Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. This story is made available under a Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial 3.0 Unported license. Please send feedback to rufusfugit at yahoo dot com. I write for enjoyment; my only payment is knowing that my writing has brought pleasure to others, so let me know what you think. All of my stories are at /files/Authors/rufusfugit and http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/rufusfugit.htm. New stories are posted on Mr. Double first. Membership has its privileges. I'd like to extend my thanks to the small group of deeply disturbed individuals who make up my fan base. :-) Also, please support asstr.org: bandwidth doesn't grow on trees. (For the original A House In Gross Disorder, see https://muse.jhu.edu/article/44333) Jenny's Couch Book IV: A House In Gross Disorder, part 9 (Mgg, Fg, tg, oral, mast, cons, semi-cons, exhib, drugs, rom) by Rufus Fugit "That's so beautiful," I mumbled. Renee raised her head and looked at me quizzically. "Huh?" When I didn't respond she laid her head back down on my shoulder and went back to stuffing her cock down Lilah's throat. I was sitting in the room's only armchair with Renee in my lap. I had put on my boxers to save my ass from the worn, scratchy upholstery. Renee was still naked and her bare back was hot and sweaty against my chest, her butt warm in my lap. Her legs were spread with her knees hooked over the chair's arms. The ten-year-old was positively purring as I roughly fondled her sprouting breasts. My fingers slipped over her sweaty nipples, tugging gently. I bounced the less-than-handfuls of mammary flesh in my cupped palm. My other hand rested on her abdomen, my middle finger at the top of her furrow, pushing her clitoris from side to side. It was moist and hot and a little sticky. Occasionally I curled the digit to reach behind the strap-on she was wearing and stroke up the underside of her pleasure button. It made her squirm and make a soft whine in the back of her throat. Renee's legs were widely spread and Lilah knelt on the floor before us, naked except for a woven friendship bracelet around one stick-thin ankle and her spectacles askew on her face. Her blue eyes were wide and glassy, her pupils dilated. Her flyaway white-blond mop was damp with sweat and plastered to her cheeks and forehead. Moira had given her the weekend-strength dose of edible cannabis and E and as a result the child was high as a fucking kite. As soon as she'd walked in the door of the hotel room she'd thrown off a light plastic rain jacket to reveal her pale bare body beneath it, stepped out of her flipflops, and thrown herself onto the bed. "Give me a penis!" the child demanded, lisping slightly on the terminal S. She used the fingers of both hands to spread her cuntlips lewdly open and bounced her butt, pushing her bald ravaged sex towards us. Her thighs were covered with fading bruises as were the fat swollen pillows of her vulva. Between them was a gash of raw, unhealthy crimson. My spirit was always willing to despoil the tiny second-grader but after the two tremendous cums I'd had while engaging in by-turns anal sex with ten-year-old Renee, all I could manage was a slight throbbing ache in my poor tuckered out wonder worm. When I failed to rise to the occasion, Lilah looked wildly around the room until her glazed eyes settled on Renee's perfectly-erect and untiring cock. So now she gagged and gargled and coughed, spraying drool and mucus around the latex shaft filling her mouth. Renee had the younger girl's head in a firm two-handed grip, and was pulling her forward and back with enough force that it had to be uncomfortable. But Lilah didn't complain. She just looked up at us with those dazed blue eyes magnified by her eyeglass lenses, and stretched her lips to take another centimeter of cock down her seven-year-old throat. Renee shivered as another mini-climax swept through her. "Take my penis," she whispered hoarsely. "Take my penis, whore!" She shivered harder, legs twitching and toes curling. But I was looking past her, at the open door of the room. It was still raining, hard and steady now, and the gusty breeze had replaced the room's heavy reek of stale sex with the clean smell of ozone and wet asphalt. We were in the back facing the highway embankment and it was midday Saturday in a motel mostly used for lower-end business travel during the week, so I wasn't worried about anyone seeing the naked ten-year-old wearing a strap-on in my lap, or the naked seven-year-old kneeling before us getting it shoved into her gullet. In any case, anyone looking in would probably be distracted by the naked twelve-year-old making out in the doorway. Karen hadn't bothered to dress after her bath. Her "working" clothes were destroyed and there was no sense putting her play-clothes back on until she was ready to go home. She and Moira were standing in the doorframe passing a fattie back and forth, blowing the smoke out into the breezeway - this was a nonsmoking room, after all. As the marijuana took effect on the twelve-year-old her posture softened, her eyes got big and liquid, and the twitchy energy of sexual frustration slowly drained out of her. She looked up, locking eyes with Moira. A smile tugged at one corner of Moira's mouth. For just a moment, she looked like her old self. She lifted the joint and, her bright green eyes boring into Karen's, reversed it and put the lit end into her mouth. Then she stepped forward, pressing herself against the preteen's bare body. Karen stretched her slender neck up, bringing their lips close together, almost touching. Her eyes widened, her expression questioning, yearning. Moira managed to widen her smile with her lips puckered around the handroll. Her cheeks puffed out slightly, and a thick jet of smoke blew from Moira's mouth. As fast as the dense blue cloud emerged from Moira's lips, it vanished between Karen's. The sixth-grader's pert breasts rose as her chest expanded. Her nipples were swollen and red and looked like they were straining towards Moira. When Karen had taken in as much smoke as her lungs could hold she clamped her lips closed and the remainder of the cloud roiled around the two, hiding their faces. Moira's hand disappeared into the fog and emerged holding the joint. As the smoke dissipated, it revealed the two, child and young woman, locked in a kiss. More smoke leaked from where their lips joined. Their tongues danced and twirled around each other. Karen moaned audibly and moved her naked body against Moira, wrapping her arms around Moira's neck. When Moira finally broke the kiss, Karen was panting and trembling, clearly overwhelmed by her arousal. Karen had been a prostitute since I had first raped her over a year ago when she was just eleven and while she was indiscriminate in her choice of partners - whoever had twenty dollars and would let her use their body to chase her next orgasm - her customer base was almost all male. She had been known to plead with her little sister when her craving got too strong. In her own mind she had already debased herself beyond rescue, so what was adding incest to her litany of sins? But even then, Renee took her like a man, fucked her with her artificial cock, often holding her down, pulling her hair, calling her names, all because I'd taught her that humiliation made Karen's pleasure and climax that much stronger. And that was true, at least to the extent that Karen's desperate addiction to sex could be called pleasure. But Moira, well, Moira was special. Moira was the first person outside her family to know Karen, to know she was a whore. The first person to know her as a person, that is, and not just a cock-socket. And Moira accepted her. True, she'd abused the little girl. She'd raped her, beaten her, humiliated her, tortured her, drugged her and pimped her out to strangers. But she also, to the extent her broken psyche was capable of it, loved her. She made love to her. She took Karen under her wing and taught her. She taught her how to troll for tricks so she could find and fuck the boys and men she needed to keep the burning, unslakable lust in her cunt at bay, if for just a little while. Karen lunged into another kiss, moaning loudly enough for me to hear over the hiss of rain hitting the parking lot. Moira was wearing a simple sleeveless blouse with a Peter Pan collar and Karen fumbled with the buttons, at the last almost tearing it open, exposing a lacy white bra. Fortunately the lingerie had a front closure. Karen was shaking too hard to have managed a high-school reacharound. Moira's breasts popped free, beautiful and round, still high and supple. She might be almost twice Karen's age but that was still just old enough to drink legally. Her nipples were large and brown. Karen pressed herself up, rubbing her barely-formed breasts against Moira's. Her naked thighs closed around Moira's jeans and she began to hunch herself almost frantically. The sound of wet skin on fabric was clear, and a dark stain appeared on the blue denim. "Moiraaaa...." she whined. "It's okay, kitten," Moira whispered into her open mouth. "I got you," She ran her hands down Karen's sides, passing her thumbs over Karen's swollen nipples. Her fingers stroked the wet skin over her ribs. One hand went around to rest in the small of Karen's back. The other reached down, sliding over the tuft of blond, soft pubic hair that Karen had recently allowed to grow back, down through her soaking slit. Karen spread her thighs and gasped as Moira briefly pinched her perineum between thumb and forefinger, then dragged her finger back up, barely grazing her swollen inner labia and then curling to stroke it up the underside of Karen's twisted, oversize clitoris. Karen swooned. Her legs buckled and she would have fallen but for her arms around Moira's shoulders. "AaaaaaaaaAAIE!" she yelped, and there was the sound of liquid splashing as hot cream bubbled out of her slit, drenching the leg of Moira's jeans and spattering on to the concrete just outside the door. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she broke the kiss, her head flopping back to smack against the door frame. Moira caught Karen as she collapsed. The muscles in her tan arms swelled as she lifted the sixth-grader off her feet without visible effort. It was two short steps in the small room and she lowered the naked, shivering child onto the other bed. Karen immediately spread her thin legs wide open, her bare feet hanging off either side of the mattress. Her clitoris was a burgundy knob, wrinkled and twisted and grotesquely oversized compared to her smooth, bald vulva. Her long blond hair was in wild disarray all around her head. Moira sat gracefully on the edge of the bad and gently brushed the sweaty strands away from Karen's face. She looked down at the naked preteen, her gaze intense yet blank. Her hand caressed Karen's face, tracing her lips, down over her neck. Gentle fingers circled Karen's breasts one after the other. The mounds were almost imperceptible with the child supine. She spiraled inward towards each nipple in turn, ending with a gentle tug and then bending to tongue the hot, swollen cherry-sized nubs. Karen gasped and arched her back, desperately trying to prolong the contact as Moira straightened. Moira's hand continued its slow journey down over Karen's stomach, tracing the outlines of her abs as the muscles tensed and jerked. She laid her palm flat on the child's lower abdomen, pressing briefly before twirling her finger in Karen's damp pubes. "Pleeeeeease," Karen begged. "Pleeeeeease." Her voice broke. Karen had definitely grown up some in the last year. Though her cheekbones and jawline had gained some definition, it was still the face of a young child with her wide blue eyes and slightly upturned nose. Likewise, her new breasts and the slight flare of her hips, the new curves of her calves showed hints of the woman she would become but her body was still soft and immature. The yearning lust in her expression, the sexual flush spreading across her upper chest were anything but childish. Her wanton position, with her legs spread wide and her swollen, weeping sex fully exposed belied her tender years. The scent of the gooey white cream smearing her thighs and oozing steadily from between her flowered cuntlips maybe wasn't the full musk of a grown woman but it was spicy, thick, and pungent, and it was strong enough in the small room to compete with the clean scent of rain blowing in through the open door. "I got you," Moira repeated softly as she trailed her fingers through the thick cunt honey coating Karen's smooth labia. She gently traced the outlines of the swollen inner lips, up and down, until her fingertips were coated with white, aromatic cream. Never breaking eye contact, she raised her hand and sucked her first two fingers into her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, twisting between and around the digits. When they were clean, Moira licked her lips. Karen moaned softly as her hand languidly dropped back to Karen's soaking quim. Again Moira teased Karen's labia and her pulsing opening, using just the lightest of touches, wetting her fingers with the gooey secretions of Karen's preteen passion. Again she lifted her hand to her mouth and slowly, luxuriously enjoyed Karen's taste. The third time she deliberately swiped her finger under her nose, leaving a smear of white on her Cupid's bow. By the fifth time, Karen was shivering and moaning, rolling her head from side to side on the pillow. Her spread legs were twitching and her chest heaved with her panting. Finally, Moira gave Karen relief. This time her fingers traced the heat of Karen's arousal up, down, up, down, but then instead of just teasing the opening, she stiffened her first two fingers and pressed. She gazed down dispassionately at the sixth-grader's bald sex as slowly, slowly, her digits disappeared inside. Karen arched her back, pushing her crotch to meet the penetration. "Oooooooooo, yessssssss, my babycunt," she sighed, Her hands came up to tangle in her thick hair. She drew heavy, sobbing breaths as Moira began to pump gently. I remembered the first time Moira had her fingers in Karen's cunt. It was not even an hour after they had first met. Moira had put Karen in the back seat of her car while I drove. She hadn't even bothered to strip the little girl before she started fingerbanging her, though that followed soon enough. Before long she'd had Karen trembling on the edge of climax...and there she'd held her. Every time Karen's legs had started twitching in anticipation and her breath got ragged, Moira paused, just resting her finger inside Karen's tight preteen cunt. Before the end of the short drive Karen's undeveloped body had been drenched in sweat, but shivering and goosebumped despite the noontime heat. Her vulva and had been bright red, her oversized clitoris standing up and begging for relief. And now, Moira knew Karen's body and the rhythms of its arousal even better. She pumped her fingers into the preteen's gaping vagina slowly but forcefully. On each outstroke there was a wet, sticky sound as hot cream oozed out. On each instroke, a light queef as air bubbled through the thick secretions. Karen was moaning softly, continuously. Moira took her thumb and with the very lightest of touches pushed it up, along Karen's blood-flushed inner lips to the underside of her clit. It was a fat, twisted knob, flushed almost purple with blood, swollen and curled down around itself. Moira dragged her thumbnail up the narrow ridge of scar tissue, souvenir of her unfortunate Christmas adventure, forcing the wrinkled bud to stretch out and straighten. Karen gasped, her blue eyes opening wide but unseeing, as even more pleasure flashed through her barely-pubescent body. Moira began twiddling her thumb around and around Karen's clitoris, pushing it up, down, side to side, increasing and lessening the pressure, teasing Karen as her whole body began to shiver and twitch. "Ooooooooh god, ooooooooh jeez," Karen moaned over and over, shoving her soaking crotch into the air as Moira, giggling, withdrew her hand each time, preventing Karen from forcing any more contact than Moira was willing to give her. Before long Karen was sobbing in frustration, tears streaming down her temples and wetting her tangled hair. Her face was bright red and her nose was running. Without stopping her slow, deliberate masturbation of the child, Moira leaned forward slowly until she locked eyes with the sixth-grader. Then, grinning, she leaned further until their lips met. Karen lunged upwards, wrapping her arms around Moira's neck and mashing their lips together. She kissed avidly, hungrily, her tongue thrusting into her molester's mouth. Moira held the kiss for a few seconds, then nibbled gently at the younger girl's lower lip. A full-body shudder went through Karen, doubtless remembering previous times when Moira had drawn blood. But Moira was gentle. Her brown curls hid her face as she kissed Karen's chin, then down her neck. Her tongue snaked out and traced Karen's collarbone, licking up the sweat coating her pale skin. She kissed around each scant breast, flicking swollen nipples with her tongue, then slowly worked her way further down as Karen moaned and writhed beneath her. Moira painted her tongue back and forth across Karen's prominent mons Venus, back and forth, pushing the soaking wet tuft of pubic hair from side to side. Then, after taking one last trip over the top of the shivering child's mound, she swooped down and sucked Karen's clitoris whole into her mouth, clamping her lips and nibbling gently. I had seen Karen in the throes of orgasm more times than I could count. The little girl went off like dynamite, like an explosion, like a volcano. Her cums were more spectacular than any grown woman I'd ever dated. When she came she looked helpless, like her body was a leaf in a tornado, wracked by spasms she could neither control nor even understand. But this time was different. If what I had seen of her climaxes before was a tsunami, destroying everything in its path, this was the tide coming in, surging, implacable, but gentle, renewing rather than destroying. Karen arched her back and stretched her neck, tilting her head as far back as it could go. Her spread legs came up and then she wrapped them around Moira's head, draping them over her shoulders,linking her ankles and resting her bare heels on Moira's back. She reached down and tangled her fingers in Moira's hair. She made a noise that was not a scream, not a cry of desperation, but a long, drawn-out sigh of pleasure and release. It sounded like "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," and went on until her lungs were empty. Then she drew in a deep breath, her chest rising as her lungs filled. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed again. And again. Her belly rippled with slow, deep contractions. With each sigh, Moira's gentle nursing at Karen's pleasure button turned to loud slurping as a fresh surge of hot cunt cream bathed her face. Finally, the tide receded. Slowly all the tension drained out of Karen's body, leaving her limp, naked form prostrate on the bed. Her knees fell open and her hands fell away from Moira's curls to rest on the bedspread. Karen's head rolled to the side. She looked over at me and her little sister with such a peaceful expression on her childish features that all I could do was repeat myself. "That's so beautiful," I murmured as Karen's blue eyes drifted closed and she seemed to fall asleep right there with a beatific smile on her face. Moira sat up, looking not a little dazed herself. Her nose, lips, cheeks, chin - the entire lower half of her face - were smeared with Karen's thick, creamy sex juices. She crossed her left arm beneath her ample breasts, the hand unconsciously caressing her right nipple. Her other hand stole downwards and popped the button on her jeans. Then it was down inside. Moira bent forward slightly and it was clear she was fingering herself. Her face went slack with pleasure for a moment - but suddenly she jerked upright. Her eyes went wide with horror. "No, Daddy!" she cried, and raised her arms to protect her face as if from a blow. She threw herself against the cinderblock wall, hard enough to rattle the tv on its flimsy stand, then collapsed, huddled in the corner. "No, Daddy!" she cried again. "I'm sorry, Daddy! Don't! Oh, don't!" and her voice dissolved into wild sobs. Karen was undisturbed in her slumber of sweet release, but not the rest of us. I half-stood. Renee slid off my lap and staggered, finding her balance with feet planted wide apart. Lilah jerked backwards causing Renee's fake penis to slide out of her throat. It bobbed, shiny with mucus, under the fluorescent glare of the overhead light. The seven-year-old turned around just in time to see her nanny get her feet under her, lunge upright, and run out the door, slamming it behind her. After a moment we heard her car start up, then tires spinning on wet asphalt as she tore around the building and out onto the street. I looked at the door. Renee looked at me. I looked at Lilah. Karen snored softly. Lilah looked at me. Renee looked at Lilah. Lilah looked at the door. Karen snored softly. I looked down to where my sticky penis was hanging out of the fly of my boxers and, much to my pleased surprise, starting to revive. "Well," I said to Renee, "we're going to have to take Lilah home. But," I grinned, "maybe not just yet." Renee wasn't a grinner, but one corner of her full lips twitched upwards.