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Subject: REPOST: GARANTEE.TXT 250K"The Guarantee" (Mf, cons, incest, teen/pedo, preg, novel)
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until we got home that first night. "Let's go," she whispered in
my ear. "I can't WAIT to get started."
Well, that was the whole idea; to go out on a date. So,
just like with her big sister, two minutes later Ginny and I
found ourselves alone on the front porch; while the door shut
with a <click> behind us.
With a girl as young as Ginny, I hadn't been too sure what
she would want. So, I had just brought along most of the money I
had made mowing lawns and added it to my allowance, in hopes that
we could find someplace that we both enjoyed, to have fun.
Though my parents were out for the night themselves, I sure
didn't plan on taking Ginny over to our place, and just watching
television. I wanted HER to enjoy this too. Lonnie had already
guaranteed that I would have a good time. It was up to me to see
to it that my dates did. Still, I wasn't sure WHAT Ginny liked.
We could go to a movie, we could go to a fancy restaurant,
or to the park, or even to the library, if she liked books like
Betty-Lou and I had done. If I had felt funny going out with
Suzy, I felt like a child-raping pedophile with her 10-year-old
little sister. When we got out the door, I asked Ginny what she
wanted to do. Go and eat dinner . . . go to a movie, like her
big sister had . . . go skating . . . or what?
"I want to go over to your house and fuck," she said, "just
like my big sister does." I almost had a heart-attack.
50
When she saw my reaction, Ginny changed her tactics a
little; from all-out brazen, to pleading little girl that MUCH
better suited the "kinderslut" outfit she was wearing.
"Please," she pleaded, "I've been wanting to try it ever
since I first saw you and Suzy two weeks ago. She liked it SO
much, and you were SO nice to her, and I didn't dare even stand
there and watch; though I wanted to so bad."
Oh shit. Ginny HAD gotten up to go to the toilet that
night, and had seen the two of us going at it like rabbits. Only
instead of being disgusted or frightened at seeing her sister and
the boy next door fucking in the living-room, Ginny had just
envied her big sister, and then bugged Suzy until she got the
older girl to convince MY big sister to let her be "next" on the
list. I wonder who Lonnie had originally planned for that night?
"Uh . . . are you sure?" I asked. I really HAD wanted to
get laid that night, but I hadn't really expected to get in the
pants of Suzy's little sister! I mean . . . 10 years old?
Still, if Ginny really WANTED it . . . she did.
It seems that Ginny KNEW my parents were going to be out;
almost as if she had arranged it. She wanted to go right on over
to my room, and "Fuck our brains out." In fact, she used those
very words. What could I say? Nothing . . . so I did it.
Yes, I fucked my girlfriend's 10 year old little sister.
And surprisingly, I don't feel the least bit guilty about it.
Ginny wanted it. Her big sister knew about it, and didn't seem
to mind. (Mind? Hell, Suzy set me up!) Her parents, if they
didn't mind, sure were being awfully ambiguous about it if they
did. Even my parents seemed to be somewhat cooperative, leaving
the house to me and Ginny. (Well, maybe they didn't know what
Ginny had planned, but if they were worried about me boffing one
of the neighbor girls, they would almost certainly have NOT left
the house vacant for the two of us to use.)
Somehow it ended up almost a race to my house, to see who
got there first, and who got undressed first. Only I stopped
Ginny. "Do you mind?" I asked, as I stopped her from pulling the
short little dress off.
"Huh?" she asked.
"I always wanted to 'peel a tomato.'" I explained with a
giggle. (My parents once brought home the movie "The Sterile
Cuckoo". That line is the only thing about the movie I
remember.) Ginny giggled, when I explained, but consented, "Only
if I get to peel the potato," she snickered.
We were both in such a giddy mood of giggling, that I found
it hard to undress her. Damn, what a sexy outfit! Not to
mention, what a sexy little girl inside it. I unzipped Ginny's
dress in the back, and then peeled it down over her shoulders and
arms. It kind of WAS like "peeling a tomato."
I couldn't resist kissing the little girl on the navel, once
I got the dress off. She looked SO sexy there, in bra, panties,
and shoes. The feel of her bare skin against my fingers was
almost shocking, each time I touched her, or reached to take off
another article of clothing. Such a perfect little-girl body.
51
For those of you who've never undressed a girl before, it's
fun. Awkward, but fun. My touch kept bringing unexpected
giggles from Ginny; making me fumble with things just when I
thought I had them figured out. It seems so easy, doesn't it?
Just unzip the dress, and let it fall off. Then unsnap the
girl's bra, and slip it over her shoulders. That will leave you
with her panties and shoes. No big deal, huh? Oh yeah?
In the first place, most people aren't used to being
touched. Especially in unexpected places, by a person of the
opposite sex. This caused Ginny to giggle and flinch each time I
figured I had a "handle" on things. Like when I reached for her
zipper, Ginny almost yanked it out of my hand, when she first
felt my touch on the back of her neck. Then sliding the tight
little dress off her body was harder than expected, as it was cut
so close to her body size and shape that it was a struggle to get
it over her hips. (Up to now, I hadn't thought the little girl
HAD any hips to speak of. Ginny, it turned out, was more woman
in many ways than I expected.)
The feel of smooth little-girl skin against my hand almost
made ME jump; it was so sexy. After helping her step out of the
dress, I tried her bra next.
I think the designers of women's brassieres must all be
frustrated old women who hate men. It's almost as if they are
DESIGNED to be hard for a man to remove. There's these funny
little wire hooks, that are so tight you have to push them off
backwards. And they don't want to go. (Of course, If I was a
brassiere on a pretty girl, I wouldn't want to go either.) It
took me almost two minutes of fussing to get that stupid thing
unhooked. All the time Ginny was giggling, and then each time I
thought I had it, she would jerk at my touch in some unexpected
spot, and I would lose the damned thing again.
Finally, I got all three hooks undone, and slipped it off.
There WAS a little padding in the cups, but not all the stuff
filling the bra was padding. Some of it was real live girl. In
spite of being only 10, (well OK, almost 11) Ginny was starting
to fill out in the most delightful places. Even Suzy didn't have
that much on her little sister.
If I had had any sense, I would have left the little girl's
panties for last. But who said I had any sense? I mean, taking
out a 10 year old kid, and then going right next door and getting
her undressed to fuck her? That's being smart? Oh well.
As it was, Ginny ended up standing in front of me, naked
except for panties and shoes, while I had my face almost in her
bellybutton; trying to remove those same panties. The smell
almost knocked me down.
NO! I don't mean that, idiot! Ginny did NOT stink. Far
from it, in fact. Ginny smelled like nice clean little girl,
fresh from the shower. (I guess she was; having just finished
bathing before we left.) There was only the faintest hint of
sexy smell coming from her already lubricating young cunny. It's
just that the mere smell of pretty little girl right in my nose
was so exciting I almost came in my shorts, without even taking
them off.
52
I couldn't resist . . . I put my face close to Ginny, and
licked her bellybutton. Of course it was a mistake. Ginny
jerked away at the tickling sensation; I grabbed at her, and we
both ended up in a giggling heap on the floor. This time I did
it right, and KISSED her soundly on the navel, before we got back
up so that I could do what I had started to do: Remove her
panties.
Golly what a sexy sight. Not one trace of hair from her
cute little navel down to the puffy dent that showed where her
sex was. The dent was so big that somehow I didn't doubt that
Ginny could take my prick up inside her, in spite of her tender
age. I hurriedly removed the panties, before the aroma of sexy
little girl in my nose made me lose control. Then, Ginny sat on
the bed, while I removed her shoes and socks.
Beautiful feet. I had never been particularly turned on by
feet before, but ones like Ginny's almost made a foot-fetish man
out of me. Perfect little feet, with perfect little toes.
Slender ankles led up to slightly swelling thighs, which led
to . . . OOOoooh! "Down boy!" I chided myself.
It wasn't until Ginny reached for me when I was finished,
that I remembered her part of the deal. I was to be undressed by
Ginny, just like I had undressed her. I hoped I could manage to
let her, without embarrassing myself.
Well, I did, but just barely. It was only the unexpected
shocks and giggles that kept me from squirting thick white greasy
gobs of cum all over the little girl's face or hands, when she
removed MY undershorts. The rest of it I managed by just
gritting my teeth and shivering at each sensual touch.
There was a slight pause, when Ginny tried to remove my
pants without pulling my shoes off first, but that was only fair
after the contretemp I had when trying to remove her bra. I
guess she wasn't any more experienced at undressing the opposite
sex than I was. (Surprise, surprise.)
When Ginny finished, we stood there for a moment just
looking at each other, until I realize that Ginny was waiting for
me to start something. After all, I was the "expert" here.
(Yeah . . . Sex eight times, with two different girls, and that
makes me an expert, huh? Well, compared to Ginny, I guess I
was.)
Thank goodness ONE of us had some experience before. I
think there should be some law, that all virgins should be
initiated by someone who knows what they are doing. Can you
imagine a boy and a girl trying to get things right for the first
time, with neither one knowing what they were doing? God, what a
disaster.
I have since read of just such things happening. In fact,
in an article about some honeymoon-resorts in the Poconos, I read
where some couples actually get married and are in their 20's,
for Christ's sake, and both of them are virgins. Can you imagine
how tough a girl's virginity gets, if she hangs onto it for 20
years? Well, with Ginny and me, it wasn't QUITE "the blind
leading the blind" but it was close enough to be awkward.
53
With Suzy and I, things had just seemed natural; flowing
from seduction, to foreplay, to intercourse, in an almost
seamless manner. Even when we fucked, it was just one little
step further along.
With Ginny, it was like I was raping some virgin-sacrifice
on an alter. Never mind that Ginny wanted this almost as much as
I did. Seeing the little girl lying there naked on the bed,
waiting to be fucked, was more a turn-off at wondering what to
do, than turn-on at knowing she wanted me inside her just as much
as I did. Luckily I retained a little sense, and didn't just
climb on top of her and fuck, like Ginny seemed to want.
Figuring that what was good for her big sister would be good
for her too; I bent over and started "feeling her up." Uhuh. I
ran my hands up and down her body, then started kissing her all
over, as I tried to duplicate the erotic time Suzy and I had in
the car two weeks before.
I must have done something right, because Ginny started
moaning and squirming and best of all, kissing me back. Shortly
we were two squirming bodies on the bed; as we both did our best
to make the other feel good.
I don't remember all the things we did, but it must have
been at least 10 minutes later, while I was gently massaging
Ginny's face, as we stopped occasionally to give each other pecks
on the lips, and I was trying to memorize every line of the
little girl's face, that I first felt my prick slip between
Ginny's legs. I had almost forgotten about having sex. Making
love like this was almost as much fun. Still, the feel of my
prick rubbing against the furrow of the little girl's sex was
hard to ignore. Ginny had noticed it too, and looked down
between our bodies.
"Are you sure?" I asked; the first word either of us had
said in over ten minutes.
Ginny didn't ask what I was talking about. She just spread
her legs enough to give me better access. The next thing I knew,
the head of my prick was pushing into the tight little hole
between the 10-year-old's legs.
Sounds sexy, doesn't it? Well, it was, and it wasn't. It
was sexy to feel the child's tight little hole surround the tip
of my prick. In fact, I almost squirted her full of sperm,
without ever getting inside her. What was NOT sexy, was the fact
that I couldn't get it in! We were both too dry.
Now you may not believe this; thinking that by this time
Ginny must have been as aroused as she was going to get, and my
prick should have been leaking pre-cum for the previous half-
hour. Well, you'd be right, and you'd be wrong. Both of us WERE
highly aroused, and HAD been lubricating. Only it wasn't
lubrication where we needed it.
There was an, "Ow!" from Ginny, before I managed to wipe the
head of my prick around her drooling snatch; lubricating both of
us enough that the head of my prick popped into her tight little
hole.
54
After that, the shaft of my prick was STILL dry, so it took
a couple of in-and-out shoves, before I managed to get two inches
of solid prick inside her, evoking yet another, "Ow," from Ginny.
THIS time, the barrier was inside her. With Suzy, we had been so
worked-up and involved, that she had hardly noticed the loss of
her virginity to my finger. With Ginny, there was no way she was
going to miss it.
"Are you sure?" I asked again.
"Please," whimpered Ginny. I knew she did NOT mean, "Please
pull out." So I did it.
I worked my prick in and out a couple of times to get more
of our juices spread around, then on the third time in, I just
kept going. A tight ring surrounded the tip of my penis, and
then spread around it; then spread some more, until suddenly I
had four inches of solid prick inside the little girl and the
unlubricated part kept me from going in any farther. It was too
much.
With only 4 inches of my prick buried in her tight little
snatch, I suddenly began squirting thick sticky gobs of sperm all
over the inside of the little girl's vagina. I couldn't help it.
Ginny just lay there and groaned. I guess that once the
initial pain was over, she didn't mind it so much, but she didn't
really enjoy it either. Damn. Still, Ginny didn't ask me to
pull off either. In fact, once she got used to feeling me inside
her, she pulled back about an inch, and then pushed forward.
Twice she did this, until my prick was all the way up inside her,
and the last of my potent sperm was dribbling against her
immature cervix.
"There," said Ginny; suppressing a sniffle. "At least Suzy
can't say I didn't fuck you properly. Now you just fuck me, and
cum in me all you want to . . . OK?"
I almost snickered. Luckily, I have more control than that.
Ginny sounded SO proud that she had managed to fuck her big
sister's boyfriend. "Thanks Ginny," I said, "but I already did."
"Huh?" said Ginny.
"I already came," I amplified.
"But I didn't FEEL anything," she complained.
It was only when I pulled out, and showed the little girl
the white goo dripping from my prick and her newly deflowered
snatch, that she believed me.
"Let's do it again," she said. "I want to feel the good
parts, where you cum in me while we're both liking it, like Suzy
does. I know it's got to feel better than doing it myself; from
watching the way you two like it."
Oh shit. I wouldn't be ready to go again, for at least
another half hour, and maybe even longer. I pointed this out to
Ginny.
"Well, what do we do NOW?" she asked.
"Well," I replied, "we ARE on a 'date.' Why don't we go get
something to eat, or go to a show or something. Then when we get
back, maybe you'll be feeling better, and I won't be so horny I
blow it from overexcitement. What do you say?"
55
It took us only 10 minutes to get washed up, and dressed.
It's amazing how much faster it goes when you do things yourself.
Twenty minutes later, we were in a truck-stop ordering
dinner. Ginny did NOT want to wait for reservations at a fancy
place, and I didn't want to take her to the same place I had
taken her big sister. Comments from earlier about "robbing the
cradle" came to mind. If Carol ever figured out that I was
fucking not only Suzy, but her little sister as well . . .
<Shudder.>
All during the meal, Ginny and I "played footsie" under the
table. It was only the knowing smirk on the waitress's lips,
that made us stop. All I needed, was to be arrested for
"molesting" a little girl. Damn, it sure didn't FEEL like I was
molesting her.
When we left the diner, I tried to convince Ginny that maybe
we should still go to a movie or something, but she wouldn't have
it.
"Let's go back to your place," she said. "This time it'll
work out better, I'm sure."
What could I say? So, we ended back up in my room, with
half the night still left.
This time, we undressed ourselves. You know what? It's
almost as sexy watching a little girl get undressed for YOU, as
it is to undress her. Just knowing she is taking her clothes off
so she can cuddle up naked with you is almost as exciting as
taking her clothes off yourself.
The second time, there was no fooling around or fumbling.
After cuddling together and smooching for a bare-minimum time
necessary to get my hard-on back up to snuff, I wet it with my
saliva, and slid home inside the little girl with a rush.
This time, Ginny only let out a slight, "Ouch," as My prick
bottomed out in her. Also this time, I didn't cum inside her
immediately on feeling the child's tight little hole surrounding
my prick in a warm, wet, wonderful embrace.
For ten wonderful minutes we lay there, while I slowly slid
my engorged prick in and out, before I finally lost control and
sent my seed spurting high into the little girl's welcoming young
womb. Ginny still didn't get off, but for the last six of the
ten minutes, I knew she was starting to enjoy feeling me sliding
in and out, almost as much as I liked feeling her tight little
cunny squeezing and milking on my horny cock.
This time, while Ginny still didn't feel me squirting inside
her, (I don't think a woman can.) she DID know I was getting off,
and held me close while I spurted and jerked inside her.
Afterwards, we just lay there together, with my wilting
prick held inside her tight little hole, while we cuddled and
stroked each other. It was with some surprise, (to me, anyway)
that about a half-hour later, my prick started to swell again,
without ever pulling out.
"Ooohh, I feel that," said Ginny, with a grin. She started
working against me; working life back into my prick with her
tight little hole. I hadn't even known you COULD fuck a second
time without pulling out. That didn't stop me from doing it
though.
56
This time, it seemed like my prick would NEVER fire. In and
out; in and out. On and on I fucked, until my prick was almost
getting sore. I was about to give up and pull out, when I
noticed Ginny's eyes getting wide, and her movements suddenly got
frantic. Well, if she wanted to get me off one more time, I
decided to try. Only Ginny wasn't concerned about me.
With a screech that I was worried would be heard by her
parents next door, Ginny suddenly grabbed me in a bear-hug and
started bucking wildly and uncontrollably underneath me. Once my
prick came out for a second, in her wild gyrations, but she got
it in after an, "Ow!" from both of us when she missed the first
time. Such a commotion and milking and squeezing on my prick I
had never felt. Ginny was already tighter than either her big
sister or Betty-Lou, but this was unbelievable. It almost felt
like she was going to cut the damned thing off. Finally, Ginny's
wild commotion came to an end. I don't know if I came in her
during that wild ride or not. In any case, my prick was wilting,
and I felt comfortably sated with sex . . . .
Seven hours later, Lonnie was poking me in the ribs. Ginny
and I had fallen asleep, still sexually joined, after that last
great fuck where she got her rocks off, for the first time, with
a man inside her tight little snatch.
Lonnie just grinned at the sight of her little brother
pulling his limp wet prick out of the little girl next door.
"You'd better be getting back," she commented. "It's after 5:00
in the morning. Besides, Mom and Dad will be coming home pretty
soon, and I'm not too sure what they'd say about finding you two
like this."
Holy shit, Batman! Such a mad scramble to get dressed and
out, you never did see! Ginny told me I didn't have to get
dressed; it wasn't all THAT far to her house, that she couldn't
make it next door, without me. I didn't buy it.
I had taken Ginny out on a date, and I would see her home
properly . . . .
Even if it WAS too late, I could face the music like she
would. I ran Tammy's instructions through my head . . . no,
(Thank Goodness.) she HADN'T insisted that I bring Ginny home
early, like she had when I took out Suzy. Maybe it was an
oversight, and maybe she just expected me to know that the rules
that applied to her older sister applied to the younger girl too.
Whatever. At least I hadn't broken any specific rules. Next
time, I would set an alarm clock before having sex. I hadn't
known that having sex would put you to sleep like that
afterwards.
Ginny just carried her shoes, and I didn't bother to put on
mine, "to save time." We both ran barefoot through the dew-
covered grass back to her place, and then stood shyly looking at
one another.
"Well, uh, thanks," she said; drawing circles on the porch
with her wet toe. "I had a great time."
"So did I," I said . . . the understatement of the year.
57
Ginny held out her cheek to me for a chaste peck, but I
would have nothing of it. I turned her head around with my
finger, and then kissed her properly on the mouth. For a moment,
Ginny just pecked with her lips, then suddenly we were in a wild
embrace kissing hungrily as we stroked each other.
I guess Ginny had known what she was doing; only offering me
her cheek. It was all we could do to break apart, and not end up
on the porch rutting like two dogs in heat, in front of the
neighbors and everybody.
Somehow, shuddering, we pulled apart.
"We've GOT to do this again sometime," I said.
"Uhuh," replied Ginny, "we do." This time, when she just
pecked me on the cheek, I merely accepted it. There was a
<click> from the door, and Ginny was gone.
It was awful lonely going back to my house.
It was also cutting things a bit fine. I had barely gotten
back home, and was looking across the yard when a light went out
in the Morgans' house; leaving it black. Not five seconds later,
a white streak of light became visible as a car turned the corner
down the street, and then came closer to pull into the driveway
next door. Tammy was home.
I was still sweating THIS narrow escape, while settling back
to sleep in my bed, when the noise of the front door opening
announced my parents' return. Talk about narrow escapes!
58
Chapter 7
Interlude #3.
Lonnie never did say anything more about my sleeping in like
that, but the next day she DID tease me in front of our parents,
by saying, "Well, I know YOU had a good time last night;"
simultaneously reminding me of how she had caught the two of us,
and of her "guarantee" at the same time.
"That's THREE I owe you," I replied.
"I know," Said Lonnie and giggled.
Mom and Dad didn't say anything. I guess they were used to
their children playing funny games. Besides, they had their own
cryptic messages that they passed back and forth over OUR heads.
It was only when I got back to my room after breakfast, that
I found Ginny's panties in a soggy lump in the middle of the bed.
Talk about obvious! I mean, white panties in the middle of a
dark blue bedspread? If Mom or Dad had seen, there would have
been no doubt in their minds what their son had been doing the
night before, with the little girl next door. Ginny must have
deliberately left them for me as a souvenir. I folded them up,
and added them to my growing collection. I had never intended to
start a collection of girls' panties, but it seemed that the
girls wanted me to. Now I had one from each girl I had ever
fucked. I didn't dare leave them all soggy with sweat. They
would have gotten mildewed. So, I had to get up in the middle of
the night and wash them by hand, when nobody was awake. It was a
shame washing out the sexy smells, but better than losing them to
mildew. Thankfully all three pairs dried fairly rapidly on my
chair, so I was able to hide them in the morning.
Saturday was too busy to do anything with anybody. I had
three lawns to cut, to help me earn back some of the money I had
been spending on dates. I had just gotten back from the last
one, all smelly and dusty, when Mom told me a girl had called.
It had been Betty-Lou, and she had waited as long as she could,
but finally had gone out with someone else. She had been TRYING
to get ahold of me all day long, it seems. Damn!
Then, that night, my father dropped the bombshell. "I hear
you've been fucking the little girl next door," he said at dinner
time. I almost choked to death on a potato. "Your mother and I
figured that it was probably way too late to stop you," he
continued, "as you'd just find some way to sneak around and do it
anyway, if we tried." My father looked at me sternly. "Now I
want you BOTH to know, that we are NOT happy about this," he
said, "but we also appreciate just how horny kids your ages get.
I know I wouldn't have been able to pass up a cute little 'piece'
like Suzy myself, if I'd had a chance at your age. So, we
decided we're NOT going to try to stop you; just as long as
you're careful," he concluded. I was almost angry that my father
would even THINK I would hurt the little girl I loved so much,
until I realized he meant we should be careful nobody else found
out I was playing around with her. Some people get all uptight,
when a 12-year-old (well . . . OK, almost 13) is found to be
having sex with someone older. And what about a 10-going-on-11
year old girl?
59
The worst part of the whole deal, was that Dad didn't
mention which girl he knew I had been screwing! And I didn't
dare ask him, as that would tell him I had been fucking both of
them Oh shit. I wondered if he knew, but again didn't dare ask.
The next day, Suzy asked me if she could stay overnight.
Talk about being in a quandary! Especially, after my father's
remarks. I wanted to spend the night with the little girl so bad
I could taste it; yet if Father got mad at me . . . .
On the other hand, he hadn't said I HAD to stop screwing the
little girl.
I thought it over a little bit; still not knowing what to
do; then I grabbed Suzy and we both went down and told my big
sister what she wanted. Lonnie listened for a while; then
grinned and told me she would take care of everything. Suzy went
home, and I sat in my room; waiting and jittering. Either that
night was going to be the best night ever, or the worst. If, (as
I feared) my parents got mad at me for even suggesting such a
thing, then it would be hell. On the other hand, if I hadn't
mistaken what my father had implied, having a little girl spend
the whole night with me, while my parents not only knew I was
fucking the kid, but were LETTING me do it; if not exactly with
their approval, then at least with their permission . . . wow!
About an hour later, Mother poked her head into my room.
"Your father says it's OK," she said; bringing a sigh of relief
from me. "Only we both want you to know that if you hurt EITHER
of those two little girls, or even make one of them jealous by
trying to be the 'super-stud' and taking on both of them like
this, we'll have your ears . . . understand?"
"Uh, yes," I said; but I didn't really. BOTH of them? Did
my mother mean to imply . . . ?
Once again, my big sister had "set me up".
I couldn't believe it. Somehow Lonnie had changed Suzy's
request to spend the night with me, into getting me to have BOTH
of the little girls next door sleep with me while Chrissie was
spending the night with one of HER friends (only NOT male). Not
only that, but it seemed that the little girls' parents not only
knew they would be spending the night at our house, but that they
would be spending it with ME, naked, and in the same bed
together, instead of spending it with my sisters, like most
normal visits had been previously. If you thought I was nervous
before; then I was almost a quivering wreck by suppertime.
I hadn't even thought about just how we were going to
arrange things, so it was somewhat of a shock when I found both
Ginny and her big sister sitting at the dinner table, just the
way they usually would, if they had been coming over to visit my
sister, or as they had when they were even younger, and either
Lonnie or I had been "babysitting" them.
Just like those earlier times, we sat and joked about
school; we talked about movies; and yes, the girls talked about
boys . . . or at least ONE boy anyway, me. My ears were burning,
when Ginny and Suzy started talking to Lonnie about, "You should
hear the way he grunts, when he's close." right in font of my
parents, yet! Oh shit! I felt my face get so red, I thought it
was going to burn up.
60
Finally, the three girls either got tired of teasing me; or
maybe they decided to take pity on me. Whatever. In either
case, after dinner, instead of finding myself cuddled up to two
sexy little girls, I found myself alone in the living-room
watching TV, while all three girls gathered in Lonnie's bedroom,
and chatted together as if I wasn't there!
I was just getting settled into a good grump; watching a
show that I didn't like, but too pissed-off to change the
channel, when I felt a body plump itself down on the couch next
to me, and Ginny snuggled up next to me, like she was coming back
from being away, rather than just arriving.
At first, I was inclined to reject her, but my good sense
and good humor decided otherwise. Good thing too. I reached out
and pulled Ginny closer. Somehow, when my arm went around her, I
ended up with my hand up underneath her short little blouse;
cupping a firm little tittie. Ooh, did that feel good. Ginny
just snuggled closer.
Damn, it's nice to watch TV with a cute, sexy little girl
snuggled up next to you; one who doesn't mind your advances.
Ginny just snuggled closer each time my roving hand slid
someplace that normally a boy shouldn't feel a little girl; like
up under her bra, or down in her sexy little panties; feeling her
firm young butt. I was barely aware of what was going on TV, or
the fact that Ginny's hands were roaming over my body and
underneath MY shirt, almost as freely as my hands were roaming
over her.
"My turn," said a sexy female voice, as Lonnie moved in to
take the little girl's place. Ginny didn't object at being
preempted by my big sister; just giving me a loving kiss on the
lips, before heading back to join HER big sister, while Lonnie
took over. I was almost in shock. Somehow I was NOT surprised
to find Ginny trading off with her big sister . . . but with MY
sister too? Oh shit.
Lonnie didn't really give me much chance to think about it;
snuggling up just as close to me as the little girl next door
had. For a moment I was really worried. It was bad enough that
I was "making out" with the two underaged little girls next door.
If my parents found out I was fooling around with my own big
sister too . . . I shuddered. Only for nothing. Except for a
faint chatter coming from Lonnie's bedroom, and the rattle of the
TV, the house was quiet. Mother and Father had retired to their
bedroom; leaving the house to us kids. I guess they knew what
was going to happen between me and the little girls next door,
and didn't want to interfere. (Actually, I learned later that
they were so turned-on by the idea of their own son actually
having TWO little girls to fuck, that they needed some privacy of
their own, while they fucked their brains out; imagining the orgy
going on in my bedroom . . . only it wasn't an orgy.)
For about half an hour, I made out with my big sister.
After her sexy implications of how she would keep her promise if
I "didn't have a good time" on Friday nights, I had been having
quite a few daydreams about finding out just how good Lonnie
really was to have as a date herself. Quite good, in fact.
61
Lonnie was a MUCH better kisser than either of the two
little girls next door . . . almost as good as Betty-Lou, in
fact. And she was DEFINITELY sexier. Her boobs were more
developed, and she had a wriggle that almost made me cum, without
even having my prick touched. Her ass was rounded in a way that
promised heaven to whoever managed to trap this gorgeous creature
into having his babies. (Damn! A boy just isn't SUPPOSED to
think of his own sister this way!)
I was rescued by Suzy, before I got carried away and pulled
down my own big sister's panties and fucked her right there in
the living-room, where our parents might have walked through at
any moment. Somehow I knew that Lonnie wasn't in any better
shape than I was at resisting the temptation to fuck her own
sibling.
Luckily we were interrupted by Suzy wanting "her turn". Or
WAS it luck? Perhaps not. Later I figured that Lonnie just
wanted to "try me out" but wasn't ready to fuck her own brother
yet; so she had Ginny and Suzy help her, without leaving me
hanging when she did so.
"It's MY turn," said Suzy. "After all, he's MY boyfriend."
I wondered at this, but didn't deny it. After all, it was the
truth. It was fun dating other girls like Betty-Lou and even her
little sister Ginny, but Suzy was definitely the one who suited
me best; for all her being so much younger than me. Actually, I
found I LIKED the idea of Suzy claiming me as her boyfriend.
Maybe Mother was right; and I was missing a bet. For sure, how
many OTHER girls were as easygoing as her, when it came to her
boyfriend playing around with other girls? (Like her little
sister, and my BIG sister . . . not to mention Betty-Lou and the
others.)
Suzy showed me I was wrong about her kissing. She had
improved so much in the last week, she was practically as good as
my big sister was, and I knew that with a little more practice,
she would be even better. What more could a horny boy ask?
Well, I suppose, for some real sex, of course. But that was
"cumming". <Giggle.>
After about another 20 or 30 minutes, my sister returned
with Ginny in tow, and announced, "I don't know about YOU three,
but I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late." With that, she
headed back to her own bedroom, and very pointedly shut the door.
Damn. I had almost hoped my big sister was going to join us in
my bedroom. (Years later, Lonnie told me it took every ounce of
willpower she had to keep from making it a "menage-a-quatro" with
the three of us. If I only had the brilliance to ASK her to
stay, then she would have. <Sigh.> Oh, for lost chances.)
In the meantime, Ginny snuggled in on the other side of me
from her big sister, and soon all thoughts of my big sister were
driven out of my mind by two pairs of sexy hands roaming over my
body, while two delectably female bodies were freely available to
MY roaming hands. It's a wonder I didn't waste my sperm all over
the couch, instead of up inside the bellies of the two little
girls who didn't seem to mind the idea of me squirting either or
both of their tight little slits full of baby-making cum.
62
"We'd better get this 'thing' into the bedroom, before he
wastes it all over the carpet," giggled Suzy; putting my thoughts
into words.
We were about to leave a trail of discarded clothing, on the
way to my bedroom, but at least Ginny had a lick of sense:
Telling us to pick the stuff up, and put it in the laundry-
hamper, or everyone would know what we were doing, and where.
(As if either my parents or hers didn't know exactly what their
kids were doing together that night.) Five minutes later I found
myself in bed with two very sexy, very horny, and VERY naked
little girls. I blew my cum all over Ginny's sexy little leg.
SHIT! I had WANTED to blow it up inside at least ONE of the
two little girls' tight little slits. Now I had really "blown
it." I would probably never have a chance like this again. Both
girls giggled; embarrassing me still further.
"It's OK," said Suzy; snuggling her sexy little naked body
up to me, so my cum dribbling prick was nestled into the crease
that led to her sex. "We can wait. I'm sure there's plenty more
where that came from."
She was right. It took over half an hour, but having two
sexy naked little girls snuggled up spoon-fashion on either side
of me finally got my prick erect enough that Ginny was able to
reach between my legs, and stick it up inside her big sister,
without any one of the three of us having to move more than an
inch or so in any direction. Oh GOD, did that feel good! The
tight squeeze of Suzy's little slit milking on my prick was
almost enough to make me come again, before I had hardly even
started fucking her. What a DUMB way to "show off" for the two
little girls I was starting to love almost more than life itself.
Especially, when Ginny was watching me so closely, to see that I
did a "good job" on her big sister, before filling HER womb with
my sticky sperm.
By gritting my teeth, I DID manage to hold on until Suzy's
tight little hole started clamping and squeezing on my prick, but
not a second longer. Feeling the little girl lying beside me,
while her tight little cunny rippled up and down my swollen
prick, and her little sister watched me breeding her, was too
much. Wave after wave of hot greasy sperm rippled through my
prick, before being spat into the welcoming belly of the
12-year-old. God that felt so good to let that rusty load of
pregnancy-juice go . . . right where it belonged too; into the
welcoming young belly of a little girl who seemed to be as happy
about feeling me ejaculate my seed inside her, as I was to feel
it going.
The only one who was disappointed was Ginny. Watching me
breeding her big sister had gotten the little girl all "hot and
bothered"; and she was expecting to get her turn. Only I
couldn't. After wasting one big load all over her sexy little
leg, then spewing what seemed like a gallon of sperm in her big
sister's tight little slit, I was done for the night. I did my
best though; feeling her up, then licking her cute little twat
until she got at least a little relief. Towards the end, Suzy
came over and helped me by sucking on her little sister's
titties, while I reamed out her sucking little snatch with my
tongue. It wasn't much; but it was something.
63
Afterwards, we all collapsed in exhaustion; snuggling up to
sleep together in my bed. THAT was probably the most erotic
thing of all, that happened that night. Only my poor prick had
given out on me. Too much sensual overload, from having THREE
girls tease me all night, then getting my rocks off twice, in
less than half an hour.
Several years later, Suzy's mother pulled out an old record
at one of her parties and played it; now that she wasn't worried
about "corrupting" one of her little girls. Some gal named
"Rusty Warren" told all kinds of dirty jokes on it . . . .
The one I remember most, was where one guy had two girls
with him. She told the crowd that it, "Costs you twice as much,
and you're lucky to have half the fun." That's the way it was
here. I had more sex, the times I had either girl alone, than
when both of them together spent the night with me.
Not that I was disappointed; far from it. It's SO sexy,
erotic, and downright FRIENDLY to go to bed with two little girls
who aren't jealous of each other; being willing to "share" you
with the other as much as needed. I wanted to spend the rest of
my life like that.
Towards morning, I woke up with a piss-hard, and when I came
back to bed, both little girls worked me up until I could fuck
Ginny properly. A half hour after that, I managed to fuck her
big sister again. Then, I collapsed in exhaustion; and slept for
another two hours. This was the first time I really managed to
notice the differences between fucking the two girls.
Suzy was wet, loving, and soft and slippery; enjoying a nice
leisurely screw, until the slow stimulation got to much, and I
squirted her warm friendly hole full of thick white baby-juice.
Ginny, on the other hand, was tight, energetic, and nasty;
mouthing obscene comments in my ear, while she milked my swollen
prick with her tight little cunny until I was jabbing furiously
in her; pumping great gobs of hot seed in her gyrating belly.
I can't really say one was BETTER than the other; only
different. Very sexily different. I didn't know how I was ever
going to give up either of them. Still, I wasn't about to marry
either one right yet, either. Besides, I still had two more
girls that Lonnie was going to set me up with. They deserved
their chances too.
(What a change from three weeks earlier, where I was
wondering if I was ever even going to get a DATE, let alone get
laid. Now, I was "giving different girls a chance at me.") I
almost felt like some stuck-up snob. On the other hand, I wasn't
just going to jump in and marry the first girl who let me in her
panties either! (Well, maybe I would . . . Suzy was one HELL of
a fine catch, as I was finally coming to realize . . . 12-years-
old or no. So far the other girls were damned good; but Suzy was
still better than any of them . . . except possibly for her
little sister. But 10-years-old? Naw, I couldn't do that to a
little girl like Ginny. She deserved somebody more her own age.)
64
The next morning both my parents poked their heads in;
telling us, "You kids get ready for breakfast." There was
absolutely no doubt about what the three of us had been doing
though, as both little girls were dribbling thick white drops of
my thick white cum from each of their tight little slits. I had
just finished fucking each of them for the third time that night;
(Or was it now morning?) this time doing a fairly good job of
getting each of the little girls off, before filling her womb
with thick white jets of hot sticky cum.
For a bit, it almost looked as though I might be fucking my
big sister too, as she had come by earlier to "help out" by
talking dirty, while I was fucking the two younger girls. At
first it was embarrassing to fuck either girl, with my big sister
watching; but then her nasty comments about little girls who
liked to fuck, and nasty boys who like to squirt sperm in
10-year-old little girls got to be too exciting, so I did it. I
fucked both little kids, while Lonnie watched; ejaculating my
sperm in each of them under my big sister's interested gaze.
All three of us were about to haul my big sister into bed
with us, and I was about to show her just what little brothers
are good for, when she dodged around our reaching hands, and
headed down the hall to the bathroom to "take a pee," she said.
Damned lucky she did; though I didn't feel that way at the
time. Our parents called us to breakfast about 3 minutes later,
and if they'd been one minute earlier, it would have looked to
them like I was fucking all THREE girls. Dad might somehow put
up with me fucking the little 12-year-old girl next door; even
possibly understand me porking her 10-year-old little sister. No
way would he ever understand me slipping my prick into my own
sister though . . . or at least, so I thought then.
After that incredible night, things slipped back to normal
after breakfast. The two girls went back home; and I went back
to mostly "pulling my pud" when I got horny. Still, Suzy did
manage to suck me off twice during the week, and one of the two
times we actually managed a quick fuck in my bedroom on Thursday,
while everybody else was outside.
65
Chapter 8
Date #4.
That Friday, Lonnie just gave me an address. It was three
blocks away.
I knocked on the door, and waited; then knocked again. I
was about to knock a third time, when the door opened, and I
almost knocked on the forehead of a little girl who couldn't have
been much older than eight. She was dressed in an almost skin-
tight outfit that screamed SEX! A tight little tube-top, and
short little micro-mini looked completely out of place on an 8-
year-old. The hard flat eyes measuring me didn't do much to make
me feel easier.
"Oh shit!" I thought. "Lonnie set me up with THIS?" I
mean, Suzy was way too young, and if she was young, then what
about her little sister? This, however, was getting ridiculous!
What kind of pedophile-monster did my big sister think I was,
anyway? Still, I HAD promised Lonnie I would try. Only if I
tried, was I eligible to collect on her "guarantee."
I almost chickened out anyway. Horny I might be; I was NOT
a child-molester. In any case, I was going to give my big sister
an earful when I got home.
"Well?" prompted the girl, in an almost sneering tone. If
this was my date, then it didn't augur well for my having a good
time.
"Uh," I said, hesitantly, "I . . . we had a date tonight?"
The little girl looked at me like I was some kind of slime
that you found under the refrigerator. Then her face cleared.
"Oh. Sorry," she said. Then, with a void that seemed far
too old and loud for such a little girl, shouted, "CAROL! It's
your DATE!" then slammed the door in my face. What a . . . kid.
I didn't DARE put my full thoughts into words. Carol, huh? I
wondered . . . .
I was right. It WAS Carol Whittingham. Yes, the same Carol
who I had asked three times for a date at school, and who had
teased me about going out with Suzy on my first date. The same
Carol Whittingham who had stuck a dig in at me on my second date,
until Betty-Lou had straightened her out. For the second time
that night, I almost called off the date before it ever started,
once I saw who it was going to be with. Only I HAD promised
Lonnie I would try. Besides, Carol HAD pointed out that she had
been unable to see me on those past Fridays because she had been
working. On the other hand, why hadn't she offered me another
night, like Saturday, or something? I decided to wait and see.
If the night was a bust, then it was a bust. Then I would take
my big sister up on her guarantee, and see how nice SHE could
make my night. Still, Lonnie hadn't let me down yet.
Carol started out by apologizing for her little sister.
"Sorry Mark," she said, "but Michelle was expecting someone
OLDER, for her date. The little slut says that older men treat
her better. Can you believe it? Well, neither can anybody else
in the family, but we know better than to try and stop her.
Don't tell anybody this, but I think the little shit is actually
fucking some of the men she goes out with. Her manners leave a
lot to be desired, too."
66
I couldn't say a word. In the first place, I had already
fucked a little girl not much older than her little sister,
(Michelle, it turned out was 9, and dressed to look even younger,
but like a slut.) so I couldn't put either her little sister, OR
the man fucking her down. It was also too much like the scenario
that I thought Lonnie had set me up for. "It's OK," I mumbled.
"I won't tell."
"Well, it's NOT OK," replied Carol; surprising me. "You're
too nice a guy to have to put up with her shit. Too nice to put
up with MY shit too, for that matter."
"Huh?" Once again, I showed my brilliance . . . NOT.
"I treated you like a jerk," she explained. "All those
times you asked me out, and I begged off. SURE I work on
Fridays . . . it's a convenient way to shake off the weirdoes and
nerds." Carol raised her hand, when I started to object. "Yes,
nerds," she said. "That's what all the girls called you. I
didn't really think you looked all that bad. In fact, you're
quite handsome. So why did I turn you down?"
I shrugged. I figured Carol would let me know, if she
wanted me to.
"It's because I'm a worse jerk than you were supposed to
be," she explained. "I was afraid that the other girls would
make fun of me for going out with a guy who's a bookworm, and who
wears glasses. THEN when you came in with those other girls, and
THEY all seemed to have a good time with you, like I could have
been doing, I'm afraid I got jealous. So I got catty. Luckily,
Betty-Lou set me straight, and told me how to fix things. So I
talked to your sister, and she set me up for this date. I won't
blame you, if you decide you don't want to go out with me, now
that you know it's me. Your sister told me to tell me that if
you decide to leave, once you know the truth, then she'll still
keep her end of the deal . . . whatever that means. At least, I
got a chance to apologize."
I stared at her stunned. Carol thought I was handsome? My
big sister would stand by HER side of the "guarantee" if I
decided to call the date off early? Carol really LIKED me,
especially enough to apologize to me like that?
A girl as nice as her, HAVING to apologize? For almost 15
seconds I stood there like a dummy; saying nothing.
"I see," said Carol finally. "I'll go back home, and you
can go out with one of the nice girls you already know . . . ."
"Sorry for taking up your time." With this, she turned back
to the door, and started to open it.
I felt like the heel that Carol must have felt like for
stepping on ME. "Wait!" I said; stopping her just in time. "I'm
sorry; I just didn't know that a nice girl like you would care
enough about someone like me to say that. I like you. I think
you're one of the prettiest girls in the class. That's one of
the reasons I kept trying to get you to go out with me. You're
pretty, and sexy, and intelligent, and you seem to like the same
sort of things I do, and you get along well with people. That's
why I kept having hopes that you might go out with me. You never
turned me down flatly, like some of the girls did. You always
let me down easy; and never called me a nerd. Can we start
over?"
67
Carol actually blushed. I had heard about this sort of
thing, but it was the first time I had actually seen it happen to
anybody. Her neck turned pink, then the redness ran up into her
cheeks, and she kind of ducked her head and generally looked
embarrassed. "I suppose," she said, "but I'm not sexy."
I looked at her with astonishment. Even in the demure plain
white blouse and knee-length skirt, it was obvious that Carol had
curves where Suzy or even Betty-Lou didn't have curves. She
wasn't the wet-dream come alive that Marsha Swiggins was, but she
definitely WAS sexy. I told her so; asking her if she ever
looked in the mirror.
Carol blushed even brighter, if possible. This time, the
red went up her cheeks and all the way into her hairline. "I'm
NOT sexy," she said. "Not really. Michelle is sexy. Betty-Lou
is sexy. Even your girlfriend Suzy, is sexy. I'm not. I can't
be; or at least, I don't dare be sexy. If I was as sexy as my
little sister is, I'd probably be pregnant before two months were
up. I'm sorry, but I don't dare."
I pointed out to her, that being sexy did NOT have to mean
that you had sex, like it was so obvious that her little sister
did. Being sexy was in how you looked; and more importantly,
acted. Being sexy did NOT mean that you had to have sex.
Carol agreed, but, "I STILL can't be sexy. I don't DARE to
be. If I did, especially around a nice guy like you, then it
would just be teasing you. I couldn't do that to you. It
wouldn't be fair. Do you still want to go out with me?"
I pointed out to Carol that a guy didn't have to have sex
with a girl, to have fun. MANY times I had sat alone on previous
weekend nights, just dreaming about having the chance to be out
with a girl on a date; talking to her and enjoying her company,
without expecting to get in her pants. We could still have a
good time together, even if we never did do anything sexually.
And that's what happened.
Carol and I went to the movies together. It wasn't hard to
find a new movie that we both hadn't seen, that appealed to both
of us; unlike some girls. Carol insisted on paying her own way
into the movie; over my objections. She said it wasn't fair to
me to have to pay, when I wasn't "getting anything" out of it.
When I pointed out that I was having a good time, she
replied that she was too. She DID let me buy her a snack at the
restaurant afterwards, though. All through the movie I was more
aware of the living breathing girl sitting next to me, sometimes
with her hand in mine, while the hijinks on the screen kept us
both in stitches. Carol even seemed to get all the "inside"
jokes that I thought only horny boys knew. I found myself with
an arm around her shoulders, as we shook together in laughter. A
comedy had been a VERY good choice for a movie. Only once during
the movie did I find that my hand had somehow ended up on Carol's
bare leg, but she just firmly reached down and moved it to a more
innocent spot, without being obnoxious or even pointed about it.
I wasn't even annoyed. In fact, it was quite pleasant to go out
on a date without worrying about whether I could "perform" up to
the girl's expectations.
68
Somehow in our chatter during the movie and afterwards in
the restaurant, I came to the conclusion that Carol DID know just
how well I had been doing with Suzy and Betty-Lou. Not only
that, but I think she knew about Ginny too.
It was in the restaurant (yes, the same one) that I also
found out how Carol had gotten off that night . . . she had
gotten Betty-Lou Harris to stand in for her! It seems the two
girls did this all the time, when Carol wanted to go out on
Fridays. Then, other nights, she would return the favor for
Betty-Lou.
At the restaurant, Carol left to go to the restroom for a
few minutes. When she returned, she slipped something soft,
white, and slightly damp in my pocket. "I decided that NEXT
time, I WAS going to be sexy . . . for you," she said. These are
a promise . . . if you can promise to wait that long. I am STILL
not the type of girl who fucks on the first date." I didn't have
to pull them out to know that the soft white cloth was Carol's
plain white cotton panties.
I almost wanted to sing all the way back to her house, and I
was whistling all the way home; in spite of the fact that while
Carol DID kiss me at the door, and even properly on the lips, the
kiss was almost as chaste as holding hands, compared with those I
had shared with Betty-Lou or Suzy . . . or even Ginny, for that
matter. Still, I was NOT unhappy. Maybe I hadn't gotten laid,
but four weeks earlier I would almost have killed to have a date
even half this good.
For the third time, I ended up at home, with a girl's
panties stuffed into my pant's pocket. I was getting to be quite
a collector of sexy girls' panties (and it was completely
unintentional . . . at least, on my part it was). Now I had FOUR
panties in my secret stash.
"Now, I owe you FOUR," I told Lonnie. My big sister just
smiled, as if she knew something I didn't . . . .
Well, she did. I just hoped I could afford whatever she
wanted, because it would be hard refusing my big sister anything,
after this.
You'll find this hard to believe, but the following week i
got laid precisely once each day; starting with a quick fuck from
Ginny on Saturday afternoon, and followed by an equally quick
liaison with Betty-Lou on Sunday.
The rest of the week, Ginny and Suzy traded-off each night,
with a quick fuck after supper, before one or the other of us had
to be off to some previous engagement, or do homework or
something like that. Not one was a real date, and only on
Wednesday did I even manage a quick 69 with Ginny to get HER off.
Not that any of the girls didn't get off when I did, it's only
that one day that we had even a LITTLE time for something extra.
It all seemed so "arranged" somehow; as if all three girls
were making sure I didn't suffer from "lack of sex" until my next
date. Well, perhaps it was. I only jacked-off twice during the
week.
69
Chapter 9
Date #5.
On the last Friday of the five that Lonnie had promised to
"set me up" on a date, I ended up in front of a driveway where I
felt completely out of place. I mean, houses like THIS one, you
didn't see except in movies. Certainly boys like me didn't date
girls who lived in four-story houses, with long drive-through
driveways, with gates at each end, and almost 10 acres of
manicured and landscaped lawn around the house. I felt like some
kind of impostor. Heck, I didn't even KNOW any girls whose
family was rich enough to live in a place like this on. Heck, it
probably cost two or three million easily. Through the trees I
could even see a private dock and boathouse. I almost chickened
out and went home. Only my promise to Lonnie to at least TRY
with WHOEVER she set me up with, stopped me . . . .
Besides, Lonnie hadn't let me down yet.
When I ran the doorbell, and a BUTLER answered, I KNEW I had
the wrong house. I mean, NOBODY affords butlers these days.
Certainly not anybody I knew, or who would be willing to go out
with a peon in an old Chevy, like my father had loaned me. "Uh,"
I started to stammer an apology to the butler, and sneak out.
"You must be Master Mark, that Miss Marsha was talking
about," said the butler in an almost unbelievable British accent.
(I learned later that it WAS a fake; put on just like part of his
uniform. Danforth, [Dan, in private] was paid to ACT like a
butler, so he did.) "Please follow me. Miss Marsha will be down
shortly."
"Down?" "Miss Marsha" I didn't know anyone named "Marsha"
except . . . no, it couldn't be. The "down" part, became obvious
as the butler led me past an enormous grand staircase, like you
only see in movies. Oh shit! What had Lonnie gotten me into
THIS time? First making out with under-aged little girls, and
then the sexiest slut in three major cities. (No; I was NOT
running Betty-Lou Harris down. She WAS the sexiest slut in two
states, and proud of it.) Now, it looked like my big sister had
set me up with (of all people) the "Ice Queen." The sexiest girl
in the sophomore class, who had the reputation of teasing
everybody, but putting out for no-one. A died-in-the wool, cock-
teasing bitch.
Marsha wore sexy outfits to school, that while perfectly
legal, showed more of the curvy body underneath, than should be
allowed on any planet occupied by horny boys like me. I knew I
wasn't the only boy in my class, or two classes ahead of and
behind her, that had jacked-off more than once thinking about
what Marsha Swiggins had up under those short little dresses of
hers, or how her sweet red lips would feel wrapped around my
swollen cock. Well, at least ONE mystery was solved. I now knew
how Marsha always looked like she had just came from a beauty-
parlor . . . she probably had. From the look of this mansion, it
could easily hold 20 or 30 servants, and a hairdresser would fit
in quite nicely. For sure, even if she didn't have a personal
one, daily trips to the salon would be pocket-change to her
family. No wonder she could afford to look down on peons like
me.
70
I wondered just how Lonnie was going to explain THIS, when
Marsha gave me the cold-shoulder, when she learned I was just the
Mark who was in the class behind her; not even a sophomore yet,
and certainly not in HER league. Well, I only hoped she would be
nice about it . . . .
Though with Marsha Swiggins' reputation of being the "Ice
Queen" I doubted it. Then I thought it over. Marsha REALLY only
had the reputation of being a "nice girl" who liked to dress sexy
(thus getting the reputation of a tease). Just because she
didn't "put out" didn't mean I couldn't have a nice time. Heck,
look what had happened the other week, with Carol. I decided to
give Marsha a chance . . . even if she WAS rich. (And a damned
good thing I did, too.)
I EXPECTED Marsha to come "sweeping" down the staircase, in
some long fancy gown, and give me the cold-eye, when she saw I
wasn't dressed to kill, like she would be. Heck, the suit the
butler was wearing, I knew cost more than my entire wardrobe, and
HE was just a servant!
Well, my date came down that long staircase all right, but
not "sweeping" in a long robe. You won't believe this, but
Marsha came SLIDING down the banister; wearing a micro-mini that
blew up when she did, so I could actually not only see her
panties underneath the short skirt, but could see right up to her
bare bellybutton above it! "Wheeeeee!" She said; barely jumping
off in time to avoid running into the post at the bottom, and
stumbling a bit so she ended up right in my arms.
I found myself with an armful of cute, wriggling, barely-
dressed, and VERY sexy girl! And instead of pulling away, and
giving me the "cold eye" like I had expected, Marsha actually
SNUGGLED into my embrace, as if we were old friends, and just
pulled her dress down enough to be barely "decent," while asking,
"Hi Mark. Isn't it FUN to slide down a banister? Daddy had them
build THIS one, just for me, when I was a little girl. He knew I
liked it then, and I still do."
Danforth commented gravely, "It's not very refined, to slide
down the banister, Miss Marsha. Your mother would have a fit, if
she knew you were doing it in front of guests."
"Oh piddle!" said Marsha. "Mark here is my friend, and my
date, who's taking me out tonight. I don't have to be refined
with HIM, now do I?" Here, the girl gave me such a sweet smile
that I couldn't have denied ANYTHING she said.
"No," I choked, "you don't." Even the SMELL of the girl was
fit to dive you wild. She smelled so fresh, so clean, and yes,
so SEXY. Not to mention her looks, with smooth mouthwatering
mounds on her chest; big enough to look sexy, but without being
so big as to look overbearing. Her rounded hips, and long bare
legs below the micro-mini . . . .
"DOWN boy," I told myself, "or you'll be getting your face
slapped, like so many other boys did." I could see how, with her
sexy look and actions, how so many boys in the past might have
been tempted to make passes at this gorgeous creature.
Especially, as with all her wealth, she didn't seem to have a
pretentious bone in her body.
71
No wonder the boys called her the "Ice Queen." With all
that sexiness, then it was no wonder some of the guys made passes
at her. Ones she probably didn't want. So, she got the
reputation for teasing, but not putting out.
At least, nobody that I had ever heard of, had ever bragged
about getting in Marsha Swiggins' cute little panties. So, it
was assumed she liked to leave boys with blue balls. Which just
goes to show what assuming things does for you. (Yes, I'm sure
you've heard the "ASS-U-ME" joke.)
Before I realized it, we were chattering gaily together like
old friends, and somehow I found myself opening my father's car
door for her like a princess. Marsha climbed in, like the jalopy
was a royal carriage. With HER inside, it almost was.
So, we headed for the drive-in, just like my first date.
Only I didn't expect to have the same luck with Marsha, that I
had with Suzy. I mean, I figured Marsha had to have gotten her
reputation of "Ice Queen," somewhere.
It helps to make plans. One reason I liked to use my
father's car for taking a girl to the drive-in, was that it's one
of those FEW convertibles left on the road. When I had taken
Suzy, the night had been colder, and besides, I hadn't wanted to
embarrass either her or me, by calling attention to the fact that
I (a high-schooler) was taking out a kid. (OK! Suzy is NOT a
kid!) Tonight was warm and humid, so I fought the top down,
before I picked Marsha up. It is NOT impressive to manually take
down or put up a convertible-top, when you're on a date.
I wondered why the line was so short at the entrance, which
boasted, "FIVE nights a week, rain or shine!" Uhuh. You guessed
it. I hadn't checked the weather-forecast, like so many people
obviously had (those who stayed away that night). We had hardly
been there more than 20 minutes, and the trailers and cartoon had
just finished, when a big drop hit me on the nose. Damn. Well,
that's the reason for convertibles, right?
You guessed it again. The damned thing stuck. By the time
Marsha and I had struggled together to get the top up, we were
both a mess. She had slipped in the mud; getting gray goo up her
knee, and I had fallen down trying to help her, so I was a MESS,
with gray slop coating the front of both pants and shirt. THEN,
the wind started to pick up. With both of us hanging on, we
managed to fight the now unstuck top down to where it would
fasten. But by then, neither of us were in a mood to watch the
rest of the show. Thank goodness we had at least seen the
cartoon.
Now you MIGHT think that being soaked to the skin, losing a
heel from her shoe, and having mud-streaks down her leg, (not to
mention being chilled by the wind blowing through our wet
clothing) would make Marsha so pissed-off at me, that she would
never speak to me again. Only you would be wrong.
For all her reputation as the "Ice Queen", Marsha was VERY
friendly. In fact, seeing me fighting to get the top down, then
working WITH me to get it down while fighting the wind to keep it
from being ripped (and incidentally, me from my father's wrath if
I HAD gotten it ripped . . . canvas tops are EXPENSIVE) had
somehow worked us into a camaraderie that would probably have
been difficult to accomplish just by watching some stupid movie.
72
I took her back to her house; apologizing all the way. Only
Marsha wouldn't let me. You see, she HAD watched the news, and
even the weather report, and hadn't thought anything about it
until we got drenched. First thing I knew, Marsha was
apologizing to ME. When we both stopped to listen to each other,
this led to a good laugh on both our parts. Then, Marsha started
apologizing to me AGAIN. It took me a while to figure out what
for.
It seems that she and Betty-Lou were VERY good friends. If
a guy was nice to Betty-Lou, then, and ONLY then, would Marsha go
out with him. This meant that Betty-Lou got lots more dates than
she otherwise would, and Marsha got guys who were nice enough to
treat a rather plain girl nicely. Only nice guys need apply.
THAT is why she had previously turned me down, and acted so
frosty to me . . . she had figured I was just another guy trying
to get in her pants. Being rich, intelligent, AND beautiful had
its drawbacks, it seems. Too many guys were out either for her
money or her body. So she and Betty-Lou had worked out a system
between them.
Betty-Lou didn't mind being fucked, just to get fucked. She
LIKED to have nice guys take her out, but she liked just plain
nasty sex too. So, all the guys who tried to date Marsha got
subtly (or sometimes NOT so subtly) steered to Betty Lou. If
they treated the class slut nicely, then Marsha would give them a
chance to treat HER nicely. A few (very few) didn't make the
second cut. Thus, the reputation of the "Ice Queen" who went out
on dates, but never put out. Marsha DID put out, it seems, but
only to those who wouldn't tell. In other words, NICE guys.
And it seems that I was in the lucky position of having
gotten the best recommendation from THREE girls, that Marsha had
ever gotten. Uhuh, Betty, Carol, AND my big sister Lonnie. So,
Marsha had been planning on going with me to the drive in, (yes,
the traditional "make-out" place) to seduce ME. Only neither of
us had paid any attention to the weather-report. Shit.
Well, THIS louse-up I couldn't take out on my big sister.
After all, I had promised to give my date a GOOD time, not a wet
squishy broken-heeled mess of a washout. Even though Marsha
didn't seem to be mad at me, it sure wasn't HER fault either,
that I didn't "have a good time."
Only I was being too hasty.
When we got back to her "mansion" (as I was tempted to call
it) Marsha invited me IN, instead of waving good-bye, and sending
me home. To say I was astonished would be putting it mildly;
flabbergasted would be the more correct word.
The butler was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Marsha's
parents. It seems that servants don't work all night, and
Marsha's parents had taken the opportunity of their daughter
being on a date, to have a little "private-time" out themselves.
Marsha and I were all alone in that big house.
73
Marsha led me in though a side door. It seems she didn't
want to annoy the maid, by making a mess of the main
entrance . . . good maids, it seems, are as hard to find as good
butlers. Once inside, she immediately started to strip out of
her clothes, as casually as if she got undressed in front of ALL
of her dates like that. If I was astounded at her letting me
come inside, what can I say about THIS?
"Well, hurry up," she prompted me; pointing to the waiting
washing-machine where she was tossing her clothes. "If we hurry,
the clothes will be dry by the time you have to go home." Marsha
stood there, naked as a jaybird, with both hands on her hips, as
if I was retarded to not see the obvious.
Well, retarded I'm not; easily embarrassed, I am. Still, if
you thought I would "chicken out" of getting undressed in front
of the sexiest girl in high-school, when she had already shown
HER nerve by doing it first, then you don't understand how
"macho" image works. No way could I let a girl show me up.
Besides, she was being too damned friendly about it, as if being
naked in front of boys like me happened every day with her. How
could I act any less confident? Still . . . .
"You're sure about this?" I asked, as I peeled off a soggy
sock, before starting on my trousers.
Marsha looked at me with astonishment for a minute, then
suddenly giggled. "Oh," she said with amusement, "I guess it
DOES look like I was inviting you to . . . ."
Here she burst into a REAL set of giggles.
I paused; looking through the neck of my shirt I had half-
off, and looked at her in dismay. Had I been assuming too much?
"I'm sorry," she said; giggling, "I should have THOUGHT how
it looked to you. I was just trying to get our clothes dried
out. I wasn't trying to seduce you."
Shit. Still, she DID sound honest.
"Though," she said; suddenly taking the sting out of it, "we
might get around to that later."
HOPE! I was NOT going to force things by asking HOW much
later. Maybe I should have pushed things, considering what
happened.
Ten minutes later, Marsha and I were sitting in the kitchen;
listening to the washer making gurgling noises from the laundry-
room, while we both sipped steaming cups of hot chocolate. We
were both wrapped in ENORMOUS towels, but nothing else. I must
say, the towel looked a LOT better on Marsha than it did on me.
She had it wrapped around her like a sarong, and she wore it like
a queen. I couldn't help but let my eyes follow her everywhere
she went. And to my delight, Marsha didn't seem to mind.
She had only gotten the towels to wear, because she thought
we might be "more comfortable" drinking chocolate in them, while
the clothes washed. To my joy, she hadn't retired to another
room to get dressed; simply wrapping her nude body with the towel
right in front of me; as if she didn't mind my seeing her nude or
not-nude.
74
With the hard-on I was soon sporting, it's for certain I
felt more comfortable with something to hide it. Only I think
Marsha knew what I was hiding under the towel; as her smiles over
the steaming cup in her hand couldn't have been all for my wit.
I was too busy looking at her, and talking about various things
like the books I read (obviously she HAD been talking to Betty-
Lou) why I still drove my father's car, instead of one of my own,
and even about the dates my big sister had set me up on. (No, I
did NOT tell her I had been having sex with them; and she didn't
pry either. I guess she knew if I was going to keep my liaisons
with HER to myself, she couldn't expect me to blab about others.
Only she seemed to know an awful lot anyway.)
Just about the time we finished the chocolate, the washer
also finished with a thump. Marsha grabbed our clothes out of
the washing machine, and threw them in the dryer, THEN she
grabbed the towel from me and her, and threw them both in the
now-empty washing machine, and started it up again.
I watched in astonishment as, naked as the day she was born,
Marsha Swiggins, the "Ice-Queen", the most beautiful girl in the
sophomore class, walked towards the main part of the house.
"Well?" she prompted me; looking over her shoulder, "aren't
you coming?"
For the next 20 minutes, Marsha led me on a tour of the
house. From the basement, with the furnace and hot-tub, to the
cupola above the attic, with the weather-station just outside the
window. Somehow, (and somehow I was not surprised) we ended up
in HER bedroom, where she walked into her own private bath, and
started taking a shower! To my astonishment (again) she held
open the shower-door, and invited me in with a gesture.
--
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