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do anything for you, and I don't want you taking advantage of her
generosity, then dropping her later." Oh. I thought about it.
"Mother," I finally said, "I can't say I'll always be able
to treat Suzy as the most important girl in my life, like she is
now." (Mother seemed to brighten at these words.) "But, I'll
never just discard her like an old shoe, either. If Suzy steps
out of my life, it'll be because SHE feels it's right, not
because I chased her out. She may be too young for me to marry,
but I love her too much for that. So even if I DO find some
other girl, or girls, I'm not going to treat Suzy like dirt, just
to get rid of her. OK?"
Mother looked at me almost sadly, for just a moment. "I
suppose that's the best I can expect," she replied. "I know boys
your age think mostly about sex, and how to get it. That's why
you always try to take out the sluttiest girls you can find."
She sighed, then continued, "Someday you'll find out that sex
isn't everything, and see what a horrible mistake you made
passing up the chance of a lifetime."
25
I stared at my mother's retreating back in amazement. You'd
almost think my mother wanted me to MARRY the kid. At least it
was obvious that she didn't know it wasn't SEX that kept me from
entertaining the idea. Not after that wet-dream of a date the
other night! No, it was just that Suzy was too . . . too . . .
too young. I almost said "immature" but I couldn't bring myself
to insult Suzy that way, even in my mind. In some ways, the
little girl was more "mature" than I was. Still, MARRY a
thirteen-year-old? Her parents would have my balls, at the very
thought of me even thinking about their little girl like
that . . . then I remembered her mother's actions earlier. I
went to bed that night, thoroughly confused. I didn't even jack-
off.
Over the next three days, Suzy and I DID manage to "get-
together" . . . twice. The first time on Tuesday, we just
managed a quick blow-job on the back porch, before her parents
came out. I didn't even manage to get HER off, as I was just
reaching in her panties to finger her cute little twat, when we
were interrupted, by the door opening. Thankfully, I managed to
jerk my hand out of her panties, before anyone noticed the
obscene place it was in. Suzy turned around and licked a last
drop of my cum off her lips, before she turned back . . . .
If anyone had noticed the little girl with my white cum
drooling down her cheek . . . <Shudder.>
Wednesday, we just couldn't get together, no matter how hard
we tried. All day long, either she was busy, or I was. Not to
mention school taking up almost 3/4 of the day.
Thursday, we got lucky. My parents had to go to a meeting,
and Lonnie managed to get Chrissie out of our hair for almost an
hour. (Yet ANOTHER thing I owe my big sister for.) So Suzy and
I sneaked into my room, and "got it on."
Yes, we fucked. We were both too horny after almost a week
of thinking about what we had done 6 days earlier. So we got
undressed, got on the bed, and fucked like bunnies; cumming
within seconds of my sliding my thick prick up inside her tight
little hole. It had been too long, and we were too horny.
Still, feeling me ejaculate my sperm in her tight little tummy
was all Suzy needed to get off herself. She, it seems, was just
as frustrated sexually, as I was.
After that, we just lay there enjoying each other's company,
until I got hard enough to do it again. This time, not being so
frantically horny, I managed to bring the little girl to three
frantic orgasms with her tight little cunny squeezing violently
on my prick, before I finally lost it, and sent yet another thick
load of baby-juice splashing against the child's uterus. Damn,
that felt good. I had never even realized before that girls
could have multiple orgasms; thinking (with typical male-
chauvinism) that girls needed to feel a man squirting inside them
to have a climax . . . not realizing that most girls never even
knew when a guy DID climax (if he did) inside her, as they can't
feel it. It's only their partners thrusting and excitement they
feel, and the slick sensation they get afterwards, when his thick
sperm comes drooling out.
26
Once I knew better, I always tried to see that any girl I
fucked had at least two or three orgasms to my one. Maybe that's
why I've never yet lost a lover.
Huh? Yes, I mean just that. I may not be still fucking all
the girls I met, but we never "broke up" and I'm certain that any
or all of them would still "go to bed" with me, as long as both
their current partner and mine wouldn't be hurt by the exchange.
And (luckily) not one of them has gotten jealous about the fact
that she knew I was screwing someone else. I understand that's
extremely rare for so many girls. Many girls are NOT jealous,
but enough are that I must be unbelievably lucky to have never
met that type . . . .
Or, thinking about it, maybe I'm just lucky to have a big
sister who knows what's best for me . . . as Lonnie had
introduced me to each of them. Damn! That's yet ANOTHER thing I
owe my sexy big sister.
After "getting it on the bed" <Giggle> Suzy and I barely had
time to shower together and get cleaned up, before my little
sister and Lonnie returned. I think Chrissie was suspicious
about what her big brother and the girl-next-door had "been up
to" but she didn't say anything. At least, THAT night I went to
bed satisfied enough that I didn't have to jack-off.
It was only then, that I remembered I hadn't even thought of
talking with Suzy about what Mother had suggested. Oh well, even
if mother WAS right, then there would be weeks, months, even
years before I really had to worry about which girl I was going
to choose for a life-partner.
Besides, I had heard many times, "You DON'T just pick the
first girl you have sex with to marry! Your mind is too
saturated with emotions, at being grateful for getting your first
'piece' to think straight. Get some experience first. Go out
and get laid by other girls. DON'T just jump in, it may be a
tar-pit."
Still, being "stuck" with Suzy the rest of my life, didn't
seem to be such a terrible fate.
On the other hand, I had at lest four more dates and weeks
to compare the little girl against. Perhaps my big sister DID
know what was best for me.
Perhaps? No "perhaps" about it. My big sister was taking
VERY good care of me. Why, I don't know. Damn, I love
her . . . .
Too bad I can't marry my own sister. Not that she'd
probably have a jerk as stupid as I am.
Thoughts like these were getting me nowhere. I loved Suzy,
but she was too young. I loved Lonnie, but she was my sister. I
began to wonder if there was a "right" girl in the world for me,
or did they all have "buts" attached.
I finally decided that both girls might not be "right" for
me, but that didn't have to stop me from loving both of them.
With that momentous decision, I went to sleep.
27
Chapter 4
Date #2.
Friday (again). I already had a suspicion of who my big
sister was setting me up with this time. But this time Lonnie
was playing it close, just telling me to pick up my date in front
of the library at 6:00. I jittered all day.
I did manage to see Suzy once, but we only managed a quick
kiss, which her mother saw. The beaming smile the older woman
sent my way afterwards had me blushing for hours. I wondered
just how much she knew or suspected about my "relationship" with
her little girl. I STILL didn't have time to talk properly to
Suzy, though she DID clear up one worry; telling me that she
"didn't mind" my going out on dates with other girls. She
actually expected it; knowing that I was an "older boy", I would
want to have "proper" dates with girls my own age. She just
appreciated that I was willing to spend a little of my time with
a "kid" like her.
By the time I had to go, I felt guilty about even thinking
she wasn't "adult" enough for me. Suzy put things in a better
perspective, when she pointed out that I would STILL be going out
with these other girls, even if she WAS the same age as I was.
Somehow that made me feel better.
Suzy had been very much the "proper" date. (Or was that
"Improper-date"?) Doing things for and with me, that most older
girls wouldn't have. Still, I got into this thing wanting
girlfriends . . . plural. And I had promised my sister I would
go out with whoever she set me up with, NOT just the first one.
Even if she DID give me the best (and only) fuck of my life.
Since Suzy didn't seem to mind, even telling me to "enjoy
myself", I decided I was silly to feel like I was "cheating" on
her.
"Now you go out and have a good time," said Suzy, before
sending me home.
"Now you go out and have a good time," said Mother, before
she left.
"Now you go out and have a good time," said Lonnie, before
sending me to the library.
I began to wonder if there was a conspiracy here. OK . . .
I'd try to have a "good time" just like I promised.
Somehow it wasn't all that much of a surprise, when I found
Betty-Lou Harris sitting on the library steps waiting for me. I
had a good chance to look her over from the side, before she
noticed me coming up.
Despite the earlier comments, Betty-Lou wasn't all THAT bad
looking. In fact, if you ignored her buck teeth, and slightly
angular face, she might even pass for pretty, in a plump sort of
way. Her curves were in all the right places, even if there were
more of them than you expected.
28
Even her "buck" teeth weren't really all that bad; being in
fact just a slight overbite, that would easily be corrected by a
few months of wearing braces. I wondered why her parents hadn't
sent her to an orthodontist? Betty-Lou might actually be
beautiful, if you liked the "Reubens" type, if she just got her
teeth fixed, and used a little makeup to make her cheeks not look
so gaunt. It was about then, that I did a double-take, as I got
closer, and from two feet away on one side, noticed something
that wasn't usually visible from the front. Betty-Lou WAS using
makeup! Only instead of using rouge to make her cheeks look
blushed and healthy, she had used something dark, to make her
face look dark and pinched. It HAD to be deliberate. I wondered
why, but decided it would be decidedly unpolitic to ask my date
why she had decided to "make herself look ugly." Maybe when (and
if) we became friends, I could either point out that she'd look
better without makeup, than what she was using, or perhaps find
out why she wore it the way she did. Perhaps, she was trying to
look thin? If anything, the gaunt look to her face almost
emphasized her slightly overweight status. And her clothes did
the same thing . . . it's as if the girl didn't WANT to look
attractive, just a little below normal.
I put the un-date-like thoughts out of my mind and walked
closer to where I could almost read her book over her shoulders.
NOT a book from the library; a paperback of some kind.
I coughed to get her attention.
You'd think I had set off a firecracker behind her. She
almost jumped three feet, from a sitting position. The book went
flying, and so did she. So did I almost, as a fist went flying
by my face, and it was only by ducking that I didn't end up on
the ground with a sore jaw.
"Sorry," I apologized, "I didn't mean to startle you."
For a second, Betty-Lou looked at me; recognized who I was,
and a smile spread over her face. It was almost like the sun
came out. With a smile like that, she was beautiful; buckteeth
or no buckteeth. I felt sandbagged.
If Betty-Lou wore a smile like that in school, she could
easily win the race for class-president, or whatever popular post
she wanted. Once again, I was falling in love.
Betty-Lou saw me staring at her, and must have realized her
face had slipped. A scowl darkened the beauty, and she was once
again the class dog. "So what are YOU staring at?" she almost
snarled. "If you don't like my face, you can just bug-off. I
don't really need this date, you know."
I felt like a puppy that had been kicked. I guess it showed
on my face.
"Damn!" she said, "Why do I DO that, to the nice guys, and
drool all over the ones who shit on me?" The scowl changed to a
wistful appeal. "I'm sorry Mark," she apologized, "but you
startled me. It's no excuse for biting your head off, but it's
the only one I've got. Please?"
I didn't know what to think. Still, it wouldn't be fair to
NOT let her apologize.
29
"I'm Mark," I said; deciding that maybe she wasn't so bad
after all. "I'm supposed to be your date for tonight. Of
course, if you don't want to . . . ."
This time Betty-Lou DID let the "face" slip . . .
deliberately, I could tell. "I'm Betty," she said, "as you well
know. The class dog, and now the class bitch."
I started to object, but she cut me off. "I know what I
am," she said. "I'm NOT beautiful and just now I almost cut your
head off for just looking at me. If that's not being a bitch,
what is?"
I felt the accusation was still a bit unfair. "I don't
think you're a dog," I said.
This time, Betty-Lou giggled. It looked good on her, as her
face now had a smile back on it. "But you have to agree that I
WAS a bitch," she pointed out. "And what's a bitch, but a female
dog?"
It seemed that I had fallen into a trap of some kind, where
I was damned if I answered, and damned if I didn't. I tried
smiling dutifully.
"Well, you ARE a nice guy, just like they said you were,
aren't you?" she decided. "This time, let me apologize properly.
I was testing you."
"Huh?" I said.
She grinned at me. This time it was a warm friendly grin.
"I try to look like the class dog," she explained, "because
it's easier to separate out the nice guys from the ones who just
want to get in your pants."
"Oh," I said, to keep up my end of the conversation.
"A moment ago you caught me without me being prepared, and I
could tell you thought I was beautiful," she continued. "I'm
not, but it's hard to chase off the bastard-types, if they think
you look sexy, so I tried acting like an SOB myself, to see if
you'd at least be polite . . . you were. Thanks."
"This is all an act?" I asked. "The constant frowns, the
dark makeup, the frumpy clothes? the whole bit?"
"Oh, you caught that too?" she twinkled. "Not only a nice
guy, but smart, too. Yes, it's mostly an act. I'm not very good
looking to begin with, and the buckteeth help; but mostly it's
the way I act, dress, and yes you caught me, use makeup."
"I think you're beautiful," I said, and meant it.
"Thanks, Mark," she said, and laughed. "But don't tell
anybody, or I'll have to cut you off." For a moment she looked
so fierce, I wondered if she meant my head.
"I won't tell," I promised.
"Good," she said, "Only try to stop LOOKING at me, as if I
were some kind of goddess, OK. I'm not. Now if you want someone
beautiful, look at Marsha Swiggins. Now THERE is a girl who's
beautiful."
"Yeah," I said, "and cold as ice. I'd rather have a real
girl like you, than the 'Ice-Queen' any day of the week."
"You never can tell," said Betty-Lou, enigmatically. "In
the meantime, what are we doing tonight? You ARE supposed to be
taking me on a date, you know."
30
"Anything you like," I responded. "I've got enough money to
take you to the Movies, to the drive in, to dinner, or any place
you like. How about right here, at the library, for starters?"
"Huh?" This time it was Betty-Lou's turn to look
sandbagged.
"You like books," I pointed out; picking up the slightly
abused paperback from the ground and dusting it off. "So do I."
I handed her the soft-cover and waited for her reply. Hmmm . . .
dragons on the cover?
Betty-Lou took the book, and then followed my gaze to the
title: "DragonSong"
"I'm sorry," she said again, "but I was reading about this
girl who was running to outrace . . ."
". . . Thread," I supplied, curious to see her reaction.
"You've READ it?" she asked, astonished. "I thought only
girls liked books like this."
"One of my favorite authors," I affirmed. For ONCE, being a
bookworm was actually being a help getting a girl interested in
me, instead of a hindrance.
"In fact," I said; watching closely to see her reaction, "I
have four copies of that book alone . . . she's one of my
favorite authors."
"FOUR copies," she breathed, incredulous. "Why four?"
"One I've almost worn out re-reading," I enumerated, "One to
replace that one, and TWO autographed copies that I got at two
different stores when she came to town last year. She makes
these tours about every five years or so, to promote her books."
"TWO autographed copies," she breathed; unable to
contemplate such wealth. "I couldn't talk you out of one of
them, could I?" she asked almost wistfully. I knew she didn't
really expect an affirmative reply.
I thought about it. What did I really need TWO autographed
copies for, except for purposes like this? They hadn't cost me
any more than the regular price, plus standing in line for two
hours for each one.
"You could for a price," I decided; giving her a grin.
"Would a blow-job do?" she grinned right back. "Ask anyone
who knows, Betty-Lou Harris gives the best blow-jobs in town."
"That was NOT quite the deal I had in mind," I said, with
disappointment.
Betty looked at me, her eyes going as cold as mine. "OK,"
she decided, "A fuck AND a blow-job, and when it's over you get
lost. When I finish, the date is over. A date like you, I can
do without."
"How about I just GIVE you the book, and we call the date
off right now," I said with disgust. "A mercy-fuck, I don't
need. You can have the book, just don't tell anybody I gave it
to you, OK? Then YOU can get lost."
"I'll be right back," I added, starting back towards my
house. Shit. I couldn't believe it. A beautiful (Yes, I still
thought she was beautiful, buckteeth and all.) girl offers to
fuck me for less effective cost than going out on a date would
be, and I not only turn her down cold, I throw the price of the
fuck in her face. Talk about having a bad taste in your mouth!
31
"Mark?" A soft voice from behind me called out. I kept
walking. I'd get the bitch her damned book, and then go home to
cry. Lonnie was going to have to do a LOT to make THIS night
turn out to be a "good time."
"PLEASE, Mark," The voice was almost crying. I almost kept
walking anyway. Still, just because SHE was an SOB, didn't mean
I had to be. "What?" I sighed, turning around and almost running
into her. Betty-Lou was right behind me, and she WAS crying.
Now I felt like a heel.
"PLEASE let me explain," she sobbed. "You're the nicest guy
I ever met, and three times I've shit all over you. I KNOW it
isn't fair, but could you please let me explain? Please? I
don't want your damned book! No, I mean I DO want it,
but . . . .
Oh shit!" and she sat down and literally bawled.
Well, some people enjoy pulling wings off butterflies, but I
don't. I sighed; sat down beside her, and (greatly daring) put
my arm around her.
She turned into me, and for a few minutes wet the shoulder
of my shirt. "I don't know WHY I always do this," she sniffled.
"It seems I take shit from all the bastards, and just smile.
Then when I meet a nice guy I turn around and treat him like the
dirt that treated me rotten last time." She wiped her eyes on my
sleeve, and continued. "I get lots of guys who go out with me,
just to get laid," she explained. At my raised eyebrows, she
continued, "You mean you DIDN'T know I'm called 'round-heels-
Betty'?"
I just looked at her, and she started crying again. "No,"
she decided, "you didn't. But your sister did. She even
explained to me that was one reason she wanted me to go out with
you tonight, so you could 'get a little experience.' Your
sister's nice, and I owe her a favor or two. Besides, you
sounded cute, and I get laid all the time by macho jocks and a
few nice-guys trying to get access to the 'Ice-Queen'. A roll in
the sack with a bookworm nerd, might be fun for a change, or so I
thought."
For a moment, I was almost angry at Lonnie, but then
realized she was just 'doing her thing'; trying to get me the
experience she figured I needed. She never intended that either
Betty-Lou OR I would get hurt. If not for the indiscreet cough,
and the book incident, we would have both had fun, and I probably
would have gotten laid by a real expert. No, my big sister
wasn't to blame.
"Anyway," Betty-Lou continued, "as I said, most boys go out
with me just to get laid, and I don't really mind; 'cause I'm
just as horny as they are. They don't call me 'round-heels' for
nothing. Just touch me, and I roll over."
32
Here, the girl giggled, but it was more of a sob than mirth.
"So when you said you would give me that book, 'for a price' I
thought you were like all the rest of the SOBs, and here I had
thought you were nice. So I decided, 'What the heck? He ain't
all that bad looking, and I was planning on fucking him anyway.
But if that's all he wants, why go through the farce of going on
a date?' So for the third time tonight, I not only put my foot
in my mouth, I practically choked to death on it. PLEASE let me
start over. I don't really want the book now. Please?"
Betty-Lou looked up at me; and then tears started running
down her cheeks again.
"You never DID ask me what my price was," I said gently.
"It's still the same."
"Huh," she asked, "what DID you want from me?"
For a second, the old calculating look returned to her face,
then vanished into more tears.
"It'll be a little bit harder for you to pay me, right now,"
I observed; tilting her face up so I could see it. "You see, all
I wanted from you was a smile."
"A smile?" incredulous; not believing.
"Uhuh, a smile. When I first walked up to you, you
accidentally let your mask slip, and gave me a smile like the sun
coming out. I wanted to see it again. So, I thought that if I
just teased you by 'charging' you a smile for the book you seemed
to want, but that hadn't cost me much, (Only two hours of waiting
in line in the hot sun, but I didn't tell HER that.) I thought I
might get a REAL smile from you by accident-on-purpose. It seems
I was wrong. You can have the book. You can smile or not, as
you please. Maybe some other week, we can go out on a REAL date,
where you don't feel pressured to 'put-out' just because my
sister thinks I 'need it.' I don't. I'm sorry you felt like I
was trying to pressure you into something; even if you wanted it.
OK?"
I got up; almost creaking in the effort, and started back
home, which was only a few blocks away. "I'll be right back," I
said. "PLEASE don't go away, as I really DO want you to have it.
As I said, she's one of my favorite authors, and it would be a
pleasure to give it to someone who likes her half as much as I
do. Especially a pretty girl."
I'm not sure Betty-Lou even heard me.
"A smile," she mumbled to herself. "A Goddamned SMILE, and
I treat him like slime you find on your shoe, after walking
through the barnyard."
She looked up at me, where I was walking away, and yelled at
me. "Hey YOU!" she yelled, "You are NOT getting away that easy!
It's damned rare I get a date with even a nice guy. You are NOT
cheating me out of this one."
Here, the girl caught up to me; hooked her arm through mine,
as if she was my steady girlfriend, and smiled at me. It was
forced; tears still streaked her face, but it WAS a smile.
"Paid-for," I said.
The smirk I got in return, was more like the real thing.
"Let's forget about the book for now," she pleaded. "We can
pick it up when we get back to your house later . . . I've got
PLANS for you, Big Boy. OK?"
33
"Uh?" I said, suddenly leery, "Plans?" For a second, Betty-
Lou had looked like the vampire in "Dracula" who had "plans" for
the innocent girl.
"Uhuh," she said, not daunted a bit. "FIRST, I'm going to
show you off, while we get something to eat. THEN, we'll really
get rolling . . . your sister told you you'd have a 'good time'
on this date, didn't she?"
I nodded carefully; not sure how much of my sister's
"guarantee" that Betty-Lou knew about, or even SHOULD know about.
"Well Honey," she said, "you ain't NEVER had a 'good time'
'til you've been on a date with Betty-Lou Harris!"
Before I could object, (not that I wanted to) we were in the
Burger-Mill, in the same booth I had occupied the previous
Friday. Even the same waitress.
"A little older tonight," I see, said Carol, cattily, her
green eyes taking in Betty-Lou's lush body, in comparison to the
little girl I had been squiring the previous week.
"Oh can it, Carol," said Betty-Lou. "He's OK . . . I mean
REALLY OK." Here the plainer girl gave the waitress a wink.
"Hmmm," said the waitress; giving me an even more interested
look than she had given me the previous week. "Maybe I HAD
better talk to his sister."
"Maybe you should," commented Betty-Lou.
I wondered just what was going on, and who was setting who
up for a date? I didn't get any answers that night though . . .
at least, not about that.
After finishing off about 2/3 of a pizza, Betty and I
returned to my house to pick up the autographed copy of Anne
McCaffrey's "DragonSong". Only we never made it out of the
bedroom where I had it stashed.
"I told you that everyone who goes out with Betty-Lou Harris
has a good time," she told me, while starting to take off my
shirt while I was still sorting through my special box of
autographed books. "And YOU tiger, are going to have the best!"
Well, I guess I did. THIS time though, I remembered to ask about
birth-control first.
"It's OK," she reassured me, "though I would have been
disappointed, if you hadn't asked."
"Then you're on the pill?"
"Nope." <Giggle.> "Diaphragm. I'm allergic to the pill.
Still, it's almost as good."
After that, once I got up enough nerve to kiss her, the rest
of the night was like a continuous wet-dream. Little Suzy has a
LONG way to go, as a lover . . . .
Much as I like the feel of her tight little slit squeezing
the sperm out of my swollen prick; a tight cunny isn't
everything.
Betty-Lou STARTED by sucking my cock; and worked up from
there. She made love to me. Mostly the sex I had with Suzy had
just been fucking. I learned quickly that while sticking your
prick in a girl's tight little hole, and squirting it full of
thick sticky cum is fun; it's only ONE aspect of the many facets
of having sex. Betty-Lou knew ways I'm STILL trying to learn,
34
First, as I said, she sucked my cock. Only that's almost an
insult to her talents. For over 20 minutes, B-L would lick the
head, down the side, and sometimes tease me by taking the head
inside her mouth. Then, she would play with it a little, until
my urge to spurt her mouth full of thick white goo subsided, and
she started all over again. When finally I warned her, "Oh God,
Betty, I'm gonna . . . ;" she stopped and moved up my body.
"THIS one," she said; panting hotly in my ear, "I'm going to
get inside me. Next time, you can squirt it right down my
throat."
Oh shit. Hearing those words, coupled with a tight ring
sliding down my engorged prick, while the sensual feel of a
female body squirming in front of me almost blew my mind, was too
much. Betty-Lou had barely managed to get my prick all the way
inside her, before I was filling her sucking young womb with
squirt after thick sticky squirt of thick white goo. Only in
this, as in so many other things having to do with sex, Betty-Lou
had almost perfect timing. I WAS fully bottomed out inside her,
when the urge got to be too much, and I felt the (by now)
familiar pulsations in the head of my prick that told me I was
ejaculating my seed in this incredibly young woman's body.
I'm not sure if she got off that time, but the tight
squeezing of her cunny sure FELT like she did. Still, she
probably just had lots of practice at making a man feel good.
And oh could she EVER do that. (As I found out when she kept her
promise about swallowing my cum, the second time. She DID have
me cum down her throat; having me fuck it just like a cunt. I
could hardly believe that she'd want to, but B-L managed to
convince me.) THEN, she fucked me AGAIN! This time took a LOT
longer, and Betty-Lou must have cum over 6 or 7 times, before I
managed to get up enough energy to ejaculate yet another thick
white helping of baby-juice in her sexy belly.
Three hours later we were lying in bed exhausted; sperm
dribbling from every orifice of hers, while we tried to muster up
energy for a fifth go-round. The girl had taught me things about
lovemaking, that I didn't even know were there to be learned.
French-kissing for example. Not to mention methods of
cunnilingus and fellatio that were astounding.
Here I thought a girl was just supposed to suck a cock, and
a guy was just supposed to stick his tongue in a girl's slit, and
they both had fun that way. According to Betty-Lou, "That's just
for amateurs!" And then, she proceeded to prove it.
Damn! Once again, my big sister had picked just the right
girl to tutor me in the parts of sex I needed most to learn. One
MORE thing I owe her.
"How did you ever learn so much about sex?" I asked, while
we lay there in bed; just enjoying the feel of naked-skin
touching naked-skin, while we tried to get up enough energy for
yet one more try.
"Hmmmm," she teased; taking one of my nipples between her
teeth. "You mean besides having at least three different guys in
my bed every week for the past 5 years?"
I shivered at the thought that this sexy broad had been
enjoying sex since she was barely into puberty, while I waited
miserably until I was 16.
35
"Or," she continued, "is it besides the fact that I've read
the Kama Sutra and tried almost 3/4 of the positions that don't
require special equipment?"
Oh God. The mind just boggles. I had just LOOKED at my
father's copy.
"OR," she continued, teasing the other nipple now, "is it
the fact that I started fucking my own father when I was six?"
"That must be it," she decided, looking at my suddenly re-
erect penis. "So what do you want to know about me and Daddy?"
I couldn't believe she would even tell me this. Still, I
just HAD to hear more. "Tell me about your father," I croaked,
just like the old "Eliza" program.
"Mmmm," she purred. "Me and Daddy go back a long way. When
I was a kid, I used to sleep between Him and Momma, until I got
too big . . . I think it was when I was about three. Momma tried
to get me to sleep in my own bed, but being a spoiled little
brat, I kept sneaking out of my crib, and down into their bed,
where I always slid in beside Daddy. He didn't squirm like Momma
did; actually wrapping his arms around me, and snuggling up.
This continued until I was 6, or thereabouts. By that time, I
had watched Momma and Daddy 'making love' many times, as they
just couldn't hide it from me. Since I didn't seem to be
bothered by it, after a while, neither did they. I knew Daddy's
big 'thing' went up in Momma's hole to make a baby; as I had
watched the whole process take place at least twice by that time.
I knew Daddy had erections, and got 'horny' until he 'got
off' by squirting his sperm in Momma. Sometimes Momma didn't
feel like fucking, but usually she would do it for Daddy, even if
she didn't. Momma loved Daddy, just like I did.
So, one night I was lying there next to Daddy, and his thing
got big between my legs. It probably had happened many times
before; only this was the first time I really noticed it. I knew
what it meant though . . . Daddy wanted to put his thing up
inside Momma, so he could squirt his stuff in her. Only Momma
was asleep. So, I did what seemed to be the most natural thing
in the world. I let Daddy fuck me.
Uhuh. Daddy was 3/4 asleep himself, but horny as an old
goat, so I decided it was up to me to take Daddy's stuff inside
me, since Momma was asleep. I carefully slid my panties down,
and pushed Daddy's thing up against my hole. Of course, it
wouldn't go in."
Here Betty-Lou and I were lying side-by-side, as she
"demonstrated" to me how she had tried to take her father's prick
inside her, at the tender age of only 6 years old.
"Only I knew what to do about that, too," she continued.
"By that time, Daddy's erection had gotten REALLY stiff, and
clear stuff was leaking out the tip. I knew what this stuff was
for, after watching my parents, so I spread it all over Daddy's
prick (bringing a groan from him) and then slid it up inside me.
Uhuh, I fucked my own father. Or Daddy fucked me . . .
whichever.
36
At first, it STILL wouldn't go all the way in, but a sudden
shove from Daddy took care of that. What's that? No, it didn't
hurt. I don't know if I had a hymen, and Daddy 'busted my
cherry' that night, and I just didn't feel it, or I was one of
those lucky girls who just don't have one. Anyway . . . three
strokes after sliding inside me for the first time, Daddy lost
it; squirting great gobs of sticky white stuff up inside me,
while moaning "Oh, Betty," in my ear, over and over again;
showing that Daddy knew it was ME he was fucking, not Momma. I
was so happy! Now I could love Daddy just like Momma did. Well,
you know it didn't stop. Two nights later, I woke up to feel
Daddy's thick thing sliding between my legs, as he lifted my leg
to get inside me. I didn't object. Heck, I was GLAD Daddy
wanted to "use me" to jack off into. This continued for about a
week, until Momma caught on. Either Daddy would get an erection,
and I would slip his big 'thing' up inside me, or I would wake up
to feeling his thick prick forcing it's way into my body. In
either case, Daddy would push at me, and I would push back at
Daddy, until he squirted his stuff inside me. Then he would pull
out and go to sleep. Only as I said, Momma caught us. I never
even thought that Momma would mind me helping Daddy out,
especially as she was sleeping at the time. As for Daddy, his
goose was cooked . . . at least, for a while.
I don't know if it was the 6th or 7th time Daddy fucked me,
when Momma woke up to the jiggling of the bed. I guess she was
used to this, as Daddy used to jack-off in the middle of the
night, quite often before he started using me to get off in.
Momma felt generous that night, so she reached around Daddy to
help him jack-off, and felt my pussy squeezing Daddy's prick,
instead of just his hand. Whoooeee!"
I'll say "Whooee! too. B-L's story had finally gotten to be
too much for me, and I erupted inside her tight little hole, just
like her father had, so many years before. Betty kissed me, said
"Thanks Mark; that feels almost as good as Daddy's did," before
continuing with her story with my now half-hard prick keeping my
sticky sperm from leaking out of her tight little hole.
"I bet I know something that will get you hard again," she
commented, as my prick finally started to wilt. "That way, you
can keep fucking me, while I tell you the rest."
I didn't think ANYTHING could get my prick up, after
squirting in her like that; but I knew better than to put this
incredible woman to the test. Betty-Lou Harris could give a
statue a hard-on, if she tried. "What's that?" I asked.
"You seem to be extra turned-on by the thought of my own
daddy ejaculating his sperm in me, while there was a chance of
him getting me pregnant," she replied. "It's only been about a
week since my last period; so I should be pretty safe now . . .
on the other hand, maybe not. How would you like to take a
chance?"
With this, Betty-Lou practically blew my mind away, as she
reached down between her legs and fumbled around for a minute
before extracting a pink rubber ring from inside her body.
37
"See," she said, holding it up for me to see. White streaks
and a thick liquid oozing from one edge, just emphasized the fact
that she had just removed the barrier between my seed and her
possibly fertile young womb. "That's the stuff that makes
babies, that you just squirted in me," she continued, matter-of-
factly. "How would you like to take a chance, and do it again;
this time without anything between your squirting prick and my
horny womb?"
Betty-Lou was right. She COULD give me a hard-on again. My
prick was aching again, at the very thought. This time, when my
prick slid into her on the lubrication of the sperm I had already
ejaculated inside her, and that was probably already wriggling
its way up inside her womb, we both sighed in satisfaction.
Well, if Betty wasn't worried about getting pregnant, then why
should I be? Once she had me comfortably inside her, with my
prick already leaking pre-cum inside her womb, Betty-Lou
continued with her story.
"Surprisingly," she said, "Momma didn't yell or anything.
In fact, she waited until Daddy squirted every drop he had inside
me, and I had snuggled down to sleep afterwards, before bracing
Daddy. 'YOU,' she said firmly, 'are coming with ME.' I guess
Momma didn't want me sexually traumatized by her yelling and
screaming, and yanking Daddy's thick cock out of me, when I
seemed to be enjoying it just as much as Daddy did. That part
was hard for Momma to understand. For the next three days, Daddy
slept in 'my' bedroom, while Momma 'protected me' from her
pedophile husband. Only I didn't WANT to be protected. It was
only on the third time that Momma caught me trying to sneak down
to 'my' bedroom to 'comfort' Daddy with my tight little hole,
since Momma obviously wasn't, that Momma gave into the
inevitable. At first, Momma was still mad at Daddy; jealous or
something. But eventually her anger subsided when she saw how
much we loved each other; and the sight of her little girl
getting fucked eventually got to her horny side too.
Before a month was out, Daddy would go from fucking me, to
fucking Momma, and then back inside me again, without hardly
missing a stroke. My second brother Larry got made during the
four years between the first time I fucked and the time I had my
first period." I think that I got more sperm shot up my hot
little hole in that time, than Momma did. After a while, Momma
seemed to lose all her inhibitions against incest, and actually
started encouraging Daddy to not only fuck me, but she made sure
he ejaculated as much of his potent sperm in my sucking little
slit as it could hold.
I sure didn't mind. Mind? Heck, I LIKED the feel of Daddy
'getting off' inside me, with his thick prick squirting hot
sticky gobs of sperm right up inside my uterus where it belonged.
Once Momma got over her hangups, quite often SHE would be the one
to start things by first 'jacking off' Daddy in me, and then
later being the one to actually put my father's thick prick up
against me, and help him work it into my body. After a year, I
was almost addicted to feeling my father's thick prick sliding in
and out of me, and found it hard to sleep, if I didn't have his
slippery cum dribbling out of my vagina, after he squirted inside
me.
38
The best part though, was when Daddy would be on top of me,
grunting and groaning as he tried to cum, while Momma actually
encouraged him to ejaculate his sperm in her little girl.
By now Betty-Lou and I were fucking again. Only this time
it was just a fun leisurely screw with no cares on either of our
parts on when or if either or both of us "got off" or not. It
was fun, just being joined sexually together like that."
"Was that it?" I asked. "Did any of your brothers or
sisters get involved?"
Betty-Lou grinned. "Not like I did," she said. "Oh, the
rest of the family knew all about me and Daddy; but none of them
ever got as 'hung up" on incest as I did. Not that they were
turned off by it either."
I raised my eyebrows; encouraging her to continue, while I
continued with MY job of sliding my prick in and out of her hot
little hole; keeping both of us happy. "So tell me about it," I
prompted, "what DID happen?"
"Not much really," she said, "beside Momma having Daddy fuck
each of my little sisters as a 'birthday present' on her 10th
birthday, so she could feel what it was like for a man to fuck
her and cum inside her without 'protection', while she could
still enjoy it without having to worry. Neither one minded
fucking Daddy; or was even all that surprised at our mother
having her husband "teach" them about sex; with his thick prick
squirting hot cum in their tight little bellies. After all, they
had all watched ME getting fucked by Daddy often enough. Having
our father fuck each of them with his bare prick squirting
incestuous seed in their wombs, while Mother actually encouraged
Daddy to TRY to get each of them pregnant, just like she had me,
was quite exciting to them.
None of them got hung up on it either though, like I did.
Oh, every once in a while one or the others of my little sisters
would have Daddy slip into her bed, where he'd spend the night
filling her tight little tummy with his sperm, and a couple of
times I caught my big brother and one of them 'making out' by
fucking in one of their bedrooms, when a date went sour. But it
never developed into a big family orgy either. They all seemed
to think it as OK to fuck someone in your own family, but none of
them was as enthused about the idea as I was. Fucking a relative
just didn't seem to turn them on, like it did me. Even I
eventually got over my crush on Daddy, but that was afterwards.
I interrupted her. "Afterwards?" I asked. "You mean that's
not all?"
B-L giggled. "You ain't heard nothin' yet pardner. Wait
until you hear about the first time Daddy got me pregnant!"
The "first" time? I almost choked!
"Afterwards," started Betty-Lou a second time, "things went
smoothly, with Momma's pregnancy causing less trouble than usual,
since I was there to take care of Daddy, when he needed sex.
After a while, Momma seemed to be as proud of seeing me take
Daddy's thick cock up inside me, as she was happy to feel it
spreading her own horny slit. As for me, I got so used to Daddy
sliding his prick up inside me, and squirting my hot little hole
full of sperm, that I almost couldn't sleep without feeling my
father's seed squishing inside me.
39
Sometimes I'd go to sleep with Daddy's thick cock inside me,
and not wake up even when he squirted baby-juice inside me three
or four times! It just soothed me to sleep, knowing my own
father was squirting the thick white stuff that made babies
inside me, where it belonged.
Even with Momma's pregnancy with Larry, not one of us gave a
thought about the chance of ME getting pregnant. I mean, even I
knew the stuff Daddy was squirting inside me, was the stuff that
made babies in little girls, but we all knew I was too young and
never even thought about it happening to me.
Or at least, neither Daddy nor I did . . . Momma, I'm not so
sure about. Sometimes I wonder if she didn't say anything,
because she WANTED me to get pregnant, (as long as I didn't
complain or object) as a kind of pay-back for preempting her
husband. Or, maybe she just felt that if I could fuck her
husband, then I could take my chances on having his babies, just
like she did. Whatever.
Anyway, I had my first period when I was 10; my second three
months later, and the third I didn't have until almost a year
after that; as by that time I was pregnant with my little sister
Carol. Momma never said a word through the whole pregnancy about
how we could have been using birth-control. It was only
AFTERWARDS, when I was going to start fucking Daddy again, that
she told me; and then only as a warning.
Actually Momma gave me a choice. ONE baby by my father, she
would allow me, and would raise it as one of her own children.
TWO babies were too expensive."
"So what did you do?" I asked; sliding in and out a little.
My erection was getting harder again, and Betty-Lou groaned in
appreciation. "Oooh," she said, "that's nice. Well, Momma gave
me a choice."
I raised my eyebrows, so she continued. "You see these
teeth," she asked; not bothering to wait for an answer. "Well,
so did Momma and Daddy. It seems they had been putting away
money for me, ever since I was 5, to have this corrected, once
they knew it was going to happen, just like it happened with
Grandma, and most of my aunts, and one of my uncles. I could use
the money to have my teeth fixed, when I was 13, or I could have
another baby at the same time. With the teeth, I would be
handsome and well-liked at school. With still another child to
support, things would get a little tight around the house, and I
would spend most of my free time babysitting.
For me, it wasn't a choice. I was pregnant with Daddy's
baby for the second time, six months after delivering the first
one. I had my second little sister by Daddy, barely a month
after I turned 13. Only this time, Momma had the whole family
watch, the first time Daddy actually TRIED to get me pregnant.
This was back before either of my little sisters had gotten
fucked yet, and while they knew about Daddy fucking me, they had
never actually watched the whole thing from start to finish
before. That night I lay on the floor in the living-room, in
front of the whole family, and actually asked my father to fuck
me, to cum in me, to squirt his sperm inside me, and to get me
pregnant with his baby. Daddy did.
40
Feeling Daddy breeding me, with the whole family knowing he
was not only cumming inside me, but actually TRYING to get me
pregnant was a thrill like I never had before. I was cumming so
hard myself, that I actually left teeth-marks in Daddy's shoulder
when I bit him in my orgasm. Daddy must have liked it almost as
much as I did, because it felt like he left about three gallons
of squishing in my vagina that night. I must have dribbled cum
for over two hours afterwards.
I think that was the day that Momma decided that each of her
girls should get to feel her father ejaculating his sperm inside
her vagina at least once, before she got old enough to go out on
dates of her own . . . so she wouldn't fall for the first guy who
got in her panties. So, when each of my little sisters turned 10
years old, for three days Momma had Daddy sleep with her, so that
each of my sisters got to know what it was like to have a man not
only screw her, but actually TRY to get her pregnant; with his
thick white sperm soaking into her unprotected womb where it
belonged. That way my sisters all got to enjoy several orgasms
with a real man making love to them, with no artificial barriers
getting in the way. After those first times though, Momma had
Daddy show each of them what condoms were, and how to use them.
She didn't want her girls getting pregnant when they didn't want
to (unlike me). As I said, Momma didn't want any of her
daughters having to marry the first man who got her panties down,
just because she didn't know anything about sex,
Me, I already knew, and HAD fallen for him. It wasn't until
after I finally started dating that I realized the validity of
Mother's idea. But by then I had already enjoyed feeling my own
father fucking me for almost 6 years, and carrying his babies
twice. Incest may not be for everybody; but I sure enjoyed it."
I couldn't help it. I blew yet another load of MY thick
seed in the sexy girl's sucking young womb; imagining how tight
she must have been to her father at only six. Even now, she
could squeeze my prick so hard it felt like it could be cut off,
when she had a climax. I wanted her to have LOTS of climaxes
with my prick inside her hot little hole.
"So, what happened after that?" I asked, as I caught my
breath after that final orgasm. I knew no matter HOW I felt, I
was done sexually for the night. Not that Betty-Lou seemed to be
disappointed; having gotten off about two times to my one, every
time but this last one.
"Not much," she said, "Momma put me on the pill after that,
and turned me loose on the boys. When I started showing up with
hives, and they determined I was allergic to the pill, Momma had
me fitted with a diaphragm.
41
Daddy's getting older now, and can't get it up as often;
while I'm just getting into my prime. Because I don't get out
often, being busy taking care of the kids all the time, Momma and
Daddy are both careful to NOT interfere on the nights I DO go
out. Especially Fridays and Saturdays. THEY babysit the kids
for me, two nights a week, while I babysit for THEM, the rest of
the week. That's why I'm such a bookworm. Besides that, I have
this 'arrangement' with Marsha, where we help each other out,
when it comes to finding decent men to fuck. Now you know my
life-story, and why I don't have to come home 'til dawn, if I
don't want to."
THIS, I felt was a hint. I let out a groan. "But I have
two parents who won't be pleased to find their son fucking the
neighborhood-slut in their house, no matter HOW nice a girl she
is otherwise."
For a second, I was aghast at my temerity; calling Betty-Lou
a "slut." I guess, after that story, (not to mention having
screwed me over 6 times in the past two hours) B-L felt I was a
"close-enough-personal-friend" to use terms like that to describe
her, in a friendly fashion. She giggled.
It was like this, the bed in a mess, our clothes all over
the room, smelling like a whorehouse, with both of us covered
with drying sperm and other even more unmentionable liquids and
semi-solids, that My big sister Lonnie found us. She took in the
room with one glance.
"Well, Little Brother," she asked, with a twinkle in her
eyes, "did you have fun?"
From the evidence on the bed, she had to ask?
"No," I said, shocking her. "I didn't." Even Betty-Lou
looked at me with dismay.
I let them both stew for a minute. After all, they had BOTH
caused me a little grief that night. Then I finished the
statement. "WE had fun." I said, firmly.
I got a barrage of richly deserved pillows.
For the next five minutes we fought gloriously, until two of
the pillows burst, and we lay gasping in a tangle of feathers,
sperm, girl-cum, and just plain mess. Talk about fun! It was
WORTH the hour it took to clean up, before our parents got home.
It was after we finished making up the bed together that
Lonnie first noticed the pink cup lying somewhat forlornly in a
puddle on the dresser. She picked it up between two fingers,
with kind of a questioning smirk on her face.
"Oh that," said Betty-Lou; taking it from my big sister and
spreading her legs on the edge of the bed; to re-insert it inside
her vagina. "Mike and I decided to try and see if he was lucky."
I blushed red as a beet; while Lonnie's grin grew even
wider. The thought of Betty-Lou with my sperm still inside her
vagina, working its way up inside her (possibly) fertile young
womb, was almost enough to give me still another hard-on.
Almost. The sexy slut had completely drained me. (And NO, I am
NOT insulting Betty-Lou . . . she knows she's a sexy slut, and
glories in it.)
42
It was only after walking Betty-Lou home, walking hand in
hand together in moonlight, discussing books, dragons and other
such non-important things, then walking home as if in a dream,
that I found out she had walked all the way home in a micro-mini,
with no panties. They were left in sodden glory in the middle of
my bedspread, where either of my parents couldn't have missed
them if they tried, if they had looked in.
I mean, sopping-wet scarlet red panties in a heart-shape in
the middle of a BLUE bedspread?
She'd obviously left them for me, as a present.
You've got to admire a girl like that . . . she's got guts.
Not much sense, but lots of guts . . . walking home in a
mini-skirt, with no panties? If I'd only known! On the other
hand, it seems that she wanted me to find out AFTERWARDS, not
then. It was her own sexy little secret, to get her juices
flowing for when she climbed into bed with her father.
I loved that girl. No, I didn't want to marry her, but I
truly did love her. Still, I guess she has lots of boys who love
her, as she couldn't fit me into her schedule again, until at
least two weeks AFTER mine was clear.
We made a date, at HER house this time, for six weeks later.
I could hardly wait. On the other hand, I still had 4 more
surprises from Lonnie. I knew nothing would top this, though.
Six times in one night? Or was it seven?
"Thanks Sis," I yelled into Lonnie's room, when I got back.
"That's TWO, I owe you."
"Whatever," came the mumble from my big sister's bedroom. I
guess that she had a big night too. I wondered how many times
SHE got fucked? Oh well, none of my business. Lonnie was
obviously sexually satisfied; unlike me, a little over a week
ago.
I fell asleep with Betty-Lou's soggy panties stuck under my
pillow, so her scent would give me sweet dreams. Well, I DID
have dreams that night . . . .
43
Chapter 5
Interlude #2.
The next week was an exercise in frustration. I now had two
girls who would be willing to fuck me, if we could only get
together. Only first, there was school all day long, and Betty-
Lou was busy almost every evening. The one evening she WASN'T
busy, I was.
It wasn't much better with Suzy. We both kept swinging and
missing. On Sunday, we barely got together for a quick peck of a
kiss, and a feel up under her short little dress, before Chrissie
came looking for me, and WE had to go somewhere. Normally, a
trip to the wave-pool would have been quite a treat on a hot
September day, just before Fall set in. Only when you have a
chance to get laid, being teased by a whole set of sexy young
girls in bathing suits was NOT what I needed. To make it worse,
my parents had invited Suzy and her sister to come along, so I
got to watch the girl I was falling in love with flaunt her body
at me in a "look, but don't touch" environment. I was almost
tempted to follow the little girl into the changing/rest-room,
and pull her little one-piece suit off and fuck her right there,
in front of any other girls who happened by. <Sigh.> Almost.
Her little sister wasn't much better. The little kid seemed
to know something about me and her sibling, and the cute little
kid teased me unmercifully. I mean, it was bad enough with Suzy.
At least she had a one-piece swimsuit on and didn't flaunt
herself at me. I guess she was just as frustrated as I was;
seeing me there, knowing she could get laid if only we could be
alone. But Ginny had no problems like that. I think she
deliberately wore a bikini that showed off every square inch of
skin legally allowable; and I swear the little girl followed me
around; plonking herself down next to me where her cute little
bellybutton was almost at eye-level; and deliberately spreading
her legs so that on a couple of occasions I actually got a
glimpse of her bare little cunny through the leg-holes on the
bottom. It isn't FAIR to show a guy heaven, and then deny him
even a touch.
For a minute, in the water, I caught Suzy alone, and managed
to hug her; wrapping my arms around the sexy little girl and
holding her tight in frustrated need. Suzy gave just as good as
she got; and for a moment I almost came in my shorts (OK,
swimsuit) in the water there. We had to pull away though, before
anybody got suspicious. In fact, somebody DID get suspicious; as
I could see Ginny paddling our way the moment we pulled apart.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say your little sister was
making a play for me," I told Suzy.
"Yeah, she DOES seem to be a little jealous, doesn't she,"
acknowledged Suzy. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of
everything," she said.
44
I don't know what Suzy told her little sister; but from then
on, the tone of her teasing changed. No longer did the little
girl seem to be trying to get between me and her big sister, but
on the other hand her blatant display of creamy-smooth skin and
budding body got even worse, if possible. Any time she caught me
looking at her, the little girl would grin and display even more
of her budding young charms, if possible. I couldn't believe
that a 10-year-old could be that sexy. (OK, OK! Ginny was
almost 11.) It was bad enough for me to be turned on by her
older sister. It's a good thing that my swimsuit was wet from
swimming, as otherwise someone might have asked me why I had a
wet-spot in my pants on the way home.
To complete my frustration, somehow I found myself wedged
between BOTH giggling little girls on the way home. Worse than
that, neither one seemed to be the least bit shy in front of the
other. I found myself with one arm wrapped around each girl;
trying to make my surreptitious feels of their smooth skin look
like just friendly touches that I couldn't help, while both Suzy
and Ginny didn't seem to have any such restrictions. Suzy
actually grasped the outline of my swollen prick through my
shorts, when my parents weren't looking; not seeming to be in the
least bit shy about doing it in front of her little sister. The
two girls grinned at each other, then at me. Just when I thought
things couldn't get any worse, Ginny slipped her cool little hand
down INTO my pants, and actually wrapped it around the swollen
member. I almost creamed my shorts. I couldn't believe that the
little girl would do this in the first place, or that her big
sister wouldn't mind her playing with "her" boyfriend, the
second. Far from minding, Suzy just grinned, when her little
sister leaned over and said, "You're right, it IS just as nice as
you said it was." Oh shit!
I think Ginny would probably have jacked me off right there,
in front of her big sister, but my mother picked that moment to
start shifting around so she could look in the back seat. Ginny
barely got her hand out of my pants in time.
"What's that you said?" she asked. I was sweating blood.
"I said Mark's just as nice as Suzy said he was," replied
Ginny; snuggling into my arms. On the other hand, Suzy did the
same thing. Oh God.
Mother just raised an eyebrow and then grinned. I never did
find out what she thought was going on in the back seat; but I
wonder if she knew. If she did, she never said anything. Maybe
my mother was young once, after all.
After that, I barely got a peck of a kiss, and Suzy had to
go home.
I must have jacked-off three times that night, and sad to
say, two of them I spent imagining I was squirting Suzy's little
sister full of my sperm, instead of the older girl.
Monday night, Suzy had practice of some kind after school,
and Tuesday I was trying out for the team. It was Wednesday
before we managed to get together.
45
In return for taking the girls out to the wave-pool, the
Morgans invited us over for a barbecue on Wednesday night. (No,
they didn't feel OBLIGATED to; it was just more fun to have us
over for a party, than to do it alone. Besides, there wouldn't
be too many more days suitable for barbecues before the weather
got cold.)
You might think that having both families together in a big
bunch like that would give us LESS time to be alone, but in fact
it gave us the first chance we had for almost a week. Our
parents were too busy talking and fixing food, and doing all the
other things that parents do at parties, to pay much attention to
what their kids were doing.
Thus I found myself being hauled into Suzy's house with her
little sister in tow. "What's with HER?" I asked Suzy. I mean,
if we were going to "get together" like we wanted to, we surely
didn't want her little sister along!
"We need her," explained Suzy. At my consternation, she
continued, "as a lookout. If our parents come looking for
us . . . ."
She was right. Still, I didn't feel too comfortable about
Ginny even knowing what her big sister and boyfriend were doing.
I never got a chance to object though, because Ginny beat me to
it.
"You OWE me for this, Big Sister," she said; putting
capitals in her statement.
"I've already set you up for next week," Suzy reminded her
little sister, "so don't push things. OK?"
"OK." Ginny subsided for a bit, then added, "But I can only
do so much. If I give a double-rap on the door, then you guys
had better be decent in a hurry, because I can't guarantee I'll
be able to distract anyone coming for very long."
Suzy nodded, as if that was what she expected. "Thanks,
Ginny," she said; and got a nod of her own, in return.
"Thanks, kid," I added, to compliment Suzy.
"Don't thank me yet," said Ginny; looking me up and down as
if I was a slab of meat in the butcher-shop. "You still owe me,
and I'm going to collect. And don't call me 'kid.' I'm a woman
now." Ginny drew herself up, and tried to show off her almost
non-existent bosom. Well, there WERE buds there, but not really
breasts yet. Still, she WAS developing. I didn't have to be
patronizing. Besides, Ginny was a nice kid. (OK, so I was
patronizing in my head . . . so sue me.) "Sorry Ginny," I said,
"I stand corrected. You are NOT a kid, you are developing into a
nice young woman."
"And don't you forget it," said Ginny, before shutting the
door firmly behind us, as she left the two of us alone in the
bedroom she shared with her big sister. Suzy raised an eyebrow
at me, and we both giggled.
46
Two minutes later, we were both too involved to giggle. If
Ginny had rapped with a sledgehammer at the door, I don't think
we could have recovered in time to look "decent", if the little
girl didn't manage to distract any snooping parents. Thankfully,
either Ginny was very good at distracting people (she is) or
nobody thought to check on the three of us for the next 30
minutes. By that time I had drained my wad in Suzy's sexy young
belly twice, while she had gotten off I don't know how many
times, but at least three. GOD it felt good to feel the little
girl's tight little slit squeezing the heck out of my swollen
peter, while I watched it slowly slide up into the squeezing
little hole I had been dreaming about for the last week or two.
The feeling of a tight ring slowly sliding down to the base
of my prick was almost enough to make me cum without even fucking
her properly. Aw, who am I kidding? I barely got two inches
inside Suzy's tight little hole, before I was decorating the
inside of her flat little tummy with rope after thick sticky rope
of pearly white cream. I just slid my spasming prick into the
little girl to the hilt, and lay there and let my seed flow into
the child's womb. God, what a release, after all that waiting.
Thankfully, Suzy seemed to be just as frustrated and eager
as I was; climaxing from the time she felt the first thick squirt
enter her tiny little hole, and not really stopping until we
regretfully had to pull apart when I had finished fucking her for
the second time, and we knew we had to get back to the party.
Yes, I fucked her twice. One quick fuck of, "Slide it in and
squirt," wasn't enough for either of us, after all that time of
doing without.
Again thankfully, it didn't take that long for me to get
hard again. In fact, I never even pulled out; just let the
little girl's tight little cunny milk my aching prick to hardness
inside her, before starting over to do it right the second time.
We were both too horny to even attempt foreplay, and once we had
already fucked, it seemed like redundance, when we could keep on
doing the "real thing" instead. So we did. That doesn't mean we
didn't feel each other up, and hug and cuddle, and make loving
noises while we fucked though. We did all that, and more.
The second time I felt Suzy's tight little ring slide down
my aching prick, it was a LOT easier to keep from "blowing my
cool" inside her. We managed to enjoy being mated (as I said)
for almost half an hour, before the sensations got to be too much
for us, and I felt the (by now familiar) sensations of a pulsing
in my prick that told me I was filling the little girl's tight
little slit with my seed.
Suzy seemed to enjoy fucking me, almost as much as I liked
"sticking it to" her. In fact, she jerked and squeezed my prick
three times while I was slowly sliding in and out. When I asked
her afterwards, if she had gotten off, she replied, "Are you
kidding? You mean you didn't FEEL it?" Well, what could I say?
We were just pulling apart, when Ginny poked her head
through the door. There was absolutely no doubt about what the
two of us were doing either; as my prick was dripping white cum
to match the white froth making a gooey mess of her big sister's
cunny.
47
Ginny didn't seem to find anything wrong with this though.
"You two had better hurry and get cleaned up," was her only
comment, "I don't know how much longer I can cover for you."
"Ooohh!" With a common groan, Suzy and I pulled apart. It
was only when I was washing my hands and prick in the sink, and
the little girl handed me a bag to fill with water, that I
remembered the comment Suzy had made so long before . . . (Could
it REALLY only be just a little over a week ago?) about her
period, and it being OK THEN for me to cum inside her . . . .
Oh shit! I felt like a complete asshole.
Suzy wouldn't let me apologize though. She explained that
she knew HER schedule, and she no more had wanted to stop than I
had. Besides, I didn't have any condoms yet, did I? When I said
no, she explained that neither did she. If she got
pregnant . . . .
Suzy shrugged. She'd just have to see. She NEEDED that
fuck, just as much as I did.
I couldn't believe that the little girl could be so
nonchalant. Well, after all it WAS more her worry than mine.
After all, it was HER body that would have to carry the baby if
she had one; though it would be both of us who would be in
trouble if she did. I couldn't believe it, but I was getting
hard again, at just the thought.
Ginny just smirked, when we finally came out of the
bathroom, combing our hair, and generally trying to make
ourselves look presentable again. "Well?" she asked, "Did you
two manage to 'work things out' OK?"
Suzy threw a sofa-cushion at her little sister; while I
barely managed a fake grin.
Though we'd been gone over an hour, nobody at the "picnic"
seemed to notice we'd been gone . . . except possibly my big
sister, who gave me a funny grin. Whatever . . . Lonnie never
said anything though.
48
Chapter 6
Date #3.
Why was it, that the next day I wasn't surprised to hear my
big sister say that she'd set me up with Ginny for my next date?
Still, I felt I had to raise SOME objection.
"But she's just a kid," I said.
"That's what you said about Suzy," Lonnie reminded me.
"Yeah, but at least SHE is 12," I said, then blushed as I
remembered how that put Suzy past the age of puberty, and into
the "dangerous" age. "Ginny's only 10."
"Almost 11," corrected my big sister. "What's the matter?"
she asked. "Scared you're not going to have a good time?"
Again I blushed. Lonnie hadn't let me down yet. Besides,
there was always her "guarantee". Somehow, I doubted I'd need
it. Still, ten years old? On the other hand, Ginny was a NICE
kid. I knew after the buildup that her big sister and mine must
have given her, that Ginny would be AWFULLY disappointed if I
begged off. Especially, if I said she was, "Too young." After
looking out for me and Suzy the other day, I guess sex wasn't
going to be a problem. That didn't mean I had to screw the kid,
if she wasn't ready. Heck, maybe we could have lots of fun
anyway, with me showing Ginny how to "make out" without actually
having sex.
The more I thought about it, the more like fun it looked, to
"teach" the kid how to have fun without actually getting fucked.
Of course, I didn't figure on Ginny having her own agenda.
Just like the first time, Tammy was waiting to thank me for
taking her little girl out. Only, to top it off, Suzy braced me
in the hall, to tell me the same thing! "Now you take good care
of her; and don't you DARE hurt her," she whispered fiercely to
me, before letting me into the living-room to wait while Ginny
finished getting "spruced up."
I looked disgustedly at my girlfriend. (Yes, I thought of
Suzy as my girlfriend, and it felt pretty funny taking my
girlfriend's little sister out on a date.) "Do you really think
I'd do ANYTHING to hurt your little sister?" I asked.
This time it was Suzy's turn to blush. "You might turn her
down," she said; then REALLY started blushing. "I promised her
you'd give her a good time," she added.
Oh God. Just what HAD Suzy promised her little sister I'd
do? I never got to find out, as Ginny picked that moment to make
her entrance.
Wow! I didn't know little girls COULD look that good.
Obviously Tammy had been helping her daughter, as I just don't
believe a 10-year-old could come up with an outfit like that.
Not to mention the makeup that was so skillfully applied, that it
almost didn't look like it was there.
Most little girls, if they were trying to look sexy, would
put on high-heels, silk stockings, and a vee-necked dress slit
down almost to the navel. The would also probably pad their bra
to look like a woman about to have twins. Ginny looked nothing
like that.
49
Starting at the bottom, Ginny was dressed in flat, oxford-
style shoes, with bobby-sox, not nylons. No hint of stocking or
other cloth marred the smooth flesh between her ankles, and the
hem of the one-piece dress that fell halfway between her knees
and the little mound that occasionally showed that there was a
woman underneath that dress. The dress itself was a soft beige
cotton material that flowed smoothly from her shoulders to the
hem, in what almost looked like a seamless fit. It wasn't. To
fit that closely to the little girl's body, it must have been cut
to fit. Ginny's breasts made soft mounds in the front, not
overblown bazzooms, like a full-grown woman would have. There
MIGHT have been a little padding under the cups, but if so, it
was demure.
No makeup was visible on the little girl's face; but I knew
that was an illusion too. NOBODY, not even little girls, looks
THAT good, without professional help. A gold band was around her
neck; and a soft cotton band matching the dress held her hair in
place. No earrings. Except for the sexiness of the dress, Ginny
looked the picture of innocence. In fact, that's what made her
look so incredibly sexy. Her wearing a sexy outfit like that,
while still having an air of innocence as if she didn't even know
what sex was. (But I knew different, from what she had seen me
and her big sister do the day before.) Even under the dress, (I
learned later) she was only wearing soft cotton panties that were
probably sexier on a little girl like her, than most women's silk
underwear.
Did you ever get the feeling you were being set-up?
Ginny walked right up to me, while I was taking in her
attire, and gave me a kiss like I didn't give her big sister
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