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Subject: RP: Marie (Best stories from my archive) [1/2]
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From: MrDouble@ix.netcom.com (Mr Double)
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Subject: Marie (Mf pedo)
Date: Thu, 26 Dec 1996 22:50:44 GMT
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Double For Nothing!! Tricks For Free!!!
http://www.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html
Be There....
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MR DOUBLE DISCLAIMER
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The following story describes GRAPHIC SEXUAL situations involving
children which are INTENDED TO BE READ BY ADULTS ONLY.
If you are breaking a law in your area by reading furthur, or are
under the age of 18, immediately erase this story, call the police
and turn yourself in.
MR DOUBLE is the Poster, the Author NOT !
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Enjoy ! *---(:> Mr Double <:)---*
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Archive-name: Young/marie.txt
Archive-author: Marie
Archive-title: Marie
CHAPTER ONE
I was living in Toledo, on the East Side. There was Dad, Mom, my two
sisters and my two younger brothers. It was a big old house, with brown
shingle siding and a little yard. I was -- let's see... ten, by a couple of
months. It was late May. My birthday is in August.
I was always sensual -- and I don't mean "sexual." I enjoyed sensual
pleasures: the taste of ice cold pop, the smell of fresh- cut rhubarb, the
shock of fresh snow rubbed on my face, the heat of the good sun baking into
me. I could lay for hours simply rubbing the satin edging on a blanket or
close my eyes and nearly faint from the ripe smell of popping corn.
Anyhow, I was ten-and-a-half and finishing the sixth grade at St.
Cornelius school. We didn't have much money, but Mom clipped coupons and Dad
worked an extra night job so all of us could go to Catholic school.
I was a fair student -- I hated to study -- and did alright. But in the
spring of my sixth-grade year, two things happened.
For one, I discovered I could write. It was an accident -- serendipity
is what my phantom stepbrother would have called it -- because I wrote a
composition on assignment. It was about springtime. And I had a teacher,
Sister Jannera, who talked to me about it. She recognized that I had a talent
for words and she took it upon herself to encourage this. I can't completely
convey what a remarkable thing it was. For one thing, I was only
ten-and-change; for another, I was a girl. This was 1965 in a blue collar
section of a so-called city not known for its sophistication and she was
teaching in a Catholic school -- a bastion of conservatism. For her to
recognize my talent and then encourage it was amazing; no other word is
really appropriate.
[My phantom stepbrother? Oh, okay. Mom was Dad's second wife. His first
had left him -- I think he drove her away -- about six years before. My
stepbrother, Dan, was -- is, really -- five years older than me. He's not
just smart; he's scary smart. He -- Oh, never mind. He's also very sweet and
sexy. And inhibited, unfortunately. Anyhow, he used to visit about once a
year, from New York, where he lived with his mom.]
The second thing that happened was -- Well, you may have noticed I have
these tits, hahaha! I started, shall we say, "developing," when I was ten --
Anyhow, I wasn't much past ten. By May of that year, I had noticeable tits,
noticeable even dressed in my white starched St. Cornelius blouse and plaid
skirt. As a shorter than average sixth grader with a "cute" -- I hated that
word even then -- round little face, they seemed bigger than they were.
Oh, sure, I'd asked about a bra -- at the dinner table, like a dope. Dad
laughed and said that with a bra, I'd look like I'd been bitten by two
mosquitoes. Sweet, eh? But by May, I had gen-u-wine little tits, not just
mounds of baby fat. I remember using the Sears catalog as a guide to take my
measurements. Sears decreed that I needed a 25-A cup at ten-and-change. Of
course, there was no such thing as a 25-A bra, just those stupid -- and too
small -- training bras. The rest of me hadn't developed yet, which made my
boobs more noticeable, since I had a nineteen-inch waist and twenty-four-inch
hips.
So, anyhow, every summer, the church held this carnival -- lots of games
of chance and, of course, bingo -- as a fundraiser and there was --
[What? Oh, yeah, that's significant because that's when I started
keeping a diary. A journal, as my phantom stepbrother would put it.]
Segue to summer. All during the last weeks of school and the first weeks
of summer, the more 'advanced' boys had been trying to get close to me -- or,
more precisely, my tits. So here it was, late July and the preteen training
bra -- the only thing I could get that was small enough for my bust
measurement -- was just a little tight in the elastic for me, especially in
casual garb. If you recall, cutoff tee-shirts had become popular in the
summer of '65. That's significant.
The carnival was only four streets away, but Dad and Mom spent a lot of
time there. Dad was an electrician and Mom was a great little organizer and
the two of them were always over at the church. Everyone said they were
terrific. Of course, no one thought to ask them about the kids --
[Yeah, it is kind of a cheap shot. There's a reason.]
Anyhow, it was the Thursday before Memorial Day. Back then, we didn't
have these arranged three-day weekends, Memorial Day fell on Saturday, so
everyone got beat on the holiday. I couldn't get too annoyed, though. We were
in final exams and when you finished your exam, you were cut loose for the
day. I finished my last exam at a quarter past eleven on Thursday morning,
and after that, I was free to enjoy the sudden, midsummer-like heat wave that
had hit Toledo.
As soon as I got home, I changed into my two-piece suit and a cutoff
tee-shirt. I pulled on a pair of loose white shorts and slipped into my
sandals, grabbed my Coppertone, then went down the block to Lisa's house. We
were best friends, even though she went to Rossford Public. She was already
finished with school for the summer. Lisa had a big ol' Coleco above-ground
pool in the back yard, out behind and to one side of the garage.
[The tee-shirt? I couldn't wear the halter for my suit in public; it was
too small. It was this little bit of stretch fabric and I would have looked
like an advertisement for baby sex. Besides, it cut into me and hurt. It's
not like I had really big tits or anything -- not like later -- but on top of
my little-girl waist and little-girl hips, even the little boobies I had were
really noticeable. They seemed bigger than they really were.
[Look, these days it's not that unusual for a girl to start budding when
she's ten years old. In 1965, it was pretty rare and no bathing suit company
provided for it, because people wouldn't buy them -- they couldn't admit that
their little honey-pies might be growing full-size tits that young. And think
about this: If they wouldn't admit to themselves what they could see with
their own eyes, how well do you think they dealt with explaining the facts of
life to a ten-year-old, let alone talking about love, commitment, birth
control or venereal disease? So in '65, when you grew tits at ten, you
learned the unpleasant way -- usually, from grubby- fingered assholes who just
wanted to squeeze a boob. Okay?]
When I got to Lisa's house, Brenda -- her older sister -- was just on
her way out. Brenda was sixteen and had this terrific figure and was real
pretty and boys were always after her. She was going to the marina where
someone was taking her out on a boat for a ride on the Maumee.
Anyhow, Brenda told me Lisa had gone with her mom to the new mall, over
on Woodville Road, but I was welcome to hang out and swim. She left and I
took her up on the offer. I figured the place was empty, since Jerry -- he
was thirteen then -- had a route delivering the Toledo Blade in the
afternoons.
I raided their fridge for a beer. Yeah, a beer at the age of ten. I'd
had sips and even a half a small glass at cookouts at home, but I was feeling
a bit flaky and adventurous, so I took the churchkey and popped a can of
Blatz. Then I changed and went out back. I was going to get wet and then lay
on the picnic table near the bushes and start my tan. I'm a lot darker than
any of my brothers or sisters and I tan well. Besides, I liked just laying
there and letting the sun soak into me.
But the bathing suit top was still tight on me and just before I went
out, I took it off. There was a girl in the seventh grade who already had
real big boobs and her life was miserable. The girls didn't trust her, the
boys her own age always giggled and older boys were always grabbing her. I
remember hoping mine weren't going to grow like that.
Wearing just the cutoff tee-shirt and the bottoms, I went out. I slipped
into the pool. I knew the tee-shirt would be plastered to me, but with the
tall bushes all around the yard, I figured there was no one to stare. I
bobbed around in the pool for a few minutes, then got out and lay on a towel
on the picnic table. I rolled up the bottom of the tee-shirt till my tits
were almost showing and then just lay there, enjoying the sun's weight. Every
now and then I took a draw on the beer and eventually emptied it.
After a while, I rolled onto my belly. The towel bunched up a bit
between my thighs, but I was feeling too lethargic to do anything about it.
Besides, one of the folds was right under my little pussy and the pressure on
my clit felt nice and tingly.
Anyhow, I looked around: No one in sight. I pulled off my tee- shirt and
lay flat. The sun was so heavy on me that I dozed off. I don't know how long
I slept.
Suddenly, my eyes were open. What had awakened me? I figure it was the
sound of Jerry putting his bike in the garage, because he was striding toward
the back steps. He was wearing sneakers, cutoff jean shorts and nothing else,
if you don't count the newspaper bag and the rubber pad for his shoulder,
where the strap rested.
I don't know what possessed me. Probably it was a 12-ounce can of beer
in a sixty-two-pound body that had been baking in the sun for too long.
"Hi, Jerry."
He froze in midstep, turned and spotted me.
Jerry was 13 and really had a nice build, all lean and with his belly
like a washboard and he was cute. He had lots of curly dark hair -- all
plastered down by sweat, at that moment -- and his jeans were real tight. I
mean, you could practically see his ... stuff through them.
He looked at me, blinked and stared -- and his jeans got snugger.
I liked the way they got tighter. "Would you do me a favor?"
"Sure, Marie."
"C'mere."
He shifted the carrier bag around so it hid the good stuff. I was
already feeling a definite urge, though, and hiding his crotch only left more
to the imagination.
He stopped about three steps from me, standing slightly behind me.
Didn't matter; I knew what he was looking at.
"Would you mind putting some lotion on my back?" I folded my arms and
rested my face on my forearms. I knew that folding my arms revealed the sides
of my little tits to him and I knew he was staring at them.
I heard the carrier bag hit the grass and then I heard the cap coming
off the Coppertone. The bottle had been in the hot sun and the oil was warm
and sensuous. He poured some right in the middle of my back, between my
shoulder blades. He rubbed it around in about a two-inch circle. Shy.
""More? PLease?"
"...sure."
Slowly, the circle widened. I raised myself slightly to rest on my
elbows, momentarily revealing most of my tits to anyone who was paying
attention. And he was paying attention, because the spreading of lotion
hesitated, then became erratic. I let myself back down flat on the towel.
"Lower please?"
By now, his hands were wandering closer to my sides. He froze for a
moment, then more oil hit my back and he started working it lower, into the
small of my back and down to the beginning swells of my little butt. I
reached back with both hands and rolled the top of my suit bottom down about
half-way, maybe less.
I could hear his breathing as he lightly rubbed the oil on the upper
slopes of my ass. I flexed my butt a little and his breathing got heavier.
"That feels so good and I feel so lazy ...." I parted my legs slightly.
"Would you mind doing my legs. I can reach them, but your hands feel so good
-- "
" ... sure."
He started at my ankles and worked his way up my legs. I have good legs
and always have. He was enjoying kneading the taut muscles and I was enjoying
the manipulation. I let my legs part more when he reached my knees and the
higher his hands went on the insides of my thighs, the better I liked it and
the more my legs opened. Part of what I let me like what was happening was
that he was a little intimidated by it, I was the leader and the agressor,
so I was in control. This was new and I liked it.
And then he was massaging the lotion into the smooth flesh adjacent to
the crotch of my suit ... and his fingers began to brush my now-soaked slit
through the material. I hummed tunelessly and pushed up and back a little. He
took the encouragement and worked one finger under the edge of my snug suit
and began rubbing my cunt lips. It felt great. I raised my butt a little, but
he didn't know what I was seeking.
"Mmmmmm -- hold your finger right there for a minute," I said. He froze,
undoubtedly afraid I was going to stop him. Wrong-o, Jerry.
I pressed my cunny down so my clit was rubbed against his finger. I
gasped, "Right -- there -- is the -- place -- okay?"
He started rubbing my swollen little clittie and it wasn't more than
thirty seconds before I was groaning and my hips were moving. Another thirty
seconds and I was clenched in a tight little orgasm. I shook for a moment,
then relaxed back onto the towel. My hips were still moving and his finger
had lost its place. Now he was probing my cunt lips, trying to find the
opening.
"Wait, wait, wait," I said soothingly. I reached blindly behind me and
felt his hard belly, then trailed my hand down to catch the waistband of his
cutoffs in my fingers. "C'mere." I led him around to stand beside the pool
table and turned my head to face him. The bulge in his cutoffs was
impressive. I ran my hand down to it and pressed it through the denim. He
sucked in a breath.
"I liked that," I said. "Did you like it?"
"Oh, yeah!"
"Do you jerk off?"
"... I guess."
"You're not sure?"
He blushed madly. "Well, sure."
"What do you think about when you jerk off?"
I was rubbing my hand back and forth over that promising bulge.
"You know -- doing it."
"With whom?"
"Girls."
"Any particular girls?" I rubbed a little faster.
"Not really." He was lying.
"What do they look like?"
"Y'know -- all grown up."
"With big tits."
"Yeah."
I rolled onto my side. He stared at my tits. I sat up, fought off a
moment of wooziness caused by the heat of the sun, the heat in my crotch and
the single beer. His eyes followed my tits, drawn to them as if they were
magnets. I brought my other hand over and unsnapped the waist of his jeans. I
tugged the zipper down and then pushed his shorts down. He was bare
underneath them. His cock came out, so stiff it was almost bouncing off his
belly. It was a nice 13-year-old's cock, about five or six inches long and
average thick. He had some nice soft hair around the base of it and his
balls looked hard and tight. I gripped his dick lightly -- the first time I
ever touched a hard, naked penis; I felt a little sizzle of excitement run
through me -- and began sliding my hand on it. His knees began to tremble.
"Bigger tits than mine, huh?"
"You have real nice tits for a kid -- " he blurted. "I've been watching
-- "
He suddenly realized what he was saying and clamped his mouth shut.
"So you've been watching me, huh? Looking at my tits, huh?"
He nodded. I skinned my hand up and down his cock quickly a couple of
times, then stopped and wriggled out of my bottoms. I sat naked in the sun on
the picnic table in front of him.
"Would you like me to jerk you off?" I asked, again gripping his dick.
"Would you like to touch my tits and my cunt again?" He nodded.
"Then I want you to do something for me." I stood on the grass beside
him. He was much taller than me. He smelled of sweat and Coppertone and
excitement.
"Anything!'
"I want you to kiss my pussy -- right where you were rubbing with your
finger."
"You mean -- with my mouth? Down there?" He sounded dubious.
I nodded. "Lay down on the picnic table and you kiss me down there while
I jerk you off."
"I dunno," he said. "I can jerk myself off."
"So can I, but I can't lick my own pussy."
"And I can't suck my own dick..." That sudden boldness surprised me, but
not enough to put me off. His hands were wandering over my tits. He was
surprisingly gentle after the first careful squeezes -- testing their
firmness -- and his caresses were exciting me even more. When he began
playing with my nipples I decided.
"Alright," I said. "I'll suck you and you suck me."
He nodded and stepped out of his cutoffs, then climbed on the picnic
table and lay back on the towel. His dick throbbed furiously in the sunlight
as I climbed over him, facing his feet. I straddled his chest with my knees
and back up. He was so much bigger than I that my legs were quite wide open.
I felt his hot breath on my mound and stretched forward till his dick was
touching my mouth.
He began to kiss and lick my cunt and I gasped and opened my mouth. He
hunched his hips up and about half his hard teenage dick was in my mouth. I
closed my lips around his dick as he closed his hands around my little butt
and then I closed my eyes and sucked for oil. I didn't know -- then -- all
the little movements that make a good cocksucker, but this kid didn't notice.
I put my hands on his hips to moderate the thrashing of his fucking movements
and sucked and pulled with my lips. I knew it was going to be about twenty
seconds before he came.
Even so, I started cumming first. He didn't know anything about cunt
licking, but he knew how I responded the first time his tongue brushed my
clit and he knew I sucked harder when he did that, so he got a liplock on the
little bud and went to town, trilling his tongue tip over it as fast as he
could.
I started cumming and didn't stop, not even when he worked one finger
into my cunt. I felt a little tension and a moment of discomfort, nothing
more, and I was distantly surprised it hadn't hurt more. But since I was on
top and I wasn't being controlled or forced or anything -- well, it really
didn't bother me. On the contrary -- my pussy grabbed that finger and
squeezed it. I came then as I cum now: clenched and almost frozen, bucking
toward the source of pleasure -- in this case, his lips and tongue and finger
The combination of that finger-fucking and his prolonged arousal along
with my desperate sucking sent him over the edge. His hips jerked, driving
half his dick into my mouth, and then he was cumming. I hadn't planned to
swallow, but there was no escape before he started to flow and I swallowed by
reflex and then the deed was done, so I kept at it. His semen was so thick!
I was sucking and cumming and he was licking and cumming and both of us
were moaning and cumming. I kept swallowing -- it was swallow or drown -- and
he kept cumming, more than I'd suspected was possible. When he finally
stopped spurting, I sucked as hard as I could and from somewhere in his
teenage balls summoned forth a last gob of sperm. He groaned and his hands
fell away from my butt as I released his spent -- but still half-hard -- dick
from my spermy lips.
I lay sprawled on him in the hot sun for a few minutes, my pussy backed
against the underside his chin and my hips slowly, languidly revolving. His
dick stayed half-hard against the side of my face.
Finally I climbed off him and got down to the grass. It felt crinkly and
warm between my toes. I was still tingling.
He sat up slowly, as if exhausted. His face was slick with my juices, as
were the insides of my thighs. I gathered my stuff -- and the empty Blatz can
-- and turned to him. He was climbing down from the table. "I need to clean
up, Jerry. Can I use the shower in the basement?" I knew about it because
when I stayed over with his sister, we frequently sat up in their basement
recreation room -- such as it was -- as late as we could get away with.
He nodded. "Sure. You know where everything is?"
I reached out and gently stroked his half-hard dick a couple of times.
"I do now." His prick began hardening again. Thirteen.
He took his shorts and stuffed them in his delivery bag and we scurried
into the house. I headed down the basement stairs for the shower. I heard him
climbing the stairs to the second floor, to his room. I knew there was a full
bathroom up there and figured he'd use that one and I'd use the one
downstairs and that would be that.
I figured wrong.
CHAPTER TWO
The basement was divided into three sections. The main part of it was
sort of a rec room, with an old sofa and some old armchairs and an old TV and
stereo, et cetera. Off to one side was the laundry room, which contained
pretty much what you might expect in a laundry. In the corner of the laundry
room was the cinderblock shower stall. I grabbed the soap, turned on the
overhead light -- it was set up so you couldn't reach the switch from inside
the stall -- checked the floor of the shower for nasty little multileggers
and stepped in for my shower. I adjusted the spray so it was like needles
pounding down on me, hot and sharp. I stepped right into the middle of it and
closed my eyes and just savored the feel of the water sluicing over my flesh.
I damn near came again just from the sheer, sensual pleasure of it.
After a while I stepped out from under the spray long enough to pour
some K mart baby shampoo directly onto my head. I worked it into a thick
lather in my thick, dark hair, then stepped back into the spray and let the
water pound the soap out. Then I stepped out of the spay again and grabbed
the big, industrial size bar of Ivory from the soap dish. I worked it into a
thick lather all over my skin and savored the slick firmness of my own body.
I tried to grab my nipples, but the soap made my fingers slip off them -- and
I did it over and over again, simply because it felt so good. Naturally, one
thing led to another.
In moments, I was leaning back against the wall with the spray adjusted
to hit my pussy. I had my legs open and used my fingers to spread my pussy
lips. The spray hit my clitoris and I shuddered and shook. I was so close to
cumming, it was almost unbearable. I finally slipped one finger inside my
pussy. It was just the slightest bit uncomfortable -- but the good feeling
more than made up for that. I was right on the verge of cumming when the
curtain was pulled back. Jerry.
"Can I finish that for you?"
I practically dragged him into the shower. He got on his knees and
kissed my tits and sucked my nipples. The hot water was pounding both of us.
He probed my pussy with one finger and it felt awfully good.
But not good enough.
I pulled his head away from my breasts and stood straight. I reached for
a towel as I stepped out of the stall. My other hand was tugging his to
follow me.
He didn't need a lot of encouragement.
We barely made it into the recreation room. I dropped to my knees and
sucked the head of his hard dick into my mouth. I kept my hands on his lean
thirteen-year-old hips to restrain his natural impulse to jam the whole thing
into my throat and after a minute or so of that, I kind of pulled him down
next to me and urged him to lay back on the towel.
I straddled his hips and trapped his cock between his belly and my cunt
lips. I stroked along it a few times, more for my pleasure than his. The
underside of his dick, turned upward, dragged over my swollen little clittie.
He pulled me down so my face was against his neck and my tits were scrunched
against his lower chest, I reached around behind my little butt and held his
steel-stiff cock steady while I slithered backward.
Both of our bodies were wet from the shower and it was hot and sweaty in
that little recreation room, so we slid against each other. I felt his dick's
head pressing into the furrow of my cunt lips. As soon as it was settled in
place, he hunched his hips up and began pushing it into me.
His cock wasn't very thick, but I was only ten-and-a-half and wet as I
was, it was still a tight fit. It went in slowly, very slowly, bit by bit. My
little cunt was so tight that if he hadn't had all that teenaged rigidity and
enthusiasm, it never would have gone in at all.
But he did and it did.
I loved it.
Feeling his dick slide into me was like having an itch scratched before
you knew it was itchy. His prick was spreading and opening me, filling a void
that somehow hadn't existed until it entered. The cavity of my cunt was so
narrow that I hadn't really imagined it could be in need of this until it
happened. I certainly had never imagined it could feel so damn good.
Jerry had little in the way of style. He just put his hands over the
hard little mounds of my ass and pressed down while his hips rammed that
stiff, throbbing young cock up, relentlessly up. I was so little that my
pussy lips were stretched tight and my clitoris was fully exposed -- it might
have been anyhow, since it's always been a bit prominent -- and the feeling
of his dick invading me and my clit being rubbed by my stretched cunt lips
and...
Well, it all rolled up together inside of me and I started cumming. And
I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. My pussy went into spasms and all I could do
was press down as hard as I could on him and feel his cock sliding slowly
into me, spreading and filling me. I planted my mouth against his collar bone
to stifle my own screams and just gave myself over to it.
By the time he'd gotten his dick all the way into me -- and it must have
taken a good five or six minutes -- I had already had about a zillion
orgasms. When he finally hit bottom and that scrawny thatch of pubic hair was
pressing against my clit, I was totally lost in my cumming.
But when he started moving inside me, it was all over. I came so hard
and so long that I was afraid I was passing out. I might have gone
unconscious, in fact, but I wasn't aware of time or space or place. All knew
was the shattering, shredding pleasure ripping through my little body. My
pussy was tight to begin with, as you'd expect of a near-virgin cunt, and
even tighter, considering how small and young I was. Add the clenching spasms
of my orgasms and--
Well, it only took a couple of minutes of that and Jerry was cumming,
too. His dick swelled inside me and then he was throbbing and jerking in
there and groaning about how hot and tight I was and how good it felt and we
were cumming together.
Again, it seemed like he would never stop cumming, but when he did and
his dick shriveled and even my tight twat couldn't hold him inside, enormous
quantities of juice poured of me and drenched his thighs and the towel
beneath us.
For a long time, we just lay there with me sprawled and crushing across
his hard young body. My hips kept jerking and rolling as little aftershock
orgasms rocked through me. We were both still moaning and panting when we
heard the car in the driveway.
I lifted my head and we stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Then
the realization and panic hit us. We were like a pair of wild mice, scurrying
and running. Jerry somehow stuffed himself, all sweaty and drooling, into a
pair of shorts from the clean laundry and I ran back into the shower and
started it running. By the time Lisa and her Mom were in the house, I later
learned, Jerry was looking through the fridge and I was standing under the
hot shower, again trying to make my knees work as the water stung my flesh.
Their Mom told him to go take a shower before he did anything else.
That was great. In the twenty-five years since then, I've only met a few
women who'd done it that young -- ten-and-a-half -- and none of the others
enjoyed it. For most, it was an unpleasant thing that was done TO them. I was
really lucky to have had so much fun -- lucky and rare. Part of it was that I
had as much control over what was happening as the guy, and that made a
difference. But I'd learned that it could be lovely and pleasurable -- oh so
pleasurable! -- and that was a revelation.
Anyhow, with the exams over for me and the carnival going on, I was
pretty much on my own and at loose ends for a couple of days. Lisa's exams
were still going on and there were all these other things the public schools
did, so I took advantage of it and Jerry and I fucked away three afternoons
of the next week. Then Lisa was free and home too much -- I mean, she was my
best friend, but I wasn't about to confide to her that I was fucking her
brother. She was still a ten-year-old herself and would've said something to
him, even if she didn't do it out of jealous spite for me.
Then we were well into June and Lisa's Mom's routine kept her home most
of the time. Jerry and I had less and less opportunity for fooling around and
he got very interested in this girl his own age. She had big hooters -- the
kind he'd admitted fantasizing about -- and I was forgotten. What he learned
with me wasn't forgotten, though. She benefited from his practice on me when
it came to cunnilingus. Or so I learned, later.
In the meantime, another carnival was approaching -- the town's, this
time, rather than the church's -- and my civic-minded Mom and Dad started
spending most of their free time at that. It was much the same story as with
the church carnival.
[Sure, I'm a little bitter. I understand now -- I may have understood
then -- the importance of it. For Dad, it was contacts for part-time work as
an electrician. For Mom, it was social contacts, widening the circle of
acquaintances beyond the inbred little crowd at the church and on the block.
I understood some of that; it didn't ease my resentment.]
So I went to the carnival -- it was only four streets away -- and there
was this really cute guy working one of the hot dog stands. He was fourteen
and even though he was cute, he wasn't really popular because he had a
reputation as a -- well, nowadays, we'd call him a "nerd." His name was
Marty. It so happened that Marty and I had a common interest: amateur radio.
To me, it was something mysterious and far away. To Marty it was very real
and --
[What fascinated me about it? The idea of being able to press some
buttons and throw switches and be able to talk with people in far off and
mysterious places. Okay?]
Anyhow, he said he had a rig and I wanted to see it so he invited me to
come by his place after he finished his turn in the booth and he'd show me
the works. And I agreed. And he hardly ever stared at my tits or anything
like that, so I figured it was okay; it being Saturday and all, his folks
would be home.
Well, his folks weren't home, just his brother, Phil. Phil was nineteen
and home from college. Their parents were over in Port Clinton visiting
someone. But Phil didn't seem interested in anything except this ballgame on
TV -- the Indians and the Tigers; I remember it clearly -- and drinking beer.
He just grunted when we came in, didn't even look at us.
We went up to Marty's room, which was very tidy. I took that as another
good sign. His rig was set up on shelves against one wall. He powered up and
while we were waiting for the tubes to warm up, he asked me about school and
stuff like that.
When the rig was ready, he invited me to sit in the chair and run the
set. As he got up, I accidentally -- I think -- brushed his arm with my
breasts. His eyes widened and he stared at my chest as if he'd just noticed
it. I was all sweaty -- that room was hot up there under the eaves in summer
-- and where I'd brushed him, the tee-shirt was soaked right to my bra. Which
wasn't concealing much, because my tits were still growing and the bra was
still much too small.
[The bra? No, not for support -- not at that age! --but too keep them
from bouncing all over the place.]
My nipples were getting hard -- visibly, right through the bra and
tee-shirt.
I looked up at him -- he was about five-foot-seven and I was still only
four-foot-four -- and he said, simply, "Wow."
Then he blushed and grinned like a nut and gestured for me to sit. And I
realized I was enjoying the way he blushed and the way he seemed a bit
intimidated. I noticed the hard bulge in the front of his shorts and I liked
the fact that I had done that to him.
I sat down at the rig and followed his instructions, all the time my
nipples hard as rocks and the sweat pouring off me. I asked if he had a fan
or something and he said no, and he was sorry it got so hot up there and
peeled off his shirt. It was soaked, too. He didn't have as nice a built on
him as Jerry, but he was okay.
"Well, that's not fair," I said. "If you can do that -- " And I peeled
off my shirt. It was a helluva lot cooler, not having that hot cotton
plastered to me and it was a helluva lot hotter, sitting there with my
breasts all shiny and swelling up around the sides and top of that pathetic
bra.
He was staring at them.
"You don't mind, do you?" I asked.
"They're beautiful," he said. "I never saw such big, beautiful breasts
on such a little girl..."
It was sheer flattery, I thought, but: "Thank you."
"Can I -- "
"Touch?"
"If."
"If what?"
"If you promise to be gentle and if I can touch, too."
He frowned, obviously puzzled. So since I was obviously more experienced
than he was at that stage, I put my hand over the steel-hard bulge in his
shorts.
He jumped as if I'd burned him, blushed even more furiously and then
stepped forward. I squeezed the lump and he gasped. "Take it out."
He fumbled at the zipper and finally drew it down. The white Jockey's
underneath were strained by his 14-year-old's rigidity. I unfastened the
waist-snap of his shorts and then pulled the shorts and the briefs to his
knees. His dick sprang up and throbbed right in my face. It was about six
inches long and thoroughly average in every way. His balls were tight and
firm in their wrinkled little sack and looked so cute -- !
I put my hand around his cock and squeezed again. The throbbing doubled.
He groaned softly.
He said, "Now, your turn ..."
I reached around and under with my other hand -- I was always very
limber, almost double-jointed -- and pried open the snap of my bra. It felt
so good to have the pressure off! I shrugged and pulled it off, releasing his
hard young cock just long enough to remove the straps.
He reached down with one finger and rested just the tip against my left
nipple. He pressed carefully. My breasts were so firm that it hardly gave at
all. He put his whole hand on my tit and squeezed carefully and the sensation
sent a rush right through my body to my pussy. I had learned how pleasurable
it could be to fuck, and I was turned on by the prospect of doing it again.
With him standing next to the chair, his dick was almost level with my
nose. I pulled him close and bent his prick down slightly. I turned in the
chair to face him and rubbed the silky flesh of the red, throbbing glans
against my right nipple.
"You're gonna make me shoot my stuff," he gasped.
"Wouldn't you like that?"
"It'll get all over everything!"
"Can't have that." I kept rubbing and squeezing and when he started to
spasm, I raised his dick, brought my mouth down and sucked the head into my
mouth. His juice was very thick and a little vinegary. And there was a lot of
it. I knew how to suck and swallow -- I'd had some practice with Jerry,
remember -- and how use my tongue a little. I kept my lips locked around his
shaft and kept jacking him with my hand. I think he came for about a half a
minute. I had to swallow twice. His hips kept flailing away even after he
stopped shooting and his dick hardly lost any of its stiffness.
I realized then that I had my free hand between my legs and I was
squeezing and rubbing my pussy. I was getting very, very turned on. The fact
that he wasn't pressing me or forcing me, that I felt in control of the
situation -- that had a lot to do with it; I felt comfortable and
unthreatened.
I let go of his prick and pushed his shorts to his ankles. He stepped
out of them and I stood and stripped. My white cotton panties were absolutely
soaked.
"Can I just -- look at you for a minute?"
"Look all you want, honey." I caught sight of my reflection in the
mirror on the closet door. Let me tell you, I was damn foxy looking! My
complexion is almost swarthy and ample time sunbathing had darkened it to a
kind of smoldering shade. My hair was long and straight in those days, down
to my shoulders, and my face was round and had a lot of baby fat then. I had
good legs -- not great -- but they were nicely shaped and in proportion to my
hips. My tits were very firm, of course, and looked big and my nipples were
hard as pebbles. My belly was flat and my waist and hips were exactly right
for a healthy almost-eleven-year-old. I had no hair on my pussy yet, so I was
all sleek and shiny with perspiration and all lithe, with hints of the curves
to come. I got turned on even more just looking at myself.
I raised my arms over my head and slowly turned in front of him. When I
was facing him again, he just stood there with his mouth hanging open. But he
was standing there naked and with a rock-hard erection, too.
"I want you to do something for me," I told him, sidling closer.
"Anything," he breathed.
"I'll let you do it to -- with me, but first I want you to kiss me ...
down there."
He frowned. "You mean -- down there?"
This sounded familiar, but I knew how to deal with it, now. I stepped
closer and let my tits press against his stomach. His cock was jabbing my
stomach.
"Yes."
"Is it clean?"
I nodded and began turning back and forth, slowly, so my sweat-slicked
breasts were rubbing against him.
"I don't know how -- "
"Do what I tell you and you'll learn. You may even enjoy it. Besides,
I'll suck you again."
He seemed dubious, but I grabbed his dick and pulled him with me toward
the narrow bed. I sat on the bed, still holding his prick, and pulled him
close to me. I leaned forward to kiss his cock. Then I let go of his dick and
laid back, my legs a little apart.
"Start by kissing my tits," I told him and boy, was he eager! He was
trembling when he crawled on the bed and bent his head down to my tits. He
kissed them all over. His breath was hot, even on my warm flesh. He kissed
them, pressing his lips against the firm curves. He kissed my nipples as
gentle as a fly landing and then got a little adventurous and sucked one
lightly into his mouth. I couldn't stop my gasp of pleasure or the little
shiver that went through my hips. I took one of his hands and put it on the
breast he wasn't kissing at the moment. I led his thumb and forefinger to my
nipple.
"Now very gently, pinch it -- ah!" The sensation was maddening. He was a
quick study and very attentive and quickly got the knack of drawing the pads
of his thumb and forefinger up from the base, barely grazing the hard little
spike until they reached the tip -- and then tugging lightly on it. It didn't
take too much of that before my hips were rolling and my legs were opened.
I pushed his head down over me and he kissed and licked and nibbled his
way down past my ribcage, down over my flat ten-and-a- half-year-old's belly
and abdomen, down to where the fever was. I swear, I could feel my pussy
pulsing with eagerness.
I held his head in both hands and directed his mouth right there, to the
top of my little mound. When his lips pressed my clit, I came. Damn! I just
lay there and shuddered with the pleasure of it. By now my legs wee wide open
and my hips wee rolling around and rubbing my cunt all over his face. He
didn't seem to mind the taste too much!
I tasted blood and realized I had bit my lip, trying to stifle any
noise. I let go of his head and he looked up and said, "Are you alright? Did
I hurt you?"
"Honey, I am totally right and you did it right! Lick me a little, will
you?"
I didn't have to ask twice. He plunged in eagerly, lapping away at my
bald little cunt like a puppy with water. He even tried pushing his tongue
inside a couple of times, but I was too tight. At one point, he pulled my
legs up and over his back, so my thighs were on his shoulders and my vagina
was aimed right up into his mouth.
He was holding my little butt. His hands almost covered my cheeks. He
pulled my cunt up to his mouth and gobbled. And let me tell you, it didn't
take him long to find the most important place. He got the tip of his tongue
on my clitoris -- it felt like it was swollen as a big as a marble -- and
played with it and I was lost.
I reached back and pulled a corner of the bedspread up to stuff in my
mouth and then all hell broke loose. I came and came and came. It was like
some kind of seizure. Even though he later denied it, I could tell that the
pressure of my thighs on his ears had hurt, because his ears were all red.
I finally had to drag his head away from my little pussy; I simply
couldn't take any more. It was almost hurting from that direct manipulation.
I pulled him up on that skinny bed next to me and rolled him onto his
back and sprawled on top of him. He was gasping and I was panting and we were
both absolutely covered with perspiration, which made us all slippery against
each other.
"Have you ever been inside a girl before?" I asked him. He shook his
head. I rolled on top of him and straddled his waist, kneeling. I reached
back and found his cock, hard and hot, throbbing just behind me. I leaned
back a bit so I could feel it press into the upper separation of my ass
cheeks. He groaned a little bit.
"Have you ever been inside a girl before?" I asked him. He
shook his head. I rolled on top of him and straddled his waist,
kneeling. I reached back and found his cock, hard and hot,
throbbing just behind me. I leaned back a bit so I could feel it
press into the upper separation of my ass cheeks. He groaned a
little bit.
I leaned forward onto him and gave him a big wet kiss right on
the lips and we tongued each other a bit. His hands had come up to
stroke and caress my back and slide down to squeeze my ass.
"You just lay there a minute and I'll get this under wy," I
told him. I knelt up and moved back, then crouched over him. His
dick was standing up so stiffly it was at maybe a forty-five degree
angle to his stomach. I grabbed his prick in one hand and lowered
myself till it was against my cunt.
My pussy was all red and swollen and I was incredibly wet.
Still, it was a good thing he was so hard, or it never would have
gone into me. As it was, the fit was so snug that when maybe a
third of him was inside me, I stopped and tried to relax.
"I don't think I can hold it," he groaned.
Well, I wanted him to hold it, because it felt so good going
in -- but I wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel, so I
said, "Honey, you just relax and let it shoot."
He sighed and I pushed down and back, thrusting more and more
of his dick into me and he started cumming. His hands pulled my ass
down and I had almost all of him in me before he stopped shooting.
I could feel his spasms, but I was already so wet I didn't feel his
jism in me.
But he stayed mostly hard and when I finally got the last of
his dick in me, I started sliding around. I let myself fall forward
onto him, so my titties were pressed into his upper stomach and I
just let my hips go, rolling and rocking and sliding up and down.
In no time at all he was hard as a rock inside me again and I
was starting to cum again. Unlike the orgasms when he was eating
me, this one built and built and built, like a wave coming in, and
when it started, I could feel my little cunt close even more around
him. He was jerking his hips up, thrusting into me crazily. I sat
up and back and let all sixty-four pounds of me press my cunt down
hard onto his stiff dick. I glanced down, past the barely jiggling
mounds of my hard tits and the swollen-to-bursting points of my
nipples and I could see his dick stretching into my little pussy,
my cunt lips pulled wide to accommodate his shaft.
I just kept cumming and cumming and then he whispered that he
was going to cum again. I grabbed my nipples and squeezed and
ground my cunny down till my clit was mashed into the little pubic
mat around the base of his cock. I felt his dick flex as he creamed
inside me and each throb sent me deeper into my orgasm.
I toppled forward onto him as he finished and lay there with
his dick, finally shriveling, still clamped in my puss. I thought I
would pass out; he had.
I pulled myself off him. My cunt held onto his limp prick and
stretched it out till it popped free and flopped back onto his
belly. A thick mixture of juices, his and mine, seeped out of my
tight slit. His dingus looked cute now, all curled up and shriveled
like a little boy's.
I put my panties back on, mostly to keep all that stuff from
draining down my legs, then my shorts and my bra. My breasts were
still swollen and very tender. My tee-shirt was too drenched -- so,
for that matter, was the bed -- so I rummaged through Marty's
dresser and took one of his. It was way too big, which was just
fine by me.
I let myself out of his room and walked slowly downstairs.
Phil was still in front of the TV, now with a sandwich and potato
chips in front of him, along with the beer. The game was still on.
"Who's winning?"
"Indians." For the first time he looked at me. "Who're you?"
I told him. He shook his head and looked back at the game.
"Funny. I thought you were eleven or twelve."
"I'll be eleven in a couple of months."
He looked back at me, staring quite openly at my figure.
"Damn. You have one hell of a figure for a kid your age."
"You don't have to sound sad about it."
"I wish you were old enough for -- never mind." He laughed.
"For what?"
This time he gave me an appraising look. "Where's Marty?"
"Upstairs. I asked him to show me his ham station. You still
didn't tell me what you wish I was old enough for."
"Nothing a kid like you should be hearing." He turned his gaze
firmly back on the TV. "I'll be seeing you around, Marie."
"Be seein' ya'," I said and let myself out of the house.
So I had made this discovery, see? I could find and be close
to and even have sex with nice men and I could turn men on and
still have them treat me right and it could be fun and sweet and
pleasurable and not hateful or hurtful or scary. All the way home,
five blocks on the East Side of Toledo on a hot summer day, boys
would stare at me and some men, too, and most of them would look
away when they saw my face and realized how young I was, and it
didn't scare me. That was important: It didn't scare me.
And since it could be fun and didn't scare me and felt awful
nice, I determined to do a lot more of it.
When I set my mind to something, I do it. This was no
exception. I had just been warming up, so to speak.
CHAPTER THREE
I saw Marty a couple of more times in the next few weeks and we tried
all sorts of things when we could. I somehow got the feeling Phil suspected
what was going on, but he didn't say anything to me and if he said anything
to Marty, Marty didn't tell me.
Then my phantom step-brother came to visit for a week or so. I purposely
bought a new two-piece suit in a size that fit my waist. In other words, it
was far too small for my bust. Then I made sure I was sunning myself on the
picnic table out behind the kitchen window when he came in from the airport.
He didn't even recognize me at first. Then he just shook his head and looked
away from the window, the one that looks out on the back yard. He was, let's
see, fifteen then, and damn! what a fox! But he always behaved properly
toward me -- I could tell he was a little uncomfortable -- and nothing
happened, no matter how much I tried to provoke it. And I tried.
But my best friend, Lisa, got a terrible crush on him and the way he
dealt with it was so sweet! He treated her like a regular grownup person, not
like an eleven-year-old with a crush, and very gently steered her away.
Hahaha! I remember when she gave him a present -- a bag of potato chips. He
accepted it and thanked her for her thoughtfulness and she jumped up and gave
him a little kiss on the cheek and ran away. He sat there, blushing like mad,
and just opened the bag and offered some to me. I was laughing at Lisa and
he demanded that I stop.
"Oh, Dan, she's just got a terrible crush on you! It's puppy love!"
He looked me right in the eye and told me he thought she was sweet,
pretty and nice and then he said: "Besides, Marie, do puppies hurt less than
grown dogs?"
I stopped laughing.
And that was the thing about him: He understood things you already knew,
and he could remind you of them.
Anyhow, by the time Labor Day rolled around -- the last weekend of
summer -- Marty and I were on the splits. All there'd ever really been
between us was sex and I'd figured out he wasn't the only boy I could get. He
was nice enough, but he was, well -- dull. My eleventh birthday came and went
in August.
The problem was that I loved sex and I'd gotten used to getting it
pretty much when I wanted it. And I was horny as hell.
On the Friday night of Labor Day weekend, Alexis -- my sister; she's
almost five years older than me -- was out on a date and Mom and Dad had
taken my two baby brothers with them out to Genoa, to Uncle Van's, to watch
the fireworks show. I knew they'd be late getting back, so I decided to treat
myself to a hot bath and little Yellow Pages fun --
[That's what I called masturbating. You know: "Let your fingers do the
walking"?]
The only other one in the house was my younger sister, Jeanne. Jeanne
was exactly eleven months younger then me and she was a beauty. She was less
like me than like Alexis -- who's a natural plantinum blonde with a
peaches-and-cream complexion and ripe red lips. Jeanne was sandy blonde and
already had this lovely face and long legs. My phantom step-brother used to
call her the fawn, because she was so lithe and graceful.
[Right, I was sort of the missing link. Grandma used to say there'd been
a nigger in the woodpile where I was concerned, because I was so swarthy and
built completely different. I found out years later that there was a reason I
was different, but Grandma had been way off the mark...]
Anyhow.
I had drawn a hot, hot bath and filled it with bubble bath, this stuff
I'd gotten for my birthday from some cousin or other. I lay in the tub and
spent some time just savoring the heat of the water and the scent of the
bubble bath and then started fooling around. Pretty soon, I was all worked
up. My fingers weren't just walking; they were dancing and diving. I was
rubbing my clitoris like I wanted to rub it right off and when I came I made
some kind of noise and sloshed water, because Jeanne banged on the door and
asked was I okay.
I told her I was okay and she kept wanting to know what I was doing.
Really spoiled it for me. So I got out of the bath and toweled off and opened
the door and stood there naked in front of my little sister. Jeanne was just
wearing a tee-shirt and panties and she looked so pretty...
"Something private," I said and took my towel down the hall to my room,
still naked.
She followed me.
"I know what you were doing."
"What?"
"Playing with yourself."
From down the hall, I heard the last of the water sucked down the tub
drain.
"That's right, Jeanne." I started to turn away, then changed my mind.
"How did you know?"
"I know you've been doing it for a while, now."
"Do you do it?"
She blushed just a little and shrugged and nodded. "I guess so."
I noticed that beneath her loose tee-shirt, the little nubs of her
nipples were hardening. "What do you think about when you do it?"
"...stuff."
"What stuff?"
"Just ... stuff." She was obviously uncomfortable with this. So I
pursued it.
[Yes, I was being a bitch.]
"What do you think about?" she demanded.
"Doing it with boys."
"Doing wha -- you mean, IT?"
I nodded. "And I like it."
"You've done it with a boy? When? Who? Did it hurt? Did you like it?
What did he do?"
"For one thing, he never made me stand around all wet." I started to dry
myself. She was watching.
"Did they grab your boobs?"
"Sometimes, but I made them stop if they hurt me."
"Did you like it?"
"It can be very nice."
"I wish I had nice boobs like you." She was watching them bounce and
move as I dried myself.
"It's not so much the boobs as the nipples, Jeanne." I stood and looked
down at my breasts, then reached up with one hand and rubbed the stiff nodule
of one nipple. It swelled even more. I pinched it gently and couldn't help
sighing with pleasure. "Definitely, the nipples," I said. I looked up at her.
"You don't have to have big boobs to enjoy having your nipples kissed and
licked ... and sucked."
"But if you don't have boobs, they don't pay much attention to you above
the waist."
"Too bad they don't, isn't it? It's really nice ... " I rubbed the pad
of my forefinger across the other nipple. "Try it," I said.
She misunderstood.
My baby sister -- not little, cause she was about three inches taller
than me -- reached out and brushed her fingers across my nipple. She caught
me by surprise and so did the sensation of having someone else touch me like
that. In particular, having a woman touch me like that. My sister, even.
The tingle that went through me was intense; I was afraid I was going to
have an orgasm -- bang, just like that. As it was, my knees got a little weak.
"You mean like that?"
I nodded. "Or like this -- " I reached out and lightly caught one of
those little pencil-eraser-size bumps under her tee-shirt and squeezed it,
oh, just ever so lightly, between my thumb and forefinger. Her eyes
half-closed and her lips, those lush, pouty young lips, parted slightly. I
dropped the towel. Without releasing her nipple, I did the same with the
other nipple and stepped closer to her, carefully twisting the swollen little
buds. Her breath was shallow, but hot and sweet on my face. Her lips looked
so sweet, I just had to --
So I kissed her, right on the mouth, kissed her the way I liked to be
kissed and apparently, our genes ran true. She gasped and kissed me back and
after a few moments our tongues met. She brought her hands up and began
caressing and feeling my breasts. I raised her tee-shirt and found her tits
had just begun the slightest of swellings around the prominent nozzles of her
nipples. I licked her little mounds and then lavished my tongue on her
nipples. Her knees kept buckling.
I led her to the bed and pulled her tee-shirt off. "I'm going to show
you how nice it can be, sweet Jeanne." She lay back readily and I bent over
her, licking and kissing her nipples, her budding breasts, her throat and her
mouth. She kept running her hands all over me, but never quite touched the
place that most craved touching.
It wasn't long before we were laying side-by-side on my bed, kissing and
caressing each other passionately. Finally, when I was on top of her, I
leaned to one side and put my hand between us, on the mound within her wet
panties. I rubbed my fingers carefully around her pudgy little cunt and she
started bucking her hips up toward me. I pulled her sodden panties down,
exposing her fledgling pussy in all its perfect, hairless loveliness and then
I rolled to poise on all fours over her.
"I am going to make you feel wonderful now," I said. "Okay?"
Her eyes were closed in her flushed face and she merely nodded and
moaned. Then I twisted on the bed and began lapping at my sister.
Yes, I ate her. I loved it. Not just the sweet, fresh taste of her
juices or the slick feel of her naked pussy under my lips and tongue. That
wasn't all of it. For one thing, I loved the way she kept moaning and moving
with pleasure beneath me. For another, I was getting the chance to lick her
in exactly the way I'd wanted to be licked, as I'd tried -- and failed -- to
train Marty to lick me. Best of all, it was like telling the world, "Fuck
you! This is how sweet and good and beautiful it is at heart -- not the
dirty, secret hurtful thing you make it out to be!"
She came in long, gentle, rolling waves of pleasure, all clenched and
slippery and writhing. She was so beautiful in her innocent passion!
Finally, I lay back with my face wet with her juices. I stretched out
next to her and pulled her face to me. She hesitated -- and then we
tongue-kissed again. Her mouth was soft and sweet and seeking and she seemed
determined to lick all of her own secretions of my mouth. She sat up and over
and began kissing my breasts, pausing the suck my nipples, and kissed her way
down, down, down over my flat belly and down to my thighs. She kissed the
insides of my thighs for a long time and then --
And then she began licking me. As soon as her tongue touched my cunt
lips, I began cumming and when she located and locked in on the fervent bud
of my clitoris, the sensation was exquisite. My cunt clenched wildly. I
reached out and pulled her over me, so her legs were astraddle my head, and
then I pulled her precious little cunt into my mouth and we began
sixty-nining. I begged her to put her finger in me and she complied
hesitantly -- until she comprehended my response; then she worked that finger
around and around happily, setting off explosions within me like firecrackers
on Chinese New Year.
I didn't even think about what I did next until I was almost doing it --
and then it was her response that gave me pause. I had one finger poised at
the clamshell-tight lips of her cunt above me, about to probe within when she
tensed. I remembered how it had hurt me the first time; I didn't want to do
that to my baby sister -- hurt her, I mean. So I merely traced my finger
around her swollen cunt lips while my worked busily at her clit.
But after a time -- a minute? Five minutes? I dunno -- she raised her
head and wailed, "Dammit, Mar, stop teasing me! Put it inside!"
Whatever you want, baby sister.
I slipped it in carefully, to the first joint, always ready to stop and
withdraw at the first resistance of hymen.
But my fingers slid all the way into that unbelievably tight little
cunt, right to the base, and when my sister came this time, she was like a
madwoman -- and she vented it all on my cunt.
The two of us bucked and arched and came, over and over again. When we
could finally stop, I pulled her up to me and we lay in each other's arms,
panting and kissing and hugging and still tingling.
When I could speak, I told her, "I was afraid to put my finger in. The
first time usually hurts."
"I know," she said simply.
I opened my eyes wide and stared at her. Her eyes wee wide and clear and
knowing, inches from mine.
She said nothing. After a moment, I understood -- as she'd known I
would. We had something else in common. We held each other tightly for a long
time, quietly comforting and bonded in a shared experience.
[No, I don't want to talk about that. Not now.]
CHAPTER FOUR
Jeanne and I got to be regulars at that, sneaking into bed
together whenever we got the chance -- and that was every few days,
at least, since who would suspect a ten-year-old girl and her
eleven-year-old sister -- even if the eleven-year-old was
developing the kind of figure I was?
[Oh, yeah, well strange as it sounds, they didn't seem to be
growing that fast right then, as if there was this first spurt and
then it slowed down a more normal pace; the major difference was
that my "normal pace" had gotten a head start. I was kind of glad,
in a way. I mean, they had stabilized at too big for a training
bra, but I still wasn't able to wear even a 32-inch bra, the
smallest they sold in the stores. I only measured twenty-five
inches at the bust.]
The problem was, I wasn't growing taller or wider, either. I
was only about four-foot-five and my waist was still nineteen
inches and my hips were just about twenty-four inches, so I still
looked surprisingly busty. If it hadn't been for Dana Connolly --
Dana and I had gotten to be pretty close friends, mostly
because she and I the were two girls always getting hit on by high
school kids. Dana was tall for her age -- about five-foot-three or
-four -- and she had a real figure, all nice, sleek curves. She had
these real long legs and lots of blonde hair. Dana wasn't pretty,
but she was attractive and I could see the boys found her sexy and
I knew why: She had a way of walking and moving .... Mmmm. She was
sexy and she knew it and she flaunted it. And she was adventurous.
She'd try just about anything. With anyone. She told me things --
[No. I promised I'd never tell and I haven't and I won't. even
though she betrayed me two years later. We haven't spoken since.
But a promise is a promise.]
Where was I -- ?
Right. Well, if it hadn't been for her, I probably would have
gotten all the wrong kinds of attention for all the wrong reason.
As it was, when we hung out together, boys who came on to me got
lured away by Dana -- which was just fine, as she liked any
attention from boys, and I was sort of picky.
[No, I hadn't lost interest -- quite the contrary, my dear! --
but the kind of high school boys who come on to a sixth-grader were
not the kind I wanted to deal with. Dana seemed able to handle
them -- and did she enjoy handling them!]
It was fine with me.
The first half of my seventh-grade year was pretty uneventful.
Oh, sure, I came on to a couple of eighth grade boys and a freshman
at Rossford High -- I was successful with all but one, who got
scared and ran away -- but it was always furtive and sneaking and
there was never time to really enjoy it. Besides, mostly they just
seemed interested in grabbing my tits and poking me with their
fingers. One of the eighth graders was ready and willing to fuck
me, but every time he got his cock near me, he came. This happened
over and over again, to our eternal frustration. It was almost
funny -- and it was amazing, too.
One night, I got him alone in the back of one of the school
busses parked in the school lot. We had time and I was determined.
He always amazed me when he came so fast, because there was a lot
of it. He had really big balls and even after he came, he got hard
again.
This time, I figured, I would get him off a couple of times
and then get him inside me. It was November and it had been almost
a month since I'd had a hard dick in me. My baby sister's lovely
tongue and fingers notwithstanding, there was no substitute for the
real thing.
We were having a little bit of Indian summer, so the Saturday
night in Thanksgiving weekend, we sneaked into the lot and into one
of the buses in the back. I stripped us both to the waist -- from
the ankles -- and went to work. Sure as a clock, as soon as he got
between my legs and I grabbed his dick, he came all over the place.
I mean, on the bus seat, on my legs, on my cunt, my belly --
everywhere. And stayed hard. Mostly.
Fine, I thought, and proceeded with my plan. I stroked him a
little, my hand all slippery with his cum, and when he was really
hard again, lined up his cock with my pussy. And he came again --
just like before. Gobs everywhere.
And stayed mostly hard.
I told him, No problem; we're gong to lick this thing. And
then I did just what I said and got down and started licking him.
He got stiff as steel and came in my mouth. I thought I'd drown.
Surely, I thought, after cumming that much three times in
twenty minutes, this time he'll last longer. I stroked him a little
and had him lay on the seat. I managed to squat over him and this
time the tip of his dick touched my cunt. Success! I thought.
Wrong-o. He spurted again and left a lake of it dripping on
his belly and pooling there.
This went on for about an hour and a half and all together, he
came on, around and over me about six times.
On the seventh try, he got the head of his cock into my pussy
and started cumming immediately. I was on the back seat of the bus
with my legs around his waist; he was standing on the floor. As
soon as I felt his dick enter me, I pulled him in the rest of the
way. If I'd thought he'd cum the first six times, I hadn't seen
anything. I think he must've cum in me for a full minute or more.
The only reason he stopped was he passed out and collapsed. By
then, the jism had filled my cunt and backed up and dripped out
around his prick.
His cock was still hard.
I considered squatting over him and taking advantage of it,
but by then I was tired and stiff and hardly even horny any more. I
woke him up and cleaned him up and he told me how he loved me and
how great it was and we left.
Christmas and winter came and went. Dad got drunk a lot that
year, worrying about money, I guess, and he got mean when he got
drunk. Jeanne and I conspired to avoid him and were largely
successful.
So then it was spring of 1966 and that was the first time I
seduced an older man. It wa over spring break -- we called it
Easter Vacation at St. Cornelius.
I'd gone into Genoa to stay at Uncle Van's house for a few
days. His daughter, Charlene, was a lot like me in some ways.
Charlene was a little more than a year older, but she was all pudgy
and baby fat, just starting to melt away. But was she ever boy-
crazy! Charlene made even Dana seem tame. She'd do anything to get
boys around her and keep them near here. She'd told me how she once
pulled a train --
[Gang-bang. When a girl fucks several guys in succession,
that's pulling a train.]
She was almost thirteen. She'd done it when she was twelve,
with a bunch of her brother's friends.
Her brother, Tod, was a real asshole. He was fifteen then. A
real blockhead. About six foot two, maybe two hundred and twenty
pounds -- enormous for his age. But he didn't have a brain in his
head -- and no sense of right and wrong, either. If he wanted
something, he bullied his way around till he got it. He'd started
fucking Charlene when she was nine. "Raping her" is more like it.
If Charlene was twisted, Tod was why. Sometimes I wonder if she
didn't provoke .... No. I don't think any nine-year-old girl knows
enough to do that. And I think Charlene may have been a little off,
y'know?
Anyhow, Charlene and I got along pretty good and besides, they
had this terrific in-ground pool and it was shaping up to be a hot
summer, judging by spring, and they had a finished basement with a
pool table and stuff and her folks were away a lot. Uncle Van drove
on the racing circuit, and they were always off somewhere or other.
And I just wanted to get the hell out of Toledo for a while.
It was nice. We sat up and watched scary movies from the
Detroit stations and we exchanged notes and secrets about
mysterious doings with boys and --
[No. I didn't find her appealing in that way and she didn't
care for women that way.]
They lived in this development off State Route 51 and their
neighbor was this guy named Roger something-or-other.
[Did you know that "roger" is now another word for "fuck"? No
kidding. In upper-class circles now they talk about men rogering
women. Everyone knows what it means, so why don't they just say --
Oh, never mind.]
Anyhow. Roger's wife had just left him, oh, not six months
before and the guy was a wreck. Charlene told me he was all messed
up -- couldn't sleep or eat or anything.
Roger was about twenty-seven and about six foot tall and had
this great body that I saw sometimes when he was working in his
yard. And he was nice looking. Not a fox, like my phantom step-
brother; just nice. But there was something about him that had me
all achy and twisty-stomachy and wet and itchy inside just to look
at him. Charlene told me his lights were on all night and he always
looked really tired and sometimes you had to call his name two or
three times before he noticed you. It was like he was still in
shock from his wife leaving him. Charlene didn't know why she'd
left, but said she was a real slut -- worse: a cheat.
I knew he was a long haul trucker and when he was working,
he'd be away a week at a time. I knew he was quite an amateur
gardener. And Charlene had told me he sometimes let Uncle Van use
his basement workshop, because his hobbies included cabinet-making.
That was my key. I waited for the right moment. It came two
days later. Van and Aunt Irene were down in Kentucky for a race and
Tod was passed out -- as usual when his folks were away -- from too
much beer. Charlene had taken her bike to peddle over to Casper's
Corners, this country-road intersection about three miles away
where a lot of kids hung out.
I waited till I heard the radio from his house and then went
over. It was about seventy degrees, but there was a breeze. I wore
a light windbreaker, real short cutoffs that had faded and shrunk
all soft to fit snug on my butt. Under the windbreaker I was
wearing a thin tanktop and nothing else. I rang the bell. He
answered, wearing a pair of jeans and a sport shirt. The jeans were
nicely filled.
He didn't recognize me through the screen door for a moment,
then he smiled. "Hello. You're Marie, aren't you? What can I do for
you?"
"Uncle Van said you know cabinet-making and I wanted to ask
you about it. Can I come in?"
He held the door for me and asked if I'd like a Coke or some
juice, and I said water would be dandy. While he fetched it, I
looked around the living room.
Roger's house was identical in layout to Van and Irene's, but
where my uncle's house was decorated to look like an Italian
director's idea of a swinging Playboy pad -- all shag rugs and red
drapes and such -- Roger's looked like one of those model rooms
they set up in furniture stores. And everything was spotlessly,
shining clean. There was a whole bookcase full of books. I looked
them over: Reader's Digest Condensed versions. Ycccch. But at least
he read books.
He returned, water in hand. I unzipped my windbreaker about
halfway and thanked him.
"I want to put a bookcase in my room -- not real big, just
about this high --" I held my hand even with my breasts. "-- and
about this wide --" I held my arms wide apart. This caused the
windbreaker to part and my breasts to heave up into sight within
the tanktop. "Do I need a lot of power tools for that or can I just
use a hand saw and hammer and nails?"
"Easy. You don't even need a saw. The lumber yard will cut the
boards to the length you want for about a nickel a cut. Hammer and
nails and glue will be -- "
"Glue? Like Elmer's?"
"Better to use Carpenter's Glue." I nodded. "What color will
you paint it?"
"I don't want to paint it. I like wood."
He grinned. "Smart girl. You could stain it, you know. That
would give it a shade to go with your room and wouldn't hide the
grain."
"I suppose, but Dad's always talking abut how easy it is to
mess up with stain."
"Naw; you just have to know how to do it. I'm going to stain a
piece I just made; want to watch?"
Well of course I did and I'd known -- from peeking through his
basement window -- that was what he was going to do, which was why
I'd asked the question I'd asked. Heheheh.
His basement was as neat as his living room. Half of it was a
little recreation room with a pool table. Built-in couches lined
two walls. We went into his workshop and he showed me how he
stained furniture -- in this case, a natural penetrating stain on
the maple top of what would be a gorgeous credenza. And he was
right: It was easy and neat, not at all messy, if you knew what you
were doing, which I figured could be said about a lot of things.
I thanked him and we stepped back into the rec room. I picked
up the cue ball and rolled it toward the neat triangle of balls
waiting at the other end of the table.
"Do you play?"
I shook my head. "Always wanted to learn how, but we don't
have one."
"Van and Irene have one. I'm surprised Tod hasn't taught you."
I laughed. "Tod's always trying to teach me something, but
it's not pool. He's always grabbing me and stuff."
"Pretty girl like you will have to expect that and figure out
how to deal with it."
"I wouldn't mind, so much," I said, "except Tod's so grabby
and such an -- " I shut my mouth.
"An asshole?"
I laughed. "Exactly."
"Pool's rules are simple for the major games," he explained.
"It's getting good at it that's tough. Good at pool means
practice." He frowned. "Good at anything means practice." Then he
brightened. "Want me to teach you?"
"You wouldn't mind -- "
"Not at all." He selected a pair of sticks from the rack, and
showed me how to hold the stick and stroke. I kept messing up,
mostly because I didn't have much coordination , but sometimes on
purpose. Knowing what was coming.
"Here," he said, moving around the table to stand behind me.
"Hold on." I removed the windbreaker in the minimally
ventilated room. "It's warm down here." Now my tits were exposed
against the tanktop, which was damp and starting to cling quite
nicely, thank you. he glanced at them, then away. The deep arm
openings went down so low that I knew he could see the sides of my
breasts. "Okay."
He reached his arms around me and bent me forward a little to
reach the cue ball. I could sense him stiffly trying not to make
any body contact. I was having none of that, so I kept arching my
butt out until I felt his thigh against my behind. Then I shimmied
to the left and rubbed my butt on his crotch a little. He froze,
still as a rock -- and the lump in his jeans was just as hard.
He stood straight and I straightened with him, dropping my
poolstick to the felt and taking his wrists in my hands. I led his
hands to my tits and placed them. He lightly cupped my breasts and
his thumbs moved back and forth across my stiff nipples through the
tee-shirt. My breathing was as shallow as his.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he said quietly.
"Why not?"
"You're just a kid -- "
I pulled his hands tighter against my breasts and stood on
tiptoes to rub my denim-clad ass into his crotch. "A kid?" I turned
within his arms. "I know what I'm doing. I like it. I want to do it
-- with you."
I reached down to cup one hand against his balls. My hand was
filled. I unzipped his jeans and wiggled open the waist snap, then
pushed them down. He was, happily, naked underneath. His dick was
the longest I had ever seen at that point, about eight inches, and
quite thick. The head was throbbing against the underside of my
tits through the tee-shirt.
I grabbed the thick shaft in both hands and lightly stroked.
He groaned and rested his hands lightly on my shoulders. I bent a
little at the waist and licked the thick head of his prick, then
opened my mouth and took it inside. By then I knew some things to
do with my tongue and lips and I did them. I sucked and tongued his
dick head and he groaned and warned me he was going to cum if I did
that. I made a loud, affirmative noise and sucked and jacked his
cock all the more urgently, squeezing it at the same time. It was
like squeezing a piece of thinly upholstered wood.
He was true to his word, too -- he came. Oh, boy, did he come!
He arched backward and his dick swelled up inside my mouth so much
I don't think I could have removed it if I'd wanted to and then he
started shooting. I don't know how long it had been since his last
ejaculation, but the stuff just poured out of him in powerful
spurts that made me gurgle, no matter how fast I swallowed. He let
loose three or four of those long geysers and then began shooting
fast spurts -- splat - splat - splat -- like that.
After about a half minute. the spurts slowed and stopped and
his dick started to shrivel some. I sucked the head as I pulled
back and was rewarded with a last shivering dribble of his cum and
a soft groan from him.
He dropped to his knees in front of me and his face was even
with my tits. He pulled my tanktop over my head -- it was pretty
gooey with his overflowed cum, anyhow -- and started licking and
kissing my tits. He would take most of my tit in his mouth and suck
and slowly squeeze it out until just the nipple remained inside -
and then he'd fasten onto my nipple. He'd suck like mad and whip
the tip of his tongue back and forth over it so fast that I
literally had an orgasm with each tit, just as if my nipples were
little clitorises.
All the time he was doing that, he was unfastening my shorts
and pushing them down. When they fell to the floor, leaving me
naked, he ran his hands up over the backs of my legs and clamped a
hand over each cheek of my ass. My butt was so small and tight he
could cover it with both hands. Two fingertips reached past my
asshole and began to rub the thoroughly dripping lips of my swollen
little snatch. I came again when he slipped a fingertip into the
entrance of my cunt.
Suddenly, he reached behind himself and pulled one of the
cushions of the banquet. He whipped the cushion above my head and
banged it down onto the pool table behind me. Then he stood,
lifting me with him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and felt the
underside of his reinvigorating cock against my pussy. He lay me on
the cushion on the pool table and disengaged my leg grip, then
lifted my ankles high, bent at the waist and began feasting.
He licked my thighs and I came. He licked my cunt and I came.
He licked and sucked my clitoris and I came. Soon I was just
cumming, again and again. He took my ankles in his hands and pulled
them wide and tried to stick his tongue inside my pussy. I was so
small -- and even tighter from the constant orgasms -- that he
couldn't even get the tip into me. But I was glad he tried, because
it just made me keep cumming.
Then he pushed my legs back till my knees were near my
shoulders. I was completely opened to his attentions and my hips
were aimed up at the ceiling. He moved his face back farther
and began licking the inner slopes of my ass cheeks. I shrieked
with surprise and pleasure and then with even more pleasure when he
began swiping his tongue back and forth over my asshole. When he
tried to get the tip of his tongue into my ass, there was no way it
was going to penetrate -- but I had fun with his trying! I'd had no
idea anything could feel so good back there and I came again.
He turned me and the cushion on the pool table. Instead of my
legs hanging over the edge, now I was laying along one side. He
stood beside he table, next to my head, facing my feet. My heels
were on the felt and my legs were bent and apart. He bent forward,
put his face between my legs and started licking me again and I
started cumming again. All I could feel was pleasure, endless
pleasure.
At some point, he got one hand under my butt and beyond and
then he bent his wrist and forced one long, thick finger up my
cunt. My pussy grabbed it and tried to get cum from the finger and
I came some more. Then he wedged a second finger in with it,
stretching my little twat, and all the time kept licking me and
sucking my clittie. The juices were running down into the crack of
my flexing ass.
Then he pushed his pinky into my asshole.
I yelped -- it hurt! But I was cumming, too, and couldn't stop
cumming and he just kept working the finger into the narrow hole,
forcing it deeper and deeper until it was all the way in.
He just held it there without moving it, but that didn't
matter: I was thoroughly stuffed, front and back, and the fingers
stretching my cunt were wriggling. I could feel them pressing
against the finger in my ass and vice versa -- and all the time he
was licking and sucking my clit.
I started cumming again and again I couldn't stop. Sometime in
there, he started moving all three fingers in and out of me,
separately. My narrow little butt-hole had loosened just a little
and it still wasn't comfortable, but it sure as hell didn't hurt! I
wasn't sure if the orgasms were starting with my clittie, in my
cunt or even -- and I couldn't believe this -- in my ass. All I
knew was I was cumming and cumming and didn't want it to stop.
But stop it did -- when he withdrew his fingers and his mouth.
The last thing he did was pull his pinky out of my ass, moving it
in little circles as he withdrew it. It was like he was trying to
widen the aperture. I don't think it worked, but at least it didn't
hurt. Didn't feel half bad, actually.
He stood straight beside the table and turned the cushion and
me to our original position, with my ass perched at the edge.
Again, he took my ankles in his hands and pulled my legs open, but
this time he rested my calves on his shoulders. He stepped forward
and his big, hard cock throbbed against my belly. His balls were
pressed against my cunny and the head of his dick was almost on my
belly button.
He rocked back and forth,. The underside of his fat prick
rubbed over my hairless pussy and massaged my swollen, protruding
clit. It was making me crazy.
Finally he backed up and took his dick in one hand. He put the
knob against my cunt.
"Spread your little wings for me, baby," he said.
I reached down between us and held my pussy lips wide. He
rubbed and rotated the head of his dick in the oily cup formed by
my opened pussy and then started pressing forward.
If I'd thought his cock felt big in my mouth, that was
nothing; it was positively massive now. I felt like someone was
slowly driving the fat end of a baseball bat into my little pussy.
While it wasn't comfortable, it didn't hurt, either, but it was
only exciting in an abstract way, not in real physical pleasure.
He pressed it in and my cunt lips started to fold in with his
dick. He pulled back and moved some of the lubrication around and
then pushed again. This time the whole glans made it inside. I felt
like it was possessing me from the inside. Again, my cunt lips
started getting caught and again he withdrew to spread the
lubrication.
He did this three or four times, each time getting more and
more into me and then the head was pressed through the inner
constriction and I could feel it stretching the walls of my cunt.
Now it did feel good. Oh, boy, did it feel good!
"Unnnnnnh -- oh, give me more, give me mooooore," I moaned. He
moved back and forth a little. Bit by bit, he was getting more of
his fat, hard grownup prick into my fledgling cunt. It wasn't
comfortable yet, but the arousal wasn't abstract now, either. I
could almost feel it pushing my insides around and that was so
strange it almost made me cum by itself.
Then the end of his cock was banging into something deep
inside me and that hurt. I let out a little yelp and he stopped and
withdrew a bit.
"Is--is it all in?"
He shook his head. "No, baby, not all in."
I couldn't believe him. I felt like it was reaching into my
belly. I put my hand back down there and felt a good inch of his
dick remaining outside. "I wanna see it," I said.
He took my forearms in his hands and pulled me slightly
upright so I could look down and see. An inch of his dick was
uninserted. My pussy lips were stretched thin as rubber bands about
it and my clitoris was pressed down almost against the back of his
shaft by the stretching.
He let me lay back and my feet fell from his shoulders and
dangled limply to either side of his hips, from the knees down
hanging off the pool table. I put one hand down there and pressed
my clittie into the top of his shaft and then I started cumming
again.
"Awww, fuck me, Roger, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckme..."
Sound like I was delirious? It should, because I was.
He moved in and out of me carefully at first, but every time
he moved, his cock shaft massaged my clitoris and every time the
little nubbin was touched I came; I was cumming every time he
moved, every time my hips twitched, every time we breathed. And
added to it was this big, thick dick moving deep inside me, faster
and faster. I kept cumming even when he got a hand under my butt
and slid his long middle finger up my ass.
Now I was doubly filled, the finger in my ass compressing my
little cunt even more around his cock. And I was cumming twice as
hard. All the orgasms started to run together into one continuous
spasm and then I passed out for a little bit. I know that's what
happened because I remember everything drifting away when I felt
his fat cock swell even more and then it was jerking, spewing hot
wetness far, far inside me. He pressed one hand down over my
abdomen, just above the plump little mound of my cunt, and
everything went golden.
I wasn't out for long, but when I became conscious again, his
finger was already out of my ass and he had most of his cock out of
my cunt. His dick was shriveling and when he pulled the plum-sized
head of it out with audible plopping noise, a regular stream of goo
-- a mixture of his juices and mine -- poured out and dripped on
the table and floor.
If his dick was getting limp, all it was doing was catching up
with me. None of my muscles would work. I was utterly drained and
tingling as if my skin was cumming. He bent and kissed me four
times, gently, almost chastely -- on the forehead, on the lips,
high on my belly and then, right on my cunt, pressing his lips into
the flood of his sperm and my juices. Then he stood, scooped me in
his arms and lay me down on one of the cushioned banquettes. He
went for a towel. By the time he returned, I was on my belly; my
butt wasn't that comfortable. Big surprise.
He sat on the edge of the cushion next to me. He had his jeans
on again and a fresh tee-shirt. He covered me with the towel and
lightly stroked my back through it. That made me feel terrific,
like what we'd done was special instead of something you sneak to
do -- like it was a good, being-together thing.
"How do you feel?"
"My butt's sore," I said and giggled a little. He rested his
hand lightly on one cheek. "But otherwise --- " I closed my eyes a
hummed deep in my throat. "I feel wonderful. Just wonderful. You?"
"The same. I still can't believe it. You're so little and
young and -- But I feel good, baby, really good. And I feel like
someone can like me again."
I almost understood that at the time -- I understand it
completely now, having been through a divorce -- but I knew I'd
done something good as well as something that was incredibly
pleasurable.
He bent over and kissed me lightly and wetly on the nape of
the neck. I shivered. "Wanna do it again?"
He laughed against my damp flesh. "I'd love to. The spirit is
willing but the flesh is weak."
I groped till I found the lump his limp dick through his
jeans. Even soft, it was nearly as big as Marty's was when it was
hard. "Oh, I don't know," I said. "A little encouragement ... "
He laughed. "We've been down here more than an hour."
Which meant my cousin would be coming back soon. "Then I
suppose I better get going. Can I rinse off somewhere?"
"Shower's at the top of the stairs on the second floor, first
door on the right."
I rolled over and the towel fell. He kissed each of my nipples
and helped me stand. I knew I should hurry, but I felt all
lethargic and lazy, like a sated kitten, and walked naked to the
stairs to the first floor. I hurried a little more getting up to
the second floor. I liked the feel of the juices dribbling from
between my again-tight cunt lips onto my thighs, the way the stuff
lubricated my thighs when they touched as I walked.
All of the accessories in the bedroom were hand-made of
redwood; I guessed he'd built it all. It was quite different for a
bathroom of the time and nice in a way. I took a hot, fast shower,
scrubbing vigorously. When I stepped out of the shower, a little TV
tray table awaited me in the hallway. On it were my shorts, a fresh
tee-shirt that was almost the right size, my windbreaker -- and a
tall tumbler of pop with ice in it. I could have cried, it was so
considerate! No one had ever treated me like I was as special --
even more special -- after fucking. Before fucking, sure; but not
after fucking. That was so terrific...
On the way back down, I noticed on the stairway wall the
black-and-white pictures that I hadn't noticed on the way up: a
pretty brunette with great legs and a terrific figure and a pretty
face. Roger had his arm around her waist in one picture.
I ran over to him before he could get out of his reading chair
and threw my arms around his neck and gave him a big hug and a
kiss. "You are so sweet," I said.
"Hey, baby, I enjoyed it, too."
"Not just that," I said. "Bringing my things and the pop and--
well, that was so thoughtful."
He shrugged as if it was nothing more than what was correct.
His arm slid around me and he held me close. He dropped his hand to
my rear and caressed my butt. "Your butt is like a peach," he
whispered, "So hard and ripe and smooth -- I'd love to fuck you
there."
I gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Forget it! I could
barely handle you in the right place!"
"Maybe in a few years -- "
"Say a hundred or so -- "
We both chuckled, then he sighed. "Too bad. I do like doing
that. A lot."
I put my hand on the big bulge in his jeans. "With something
this big ... Is that why your wife left you? It hurt too much?"
He looked astonished. "She loved it. Hell, she introduced me
to it!" He shook his head. "Where'd you get the idea she left me?"
I blinked. "She didn't leave you?"
"No."
"That's what Charlene said -- "
"Oh." His expression changed. "I threw her out. I told her if
she contested my divorce application I'd have her jailed."
"Jailed? For what?"
He looked rueful. "For doing what I was doing today -- messing
with a minor."
I was bewildered and said so.
"It's not all her fault," he said. "I was on the road too
much, too eager to make a lot of money, I guess. Anyhow, I came
back about a day early from a 'Frisco run and found her in bed --
with Tod."
"My cousin?"
He nodded.
"Why would a pretty lady like her who was married to a guy
like you want to do it with an asshole like Tod?"
He held his hands up about a foot apart. "Tod's got a whanger
so big, he makes me look like a little boy. Anyhow, I came home,
heard noises, got my gun, came up, and found her on her hands and
knees with Tod packing her ass. I put the gun to his head and he
got instant impotence. Then I threw her out."
"Was she hurt?"
"Sure she -- Oh, I see what you mean. No, Brenda always liked
them big -- the bigger the better."
I shook my head slowly. "Charlene said some bad things about
her, but hinted that she'd run away with someone."
"Well, who likes to hear bad stuff about a brother?"
"Charlene does. I mean, Tod raped her when she was nine."
He looked horrified. "No wonder she's a little ... odd. He
stuck that thing in her when she was nine?" He whistled. "Poor
kid."
"I better get going." I stood. "I want to do this again."
He shook his head. "Not a good idea."
"But you liked it -- "
"Maybe too much. I could get addicted to little girls and
there are very, very few as mature and sensible and headstrong as
you are, Marie."
"I'm out here a lot, you know."
He stood and put his arm around my shoulders, leading me to
the door. "We'll see -- but no promises ... even though I want to
at least as much as you do."
I put my hand on the hard bar of flesh at the crotch of his
jeans and squeezed and giggled. "I know you do."
It took maybe thirty seconds to scamper next door, but in that
time I had decided there would be no more little boys for me. If
this was what it was like to fuck a real man, I wanted nothing
less.
If I'd known then what I know now, I would have phrased my
resolution this way: I'm gonna make Lolita look like a nun.
CHAPTER FIVE
April of that year left in a hurry and most of May hurried,
too. I didn't get the chance to stay out at Charlene's again right
away, but I knew Roger hadn't forgotten me. One Saturday morning
there was a gorgeous little bookcase, just the right size, in the
driveway beside our house. It was solid mahogany and beautifully
finished and the card taped to it just said, "An early birthday
present for a very special young lady." It was signed, only, "A
secret admirer." I pretended utter ignorance, but sent Roger a
thank-you note on the sly.
I didn't get many chances for adventure and I was pretty much
finished with kids near my age and there weren't any real prospects
among the older guys or men in the neighborhood. I was walking
around in a state of constant horniness, relieved only slightly by
occasional games of stink-fink with Jeanne. That last week of May
dragged on and Memorial weekend seemed to last forever. Dad went on
a rampage on Memorial day because, apparently, of my sister, St.
Alexis the Pure.
Alexis always went around passing judgment and telling us
things were wrong or sins. Anything. Everything. And here she'd
gotten herself caught jerking off some jock in a Dodge. In the
driveway. We're not talking about a Nobel Laureate here, as you can
plainly see.
On the next Saturday, good ol' Marty came snuffling around. He
had his permit and his Dad's old car and offered to take me for a
drive. Well, sure, I knew what he had in mind, but I was so horny
at that point, I would've sat on his stickshift. So we went for a
drive by the Anderson's grain elevator -- romantic, huh? -- and we
did it and then he drove me home.
And I was still horny.
Finally, on the third week of June, Dad announced that my
phantom step-brother was coming to visit. I was determined to
seduce him -- and I was going to have the chance, because his visit
was going to coincide with the church fair.
When Dan arrived, Jeanne and I -- we had been exchanging
fantasies and making plans for two weeks -- were all prepared. We
were both going to do him. Teeheehee.
He was even better-looking than before; other than that, he
hadn't changed much. He still sat up till three in the morning,
reading paperbacks and anything else he could get his hands on.
We'd been counting on that. Jeanne and I would come creeping
downstairs at eleven or so, after everyone else was asleep, and sit
on the floor or the couch -- anywhere we could be sure the light
would show through our nightgowns. He slept on a pullout in the
living room and we'd come through there in the middle of the night,
wearing a pair of panties and, maybe a tee-shirt, maybe not.
He was getting all these nice hard-ons from us, but never did
anything. So we went to Plan B, which we considered foolproof.
Three nights before he was supposed to fly back to New York,
Mom and Dad were going to a pre-carnival dinner for all the
volunteers, and my brothers were staying at Grandma's and Alexis
had this Really Big Date. Dan was left to watch over us. At nine
o'clock, he sent us to take our baths. At nine-thirty -- after we
had spent most of the time plying Yellow Pages with each other -- I
called downstairs to him.
This was the foolproof part:
"What's the matter?"
"You have to make sure we're clean."
"What??!!?"
"That's what Mom or Dad always does."
He muttered something and came trudging up the stairs. Jeanne
and I popped out into the hallway butt-naked and stood there
wearing shit-eating grins, displaying all of our sleek little
charms and secret places. Our nipples were hard enough to pierce
paper when he topped the stairs and turned toward us.
Dan took one look at us, blushed, stared me right in the eye
and said, "Get dry, get dressed, get to bed -- and don't ever pull
this shit on me again. Get moving!"
We moved. So much for foolproof plans.
[What? No, I think he liked what he saw. Remember, I had a
terrific little figure -- 26-19-25 -- and Jeanne was just
sprouting, so she wasn't too hard to look at, either. But he
thought of us as "kids" first and "females" second. Seems pretty
obvious to me.]
Anyhow.
Marty had been calling a couple of times a day and asking me
to come to this "party." The day after Jeanne and I pulled our
foolproof plan on Dave, Marty finally admitted what was happening.
Y'see, Marty was junior varsity football at Rossford High and he
was trying to buddy up to the in-crowd with the varsity. The party
was going to consist of Marty, three guys from the varsity -- and
me. Get the picture?
Right: a gangbang.
I told him to call Dana -- since that was more her speed --
but he said No, he wanted me to do it. He started to get real pushy
about it. It upset me, but I didn't tell anyone.
So the next evening, about five-thirty, I was out on the front
porch with Lisa and Dan was sitting there reading the Toledo Blade.
Marty pulled up with his three would-be buddies. Marty and one of
them -- Eric, the halfback -- got out and came up on the the porch
with him. Marty had filled out and Eric was just big. I remember
there were clouds coming in and the wind had stopped. I could feel
the thunder in the sky, just waiting to start.
I introduced Marty to Dan -- he just waved and went back to
the his sports pages; he was a real baseball nut -- and Marty
introduced Eric to Lisa and Dave and me. Eric was wearing a muscle
tee-shirt and he had the right to wear it. I was wearing a pair of
shorts that were too small and a loose blue pullover. I was wishing
I'd worn a bra, since my nipples were hard and pushing against the
fabric.
"Well, are you going to come with us to the party?" Marty
asked.
I told him the same thing I'd said on the phone: "I don't want
to, Marty. Get someone else to play with you."
"We want YOU," Marty said.
"Cute girl like you could have a real good time with us," Eric
said.
Dan turned the page on the sports section.
"I just don't want to," I said.
"Sure you do," Eric said. He was staring right at my tits.
Dan folded the paper and set it down on the floorboards of the
porch.
"No, I don't!" I said. "Why don't you guys go on to your old
party and just leave me alone?"
Marty put his hand on my arm, just above the elbow and started
to lean toward me, whispering something. I shook free and backed
away. "I think you better go, Marty."
Dan was sitting there with his feet up on the porch rail and
his hands folded across his stomach, just watching us. I was
backing up and backed right into Eric. He grabbed my forearms from
behind and pulled me back against him. I felt his dick rubbing
against me. I tried to get loose. He didn't get shaken off as
easily as Marty.
"She said to let her go."
Dan was standing and he was close. The top of his head was
barely even with Eric's chin.
Eric turned toward him, still holding my forearm in one hand.
"You're not being polite," Dan said.
"And what're you -- "
He never finished what he was saying. I was maybe a foot away
when Dan hit Eric in the face. It was a weird, short punch so fast
that I hardly saw his hand move and didn't even really see the
punch. Later I learned it was some kind of karate punch. At the
time, though, all I knew was that Eric was staggering back with
blood all over his face. He went back about two steps and fell flat
on his ass, just sitting there looking dumb.
Dan turned on one foot and kicked Marty's ankles out from
under him. Marty went down. One of the other guys -- I think it was
Mark -- was out of the car and running up the porch steps. Dan
grabbed one of the aluminum lawn chairs we used on the porch and
scooped it underhand at him. Mark put his hands up to deflect the
chair and Dan kicked him in the knee. Something cracked and Mark
fell down.
Eric was up again and Dan hit him backhanded with his fist,
right across the face and that was it for Eric. The last guy,
Timmy, was coming up the stairs at the same time Marty was getting
up. Dan's back was to him, so I don't know how he knew, but when
Marty tried to tackle him, Dan just kind of half-turned, caught
Marty's arm and helped him keep going -- right off the end of the
porch. I think he was trying to throw Marty into Timmy, but Tim
side-stepped.
"Let's get it on, motherfucker," Dan said and stepped toward
him. Tim started to raise his hands. Dan hit him five times real
fast: in the face with his open palm, then a punch in the stomach,
then another punch low -- right in his balls -- then another punch
high in the belly and then he hit him square in the face with
another punch that went so fast I hardly saw it.
Now, I knew Dan lived in a bad neighborhood in Brooklyn and I
knew he'd studied judo or karate or something, but he was always so
nice and patient, and always trying to mollify people that -- well,
I never expected anything like this. I'd even figured him for some
kind of chicken, 'cause he always tried so hard to avoid trouble.
The whole thing hadn't lasted more than thirty seconds. There were
high school athletes all over the place and they were all hurt.
Lisa just sat there on the porch railing, staring.
Marty was out cold where he'd landed and Tim was the same.
Mark just lay there holding the knee and crying. Eric finally
managed to stand on the third or fourth try and said he was going
to call the police.
"Yeah," Dan said. "Call the cops. Tell them how four football
heroes got jumped by one bookworm from Brooklyn and got the shit
kicked out them. And don't forget to mention the four jocks were
trying to force an eleven-year-old girl to go to a 'party' with
them." He threw a dime on the porch floor in front of Eric. "Go on.
Call them." He laughed. "Asshole." He laughed again. I never want
to hear anyone make that particular sound again; it was like
listening to Hell enjoying a cruel practical joke.
Tim and Marty were coming around. With Eric, they got Mark in
the car and left. Marty backed into a trash can with the Challenger
on the way out of the driveway.
Jeanne stuck her head out of the door -- she'd been upstairs
taking a shower; I never knew anyone who took so many showers --
and asked, "Hey, you guys -- what's all the noise?"
Dan had retrieved the aluminum chair and was just sitting down
again. "Chair fell," he said and started reading the paper again.
Lisa was still staring.
Jeanne said, "Oh," and went back inside. I went to Lisa and
touched her arm. She shivered and said, "I think I'm gonna be
sick."
"Great," Dan said, not looking up. Lisa slid off the rail and
scampered off the porch, heading for home.
I turned to my phantom step-brother.
"I don't want you or Lisa blabbing about this," he said,
without looking up.
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I said. They're not going to tell anyone what
happened and if you and Lisa keep your mouths shut, this'll be the
end of it."
"But -- "
"But nothing. If you start talking about it, though, your
ferocious foursome will have to get even -- and since I won't be
here all the time, they'll take it out on you. Just shut up about
it. Got it?"
He looked up at me. I nodded, went to him, threw my arms
around him and gave him a big kiss, right on the lips. Then I ran
into the house and stayed in the bathroom for about an hour, just
shaking.
I saw some of them around town after that and I saw Marty in
school, but none of them ever said a word to me. I always returned
the favor. Later I found out they'd explained their injuries as
being the result of horsing around playing basketball at Navarre
park.
What was kind of funny, though, was they were all cute and I
was so horny and frustrated, I would've gone with any of them or
even all of them if they hadn't been such damn animals about it.
After a week -- and Dan had gone back to New York for another year
-- I was fantasizing about what it might have been like and kind of
regretting the missed opportunity. But over July Fourth weekend,
Dad borrowed Uncle Charlie's summer house on Kelly's Island and
took us all out there and I got the chance to find out what it was
like to pull a train.
Kelly's Island is out in Lake Erie. You get there by a ferry
from near Port Clinton. In the winter, when the lake is really
frozen, sometimes you can get there by sled or ice boat or even
car, but every year a couple of dweebs go through the ice and drown
while they try that.
It's some sort of national park -- at least part of it is --
and there's all this stuff left over from when the glaciers gouged
the Great Lakes out of the continent. It's very quiet, very
pretty...and very dull -- to a young person with an active libido.
I was less than thrilled by the time we got to the house, a
big ol' place about halfway up a hill and looking northeast over
the lake. Dad and Mom were doing Dad-and-Mom stuff -- Mom was
cleaning and organizing and Dad was looking for things to fix. My
little brothers had discovered a treehouse and were as happy as
'coons in a garbage dump. Jeanne loved that nature stuff and
immediately headed out for the wildlife trails. Alexis, with her
blonde hair and big ass, had gotten herself picked up by some
lumbering islander on the ferry; he had a red Mustang convertible,
so she had everything she needed.
All I had was an itch and two weeks of boredom to look forward
to. Or so I thought.
The house was against the side of a steep hill. Above us was
all forest and the top of the hill was part of the national park-
land, so it was pretty much deserted. It was a good place to get
away from Mom's nagging and Dad's cussing and my brothers' shouting
and bickering. There was a very faint trail climbing up the hill in
a series of cutbacks.
I was wearing some cutoff jeans -- these were cut just above
my knees -- and I'd filched one of Alexis's halter tops. It fit,
which was a nice change of pace for me, since I'd started sprouting
again. I'd thought about shopping for a real swimsuit, but when I
measured myself, I was up to 27-19-25. So much for a real swimsuit.
About two-thirds of the way to the top, a dog suddenly
appeared from the bush. He wasn't very big and he was purebred mutt
with a lot of basset in him. He stopped, looked at me, then wagged
his tail and came right over, his great big eyes looking up at me.
I let him sniff my hand and whine and when he rubbed his head
against my fingers, I started scratching around his ears and under
his jowls. His tail wagged even more. We chased each other up the
trail a little and then he barked once, in enthusiasm. He didn't
have a collar, and I kind of hoped he was a stray. He was a neat
dog.
Then someone whistled form the cliff. He barked once at me and
started scooting up the trail. I followed.
Just as I huffed past the top of the trail, I saw about a
half-dozen kids on blankets. The kids looked like they were about
sixteen or so, some older, some -- the girls -- maybe a little
younger. The dog was with one of the guys, who was watching me.
I said Hi and introduced myself and told him what a neat dog
he had.
His name was Ike. He and the other kids there lived on the
island. He was about a foot taller than me and not bad looking, but
boy, did he have a built on him! The fact that he was shirtless
made it hard to miss, too.
They invited me to hang out with them and I was glad they did,
since it meant some variation at least. The boys all checked me out
-- so did the girls -- but no one came on to me ... then. The girls
seemed a little stand-offish. That made sense. Kelly's Island isn't
big and in a place like that, when the girls get paired off with
boyfriends, they don't want newcomers to upset the balance of
things. But when they found out I wasn't going to be twelve for a
couple of weeks, most of them relaxed. One of them, Reenie -- her
real name was Maureen -- offered to meet me at the house the next
day and show me a short cut. I thought that was nice.
Reenie was sixteen and had a nice face and real dark, straight
hair -- she said her great-grandmother was an Indian -- but the
most noticeable things about her were her tits. She had these huge
boobs, I mean, they had to be as big as cantaloupes. When she came
to the house to call for me, Dad kept staring at her tits like he'd
never seen breasts before. As we were walking to the shortcut, I
warned her as much as I dared about Dad. I told her he was going to
be grabbing at her tits if he got her alone -- Dad was notorious
for that, especially if he'd had a couple of beers.
She looked at me and said, "You know, it's hard to believe
you're only twelve."
I smiled and said that was the way it was.
She told me that when she was my age, her tits were bigger
than mine, but she was also taller. And she confided that she'd
found the attention her figure got from boys was an interesting
diversion from what had become a pretty boring routine.
Since it was tell-all time, I took the bait and revealed that
I was not exactly a little innocent. She set the hook and reeled me
in and I told her a little of my exploits. She told me a little of
hers, but not much.
The same group was there plus a few more. Boys now outnumbered
girls. I figured I'd better play it safe and not mess around, and
assumed that all the boys were spoken for; no flirting by me, no
siree bob.
Some of the boys were throwing a softball around and a couple
of the girls were playing cards and it was nice. We all just laid
around in the sunshine and enjoyed each other's company. From time
to time, I noticed Reenie talking privately to one or two of the
girls. From the way they looked at me after the chats, I knew what
she'd told them. I didn't really mind, not even when I noticed some
of the boys started looking at me different, too, after the girls
talked to them.
Later in the afternoon, a couple of couples paired off and
were making out under an old elm. They were going at it pretty hot
and heavy. One of the boys, Vernon, had been rubbing his
girlfriend's rather scrawny tit and he was moving the other hand
down between her legs. Ellen didn't stop him when he started
rubbing her off through her shorts. She was so skinny that her brown
legs were like two pipes sticking out of her shorts. There was
enough room for him to get his fingers inside one leg of the shorts
-- and he did. I knew from the way she was moving and he was moving
that he was fingering her. They kept it up till she came, then he
stood and led her by the hand back into the woods.
Reenie said something like "Those two are like rabbits." She
looked at me and grinned a little crookedly.
I nodded and said, "Lucky her; at least she's got a boyfriend
with her." Then I looked at the cards in my hand and rummied the
straight flush someone had played earlier.
On the way back to my house, Reenie told me they were going to
have a little weenie roast that night and I was welcome to come.
She said almost everyone would be there, including some kids I
hadn't met. She said that since it was going to be full moon, they
might go for a swim in a pond back in the woods.
It sounded great and I agreed.
When Reenie came for me at the house, it was almost six-
thirty. Mom and Dad had been drinking Blatz all afternoon and I
knew they were going to be asleep early, which meant my brothers
were going to be put to bed early. Alexis was, as usual, Out and
Jeanne was in the bathroom, trying to drain the cistern -- as
usual. I knew what she was really doing in there, but What the
hell?
When we got to the top, it was just getting dark. There were
about fifteen kids there. Someone had built a real careful campfire
in a depression scooped out of the dirt and a couple of kids were
roasting weenies and marshmallows on sticks. Most of the kids were
availing themselves of the beer someone had brought -- a couple of
cases of Blatz and Carling. Vernon and Ellen were making out.
I ate a frank and a couple of marshmallows. There was no soda,
so I washed it down with cold beer. Ike was kind of hanging around
me and there were these little touches now and then -- you know, on
my wrist or my shoulder -- and when I went into the bushes to take
a leak, I asked Reenie who his girlfriend was. She said she guessed
she was, but said she and Ike weren't Like That and not to worry
about it; cookout nights were special. She wouldn't explain more,
but promised that if I stuck around, I'd understand.
When I got back to the group, all ready to let Ike give me
some enjoyment, I found that he and about half of the others had gone
off for their swim. I was wearing Alexis's swimtop and my bottoms
under my shorts and windbreaker -- it got cool out there on the
lake, even in midsummer -- so I was prepared. I followed the sounds
of splashing till I got to the pond.
The swimsuit was not appropriate attire; birthday suits were
the order of the day.
I hesitated, but someone -- one of the guys -- yelled, "Come
on, little girl! Don't be shy!"
I peeled out of my clothes and when I took the halter off, I
heard a girl giggle and say, "Little?"
I stripped off the bottoms and went to the edge of the pond.
One of the guys warned me not to dive because the pond bottom was
uneven, so I waded in and struck out in a shallow crawl stroke
toward the others. The pond was about eighty feet across and almost
round. The far side of it was shrouded in shadows from overhanging
trees. The others were in the middle of the pond. Ike was a little
farther out, where it was deeper. He waved me toward him.
The main bunch was in water about waist deep or a little more.
As I swam past, someone reached out and ran a hand down my back to
my butt and gave one cheek a little squeeze.
Just Ike's head and shoulders were above the water when I
reached him. "Ever been skinny-dipping before?"
"Not since I was a little kid," I said.
"From what I saw, you're no little kid any more."
"And from what you've heard."
He nodded and grinned.
"You guys do this a lot?"
"Every couple of weeks in summer. Weather's got to be right
and there has to be enough moonlight and no Scout troops." He
laughed. "We really upset a troop last summer. They kind of
stumbled upon us."
I'd been treading water for a couple of minutes at that point.
"You getting tired?" he asked.
"A little," I admitted.
He grinned and then I felt his hands on my waist. He pulled me
closer until I was pressed against him. He kissed me and I was all
for it. I wrapped my legs around his hard waist and my arms around
his neck. He slid his hands down to cup my butt and ground me
against him. I felt the hard ridges of muscle on his abdomen
rubbing my clit. I was getting awfully hot. I scooted my behind
down a little and, sure enough, I felt something smooth and hard
bump against the little strip of flesh between my butt-hole and my
pussy. Unfortunately, I was so much shorter than him that I
couldn't possibly think about going farther without developing
gills; my head would've been underwater.
"Can we go someplace a little drier?" I asked.
"Sure -- other side of the pond. Can you swim it?"
I kissed him and nodded, then we disentangled and I turned to
swim. He grabbed my ankles and gave me a push that sent me a good
third of the way to the far side of the pond. I swam till my feet
touched bottom, but he swam past me and was standing before I was.
What a gorgeous sight he was, with that great body glistening in
the moonlight. His cock was as long as Roger's had been, maybe
eight inches, but not as thick. Certainly as hard, though. He held
his hand out to me. I took it and stood and he led me out of the
water and into the dark woods beyond. There were some hoots from
behind us. I ignored them.
I suppose in daylight and wearing shoes it would've taken
about two minutes, but dressed as we weren't and by moonlight, the
twisty path took about ten minutes.
"Almost there," he whispered. We were approaching what looked
like an impenetrable wall of bushes.
"I hear something," I said. "Someone -- "
"It's okay." He put his hand on my butt and pushed aside some
of the brush and urged me through.
There were a couple of old mattresses on the ground inside the
ring of brush. Old sheets were on the mattresses. A couple was on
one of the sheets. Ellen and Vernon; no surprise.
I stopped and stared. Ellen was on her back under Vernon, her
skinny legs bent back till her ankles were next to her ears. Her
hairy cunt was pointed up and Vernon's dick was pumping in and out
like crazy. From the amount of juices on the sheet and on her ass,
I guessed that they hadn't just arrived.
I already wanted Ike desperately, but what he did then
absolutely bound me to him. He bent and put his lips next to my
ear, brushed back my wet hair and whispered, "If you want to
change your mind, it's okay to do it now and no one's going to rag
you for it; I guarantee that. But if you want to stop, now is the
time. Okay?"
I turned and kissed him on the lips and grabbed his rigid
dick. "Now is the time, alright." I dropped to my knees and pulled
his dick into my mouth and started sucking as hard as I could. He
groaned and put his hands on the sides of my face -- lightly, not
forcing. I didn't want to suck him off, at least not right then. I
wanted that hard cock in my pussy, scratching my itch. He didn't
try to stop me when I pulled back. I led him, dick-wise, to one of
the vacant mattresses and lay down.
He lay beside me and kissed me for a while. We were caressing
each other and then he bent down and started feasting on my tits.
He kept stopping to tell me how perfect and firm and beautiful my
tits were. Then he licked his way down my belly and licked my
thighs and then he put his face between my legs.
"Hey! You don't have any hair down here!"
"Not so you'd notice," I said, rubbing my palms over my
swollen nipples.
"Believe me, I'm in a position to notice." He chuckled.
I chuckled, too, but then his tongue ran slowly from my
asshole all the way up my pussy lips to my clit and I stopped
chuckling and started gasping. That boy knew how to eat! And the
way he did it betrayed genuine enthusiasm.
After about five minutes and five little orgasms, I pulled his
face out of my cunt and dragged him up over me. I locked my legs
around his waist and felt his dick head bumping around the area of
my pussy, seeking the opening. I'd loved the way he ate me, but
Jeanne could eat me just as well. What Jeanne couldn't do was slide
a nice hard dick up my hungry little pussy and that's what I
wanted.
He kept prodding and kept missing and I kept trying to catch
his prick in my pussy, to no avail. Finally, I reached around and
under and took matters into my own fingers. I guided his cock to
the entrance, wriggled my hips till it was wedged securely, and
then put my arms around his neck and whispered, "Fuck me, Ike!"
He was trying to ram me, but I was so little and tight that
the going was too slow for either of us. I crossed my ankles behind
his butt and hunched up at him, pulling myself onto his rigid cock
as he pushed down into me. He glans slid inside and he gasped.
"You're so tight! Are you a virgin?"
"Not by a long shot! Just fuck me!"
Well that was what he did. He hooked his hands over my
shoulders, resting most of his upper body weight on his elbows --
sparing me -- and started pumping. I was wet and tight, but he was
wet and he was also hard and strong and he was moving his dick like
a piston in me. I could hear the wet sucking noises my pussy made
around his hard dick. Even with his moaning and my gasping, I could
hear it.
He pumped faster and faster. I hadn't cum yet, but I was going
to soon -- and it was going to be a big one. I could feel it
building in my belly, kind of coiling there like a big spring.
"I gotta -- gotta cum in you!" he hissed. He fell forward
slightly, burying his prick in me. Our pubic bones were touching
and he was pressing my clittie, too. I felt his balls slap on my
upturned ass, into all the overflowing juices in the crack there.
"Cumming -- cumming -- " he coughed.
That did it for me. I locked around him and felt my vagina
start its squeezing and spasming. He howled and poured his jism
into me. I could feel his dick swell with each spurt and that just
sent me higher. Usually, I just get all clenched up and frozen when
I come, but this time my hips started shaking against him and as
tight as my cunt was, it must have felt to him like --
"Your cunt is sucking me! Damn!"
He half-collapsed onto me, his dick shriveling out of my
clutches. He rolled onto his back, rolling me with him to keep his
dick inside. I settled down onto his dwindling dick as much as I
could and rested my head against his chest. He kissed the top of my
head and ran his hands over me.
"I want to do it again, when you rest," I said. "I came so
hard..."
"Why wait till he rests?" said a voice. A girl's voice.
CHAPTER SIX
I opened my eyes wide and looked up. A hard dick was throbbing
above my head. I looked up farther. It was Vernon.
"I mean, Vernon is ready if you are."
To one side stood Ellen, juice coating the insides of her
thighs and matting her thatch of thick pubic hair.
"But you -- "
"Believe me, honey, Vernon is always ready! You won't wear him
out!" She laughed. "Besides, Vern's been telling me he was wanking
off last night imagining what you'd be like and that just made him
hotter with me. Have fun -- I'm going to get some beers!"
Vern started to kneel but Ike told him to back off; he didn't
want Vern's balls right over his face. I crawled off Ike and looked
a question at him.
"It's okay with me," he said, "as long as you don't freeze me
out!"
"No chance."
Ike grinned and winked.
I knelt upright and pulled Vern's dick into my mouth., I
tasted his juice and Ellen's on it. I didn't mind the taste, and
the idea of it turned me on even more. Ike got himself on his back
again and slithered forward till he had his face between my legs.
He pulled my butt down till my cunt was in his mouth and started
licking and sucking me some more. That just made me lick and suck
good ol' Vern even more urgently. It wasn't long before my lips had
Vern moaning and Ike's tongue had me moaning.
Vern wanted to do it doggy style, which was new to me. Ike
scuttled out of the way and Vern turned me onto my hands and knees
and knelt behind me. My cunt was dripping and his cock was hard and
he rammed right into me and started pounding. Ike stayed out of the
way except to reach out and play with my nipples a little.
Vern was hanging onto my hips and slamming into me and I was
just rotating my bottom so his cock was always hitting in different
places. I came a couple of times and then my arms just wouldn't
hold me up any more, so I let my shoulders go down flat on the
mattress. At that angle, Vern got even deeper into me. Then I felt
his finger at my butt, but I was so busy cumming I didn't protest
and to my surprise, it didn't hurt when it slid inside. In fact, I
came some more, because it closed my cunt more around his cock --
as if my cunt wasn't tight enough already!
But that extra tightness and my cumming put Vern over the edge
and he came in me and pulled out. My butt settled onto my heels and
I crouched them, just savoring the little aftershock orgasms. I
looked up wide-eyed at the sounds of movement in the brush around
us and saw most of the other kids were there. A few were couples
busily coupling, but a lot of the others were just watching.
Ike was sitting crosslegged a few feet a way. His gorgeous
cock was stiff again. "I want you again," I croaked.
"Are we letting her join?" someone -- Reenie -- asked aloud.
"I guess so," Ellen answered.
"Yeah," said Ike. "Let's do it."
"What -- ?" I asked.
"You want to do it again?" Ike asked.
"Oh, yesss...."
"It won't be my turn though. Okay?"
"Turn?"
I suddenly understood.
He was watching me. The thought of all those cocks -- !
I reached between my legs and rubbed my pussy. "Do me," I
whispered.
Ike nodded to whoever was behind me, who then knelt, lifted my
hips and fit his cock into me. I was plenty wet on my own and had
two loads dumped in there and he slid right in. I groaned and kept
my hand on my clit as he pumped me. I came again, a couple of
times, then he did, too, and then someone else was sliding into me.
"See, there's not many people our age on the island," Ike was
explaining. He was stroking his cock and watching me get fucked
at the same time -- and he was talking as if he were explaining how
to change a tire. "Reenie and I went together when we were twelve--"
"And went -- and went --" Reenie said, and laughed.
"But then I got mixed up with Helene and she started messing
with Vern and then I got mixed up with Jill and she started
throwing it to Bobby and Vern was doing it with Helene. And what
was funny was we didn't stay jealous very long. When Bobby popped
Ellen, she went and talked to Reenie and Reenie said it was okay
and pretty soon, none of us really got jealous when whoever we were
going with started messing with someone else -- from our group."
The guy behind me came in me. Ike paused, watching me cum. I
couldn't believe this was happening.
"But someone came in here about two years ago -- "
"Me!" called a pudgy girl. Doris, I think her name was.
"And she got all upset when Vern -- "
"Who else?" Ellen cracked.
"Went for an old-times'-sake roll with Helene. So Vern had
this great idea and explained it to her."
"And now," said Reenie, kneeling beside me and caressing my
face as I came yet again, "if someone new wants to play with any
of us, you have to play with all of us. Helps keep anyone from
getting possessive." She trailed her fingers down and trilled her
nails over the side of my breast where it was pressed out by my
weight on it. I shivered and came again.
My cunt was vacant and I resented it. "More, please?"
"Maybe it'd be better if -- well, I'd really like to be sucked
off," someone said. "Do you mind?"
"I want to cum some more, too," I said.
"No problem," said Reenie. She rolled me onto my side and
started kissing and licking my cunt. Another pair of lips started
kissing my butt and then a tongue was burrowing in between. "You
have such a pretty little ass," Ike said from behind me.
"Okay?" said a voice as I shivered through another orgasm from
what Reenie was doing. A boy -- Bobby -- was laying on his side so
his cock was presented to my mouth. It was enormous, as long as
Roger's, but even thicker. I got most of the head in my mouth
and sucked as hard as I could, considering my concentration was
being ruined by the mouth on my cunt and the tongue tracing my ass,
and the hand -- Reenie's -- that had come up to caress my tits.
I put one hand on the shaft of Bobby's cock. I couldn't close
my fingers around it. I pumped and stroked though, and it wasn't
long before he was cumming. He'd been so sweet about it that I kept
sucking when he flooded me with that hot, thick custard, and
swallowed as much as I could. He came a lot and the idea of what I
was doing drove me higher. I was absolutely stoned on sex.
I don't know how many times I came that night. I do know that
I passed out a couple of times but -- I was told -- I kept cumming
even then. A couple of the girls ate me out and I ate them out and
Vern stuck his tongue into my butt as much as he could. Most
of the other girls got fucked, too. I know I fucked all the guys at
least twice and some came back for thirdsies. And I loved every
minute of it.
For a while, I was getting fucked from behind by one guy
while I sucked another one. After a bit I was too far gone to suck
much, so I just let them move their cocks between my lips and when
the one in my cunt came, the one in my mouth would move back there
and another cock would be presented to my lips. Bobby, of course,
came in my mouth every time. At one point I was being fucked from
behind while I ate Reenie. That was so exciting it almost makes me
cum just to think about it, especially since at the same time, she
was sucking off -- who else? -- Bobby.
Then came the most memorable part of all. Someone -- I think
it was Walt -- pulled out as he was cumming and dumped his goo all
over my butt. He held his cock right against my anus, not trying to
probe, and let it squirt right on the opening. I didn't understand,
but at that stage I wouldn't have understood instructions for
dialing a telephone number. All I knew was that I was cumming
almost constantly and I never wanted it to stop. My mouth was
tired, my pussy was sore, but I wanted more!
I got it. Oh, boy, did I get it!
Ike lay on his back beside me and pulled me on top of him. He
kissed me on the mouth, long and deep, right into all the sperm
(mostly Bobby's) that had been dumped there as if he could care
less, as if what mattered was kissing me. my legs slipped apart and
I felt his cock against my thigh. I scooted down a little and he
slid into me and I groaned as I settled down on it.
I had my arms around his neck and was pressed flat against
him, just our hips moving and me, of course, cumming, when I felt
someone kneeling back there. I felt a hard dick against my ass and
knew what was coming. I wasn't sure but --
"Are you ready for this?" Ike asked.
"Anything," I whispered. Ike nodded and pulled my ass cheeks
apart and pulled me down onto him.
"I've been wanting that beautiful little ass of yours since I
first saw you," Vern said from behind and above me.
Ike stayed still in my cunt -- which was not staying still on
him -- as Vern put the head of his dick against my tight little
butt-hole. I stiffened, not sure about the discomfort. I tried to
relax and open my butt and Vern pressed down and in a little. As my
anus was forced open, my pussy squeezed Ike's dick and it twitched
inside me. That felt good -- all the better for the extra
compression.
"Do it, Vern," I croaked as loud as I could. "But slow and
easy." For the moment, my orgasms had stopped.
Vern did it. He pushed a little more. I thought my ass was
going to split -- and then the head of his dick popped past the
sphincters.
"Hold it right there for a minute," I gasped. I could feel the
two dicks, hard and ready and eager. I tried to relax again, with
little success, but after a few seconds I whispered, "Slow and
easy."
Vern did it just that way, too -- slow and easy. But also
nonstop. His implacable shaft slid steadily into me, probing deeper
and deeper. I was grateful now for the load Walt had shot on my
ass; it lubricated Vern's prick for the tight passage it was
spreading. When he was halfway in I started groaning, a long sound
that continued till I felt his pubic hair against my butt.
"Just hold still for a minute, both of you, 'kay?"
"Sure, baby," Ike said and kissed the top of my head.
I moved my hips just a little, kind of an experiment. It
didn't hurt but it wasn't comfortable yet, either. But I could feel
those two hard young pricks buried to the bone in me, pressing
against each other through the little membrane separating the
parallel channels. I felt absolutely stuffed, fore and aft.
"Careful, now," I said.
Vern moved a little, maybe a half-inch, but I felt it as if it
was a foot. I also felt the way it moved the compression of my cunt
on Ike's dick, which twitched in response and sent a little shudder
of pleasure through me. Ike moved his hips a little so his dick
slid halfway out, then he pushed it all the way back in again.
"You're so tight!" he gasped at me. "I don't think I can hold
it!"
I kissed his nipple and nipped it lightly with my teeth.
"Don't hold it," I said. "Fuck me hard."
Well, he did, but Vernon thought I'd been talking to him, too.
He pulled back till his glans was hung up on my sphincter and then
he rammed into me. I bit Ike's chest -- tasted blood -- trying to
stifle my scream. My cunt and ass tightened on both pricks.
Ike was fucking in and out of me like a madman, moaning about
how tight and hot and wet I was. Vern pulled back again and drove
his cock into my ass. Again I bit Ike's chest and Vern moved
faster and faster and then, suddenly, I started to have an orgasm.
It was amazing, like breaking through to someplace new! I came
and came and came and those two hard young cocks pumped me from
both sides, stretching and reaming me and filling me. Vern fell
flat atop me, adding his weight to mine on Ike, and flailed away,
fucking my ass with short, hard little strokes as if he were
pumping a cunt. Ike was sawing his longer dick in and out of my
cunt. At one point they were syncopated, one moving in while the
other moved out. Then they were coordinated, plundering my little
body in unison.
And I kept cumming and cumming, uncontrollably, sobbing and
whimpering.
Then Vern started shaking. "I'm gonna cum, buddy!" he gasped.
"Both -- cum -- in me -- " I choked out between spasms.
That did it for Ike, too. Both of them began pumping in short
little strokes, violent strokes, pounding their swelling, twitching
dicks into me as far as they'd go, which seemed pretty damn far.
Then Vern -- and then Ike -- hunched against me. I could feel two
sets of balls against my thighs, two pubic mats against me, and
then, two cocks jerking and throbbing and flooding me. I felt
Vern's juices flooding my bowels and I felt Ike's cock swelling in
my cunt and knew he was spurting in there and all the orgasms and
horniness rolled up inside me and let go at once. I locked up,
frozen, between and around them and came harder and harder and
harder, a single orgasm that just kept getting more intense. With my
cum-drenched little body sandwiched between the two big sixteen-
year-olds, I just kept cumming until, finally, everything was one
big orgasm and I knew nothing but orgasm and then I knew nothing, 'cause
I finally passed out -- cold.
When I came to, I was a sandwich again, but no one was inside
me and I felt firm, lush breasts against my back. Reenie whispered,
"Are you okay, sweety?"
I nodded against Ike's shoulder. I couldn't do much more than
that at the moment. Vern put one of the sheets over us, against the
cooling night air. My pussy still throbbed, but my butt was numb.
"Some of us have tried doing that," she said. "Ellen liked it
a lot. But I've never seen anyone cum like that, not that way." She
shivered. Her nipples were stiff against my bare back. I wriggled
against her. She had one hand on my belly. Ike kissed my ear. I
felt utterly content for the first time. Thoroughly fucked,
thoroughly sated and now, loved and hugged and valued and caressed
and cuddled.
Ike and Reenie and Vern and Ellen helped me get myself cleaned
up and put together. We sat around and rested. Reenie and Ellen got
me back to the house around midnight. Everyone else in the house
was asleep, which was fine by me.
That was the first time I'd pulled a train and it was the last
for quite a while. During the rest of the two weeks, I got into
some more group scenes, once with Helene and Reenie -- as nice as
it was, I missed cocks -- and once with Ike and Reenie, at Reenie's
house when the rest of her family was on a shopping expedition on
the mainland. That was really nice. I think my favorite thing was
laying on top of Reenie, licking her sweet, luxurious cunt while
she sucked and nibbled my almost-hairless little slit -- and Ike
sawed his hard dong slowly in and out. I came constantly, but it
was wonderfully gentle waves of ecstasy and left me revived rather
than enervated. Give me a couple -- male and female -- any time.
Bobby and I got it on alone once, and after I'd sucked him off
twice, I asked if he ever wanted to just plain ol' fuck. He said,
Sure, but he wasn't sure about my being able to take his thick
dick. Well, with patience and perseverance, I did, he did and it
was fine -- but I was sore for two days, inside and out.
When we got on the ferry back to Port Clinton, Mom and Dad
said they were glad I'd made some friends so I wasn't bored. Even
then I recognized the pun.
Alexis cried and Jeanne was silent and the boys were cranky
and I was just, well, contented.
The islanders and I wrote occasionally, but island kids tend
to leave as soon as they can; there's little future there. In later
years I encountered a few of them. Ellen became a Moonie after Vern
was killed in 'Nam and Reenie had joined a commune somewhere in
Vermont. Ike was killed by a drunk driver on the Ohio Turnpike,
near Elyria. Most of the others vanished from my life, but left me
with an absolutely lovely set of memories.
I did get another shot at Roger that summer and tried to
buttfuck him -- it was near his birthday -- but he stopped before
half his fat prickhead was in me. "I want to get in your butt,
baby," he said, "but not when it'll put hurtin' on you." We found
some enjoyable alternatives.
That was over Labor Day Weekend. Then my eighth and last year
in the prison school started. That was the year Ed Sautter
started the photography club at the high school and I became a
star.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kids from Rossford Junior High -- who were twelve- and thirteen-
and fourteen-years-old -- had a lot of friends at St. Cornelius,
because eighth graders in St. Cornelius were twelve and thirteen
years old. Which meant the older girls from junior high sometimes hung
out with girls a year or two younger from St. Cornelius, so when
juniors from Rossford High wanted to hit on girls from the junior
high, they ending up meeting eighth graders from St. Cornelius, too.
All of which goes to explain how I met George, who was sixteen
and a junior, when I was only twelve.
George was a "Hunky" -- that's the nickname for Hungarians, of
which there were a lot in Rossford -- and got good grades. He was big
and blonde and kind of handsome, in a rough-hewn sort of way. He
didn't set out to pick me up, but he ended up with me one early
September Saturday when about two dozen kids piled into six or seven
cars and headed for a concert at Veteran's Stadium. George wanted to
be an engineer (like my phantom step-brother), liked to read science-
fiction (like my phantom step-brother), played the guitar (like my
phantom step-brother) and said "please" and "thank you" (like my
phantom step-brother).
He was a lot like my phantom step-brother, if you know what I
mean.
George was a lineman on the varsity football team and had this
really wicked, quiet sense of humor (which was like my phantom step-
brother). He drove one of the cars to the concert, but had about four
beers and didn't think he should drive back. I was impressed. I was
even more impressed when I ended up sitting on his lap in the crowded
backseat. I'd had a couple of beers, too, and wanted to make out and
he kept acting like a gentleman and telling me I was only a kid...
right up to the time I pulled down my top and stuck a tit in his face
while squirming on the unconcealable hard-on making a hard tent in the
crotch of his jeans. Even then he acted like I was a kid, making me
cover myself and behave.
I made George a target. Within two weeks, I was spending most of a
Friday night under the stands at the Rossford High field riding him,
with his fat cock rammed up my hungry, wet little snatch and his hands
under my blouse, playing with my nipples. I never met another teenager
who could hold off cumming as long as George could. Despite the ribbing
he took for robbing the cradle, George and I remained "an item" for most
of the first semester and past the end of the football season. That was
when the photography club became a factor.
George was interested in photography, enough so that he'd even
set up a little darkroom in his basement. He talked about the club
from time to time. To be honest, it didn't interest me and I didn't
pay much attention. Until that Friday night in late March.
George had an older brother in the Coast Guard and his family --
which was large -- had gone to Cleveland for the weekend to visit his
brother and some relatives. We had the house to ourselves. I'd
arranged for Dana Connally to cover for me that I was at her house.
It was about eleven at night. George had already drunk about five
beers and I'd had a couple, myself. We were touring the house -- with
a difference. For one thing, we were naked. For another, I had my legs
around his waist and his nice fat prick buried in me. George was so
big -- he was about six-foot-two and two hundred pounds and lifted
weights -- he was just carrying me around the house.
"This is the kitchen!" And he'd rest my bare butt on the
countertop and fuck in and out of me till I'd cum once or twice and
then: "And this is the dining room!" And he'd repeat the procedure on
the dining-room table.
Of course, I contributed: "But isn't the dining room where you're
supposed to eat?"
At which point he'd pull out of me, munch on my cunt -- I had
just a hint of hair there -- and then plough my furrow again and we'd
continue the tour.
"This is the living room!" On the stereo and television cabinets.
"This is bathroom!" On the vanity.
Et cetera.
He finally came in me in the basement, in the darkroom. For a guy
who could last so long, he didn't shoot very much stuff. Not that I
minded. What was important was the look on his face after we caught our
breath: He was frowning.
"Why are you frowning?"
He shrugged. "I still don't know what I'm going to do for the
show," he said. Ed Sautter had scheduled a school-year's-end show of
the photography club's work.
I stretched my arms over my head -- I was laying on the
countertop where George usually cropped his photographs -- and said,
"Well, how about a nude study?"
He laughed with me, but then he stopped and stared at me.
"Y'know, maybe -- "
I held my hands up, palms toward him. "Forget it."
He shook his head. "No face; just nude torso in black and white.
I'll let you proof the negatives."
I sat up on the counter. "Are you serious?"
George nodded. "Ed -- " Ed Sautter was a member of that new and
informal generation of teachers. He'd been hired to teach English Lit;
for his kids in the Lense Club, his first name was available. " -- Ed
says if someone comes up with a really good nude study, he'll fight
to get it in the show."
Well, to make a long story short, I agreed. What the hell, huh?
None of the negatives had my face in them, so who would know? We shot
them with a flash that night and by daylight the next morning. The
best ones were with me on the coffee table in the living room. They
were tight focus from just the hint of my pubis to my shoulders, with
the angle of the morning light highlighting the flat plane of my
stomach, the clear definition of my ribcage and below, just the hint
of swelling for my hips. My breasts were firm and rounded and my
nipples were hard -- George said professionals use ice cubes, but we
used something else to get them hard and keep them that way.
It was a stunning series of relief shots. Some of them were lovely;
I still have them. The best were so good that they weren't even erotic;
they were just beautiful -- a healthy, firm-bodied young woman
blossoming into womanhood (in black and white) against the rich grain of
the oak coffee table's surface. I still look at them and don't see
myself or sex. They were really quite good.
Sautter was true to his word; he exhibited the best ones and
almost got himself fired.
The problem came when someone noted that the edge of a National
Geographic -- not the date, but part of the logo -- was visible, on the
coffee table, measured it against the nude torso, did some fast math to
get the measurements of said (my) torso, noted the lack of abundant
pubic hair...
...and figured out who the model was.
The word got around in certain circles very quickly. There was a
lot of Talk. Then Sautter had his confrontation with the Powers That Be
and finally compromised, agreeing to exhibit the nudes in the faculty
lounge, to protect the young people of Rossford and the Model.
Funny, but I didn't think I needed protecting. Hell, I'd done the
pictures, hadn't I?
Well, the whole thing began to outgrow itself and pretty soon,
George was getting a lot of pressure to reveal the name of the woman
in the pictures. George refused. George dug in his heels and got
stubborn, something at which he excelled. For a while, it looked like
the whole thing was just going to blow over, because everyone got
wrapped up in the fight about the bond issue for the levees out in
Point Place --
[Please, don't ask.]
-- and everything seemed fine until George called me one
afternoon when I had the house pretty much to myself and informed me
that the negatives had disappeared. All of them -- including the
outtakes, which were not solo shots of a lovely torso; those were pure
smut, taken off a tripod and timer and giving an excellent view of me,
from the rear, riding George's fat prick. One in particular, taken
while I was cumming, had real good definition of the way my pussy was
stretched round his dick, with all but an inch or so of his wide dong
buried inside me. Some of the others in that set included my face --
in one shot, with my mouth full, if you know what I mean.
George figured it had happened that afternoon, while he was
jogging. The night before, he'd developed some shots he'd taken out at
the old Municipal Airport. When he'd gotten home, the padlock on his
darkroom door had been cut -- probably a bolt-cutter, he figured --
and the negatives and prints from our session, and only from our
session, were missing.
I went over to see him and we put our heads together and tried to
reason it out. Whoever had done it hadn't been on the football squad,
which aced Marty and the other Three Stooges; they'd been jogging, too.
George pointed out that examining negatives wasn't easy if you didn't
know what you were doing, so that narrowed it down to people with
darkroom experience who knew George's schedule and what to look for ...
No matter how we sliced it, we kept coming back to the Lense
Club. Well, we were right -- sort of.
By then, Easter vacation was coming up and I went to see my
cousin, Charlene for a couple of days. That's what I told George. In
fact, I was eager to see Roger, but I didn't share that with George.
I hadn't seen Charlene since around Christmas, when she and Tod
the Asshole and Uncle Van and Aunt Irene came by for Christmas Dinner.
Charlene had been losing weight -- or, should I say, redistributing
it. When I saw her during that Easter break, I told her the truth: She
looked real good. She'd gotten a new hair-do and her waist was smaller
and her tummy was getting flat and her legs and butt were getting
tighter and her tits were growing real nice. She was almost fourteen
and you could see what was happening: She was going to be a bombshell.
The first chance I got, I went over to see Roger. He knew I was
coming over, because I'd called him from Rossford and told him. He was
waiting for me and about, oh, ninety seconds after the front door was
locked, a trail of clothing led from the living room door, up the stairs
and right to the bedroom. Roger was devouring my pussy like a starving
man with a bowl of rice. And he was making me crazy, because he'd lick
and suck me till I was almost ready to cum and then he'd back off and
leave me hanging. He did this for about fifteen minutes.
Finally, I grabbed two hands' full of his hair, pulled his head
away and said, "Roger, if you don't stick that cock in me right this
minute, I'm going to scream bloody murder!"
He knelt on the bed between my knees and pointed down. "You mean
this cock?"
His dick was as hard as any teenager's and was all reddish and
throbbing and enormous. My cunt was twitching and juices just drenched
my pussy and the bed beneath me.
"Roger!" I yelled.
He grinned, got on all fours and began kissing his way up my body,
pausing to give special attention to my breasts, especially my nipples.
"They're getting big, Marie," he said.
As if I didn't know. According to the Sears big book, my
measurements dictated a B-cup -- if someone manufactured a 27-B. My
nipples were small, but hard and swollen and each time his tongue passed
over them, I shivered. With a nineteen-inch waist and twenty-five inch
hips, I was definitely top-heavy by any standard.
Finally he crawled over me, pausing to put a pillow under my
little butt. My legs opened more and I swear I could hear my own pussy
lips, so swollen and wet and tight, part for him. I reached down with
both hands, one to part my labia and one to guide his huge dick.
[Well, eight inches may not seem huge to you, but remember how
young and small and tight I was. An eight-inch cock in a girl with 25-
inch hips is like an eleven-inch cock in a normal, average-size
woman.]
As he slid it into me, I started moaning and rolling my hips
under him, rocking them back and forth to take more and more of that
big dick into my body. He said I seemed even tighter than usual and I
could believe it -- after all, he'd just spent a quarter of an hour
dangling me on the brink of cumming.
Then he was about halfway in and his glans pressed something inside
me and it felt golden and I came. Wow, did I cum! It was like being
possessed. I came for almost a minute and when I sank back, limp, he was
all the way in me -- the first time he'd gotten the whole thing inside
me -- and he began pumping my pussy. After a few minutes of that, I felt
him jerk and throb inside me and then he was cumming in me. He held me
very close as he came in me, crushing me against him and somehow probing
his prick farther into me without moving his hips much. On the last
spurt, he also kissed the top of my head -- remember how short I was --
as we both had or orgasms.
He rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him and keeping his
shriveling cock inside me. I bore down on the muscles in my cunt and
he groaned with the additional tightness.
We lay there, sweaty and stuck together and panting.
"You've been practicing," he said. "Got yourself a sweetheart.
Want to tell me about it?"
I nuzzled his chest hairs, stalling.
"You don't have to," he reassured me. So of course I did.
When I finished, he asked: "Okay, baby -- what's bothering you?"
"Nothing, really."
His hand raised my face so he could look me in the eye. "Marie,
you're laying here with my dick inside you -- "
"I noticed." I giggled.
He gave my butt a playful swat, more of a caress. "-- and your mind
is a million miles away. Don't lie to me. You're bothered by something.
Spill."
So as I lay there with this man who was fifteen years older than
me, with his dick inside me -- along with all of our juices -- I told
him about the pictures and the negatives.
"That was you?" He laughed a little, more like a chortle. "I should
have known. One of the guys at Robby's -- " That was a barber shop in
Genoa. "-- was talking about that exhibit. He was impressed." He
chortled again. "Wish I'd seen those pictures."
"Roger, I'm afraid everyone is going to see those pictures -- and
the outtakes."
"Baby, I'd do anything if I could, but I wouldn't know where to
start. You got any ideas?"
I admitted that I didn't -- at least where he could help with
that. However, I did have other ideas and I flexed those muscles
again. He started to get hard inside me, which was an amazing
sensation, because his cock started out about average and swelled into
a monster. Within a few minutes, he was stiff as a concrete-
reinforcement rod and I was sitting up straight and bouncing up and
down on him. Coming down was especially fun, since it ground my clit
into the hair-cushioned ring of bone around the base of his thick
prick. I came a lot, over and over, and finally fell forward onto him.
He rubbed a fingertip around my butt-hole and then slid it in. Much to
my astonishment, it felt good. And I let him know it.
That was the key that set him off. He fucked me wildly for a few
minutes. I really got off on the feeling of his fat cockhead swelling
far, far inside my tight cunt, and we again came together. He seemed
to cum a lot with the double compression on his cock. Later, when I
climbed off him and scampered to the bathroom before my leaks stained
the carpet; there was an awful lot of stuff in me.
We did it again the next day, but the next night he had to go
pick up a load of strawberries for delivery in New York, where he was
supposed to pick up a trailer full of books and bring them to Toledo.
I went home after almost a day of fending off Tod the Asshole
and found nothing new had happened with regard to the missing
negatives. I knew, nonetheless, that it was just a matter of time before
the other shoe was dropped. George took the College Boards in May and
I prepared for final exams.
Then, in the last week of May, the high schools in the area
started having open-house days for eighth-graders. I had no intention
of attending Rossford High -- I'd already been enrolled in the Catholic
high school, without being consulted -- but it meant a day away from
St. Cornelius, so I went. The regular students at the high school had
the day off -- it turned Memorial Day weekend into a four-day weekend
for them -- so the place was occupied only by eighth graders.
I was on the second floor, looking at the biology lab, when a
man approached me. He was a nice-looking guy with slightly long hair
and an open face. He was about twenty-five or twenty-six and he was
wearing bell-bottomed pants and a white shirt and tie. His most
striking feature was the bluest eyes I've ever seen.
"Marie?"
I nodded.
"I'm Ed Sautter." He shook my hand. "I'm trying to get a creative
writing club started for the summer and I'd like you to come to one of
our meetings."
"To tell the truth, I'm already signed up for another school."
He shook his head and smiled. "Doesn't matter. I'm just trying to
gather some of the more promising young writers."
"I'm not really a writer -- "
"You've done some fine compositions and essays at St. Cornelius,
from what I hear. I'd like to see them. Will you give us a chance?"
"Well -- "
"Besides -- " He leaned close, confidential and just-between-us
close, those gorgeous blue eyes boring in on me. "Besides: Susan -- my
girlfriend -- is going to come over and set up a chicken barbecue for
everyone and she makes this sauce...mmmmm." He rolled those gorgeous
blue eyes.
Who could resist? "Well...okay. Where and when?"
"This afternoon at three." He produced a piece of paper and
scribbled an address on it.
"Eagle Point Road? That's a pretty ritzy neighborhood," I said.
"I didn't think teachers got paid very much."
"We don't," he said. "I'm renting the place along with two
buddies. If you want a lift, I'm taking four or five others with me
when I leave here at two-thirty. They'll be meeting me in the
teachers' parking lot by the VW Microbus with the peace signs on it.
Be seein' ya!"
And then he was gone, just like that. I stood there in the nearly
deserted hallway, fingering the paper and decided it might be fun.
It was that. And more.
[continues]
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