather impressed as to how efficient he was. And so cheerful! No wonder he hadn't been apprehended for who would suspect such a pleasant roly-poly little man who even sported a pseudo-Tyrolean hat which he kept tilted rakishly a touch to one side.
Her initial panic was now quelled due to the underwear-snatcher's ostensibly innocuous appearance and demeanor.
She almost rather liked him as she watched him trying to decide what pair of panties he wanted out of Biffs dryer. He made fussy little clicking noises with his tongue and moist red rosebud lips, and he furrowed his brow to signify the difficulty and importance of his decision.
He narrowed his choice down to three pairs and she couldn't help but be impressed that he didn't just take them all as most people would. That is, she hurried to qualify her statement, anyone who would want imagine panties.
She gave a quiet cheer to herself when she saw that he'd decided upon the black lacy pair she had admired best.
She suddenly realized that he had finished his tidy panty-gathering and was about to leave.
Where was Biff? The police? What should she do? She was the only one, besides the cheerful pervert, inside of the laundromat and she couldn't very well tackle him. If only Biff would come back and get the police! She'd have to think of something to stall him.
Oh! He was walking towards the door. Maybe she could detain him by asking him what time it was? Or perhaps she could buy more time by complimenting him on his taste in lingerie or...
As the little shoes tapped briskly through the doorway, she stepped forward into the light and she said somewhat confusedly, "Nice nigh . . .t, isn't sir? I mean, isn't it, sir?"
The man stopped and she saw that he was about four inches shorter than her own five feet five inches which boosted her confidence tremendously.
"Yes it is, isn't it?", he replied in a soft voice with just a miniscule trace of a Boston accent. His brown eyes darted down and then back up her body rapidly to once again rest politely on her face. She discerned a twinkle of approval in his intense eyes and she felt flattered. Yet, she found herself to be flustered to an extent which she shrewdly deemed to be rather disproportionate to a more 'up and down' glance.
She felt almost naked in his eyes as, without looking down, she knew that her nipples were ninety-nine point nine percent most-likely to be proudly erected. Damn them! They had a special knack for picking the most inopportune moments, such as now, to jump up straight and tall, squaring their little shoulders military fashion. She sometimes wondered, facetiously, why her nipples didn't also announce their presence via a tiny trumpet fanfare. The little pink fellows additionally ignored her suggestion that they salute and wave small flags.
She struggled to overcome this brief moment of insecurity by reminding herself that it was up to her to act as a concerned citizen and detain the pan-ty pervert for the police.
She had no immediate cause for alarm, though, for he showed signs of making his getaway with the stolen goods. She frantically ransacked her mind for something else to say. His voice eased its calm way though her confusion and blessedly slew her dilemma of what to talk about. He asked her earnestly, "Could you tell me please where one goes in this town to buy decent ladies' lingerie?"
She was so relieved, even appreciative, when she realized he was willing to stay and talk to her, that she thought very carefully before answering about which store she would recommend to him.
She liked the way he tilted his head to one side ever so attentively as she told him which stores she liked and where they were located. He repeated the names of the stores after her, committing them to memory.
Then he fished the pair of black lace panties out of the pocket of his expensive, tailored suit, bowed slightly, and displayed them to her with both hands.
"May I presume that these are yours?"
Matilda shook her head.
"They belong to a friend of mine. I just came along with her to do a wash. She went to get some ice cream."
He looked most disappointed.
"Oh. If I may then, please, see what panties you are wearing?"
He looked anxiously up at her, like a lovable puppy-dog begging for some food. She thought that no harm could possibly come of just letting him look at her underwear.
"Well, I suppose so," she said and smiled at him as she lifted her skirt up.
He took two steps backwards in his shiny shoes in order to get a better look at what she was modeling.
"Aaaah!", he cried enthusiastically, "These are very nice indeed."
Matilda felt glad she had worn one of her new pairs of panties instead of a pair of old and frayed ones. This new pair she had on were white bikinis with small lace ruffles around each leg. She turned in a circle in order to give him the full effect.
"So very nice indeed, oh my, yes!" He clapped his hands together with delight.
Metilda couldn't help but share his delight.
He started to reach out to touch her panties and then stopped.
"Forgive me but may I feel the material?"
Matilda laughed happily.
"Help yourself!"
"Thank you very much," he stroked the material near her hip. "Oh, so silky!" He then ran one well-manicured finger along the lace around her leg and then stopped as he approached where her thighs met.
"So silky," he repeated as he again stroked the material, this time directly over her cunt.
He was so polite that Matilda wasn't certain if he was trying to get fresh with her or not. Her pussy began to purr as he continued stroking. She felt mesmerized by this neat little man and the tingling sensation his finger was arousing. He pushed his hand down between her legs and continued to stroke her. Her knees began to wobble as he massaged her clitoris through her panties.
"Here, do sit down," and he helped her back into the chair she'd been sitting in behind the door when he came in. She gratefully accepted, and sank slowly down into the seat. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist and he knelt down gallantly on one knee as he continued his delicate petting of her cunt through the smooth nylon of her panties.
He worked diligently, glancing up at her face every now and then with his bright eyes to see if he were pleasing her. She suddenly gripped the arras of the chair until her knuckles were white. Noting this, the little man stroked her faster. As she climaxed, she modestly turned her face away from the gentleman and tried to tone down her moan of sexual release.
When she finally relaxed and turned once more towards the man, he inquired ever so considerately, "Did I please you?"
All Matilda could do was nod. The whole situation was so ludicrous! He looked at her and the expression on his face was one of being quite hopeful of having satisfied her. As she thought about it, she smiled slightly to herself. He really had satisfied her and his polite manners were the frosting on the cake of an exceedingly pleasant experience.
She then smiled broadly and she began to applaud him.
"Yes!", she cried jubilantly, "You pleased me so much!"
He then stood up and bowed and absolutely beamed from head to toe.
"I must leave before your friend returns." He said, "But before I go, would ydu grant me one more favor?" He bent towards her reverently with his fingertips placed together.
"Yes?"
"Would you please let me have your panties? I would much prefer to have them than this pair of your friends."
Matilda smiled graciously and stood up and slipped off her underwear.
"I am honored," she said, "That you would want them." She handed them over to the ecstatic little man.
He handed her the black lace pair in exchange and then bowed once more. "Thank you ever so much, kind lady!" Matilda curtseyed.
"And thank you ever so much, kind sir!"
With a wave of his hand, the little man stepped out through the door of the laundromat and disappeared into the night.
* * *
Summer vacation! Matilda was overjoyed as she put away her school uniform in the very back of her closet. She twirled around her room in naught but her panties. She hummed to herself as she did a little cha-cha number back over to the closet. She pulled a lightweight shift off a hanger and slipped it down over her head.
She wandered downstairs and out into the yard in her bare feet. She could hear the sound of clippers and she climbed up on the fence which separated her house from the house next door. She then could see her neighbor, Mr. Williams, trimming a bush in his garden.
"Yee-hee!" she greeted him and waved her arms furiously over her head.
He stopped his labor and straightened up.
"Whoa, be careful-you're going to start flying!" He smiled at her youthful exuberance. "Why are you in such a good mood?"
"School's out!" she chirped, "and next week is my birthday and I'll be fifteen!"
He eyed her speculatively.
"Well you are now, huh? Is that a fact?" He rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, "Well, you're still under-age." He turned, still smiling, back to continue clipping down the unruly foliage.
Matilda had known Mr. Williams for several months since he and his wife had moved in next door. They were relatively newly-weds since they'd been married scarcely seven months. They were a happy, young couple. Mrs. Williams couldn't've been over twenty-four and Mr. Williams was twenty-seven at the most.
Matilda had a crush on Mr. Williams which stemmed from the very first time she had seen him. He had a firm jawline and a habit of letting his handsome features fall into an erudite, book-worm expression. He looked oh so serious behind his horn-rimmed glasses and yet, his athletic body belied the strong potential he had for screwing a woman to Heaven and back again.
One time Matilda had seen Mr. and Mrs. Williams walking up the path in their yard towards the back door. Mrs. Williams was a little bit ahead of her husband. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a flimsy bathing suit top. Matilda felt jealous of how stacked she was.
Without warning, Mr. Williams leaned forward and grabbed his wife's plump little ass. She gave a surprised shriek and whirled around. Her husband seized her arm and pulled her to him. He kissed her passionately while his hand slid inside of her bathing suit top and squeezed one of her ripe-melon breasts.
She pushed him away and looked around hurriedly without seeing tthe young girl spying on them and then, with a giggle, she ran into the house, quickly followed by her leering husband.
Thereafter, Matilda often used the above scene and what she imagined had happened when the couple went inside of their house as food for thought as she masturbated.
Matilda again thought about this scene as she straddled the fence and watched him do his gardening. She felt very stimulated as the hard fence pressed up against her sensitive, ever-ready clitoris. She sighed as she gazed at the serious young man. Why did he have to be married? She imagined that it must be a lot of fun to coax such a stern man into the throes of sexual excitement. Lucky, lucky Mrs. Williams.
He put the hedge clippers down and stretched way up.
"Well, since you're liberated from school, why don't we play a game of chess to celebrate?" he asked.
She and Mr. Williams had played chess several times before. It was a nice way to pass the time and Mrs. Williams would always bring them something like lemonade to drink. However, Matilda noticed that the car wasn't parked in the garage so maybe Mrs. Williams wasn't home at the moment.
"Okay, I'll be back in a second," and she slid off the fence and ran into her house. She went upstairs and used the bathroom and then stared in the mirror at her face. Her cheeks were so pink as she just felt so very happy. School was out, she was almost fifteen, and now she got to play chess with
Mr. Williams without his wife hovering around. She was a very nice lady but Matilda felt elated at the idea of getting the handsome man all to herself for awhile.
She paused before leaving the bathroom. A small grin appeared on her face and she removed her panties and put them in the hamper before racing back out to the chess game.
As she approached Mr. Williams where he lay sprawled on his stomach on his lawn with his chess set in front of him, she felt wondrously self-conscious of the fact that she was wearing nothing under her short little shift. When he saw her, he started to set up the chess pieces.
She sat down in front of him cross-legged. She pulled the material of her dress down to hide her brown little beaver.
"There," he looked up at her, "which do you want to be, black or white?"
"Well, you were black last time so I guess I'll be black this time." She replied and the game was on.
They played without talking in order to concentrate on how to move their chess pieces. Matilda, however, was also concentrating on how to move her fur piece so Mr. Williams would notice its friendly presence.
She hoped that her shift would just naturally creep up her thighs, but the material obstinately stayed in place to chaperone her cunt and Mr. Williams. It was all so very frustrating as his eyes were on a perfect level to get a splendid view of all her cunt had to offer. Matilda knew that she'd probably never again get such a golden opportunity, or at least not for a long while, to be alone with her sweetheart of a neighbor.
While waiting for him to take his turn, the young girl thought of an idea on how to flash at him. It was clumsy and far-fetched, but what the hell, she was willing at this point to try anything.
She turned the upper part of her trunk around to look behind her as if she were idly surveying his garden. She felt her shift at last move up into high gear and she hoped that he'd notice her little furburger.
"Your move," he said and then looked up straight into the pubic trap she had set for him. The hair rose up on the back of his neck, but that wasn't all that rose up, as was plainly clear to Matilda as he wriggled uncomfortably on his belly like a stepped on snake.
She randomly pushed one of her pawns to another square. She didn't care about the chess game anymore.
"Your move," she said meaningfully.
He tried to concentrate on the game, but he kept looking back up into the tantalizing vision of loveliness of her cunt. He felt in a quandary because she was such a young girl and she couldn't possibly realize that she was exposing herself to him.
He thought about sitting up, but he couldn't without revealing the fact that his cock had bloated up with lust-bred greed. To further the problem, he had already been noticing how curvy as of late his little next door neighbor had become. One time his wife had caught him over by the fence watching Matilda sun bathing in a bikini. She had gently chided him but she hadn't taken the matter very seriously as Matilda was so very young and not nearly as top-heavy as she was.
He himself hadn't taken Matilda very seriously until now when he found himself afforded an irresistible view of her cunt. He could even see a bit of pinkness amongst the hair in between her legs. He wryly thought to himself, "I love my wife, but oh you kid!"
Matilda's frustration and horniness were building. The possibility that he wasn't going to try to make a pass at her crossed her mind. She was being so blatant too! Maybe he really loved his wife and was remaining faithful to her.
She sighed. She supposed it could start difficulties if he fucked her Pandora's box. She looked down at herself, and made believe that she'd just noticed that her pussy was exposed and pulled her shift back down.
But Mr. Williams had gotten to rather like the view. He reached across the chessboard and pushed her shift back up.
"I noticed," he said, "that you're not wearing any panties. Aren't you afraid that you'll catch cold?" He didn't know whether or not he was shocking the young girl's sensibilities but, quite frankly, he didn't care. He felt that he couldn't help but react to such a provocative sight as a split beaver. He was, after all, a red-blooded American male.
"Oh my," giggled Matilda, delighted that he had decided to get to know her cunt after all.
He reached into the warmth of her pussy and flicked the little pink lobe of her clitoris.
"Ogooooh!" she said in response.
He continued to rub at her pleasure point as he said, "Since you've shown me yours, I'll show you mine."
He stood up and undid his belt buckle. His lips curled up at the corners in a desirous leer. The young girl looked like such a tasty morsel under the thin wrapping of her shift. He unzipped his pants and stepped out of them. He already had had his shirt off, so now he was totally nude in front of Matilda.
She felt almost fearful, confronted by all of this powerful masculinity. It was obvious to her that he must work out often as the muscles on his arms stood out. He looked, to Matilda, like a young Greek god.
He stood before her, hands on his hips, laughing gently as he watched her look at him. Poor little neighbor! All she'd been expecting from him was a friendly chess game.
He had such an incredibly strong sex drive, he just had to fuck that delectable cunt of hers. Why not? His wife wasn't home. The young girl may be legally under-age, but her body was old enough for him.
And to Matilda, his cock was more than large enough for her. It must of been a good nine inches long, by far the largest one that she had ever seen. Yes, Mrs. Williams certainly was lucky to be getting action from that mighty tool. Surely, his wife wouldn't begrudge sharing it at least once with Matilda?
He knelt down beside Matilda.
"Why don't we take this off?" and he pulled her shift off over her head.
Her breasts rose so delicately up off of her chest that he was entranced. His wife had such huge breasts that he kind of liked this smaller variety which he could cover up entirely in his hands. This he then proceeded to do, luxuriating in the softness of her mounds.
Matilda was in ecstasy as he stroked her breasts. She put one hand on his muscular thigh and moved it up to the deep brown thatch of pubic hair he had surrounding the shaft of his incredible cock.
She slipped her hand underneath his balls and massaged them, feeling their curious crepe-like texture.
She marveled at how interesting man's genitalia is and, not for the first time, felt grateful that nature had concocted such a terrific item as a cock for her enjoyment.
"I like the way your hands feel, little girl," he said, and bent down to kiss her parted lips. As his hand slid down into her cunt, she began to kiss him back with great fervor. He responded with equal intensity. She was such a good kisser for one so young! He envied the man who would know her when she was older and had time to practice and increase her skill.
They plunged their tongues deeply into one another's mouths and then they would pull back and gently rub their moist lips together, thrilling at the touch of such tender flesh.
Simultaneously, they lay down together on the chess board, oblivious to the fact that they were scattering the chess pieces everywhere. It felt so good to Matilda to press her body tightly up against Mr. Williams to feel their thighs interlock.
He ran his hand down the curve of her back and up over her round ass, time and time again. Her brown flesh was so smooth, so firm. This was one girl who had been made for the divine purpose of fucking.
He pressed his body fiercely back against her so that his cock could pulse and throb next to her soft belly.
She held onto his arm, amazed at how rock hard his muscles were. Oh, she could hardly stand it before the real action began! But she demurely waited for him to initiate the fuck.
She pushed her shapely thigh in between his legs and up against his balls.
He moaned in a deep, deep animal tone.
He moved over on top of her so that she was lying on her back. He cupped her tiny face in his hands and looked down at her sensitive, well-shaped mouth and down into her large brown eyes. He murmured, "You are going to grow up to be a very beautiful woman!
She felt so flattered, so overwhelmed that he had paid her such a compliment. She was going to be a beautiful woman!
She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him, something his silky hair with her long-fingered hands.
As they continued to kiss, he reached back to position his cock into her cunt. She spread her thighs wide apart and drew her knees up. She felt the touch of his velvety, burning cock on her clitoris and her heart began to pound. She drew a deep breath to help relax her tight little vaginal muscles as he began to penetrate her with his tremendous, blood-engorged organ.
She didn't think she'd be able to take in all he had to offer. She felt the tip of his cock press up against her cervix.
"Am I hurting you?" he breathed huskily in her ear.
"No," she replied but she waited, as he began to thrust, to see if he would.
But, no, he was skilled in how to use his powerful weapon without hurting a woman. As soon as she realized that he wasn't going to bruise and batter her, she began to undulate her hips to gain the maximum amount of pleasure from what he generously had to offer.
They both were sweating quite freely now from the heat of the afternoon and from their amorous activities. Their bodies glistened as they pumped together in unison like fine-tuned machinery.
Matilda ground her hips more and more fiercely up into his pumping groin. She closed her eyes and turned her head to one side. She reached down and grabbed into his muscluar ass to help press his cock as far and as hard into her as was possible when her sensations overcame her and she climaxed intensely. She arched her pelvis up and strained as her top capacity for pleasure was reached. As she moaned and clutched at him, he gave in to his own climax which he'd been fighting to hold off.
His cock exploded its wad inside of her strongly contracting cunt. He then continued to lie on top of her. They were exhausted and sweaty, but a feeling of contentment welled up inside of them both.
He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand and gently kissed both of her closed eyelids.
She smiled and sighed blissfully as only a just sexually satisfied woman can.
A car sounded in the driveway! Mr. Williams peeled himself off of Matilda and their bodies squeaked from the suction they had created. He leaped into his shorts and yelped as a little bit of his pubic hair got caught in the zipper. Matilda quickly wiggled back onto her shift.
Then-oh no! A small puddle of sperm winked mischievously in the sun from the middle of the chessboard which they'd been lying on. Mr. Williams folded the board shut just as Mrs. Williams came walking up holding a bag of groceries.
"Hi!" she said cheerfully, "playing chess?"
"Yes," Mr. Williams replied, "we were playing." He winked at Matilda when his wife turned and walked away.
* * *
Matilda sat brooding in the backyard over the book she was reading as she sun-bathed in her bikini. However, she hadn't read one word of the book for the last half-hour or so.
She had seen Mr. and Mrs. Williams drive off together and she felt jealous and lonely. About one week had passed since she and Mrs. Williams had mated on the chess board. She yearned to be with a man more than just to get a quick fuck. Mr. Williams seemed to understand how she felt, as he treated her sympathetically, but his wife was around constantly and he didn't want to jeopardize his marriage.
She sighed, gave up on the idea of reading, and rolled over on her back. She closed her eyes and felt only slightly soothed by the massaging warmth of the sun on her outstretched body.
She didn't hear the Williams' car pull back into their gravel driveway as she was dozing.
"Matilda? Matilda?"
The voice wafted its way through her dreams and her eyes fluttered open. She squinted up dazedly and saw three forms standing above her.
She rapidly sat up, blinking to help focus her eyes. There in front of her stood Mr. and Mrs. Williams and a young man of about eighteen.
"Sorry about disturbing you, but I'd like you to meet my little brother," said Mr. Williams flashing his white smile. "He's came to town to check out the college and see if he-likes it. He'll stay with us this summer. Anyway, Jim, I'd like you to meet the girl next door, Matilda."
Jim had already been grinning at her as the extended introduction was being made. He reached his hand out and firmly shook hers.
"Nice to meet you, Matilda," he said.
She could tell by his approving expression that he really meant it.
"Nice to meet you too, Jim," she said shyly. She could see the family resemblance between him and Mr. Williams.
She accepted an invitation to come over and have dinner at the Williams' that night. Her heart seared as she watched the three of them walk back next door. Jim sure had a nice ass-a nice everything! She started speculating on how long it would take before she could get him alone in a corner somewhere and fuck the living daylights out of him!
She spent a lot of time with Jim over the course of the next week or so. Then one night as she sat over at the Williams' playing chess with Jim, Mr. Williams said, "Boy, I feel like going to a movie. How about you honey?"
Mrs. Williams looked up from the shirt she was mending.
"Why that sounds nice. How about you kids?" Mr. Williams shook his head slightly at Matilda and Jim.
"No, I not in the mood, thank you," replied Jim politely.
"Me either, thank you," echoed Matilda.
She and Jim returned their attention back to the chess game as Mr. and Mrs. Williams got all set to go.
Matilda heard Mrs. Williams whisper, "Should we leave the kids alone?"
Mr. Williams answered her firmly, "They're not kids, my dear. Consequently we most assuredly should leave them alone."
After the front door shut and the car drove off, Matilda felt her face burning as she studied the chess board. She could tell that Jim was looking at her.
"Hey," he said.
Their eyes met and they smiled at one another.
"I've been meaning to tell you," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "that you've got a great ass!"
"Well, now isn't that a coincidence-I've been meaning to tell you the same thing!" Jim shook his head in mock wonder. "Shall we adjourn to the couch to discuss this matter further?"
"By all means." Matilda and Jim walked over to the couch arm and arm and sat down.
He put his arm around her shoulder. She tilted her face up and with his other arm, he reached over and held the back of her head with his hand as they kissed. Their tongues touched one another's at first timidly and then deeper with more and more abandon. Matilda liked the way he kissed her so firmly and yet tenderly. Apparently he had inherited more from his brother than just his good looks.
She reached up and took his hand and directed it down inside of her shirt over her breast. He ran his palm lightly over the center of it and his touch caused her nipple to perk up excitedly.
He stopped kissing her and withdrew his arm from around her shoulder.
"Is this all right with you?" he asked anxiously. He was used to struggling with virgins who didn't know what they were missing. But he didn't quite know who he was dealing with now.
"It certainly isn't!" said Matilda indignantly, "Why stop now? Let's fuck!" She began to undo the buttons on her blouse.
"Oh my!" His face turned scarlet, as did his cock when it swelled up at the sight of Matilda's beautiful breasts. "Oh my," he repeated, "I've never fucked before!"
"What ... ? You've never fucked before? And you're about to go to college, too! Come on and let me teach you the most important lesson you'll ever learn." She had already pulled her skirt off and next deftly freed his large cock from his pants. He followed her cue and quickly doffed his clothes.
"Now," she said as she lay back down on the couch and pulled him over on top of her, "first of all, you've heard the saying, 'a place for everything and everything in its place?' Well ... "
